The Greatest Works of Otis Adelbert Kline - 18 Books in One Edition. Otis Adelbert Kline
with one foot in the loop and both hands gripping the rope, was swiftly and silently lowered. As soon as I was opposite the window, I signaled the men to cease lowering me. Because of the projection of the battlements, I hung about three feet from the window ledge. Below me was a sheer drop of about a hundred feet to the balcony roof of the next segment.
Gripping the rope with both hands, I worked it as a child works a swing until it began to move back and forth, first toward, then away from the window ledge. Nearer and nearer it swung until I was finally able to hook a foot over the ledge and draw myself inside. Cautiously dropping to the floor, I found the room deserted and the door closed. From beyond the door came men’s voices raised in altercation.
Scarbo in hand, I tiptoed to the door and gently opened it a little way. Standing near the large central window, but looking toward the entrance to the corridor, were Loralie and her two handmaidens. Just in front of them, and also facing the door, were Vinzeth and his two men.
I had no idea whether the two maids with Loralie were friendly to my cause or to that of Taliboz, but I took a chance, and, reaching out, touched the arm of the one nearest me, then held my finger to my lips for silence. She started and gave a little cry of fear which caused me to snatch at my tork, but it went unnoticed by the three men because of the clamor in the corridor.
Motioning the girl into the bedroom, I touched her companion in a like manner, and also succeeded in getting her out of the way without noise. I then touched Loralie lightly on the shoulder. She swung on me, a furious look in her eyes, but it was instantly replaced by one of infinite tenderness when she recognized me. She went with me quickly enough into the bedroom, but when I started out again she threw her arms around my neck to detain me.
“Don’t go, please,” she whispered. “They will kill you. Close the door and stay in here.”
I smiled, kissed her, and pushed her away.
“Lock the door after me,” I said in a whisper. “In case I lose the fight, Lotar will break in from the corridor before Vinzeth can harm you.”
Then I stepped out and softly closed the door after me. At this instant one of the men, turned, facing me. For a moment he stared incredulously; then he reached for his tork. But mine was already leveled at him, and I fired.
At the sound of the shot, Vinzeth and the other ruffian swung about. I shot the latter, but the mojak of Taliboz was too quick for me. Without pausing to draw a weapon, he sprang in so close that I was unable to use mine, and we went down in a heap, kicking, clawing, striking and gouging each other like a pair of wild animals.
The corridor door, meanwhile, was splintering from thunderous blows on its exterior. Although the thick serali planking was exceedingly tough, it was evident that it could not much longer withstand the terrific assault. Lotar had evidently found something that made an efficient battering ram.
All this came to me subconsciously as I fought, for I was too busy with my powerful and wily antagonist to think of anything else. Back and forth we struggled, rolling over and over, crashing against furniture and pulling down hangings, each man kept so occupied by the other that he was unable to use a weapon.
Presently I managed to get a short arm jolt to Vinzeth’s jaw, which partly dazed him, and was about to repeat the process when he suddenly caught me in the solar plexus with his knee. With the wind completely knocked out of me, I sank, gasping, to the floor.
He uttered a yell of triumph, and whipping out his scarbo, swung it aloft with the evident intention of splitting my skull.
But ere he could bring it down, there was a final, rending crash from the corridor doorway, followed by the cracking of a tork. With a look of horrified unbelief on his features, Vinzeth dropped his scarbo and pitched forward on his face, his body lying across me.
Lotar quickly dragged him off me, and flung him into the corner as if he had been a sack of grain. I sat up but was unable to talk.
When I regained my speech I called to Loralie, telling her that it was now safe to open the door. Recognizing my voice, she came out and knelt beside me, pulling my head down on her breast and asking me where I was wounded.
But I reassured her, and a moment later, having managed to regain my breath, I stood up. “Man one of the aerial battleships at once, Lotar,” I said. “We’re going to pay our respects to Taliboz.”
While we waited for Lotar to get the ship ready for flight, Loralie and I stood on the palace roof, looking toward the Black Tower.
Lotar sent us each a glass, and with the aid of these, we could watch what was transpiring.
The citizens’ army which had started out from Olba was now less than two miles from the tower and spread out in an immense crescent. Marching from Tureno, and almost as close to the besieged tower, was an army almost as large as that of Olba, deployed in the same manner. On account of his low position and the rolling formation of the ground, Taliboz had not yet seen his approaching enemies. His men, who had evidently been previously repulsed, judging from the bodies that lay before the wall, were forming for a new assault on the Black Tower.
We were watching the horns of the two crescents draw together when Lotar called to me, “The ship is ready, Highness.”
Chapter 16
Loralie and I boarded the aerial battleship. It was the same one that had rescued us from the killer norgal and brought us to Olba, manned in part by the same crew, and commanded by Lotar.
By my command he piloted the ship to a point directly above the Black Tower, and hovered there. The armies from the north and south had, by this time, completed their encircling movement and were rapidly closing in on the unsuspecting army of Taliboz.
Zinlo of Olba, to Taliboz: You are surrounded by an army of forty thousand warriors. As the Black Tower is garrisoned with five thousand men, you cannot hope to take it. You have your choice of unconditional surrender or annihilation. If you surrender, lay down your arms and raise the “dua” pennon. If not, you alone are responsible for what will follow.
Zinlo
Rolling it up and weighting it with an empty tork clip, I hurled this message down at the spot where the Imperial Standard of Olba fluttered in the wind.
With the aid of my glass I watched its flight downward, and saw it fall near one of the officers, who carried it to his commander.
Unrolling it, Taliboz read it, then passed it to the man nearest him. Upon careful scrutiny with the glass, I saw the man was Maribo, his prime minister. After the latter had read it, the two engaged in a lengthy argument in which several of the others joined.
I judged from their attitudes that the other officers sided with Maribo, and that Taliboz stood alone in whatever decision he had made. While the argument was going on, the first skirmish line of the encircling army opened fire.
Suddenly wheeling and walking away from Maribo and the others, I saw Taliboz shout something to a mattork crew and point toward our ship. A moment later a shell screamed past me. This was his answer.
A gunner in our forward turret promptly replied, wiping out the crew of the mattork from which the shot had been fired.
But Maribo and the other officers apparently did not approve of the way Taliboz had replied to our missive. With positive defeat staring them in the face, they appeared to be united in favor of immediate surrender. At least they did not interfere with Maribo when he ran up behind Taliboz just as the traitor was ordering another gun crew to fire on us, and deliberately stabbed him in the back.
Scarcely had the stricken traitor sunk to the ground ere Maribo gave an order to the standard bearer. Instantly the banner of Taliboz was lowered and the pennon of peace raised, while the shout of “dua” went around the lines. The fighting ceased almost instantly, and with their weapons on the ground and their hands clasped behind their heads in token