It hit a main strut about half-way down and it went in deep. Several Argzoon warriors were above the place where I had hit the ladder. Their weight completed my work for me—the ladder cracked, splintered and then broke.

With horrible screams the Argzoon fell upon the heads of their comrades crowding the ground below.

Luckily it was the only ladder they had managed to raise, and only because the halberd-type weapons the defenders used to push the ladders back had not been available on this section.

This was rectified as two halberdiers took up their positions.

I was feeling somewhat shaky after my efforts and turned to grin at my comrades. One of them was a boy, even younger than Darnad—a redheaded youngster with freckles and a snub nose. I gripped his hand and shook it, though he was not familiar with the custom. Nonetheless, he responded in the right spirit, guessing the meaning of the gesture.

I reached out my hand to grasp that of the other man. He gave me a glazed look, tried to stretch out his own arm and then pitched forward towards me.

I knelt beside him and examined his wound. A blade had gone right through him. By rights he should have been dead an hour before. Head bowed, I paid my silent respects to such a brave fighter.

Then I was up again, looking around for Darnad, wondering how the battle went. Night soon fell and flares were lighted. It seemed we were to have some relief, for the Argzoon horde retreated some distance from the walls and began to pitch tents.

I staggered along the wall and down a ramp. I learned from a wall commander that Darnad had been called to the south wall but would be returning to the palace soon.

Rather than seek him along the wall, I went wearily back to the palace.

In the ante-room of the main hall, I found Shizala. The guard who had brought me here left and I was again uncomfortably alone with her. Even in my exhausted condition I could not help admiring her tall beauty.

At her silent indication I sank upon cushions that had been heaped on the floor.

She brought me a flask of basu. Thankfully I drank it down, almost in a single draught. Then I handed the flask back to her, feeling a little better.

"I have heard what you did," she said softly, not looking directly at me. "It was a heroic deed. Your action may have saved the city—or at least a large number of our warriors."

"It was necessary, that is all," I replied. "You are a modest hero." She still did not look my way but raised her eyebrows a little ironically.

"Merely truthful," I replied in the same manner. "How goes the defense?"