The Greatest Works of Otis Adelbert Kline - 18 Books in One Edition. Otis Adelbert Kline

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and higher than a man moved toward him, revealing a flat platform and a flight of steps beyond. The sound of roaring water was now plainly audible.

      Grandon stepped on the platform and, finding it firm, held his torch aloft and descended the steps. After traveling for a considerable distance he reached a level floor of stone and a moment later cane upon a great stone dock on which, as far as his torchlight carried in both directions, reposed a fleet of metal boats. Each was about fifty feet in length and built in the form of those huge amphibious reptiles such as he had rescued Vernia from, back in Reabon. The prow ended in the arched serpentine neck and head, while the stern terminated in the flat, pointed tail. Behind these grotesque craft he could see the black, foam-flecked water rushing headlong beneath stalactite-festooned subterranean arches.

      He examined one of the boats. It was constructed of brown metal similar to that from which the Albines made their weapons and armor, and appeared quite strong and seaworthy. The deck was completely arched over with the same material, fashioned in imitation of reptilian scales, except at the front and rear where there were oval holes provided with hinged metal lids.

      Upon entering the forward hole he found a roomy interior all of metal, and saw that the hull was rigidly ribbed and braced. Twenty large metal paddles lay on the floor and there were twenty seats for paddlers, ten on each side, while metal hoods projected outward almost to the water line, in such a manner that they would completely hide the paddlers and protect them from the missiles of an enemy. The steering device and helmsman’s seat were immediately behind the top of the rear entrance hole, and were also protected by movable metal plates.

      Upon his moving the tiller the entire tail turned; the rudder was fastened beneath this tail.

      Grandon made his way back to the armory and carefully closed the secret doorway. He started along the passageway, when he noticed a soldier running toward him.

      The man stopped suddenly when he saw Grandon and saluted stiffly. “Joto bade me tell you that the sabits are beginning to attack.”

      “Attacking already?” Grandon hurried to join in the momentous conflict which was to decide, once and for all, whether men or monsters should rule the Valley of the Sabits.

      As soon as he had left the room a tall, bulky figure in armor stepped from behind a large catapult and went directly to the hidden door, wrenching one of the torches from its fastening as he passed. The soldier fumbled with the hidden lever for a moment, then managed to swing the door back and disappeared in the dark interior.

      Some twenty minutes later he reappeared, carefully fastened the door and replaced the torch. His visor was raised; the face was that of Tholto.

      “A way out of the valley,” he muttered. “I have only to gather a few provisions and to get her.”

      Chapter 14

       Table of Contents

      The pandemonium of battle was punctuated by the staccato reports of the men’s cannonlike mattorks as Grandon reached the interior of the men’s sleeping quarters. He mounted to the topmost chamber from which Joto directed the activities of the two mattork crews while he shouted orders to the defenders.

      Here he found Vernia and Rotha. “See,” the marsh-girl cried, “they come by thousands and tens of thousands. They cover the entire landscape. Our defenses will be crushed.”

      “You forget that they are only brutes, Rotha,” replied Vernia, “and as such may be overcome by creatures of superior intellect. Men are the lords of creation, not sabits.”

      “But they are wiser than all other animals…”

      “Except men.” She turned to Grandon smiling. “We are going to win this battle, are we not, Robert Grandon?”

      “Most assuredly,” he replied. “However, I am not so positive that we will be able to hold this building. This is hardly a safe place.”

      “You forget,” said Vernia, “that I, too, am a soldier. I prefer to remain here, and if necessary, take part in the fighting.”

      “I am sure you are too good a soldier to disobey orders, and I am in command. You are ordered below.”

      A quick flash of resentment cane to her eyes at his tone and words.

      “You presume to command me? To dictate to the Princess of Reabon? I only command. Others obey.”

      In outraged dignity she turned and started toward the ramparts, but a strong pair of arms picked her up and carried her down the runways and to the foot of the stairway, while Rotha trailed behind. Grandon set Vernia gently down and, taking her by the shoulders, turned her so she looked up at him with flaming eyes and heaving bosom.

      “You would only be in my way, and would more than likely be carried off by the sabits. Now will you go forward peaceably, or must I carry you the rest of the way?”

      A slight flush suffused her cheeks, but when she raised her eyes to his, there, was a new look in them. “I will go, my commander.”

      “Spoken like a true soldier.” He paused for a moment to admire her, walking gracefully with Rotha down the passageway; then he turned to get back to the fighting.

      Grandon found the lower floor of the men’s sleeping quarters well defended, so climbed once more to the top of the structure where Joto was directing the battle. As far as he could see in every direction the ground swarmed with sabits. In a short time the brown-mouthed sabit community was overwhelmed and its buildings were razed to the ground, as were three of the outer structures of the white sabit community.

      The men in the central building held their own for a considerable time, but their outer ring of sabit guards were killed and torn to pieces almost instantly. At length it appeared inevitable that this building must fall. Sabits were gnawing their way through the walls and more and more soldiers were required to hold them back.

      “I will take a force to help them,” said Joto.

      “No. You are doing very well here. I will go to their assistance,” replied Grandon.

      Taking fifty men from the reserve force in the storeroom Grandon led them through the low underground runway. As they arrived the guards were being driven to the inner chambers, but they rallied with the aid of the new reinforcements and once more drove the sabits from the building.

      Sheb, the captain in command here, was on the roof directing the mattork crew, so Grandon climbed thither after assuring himself that the first floor was well defended. He found the crew standing idle while Sheb, fuming and cursing, was attempting to dislodge a jammed gas clip from the breech of the weapon.

      “Are you all so witless that you insert a clip backward after having been told the proper way a thousand times?” he roared. “For the price of a bowl of wine I would have you stripped of your armor and thrown to the sabits.”

      “Let me try,” said Grandon coolly. “I believe I can get that clip out for you.”

      Surprised at the sudden appearance of his commander, Sheb stood up and saluted hurriedly. With the point of his sword Grandon gently pried the recalcitrant clip, burned it, and closed the breech. Once more the crew sprayed bullets into the ranks of the attackers.

      A soldier rushed up from below. “The outer walls are nearly gone,” he gasped. “In a few minutes the building will cave in.”

      “Order a retreat. There is no use in defending this shell.”

      “The king and queen sabit prisoners—shall we take them with us?”

      “Leave them behind.”

      “If we leave them we will have no sabit slaves,” said Sheb.

      “Plenty more can be captured if we successfully withstand this attack,” replied Grandon.

      Another messenger arrived from below.


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