fifty lancers down from the hills, if they be needed. It is a palace of ease, and not a fort where battles would be fought. Take the Masters prisoner. Do not harm their machineries or allow others to do so. If they do not resist us, all well and good. If they do, we shall walk through the Palace and Hall of the Masters of Karma like a small boy across an extensive and excessively elaborate ant hill. Good luck. No gods be with you!"
And turning his horse, he headed on up the road, the eight lancers singing softly at his back.
The prince rode through the wide double gate, which stood open and unguarded. He set immediately to wondering concerning secret defenses that Strake might have missed.
The courtyard was landscaped and partly paved. In a large garden area, servants were at work pruning, trimming and cultivating. The prince sought after weapon emplacements and saw none. The servants glanced up as he entered, but did not halt their labors.
At the far end of the courtyard was the black stone Hall. He advanced in that direction, his horsemen following, until he was hailed from the steps of the palace itself, which lay to his right.
He drew rein and turned to look in that direction. The man wore black livery, a yellow circle on his breast, and he carried an ebony staff. He was tall, heavy and muffled to the eyes. He did not repeat his salutation, but stood waiting.
The prince guided his mount to the foot of the wide stairway. "I must speak to the Masters of Karma," he stated.
"Have you an appointment?" inquired the man.
"No," said the prince, "but it is a matter of importance."
"Then I regret that you have made this trip for nothing," replied the other. "An appointment is necessary. You may make arrangements at any Temple in Mahartha."
He then struck upon the stair with his staff, turned his back and began to move away.
"Uproot that garden," said the prince to his men, "cut down yonder trees, heap everything together and set a torch to it."
The man in black halted, turned again.
Only the prince waited at the foot of the stair. His men were already moving off in the direction of the garden.
"You can't do that," said the man.
The prince smiled.
His men dismounted and began hacking at the shrubbery, kicking they way through the flower beds.
"Tell them to stop!"
"Why should I? I have come to speak with the Masters of Karma, and you tell me that I cannot. I tell you that I can, and will. Let us see which of us is correct."
"Order them to stop," said the other, "and I will bear your message to the Masters."
"Halt!" cried the prince. "But be ready to begin again."
The man in black mounted the stairs, vanished into the palace. The prince fingered the horn that hung on a cord about his neck.
In a short while there was movement, and armed men began to emerge from the doorway. The prince raised his horn and gave wind to it twice.
The men wore leather armor—some still buckling it hastily into place—and caps of the same material. Their sword arms were padded to the elbow, and they wore small, oval-shaped metal shields, bearing as device a yellow wheel upon a black field. They carried long, curved blades. They filled the stairway completely and stood as if waiting orders.
The man in black emerged again, and he stood at the head of the stair. "Very well," he stated, "if you have a message for the Masters, say it!"
"Are you a Master?" inquired the prince.
"I am."
"Then must your rank be lowest of them all, it you must also do duty as doorman. Let me speak to the Master in charge here."
"Your insolence will be repaid both now and in a life yet to come," observed the Master.
Then three dozen lancers rode through the gate and arrayed themselves at the sides of the prince. The eight who had begun the deflowering of the garden remounted their horses and moved to join the formation, blades laid bare across their laps.
"Must we enter your palace on horseback?" inquired the prince. "Or will you now summon the other
And turning his horse, he headed on up the road, the eight lancers singing softly at his back.
The prince rode through the wide double gate, which stood open and unguarded. He set immediately to wondering concerning secret defenses that Strake might have missed.
The courtyard was landscaped and partly paved. In a large garden area, servants were at work pruning, trimming and cultivating. The prince sought after weapon emplacements and saw none. The servants glanced up as he entered, but did not halt their labors.
At the far end of the courtyard was the black stone Hall. He advanced in that direction, his horsemen following, until he was hailed from the steps of the palace itself, which lay to his right.
He drew rein and turned to look in that direction. The man wore black livery, a yellow circle on his breast, and he carried an ebony staff. He was tall, heavy and muffled to the eyes. He did not repeat his salutation, but stood waiting.
The prince guided his mount to the foot of the wide stairway. "I must speak to the Masters of Karma," he stated.
"Have you an appointment?" inquired the man.
"No," said the prince, "but it is a matter of importance."
"Then I regret that you have made this trip for nothing," replied the other. "An appointment is necessary. You may make arrangements at any Temple in Mahartha."
He then struck upon the stair with his staff, turned his back and began to move away.
"Uproot that garden," said the prince to his men, "cut down yonder trees, heap everything together and set a torch to it."
The man in black halted, turned again.
Only the prince waited at the foot of the stair. His men were already moving off in the direction of the garden.
"You can't do that," said the man.
The prince smiled.
His men dismounted and began hacking at the shrubbery, kicking they way through the flower beds.
"Tell them to stop!"
"Why should I? I have come to speak with the Masters of Karma, and you tell me that I cannot. I tell you that I can, and will. Let us see which of us is correct."
"Order them to stop," said the other, "and I will bear your message to the Masters."
"Halt!" cried the prince. "But be ready to begin again."
The man in black mounted the stairs, vanished into the palace. The prince fingered the horn that hung on a cord about his neck.
In a short while there was movement, and armed men began to emerge from the doorway. The prince raised his horn and gave wind to it twice.
The men wore leather armor—some still buckling it hastily into place—and caps of the same material. Their sword arms were padded to the elbow, and they wore small, oval-shaped metal shields, bearing as device a yellow wheel upon a black field. They carried long, curved blades. They filled the stairway completely and stood as if waiting orders.
The man in black emerged again, and he stood at the head of the stair. "Very well," he stated, "if you have a message for the Masters, say it!"
"Are you a Master?" inquired the prince.
"I am."
"Then must your rank be lowest of them all, it you must also do duty as doorman. Let me speak to the Master in charge here."
"Your insolence will be repaid both now and in a life yet to come," observed the Master.
Then three dozen lancers rode through the gate and arrayed themselves at the sides of the prince. The eight who had begun the deflowering of the garden remounted their horses and moved to join the formation, blades laid bare across their laps.
"Must we enter your palace on horseback?" inquired the prince. "Or will you now summon the other
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