Messengers sped east and west from tower to tower. Within an hour every garrison along the barrier knew that the gods of Ruthar had rifted their fortress and the hillsmen were pouring through. But these soldiers of Bel-Ar were picked men, and they did not fear. Every man-at-arms that could be spared from the turrets was horsed, and they came riding recklessly down their lofty pathway, firm in the belief that their own god presently would have a say in this matter.

At the third tower to the east of the breach was Atlo, captain of the wall. The tremor of the explosion reached even there. While the captain and his men wondered at what it might be, a messenger reached them. Atlo at once sent a horseman down the curving path, one of which led from each tower to the ground on the northern side of the wall, to ride through the forest to the town of Barme and arouse the army there.

Then Atlo armed himself, gathered his men and started west. Straight to the brink of the gap he rode, heeding neither arrows nor stones. At the edge of the breach he dismounted, and while the long shafts of the archers hummed around him and the missiles of the slingers dented his golden armor, he knelt and peered into the gorge below him.

Much the captain marveled at the force which had broken the barrier. His quick eyes of the soldier took in the disposition of the men and fathomed the plan of the enemy. He saw that a swarm of javelin men and a number of companies of heavier armed infantry were through the wall and prepared to defend their ground. More he saw; that the trench below was black with men who labored to fill it in; on the southern side of the wall another army of laborers was laying a broad road over which chariots might pass; and beneath him in the breach a man in mud-stained garments stood on a point of rock directing his grimy toilers.

Breathing a curse, Atlo lifted his spear and cast with all his might. Then he mounted and rode back to the nearest tower to await the coming of his garrisons.

Too late did the archers in the forests shout their warning when they saw that spear-arm poised.

At the foot of the rock Everson fell and lay face downward among his workmen.

Tenderly they bore him out of the trench and up the slope of the forest, those sturdy men of Ruthar who had worked with him and loved him. Four of his engineers carried him, and Mazoe walked beside, trying to stanch the flow of blood. Atlo's spear-point had bitten deeply just above the collar-bone.

At the crest of the rise Everson spoke in a weak voice and bade them set him down. Mazoe knelt and held him.

Through dim eyes the lieutenant peered back toward the sundered wall. He lifted his hand slowly and with infinite effort and pointed.