"Get you to the boat!" he shouted. "When all is ready, whistle that I may know."
Clang! The metal bar fell, and three men in steel went down under its sweep. With the agility of a panther, the son of the snows leaped and struck again. At his side black Rombar raged like a demon. Before those terrible blows no man, however well begirt in steel, could stand and live.
The Maeronican fighting men drew back, aghast. The way to the wharf was clear.
Laughing aloud, Oleric drew out of the fight and ran along the wharf to the marizel. Everson paused at the side of Polaris.
"Best go on," Janess told him. "I shall need no aid. Or, if you stay, stand to one side a bit. I have need for much room."
Once more the Maeronican men-at-arms closed in. Polaris, with his bar, charged them, shouting; for his blood was up. They should take him back to no dungeon when his freedom beckoned so near. Two more armored men fell, their mail cracking like egg-shell under the clanging flail that opposed them. Another went down under the murderous jaws of Rombar who fought at his master's thigh.
Loud and clear then sounded the whistle of Oleric. Hurling the bar in the faces of the bewildered men of the guard, the son of the snows ran to the end of the wharf and sprang to the deck of the marizel. Everson entered the door just ahead of him. Oleric and Urk already had stowed Mordo within the vessel and cut loose the mooring ropes.
As he paused for an instant on the rear deck to call the great dog to him, Polaris saw a giant figure come from one of the stone warehouses and run out to the end of the next quay. In the dusk, and at that distance, he yet was able to recognize Minos.
"It is I, Polaris!" Janess shouted. "We leave for Ruthar, if we may win through. Farewell for a space, until we come again."
Back came the deep voice of the king in answer: