"Haste! Haste!" Oleric cried, then pursed his lips and sent a long whistle skirling up the glen. As he did so he lost his footing, clawed wildly at the air and the rocks, and went down.
Though the push of the down-rushing waters of the Illia was not strong enough to sweep a man from his feet if he were cautious, it was yet of sufficient power to keep him going once he fell. From shelf to shelf down the great stairway Oleric went, his armor clanging. More than that, he swept Mordo and the sturdy Urk from their footing, also; and all three of them slid straight into the hands of Daelo's men, outstretched to receive them.
As the soldiers seized Oleric and stood him upright, he wrenched free one arm and waved it at his companion.
"Tarry not for me!" he shouted. "Go on! There be friends waiting at the top—" A soldier smote him on the mouth and silenced him.
On the step where he stood Polaris halted. He bent, and with his strong fingers snapped the strings of his shoes and removed them—for he still wore his own clothing in which he had been dragged from the sea. With his feet bared, he had a better grip on the slippery rock. He snatched the sword of Everson from its sheath and went down the river-path, all unarmored as he was, to meet the swordsmen of Daelo. On they clambered, cursing and shouting; but the way was difficult for their mailed feet, and the son of the snows leaped down at them like an avalanche. With him, breast-deep in the current, went Rombar.
First man to meet the descending danger was Daelo, and he paid the penalty of his temerity with his life. Polaris, striking from above, smote him from his foothold, a blow that shore away half of his golden helm and split the skull within it, and the Captain Daelo pitched backward into the sea.
Another bound and a stroke so bitter that it hewed off the arm of a steel-clad soldier, severing it between wrist and elbow, and the son of the snows had freed Oleric from the hands that held him. Straightway the red captain drew sword and took up the tale. Daelo's men, of whom there were nearly a score, faltered, staggering and slipping on the rocky shelves. Almost their courage was broken, when Polaris caught his naked foot in a crevice in the rock and tripped. Before he could recover, a heavy sword-blade fell upon his unprotected head from behind. He let fall his own blade and sank to his knees and then to his face on the steps of Illia.
Short-lived was the triumph of the Maeronicans. The cry of exultation which greeted the fall of their dreaded enemy was turned into a howl of dismay as half a hundred fierce-eyed fighting men of Ruthar poured down the glen, waving their bared swords and shouting:
"For the Goddess Glorian! Slay the Maeronican dogs!"
That tide overwhelmed the company of Daelo to the last man, and with them died black Mordo. Less by one more fademe was the navy of King Bel-Ar.