But not in vain had Captain Thalakka died. For at his words a tremendous surge, like the lifting of high sea-waters, swelled through the prison-pens. And scarce had he fallen than a prisoner had whipped the sword from his hands to spring forward. Another ... and another ... and the slaves were plunging through the gates like an unleashed flood.
In vain, now, the arrows of the defenders hurtled into the roaring throng. Where one man fell, there were a dozen to charge forward over his body. This was no trained army, crisp, cool, efficient. This was a mob, a mob of men who had tasted slavery—and were now free to turn on their foes with naked hands and claws.
Like beasts they smashed across the courtyard to the ramparts, crushing beneath them all who strove to stay their passage. Like animals they clambered up the walls, flung the Videlians from their posts down to blood-lusting fellows below who literally ripped the Martian guards into bits.
And—the ramparts fell! Nor did Vibhishana give his enemy time to recuperate from this mortal below. Cheers rose from the loyalist camp, and up the beach stormed the followers of the former regent. Fighting side-by-side with the rebel slaves, they smashed the last, feeble resistance of Ravana's garrison. Then a guidon raised aloft, calling urgent invitation. The host of skating-bugs stirred into motion. And within the space of minutes, the first Gaanelian craft had moored at the docks of Lanka!
Not at all surprisingly, it was Red Barrett—the scrapping old redhead himself—who sprang from the first of the skiffs to dock. Close behind him came Syd O'Brien. The two were met and greeted by Ramey Winters who, with Tauthus, had scorned any slower method of gaining the scene of victory than to clamber headlong and recklessly down the rough walls from the balcony.
Thus, for the first time since ever war's hot flame had breathed over Lanka, met face to face all the captains. In triumphant conclave they gathered, all those who actively led fighting forces. Vibhishana and Tauthus of Cush, Ramey and Red Barrett, Syd O'Brien. Yet was their joy not complete. For there was one of their number fallen—Thalakka. And yet another whose part in the battle was ended.
"It's all right, Syd," repeated Lake O'Brien. "It's all right, I tell you. I—I don't feel any pain. It's just that I can't see."
Syd O'Brien's face was a thunder-cloud of rage. "We will find him, Lake," he promised. "And when we do—" His strong, freckled hands whitened on the butt of his revolver. Here was one from whom the Lord Ravana could expect no grain of mercy should their paths ever cross.
Vibhishana said, "Lord Lakshmana must return to the mainland shore. If anyone can repair his vision, that one is the Lord Sugriva. And it were best the girl return, too."