There was room and to spare for these haughty warriors to pass them by ... but such was not the way of the Magogean kraedaru. As the cavalry captain, drawing near, saw upon the street one cart which had not yet moved completely to the curb, one tiny knot of struggling serfs who had not as yet taken abject posts against the wall, a flush darkened his cheeks and his eyes darted anger. With a guttural cry he changed his troop's straightforward charge, bore directly down upon Dr. Kang and his "family." Then, at the last possible moment, when it seemed certain his armed warriors and their mounts must trample ruthlessly over the bodies of the trapped quintet, shattering their cart to splinters, he drew up his men, and, his voice heavy with rage, leaned from his saddle and cried to Dr. Kang:
"You there, slave—what means this? How dare you deliberately block our passage?"
The cavalry captain bore directly down on Dr. Kang's cart.
"Why, you—" began Lark O'Day.
But Lane, standing with his head abjectly bowed beside his friend, gripped the other man's wrist to silence him. And from the cart, Dr. Kang answered in a thin, meek voice;
"Forgiveness, Excellence. Your servants did not know—"