“Lord, many of them had followed the Lord Romanos into the defiles, and there was no time to recall them. There were some who remained, but they were killed or driven back. And the Roumis have captured the hermitage of Akri, for all the men there had departed.”
“Akri lost?” cried Maurice. The blow was a heavy one, for the post commanded both the lines of Karakula in front of it and the next line of defence in the rear. “Is there no one left? Where is the picked force?”
“They are all gone across the isthmus, lord. When the message came from the Lord Romanos, an hour before dawn, only the picked force were summoned, but all the rest went also, saying they would get food for themselves, since it was not given them.”
“A message? to the force—not to me?”
“I know not, lord. Gatso the fisherman brought it.”
Maurice turned to the ex-brigand Zeko. “Find Gatso, if he is anywhere inside the lines, and bring him to me,” he said. “Come on, the rest of you.”
As they hurried on along the precipitous paths, it became clear from the sound of the firing that the inner line of defences was being attacked, and when they reached them, crawling on hands and knees for the last part of the way, they were a welcome reinforcement to the defenders. The Roumis had not yet realised the full advantage given them by the possession of the height of Akri, from which they could have rendered the lower breastworks untenable, but their riflemen were keeping up a heavy fire from cover in front. Maurice divided the men who had come with him, sending parties away on both sides to reinforce the weakest points, and taking the rifle of a man who had been killed, settled himself at a loophole in the breastwork at which he had first arrived, which was that commanding the chief path into the interior. In the intervals of firing he questioned the men on either side as to the events of the morning, of which their impressions were somewhat hazy. The message brought by Gatso in the darkness, to the effect that Prince Romanos had discovered a large provision-convoy, on its way from Therma, halted outside the Roumi camp, and that he was about to attack it immediately, had drawn away more than half of the Karakula force, while the garrisons of Akri and other isolated points had deserted en masse. They had crossed the isthmus and entered the defiles without alarm, and those left behind had thought of nothing but what was going on beyond the hills. Even the consciousness of superior virtue could not keep them from grumbling as they gathered round their fires and made coffee at dawn, and into the midst of their grumbling came the volley which told them that the Roumis had landed. During Wylie’s illness, a number of lazy men, who found it took them too long to go round the marsh, had made a rough path across it with hurdles and bundles of reeds, intending, of course, to remove these stepping-stones at the first hint of a landing. They had not had time to do so, however, and the Roumis, landing unobserved in the twilight, had stolen up, and were inside the defences before their presence was even suspected. Taken absolutely by surprise, the defenders fought like heroes, and succeeded in keeping back their assailants sufficiently to secure their own retreat on the second line, only to discover that this disastrous morning’s work had been crowned by the abandonment of Akri, up which two or three daring Roumis crept, to find themselves, much to their elation, masters of the position. Until they should occupy it in force, matters remained at a standstill, both sides firing at each other from cover, and neither venturing to show themselves. In this interval a diversion was caused by the entrance into Maurice’s redoubt of the stalwart Zeko, dragging and pushing a protesting Greek.
“Gatso the fisherman, lord,” he announced, with a final shove that cast his victim prone at Maurice’s feet. “I found him hiding in a cave on the way to Ephestilo.”
Gatso protested incoherently as he knelt that he had given his message word for word. The Lord Romanos had indeed discovered a rich convoy, only waiting to be attacked, and had despatched him with the news, which he had duly delivered. Maurice interrupted him.
“To whom were you told to take the news?” he demanded.