Adventure Magazine Cover — page 48: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

46 counter-shout, that served until Orwic’s summons on a silver bugle brought a dozen chariots charging from the stable to clear the green of friend and enemy alike. The crowd did not even try to stand against the chariots, although the front ones had no scythes fixed to the wheels. But there were two chariots in the rear that could have mown a crimson swath. “And now swiftly!’ said Tros, when Or- wic strolled back to the porch trying to look Seli-possessed. ‘‘Where are those North- men prisoners Caswallon took in the fight in the forest?”’ “What of them? There are only three- and-twenty, some of them pretty badly hurt,’ said Orwic. “Where are they? I know mobs! Your Britons will say that it was Northmen who snatched that woman away. They will kill those three-and-twenty! Then, they will come to kill my twelve and Sigurdsen! Then me, then you!” “Bah! Who cares if they kill Northmen!”’ Orwic answered. “I for one!\ Blood-lust grows. kill Caswallon next! Smuggle those pris- oners to this place. Start a hue-and-cry at Skell’s heels; that fox will give them a run to keep ali Lunden busy! Send for Caswal- Jon then, and bid him hurry. Bid him bring Fflur with him!” Orwic hesitated, but Tros took him by the shoulders. “Am I friend or enemy?” he thundered. “Boy! That woman will win Britain for Cesar yet unless you act swiftly!” Orwic yielded only half convinced and hugried away to instruct his friends, shut- ting the great gate and posting guards to keep another crowd from forming. Tros strode into the house, swaggering as if he owned it. Cornelia was seated near Cas- wallon’s great chair under the balcony at one end of the hall; her dress was ruffled and a little torn, but she was laughing at the men who stared at her, and she mocked Tros, gesturing at Helma: “Ah! You seize me, when you have that beautiful fair-haired prisoner! _What use for poor me, when——’’ I have a use for you!”’ Tros interrupted; and the hall grew still. ‘You were Cesar’s slave. Now you are mine!” She was startled, but the scared look vanished in an instant; she had the profes- sional intriguer’s self-control. It was Helma They will- Adventure who turned pale and came and stood beside Tros, watching his face. a -“Tros!” said the woman of Gaul, speaking: Latin, ““Ceesar told me you are proud, and full of guile, and a great keeper of rash promises. You promised him enmity. You wrecked his fleet. You forged Cesar’s name and stole your father from the grip of three camped legions. “That was an indignity to Rome as wellas Cesar. You sunk Cesar’s boats; you slew his men; you ducked Cesar himself in the tide at Seine-mouth. So you kept your rash promise. “Yet Cesar’s magnanimity is greater than the malice that pursues him. He is willing to forgive. He offers you full recog- nition by the Roman Senate and command of fifty ships, if you withdraw your enmity and promise him allegiance! J am Cesat’s messenger, not your slave.” Tros answered her in Gaulish— “When I need fifty of Czesar’s ships, I will take them without his leave or Rome’s!”” But that was for the Britons’ ears. He had in mind more than to bandy words. “Tros ” she began again. “Silence!’”? he commanded. Then he pointed to the door of an inner room between the great hall and Caswal- lon’s quarters. Helma bit her lip, and several of the men-at-arms laughed loud. But Tros kept on pointing, and he looked imperious in Cesar’s scarlet cloak. So Cornelia rose out of her chair, bowed, smirked almost imperceptibly at Helma, and let the way in through the door, glanc- ing over-shoulder in a way that gave Tros pause. He beckoned Helma. “Bring your brother’s. wife and the widow!” he commanded. So three Norse women followed Tros into the dimly lighted. room; and one of them knew Gaulish. There were benches in there for men-at-arms, and one chair, on which Cornelia sat uninvited, arranging her draperies to show the shapely outline of her figure. Tros slammed the door and slid the wood- en bolt in place, with a nod to Helma and the other women to be seated on the bench- es. He seized Cornelia’s chair then and dragged it into the shaft of light that fell through the one small window. He craved sleep, and had not time to waste. “Turn your face to the light!” he com- manded. “Keep it so! Now, no evasions! Gomichboo cS com