Adventure Magazine Cover — page 28: what you’re looking at

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

after a minute’s pause, he said hardly a dozen words. “Olaf Sigurdsen desires your friendship. He will obey you but none other!” the girl interpreted; then added; ‘he means by that——” __ “TI know what he means by that!’ Tros interrupted, and turned to Conops, who was listening with unconcealed but mixed emotions. He pointed toward the North- man’s ax, its blade buried deep in the wood- work of the citadel. | “Bring it and return it to him!” Conops never disobeyed; but he obeyed that order like a dog sent to the kennel, taking his time about wrenching the ax free, and longer still about returning with it. Tros snatched it from his hand impatiently and offered it hilt-first to Sigurdsen: “Now let me hear your promise as a free TMman with a weapon in your hand!” he said deliberately. ‘Speak it without guile, as in the presence of your fathers’ gods! For by the gods of earth and heaven I need friends!” he added to himself. But Conops swore Greek oaths below his breath, and glared at Sigurdsen as a dog glares at a new, prospective ken- nel-mate. CHAPTER V A MAN NAMED SKELL RETURNS FROM GAUL ASWALLON returned to the forest battlefield to count Norse prisoners and to look after wounded. Britons, without speaking again to Tros. Even Orwic only waved a noncommittal farewell, and Tros was left alone with two ships, fifteen pris- oners, and only Conops to help him manage them. ‘The twenty hired seamen had re- turned from over river, but they were cer- tain to be enemies, not friends. The seamen demanded. weapons, intimat- ing that the prisoners might make a break for liberty; but their own only reason for staying was that Tros had not paid them, and he more than suspected they would try to pay themselves if provided with more than their own short, seamen’s knives. Even unarmed they were deadly unreli- able; Caswallon’s men who had gone down the riverbank in pursuit of the one boat- load of Northmen that escaped Tros’ arrow- ire would be sure to pass news along, so it would be only a matter of time before scores Adventure of longshore pirates would come hurrying in hope of loot. Tros’ hirelings would help them strip away everything portable, after which they would probably burn both ships in a wanton passion of destruction. Meanwhile, tide was flowing; both ships lay fast on the mud, no hope of moving either of them until long after dark. The druids carried wounded and dead ashore; chariots arrived, as by a miracle, from no- where and galloped away with their burden around a clump of trees and ovér the sky- line. There was no road in that direction, therefore, no prospect of assistance; the tracks the wheels cut in the turf were new, nearly at right angles to the riverbank, and not even approximately parallel to the direc- tion from which the chariots had arrived. To reach Lunden would take several hours of drifting, and the distance very likely was too great for one tide, which would have to rise to three-quarters of its flow before it could lift the ships; and even so, the bireme would have to be pumped out. So Tros took a course few men would have dared to take; he returned their weapons to his prisoners, and brought them all up on the bireme’s poop, where they could have overwhelmed him easily. He could not understand their speech, nor they his; there ‘was only Helma to act interpreter, and her smile proved that she understood Tros’ predicament. Her words confirmed it— “T have pledged no friendship!’ “Have I asked it?’ Tros demanded, staring at her. He felt inclined to box her ears, hardly knew why he refrained. Her eyes challenged his, but Tros seized the upper hand of her abruptly: ‘“‘Make me a bandage for this cut on my cheek!” ‘There is Zorn’s wife!” “T commanded you.” He pointed to a box of loosely woven linen stuff that the druids had left on the deck. “Very well.” 3 She smiled in a way that implied a threat, which Tros perfectly understood; he had heard that the Norse women were adept with poison. “Tell a seaman to carry it here,” she added; and for the space of ten more seconds she defied him. “You fetch it!” comicbooks.com (@)