The Doomsman

  XII

  THE HEDGE OF ARROWS

  For the first few days following upon his arrival in the city, Constanskept under rover, venturing forth only after nightfall. He wanted tomake sure of all his bearings before taking any long step in advance,and the extent and strength of the enemy's defences particularlyinterested him. Fortunately for his purpose the weather was growingcolder every day, autumn having given place to winter much earlier thanusual, and on these chilly nights the Doomsmen were not inclined towander far abroad. By keeping closely to the side streets he ran butlittle risk of discovery through a chance encounter; at the same time hemust get inside the danger zone if he hoped to obtain any information ofvalue.

  Constans found the solution of his problem by betaking himself to thehouse-tops. Through the aid of a rope, furnished with cross-piecesinserted in the strands at regular intervals and a grappling-hook at thefree end, he could pass easily from roof to roof of contiguousbuildings, and so gain points of observation that otherwise he wouldnever have dared to approach.

  One of these aerial routes led from the side avenue on the east to amoderate-sized building situated on the Citadel Square and directlyoverlooking the fortress. Twice now he had ventured to spend the wholeof a day lying perdue in this convenient eyrie, his binoculars inconstant use, and what he saw and learned increased his thoughtfulness,although he would not let it shake his resolution.

  So far as he could judge, the Doomsmen could not be regarded asformidable through mere weight of numbers. Their available fightingforce Constans estimated at two hundred, which would indicate a totalpopulation of a round thousand. Now Croye alone was a city of fullfifteen hundred inhabitants, and the census of the West Inch should showtwice that number. In an open field, and man to man, the House-dwellerswere much more than a match for Dom Gillian's wolves.

  On the other hand, the Doomsmen were all trained warriors, and to smokethem out of their own nest--one would have to think twice about that.Here was a half-ruined city, several square miles in actual area, andsurrounded by unfordable tidal rivers. Deep at its heart was thecitadel, strongly built and abundantly supplied with water andprovisions. Under these circumstances it was a simple matter for a smallforce to maintain itself indefinitely; it would necessitate theemployment of an attacking army four or five times as large as thedefence to even up the chances. This, of course, on the presumption thatboth sides were armed alike. Constans's thoughts reverted to the fireartillery of the ancients; with that at his disposal he would hold thebalance of power. The possession of a single score of rifles shouldenable him to demonstrate the feasibility of the attempt to hissluggard kinsmen, the Stockaders, and to the even more reluctanttownsmen. He determined to take the first opportunity to make a carefulsearch of the city armories and ammunition depots; in the mean time, itwas his business to acquaint himself as thoroughly as possible with thematerial situation.

  The stronghold of the Doomsmen occupied the middle section of theancient city square. In shape it was an irregular oblong, the originalbuilders being apparently content to enclose sufficient space withoutreference to architectural symmetry. Its perimeter might be roughlyestimated at eight hundred yards, respectable proportions, andindicating a capacity to comfortably accommodate the whole population ofDoom should the necessity arise.

  The barricade was constructed of stone, principally paving-blocks tornup from the adjoining streets, and since the material was unlimited inquantity the walls were of massive proportions, sixteen feet in heightand nearly six feet in thickness at the bottom course. At the severalcorners stood towers elevated some ten feet above the wall veil andproperly loop-holed. Under the east and south walls and virtually builtinto them were a series of huts, which served as storehouses and forliving quarters in time of siege. At present these huts--low,uncomfortable-looking structures of stone and roofed with broad, flatflags--were untenanted save for the two or three used by the smallgarrison on duty. The western side of the enclosure was occupied almostentirely by storehouses for grain and other provisions; here, too, werepens for cattle on the hoof and immense cisterns for the storage ofdrinking-water. Somewhat to the south of the centre of the square stoodwhat appeared to be the administration building, a round, tower-likestructure, three stories in height and with enormously thick walls. Onecould fancy it the scene of a last stand in a lost cause.

  Directly opposite, in the north wall, was the gateway. It opened on tothe Palace Road, one of the principal avenues of the ancient city, andwas in the form of a vaulted passageway defended by flanking towers andsuperimposed battlements. A notable stronghold was this citadel of theDoomsmen, wisely planned and well built, and Constans could hardly fallinto the error of under-estimating its resources. For all that, he wouldnot acknowledge that it was impregnable; stone walls cannot standforever against stout hearts.

  Day by day went on and Constans kept adding steadily to his stock ofinformation. Most important of all, he had succeeded in definitelylocating the several positions of the enemy. It appeared that thedistrict actually inhabited by the Doomsmen included only the fortifiedsquare and a few of the city blocks contiguous to it on the north. Thedistance from the citadel to the library building and Dom Gillian'shouse was about a mile, and it was some five miles further to the tidalestuary which formed the northern boundary of the city proper. Of thevarious structures that had formerly spanned the stream, but one, theHigh Bridge, remained. Built of massive masonry, it had wonderfullyresisted the disintegrating processes of time, and stood to-day,immovable as the granite hills of which it formed the connecting link.Being the sole means of landward approach to Doom, it was guardedcarefully, and a detail from the general garrison was at all times onduty there.

  The final conclusion to which Constans arrived was that he had only toavoid the immediate neighborhood of the Palace Road and the CitadelSquare to pursue his investigations with entire safety. Accordingly hegrew venturesome, and began to go out-of-doors at all hours of the dayor night. And then on the fourteenth day after his arrival in the cityhis immunity came abruptly to an end.

  It was early in the forenoon, and Constans was exploring a quarter ofthe city that lay to the northeast of the Citadel Square. He becameinterested in the curious, bridgelike structure which spanned thestreet; enough of it remained standing to show him that it had beendesigned for overhead traffic, a highway in the air. There were therails, the signal-boxes, and other mysterious adjuncts of the ancientrailways; he had read about them in his books and he recognized them atonce.

  Now this particular section of the aerial railway must have been abranch line, for it ended abruptly in front of a building of unusualsize and consequent importance. Beyond this again could be seen asurface net-work of iron rails converging to the black mouth of a greattunnel--a highway under the earth. Constans felt a lively impulse topush his explorations further. This was evidently a terminal station ofthe wonderful steel roads of the ancients; within the building itself hemight reasonably expect to find some of the old-time engines and wagonswith which the traffic had been carried on.

  Passing through a central hall of fine proportions, Constans foundhimself standing under an immense arched structure of stone and iron andglass. The ancient car-shed, so Constans conjectured; then he pausedexcitedly before a long platform, at which stood a complete train, madeup and ready to start.

  Constans examined this new find with critical attention. The enormouslocomotive-engine, with its driving-wheels that stood higher than aman's head, impressed him mightily, for all that the monster's burningheart had grown cold and its stentor breathing had been hushed forever.He climbed into the cab and wondered hugely at the multiplicity ofstopcocks and levers and cabalistically lettered dials. It seemedincredible that the giant could have moved even his own weight, and yetthere was his appointed task strung out behind him, fifteen long andheavy vehicles--it was amazing!

  Behind the engine came the cars for luggage, piled high with bags andboxes, and then the regular train equipment, a long line of coaches.These
last were of the most luxurious pattern--that was plain to see,although the varnish had blistered on the panels and the silken curtainsat the windows hung in tatters. The last car of all had clearly been inservice as an eating apartment, and fortunately the doors of this coachhad been left closed and the windows remained intact. Constans enteredand looked about him, noting that the tables still bore their weight ofplate and china and napery. Most moving of all was the little nosegaythat stood in a tall glass at each cover. But even as he gazed,delighted that the flowers still retained recognizable shape, they brokeand crumbled into nothingness.

  It was difficult to understand why the train should have been abandoned,it being evident that it had stood here, ready for immediate departure,but the unquestionable fact may serve to emphasize again the suddennessof the final catastrophe. People had simply dropped and forgotteneverything. In the extremity of terror civilized man had become asavage, reverting to primeval instincts in preferring his legs to anyother means of escape. There was but one thing left for him--to runaway.

  It was a depressing experience to be standing solitary and alone underthese vast arches that had echoed to the tramp of feet innumerable. Asense of his loneliness pressed heavily upon Constans; then, suddenly,he became aware of the presence of a man, who stood leaning against apillar a short distance away and watched him from under close-knitbrows.

  The fair hair and frank, kindly face seemed dimly familiar to Constans;and what thighs and breadth of shoulder! The stranger stood little shortof gianthood, and Constans would have run small chance against him asman to man. Bitterly he regretted having left his bow behind; even hisdouble-edged hunting-knife was missing from his belt.

  The man walked deliberately forward to meet him. Certainly his dress andequipment proclaimed him a Doomsman, and by the same token he must haverecognized that Constans was an alien. Yet he smiled and held out hishand as he came up.

  "It is Constans, of course; for who else among the House People woulddare to cross the Gray Wolf's threshold. Do you not remember Ulick?"

  The two young men shook hands heartily, albeit a certain constraint wasimmediately to fall upon them. For Constans could not be unmindful ofhis purpose, and Ulick was a true Doomsman, and hatred of theHouse-dweller was the first article in his hereditary creed. Theinheritance of a naked sword lay between them. Was it not inevitablethat one or the other of them should be moved to take it up?

  It was Constans who realized that only frankness could save thesituation, and as they walked along he told Ulick the full story of theenmity between him and Quinton Edge, then of the years of hisapprenticeship to his Uncle Hugolin, and of the message in the bottlethat had served to crystallize desire into action. The purport of theletter was still fresh in his mind, and he repeated it as nearly as hecould word for word.

  "Esmay, did you say?" interrupted Ulick. "It was Esmay who helped metrap you. Don't you remember her eyes, brown and with a flame in themlike to the carbuncles in the bracelet that I gave her? Elena was hermother."

  Constans assented, indifferently. In truth, he had entirely forgottenabout the girl.

  "Ten days ago she disappeared," said Ulick, gloomily, "and not a traceof her have I been able to discover. Yet I believe that your friendQuinton Edge could tell me if he would."

  "I don't understand."

  "Nor does anybody else. For all that, I am sure that he does not wanther for himself; no woman has ever been able to boast that MasterQuinton Edge looked at her twice. Were it otherwise I think I should gomad."

  Constans shrugged his shoulders impatiently; then he looked up and sawthe pain in the big fellow's face. It touched him, although he could notcomprehend the weakness (for such it seemed to him), that had given itbirth.

  "If you could see her, you would understand," continued Ulick, as thoughdivining his thought. Again they walked along in silence. Constans brokeit abruptly:

  "And your grandsire, is he still living? I can see him yet, thatterrible old man who wanted to cut out my eyes and tongue so that youcould have a new toy."

  Ulick smiled, and the current of his darker mood was diverted.

  "Lucky for you that he fell asleep again before he could give the orderfor the irons to be heated. And so we ran away trembling, and I broughtyou to the vault underneath the sidewalk--do you remember?"

  "I remember," said Constans, briefly.

  "He is living still; think how old he must be! Nowadays he sleeps nearlyall the time; sometimes for a week on end he will not leave his couch inthe darkened room. Then again he will have himself apparelled and hisgreat sword girded upon him, and he will come down into the court-yardand walk in the sun for hours. You should see those lazy rascals ofguardsmen scatter at the first sight of him--like mice running to theirholes when puss begins to yawn and stretch herself."

  "You are still the heir?"

  "Yes, unless the council sees fit to set my rights aside in favor of mycousin Boris. To tell the truth, neither of us is fit to be chief inDoom while Quinton Edge lives."

  "Tell me."

  "Why, you see, Boris is a brute whose brains, such as he has, are alwaysfuddled with ale. And I----" Ulick stopped and laughed a littlesheepishly.

  "Well?"

  "Frankly, then, I don't want to carry the weight of the wolf-skin; Ishould feel like a man buried up to his neck in sand. I dreamed of thatthe other night, and how a raven that had Quinton Edge's face came andpecked at my eyes."

  "Then you really don't care," commented Constans, shrewdly.

  "No; except to have my fair share of the fighting and feasting--and, ofcourse, Esmay."

  Constans laughed. "You always come back to the girl."

  "How could it be otherwise, since I love her?" said Ulick, simply.

  Constans grew sober again. "Strange that it should be the same man,Quinton Edge, for whom we are both seeking. I can see, however, that myarrow must not leave the string until first you have had speech withhim."

  "But that is just what I cannot do," returned Ulick, with a frown. "Itis a week now that any one has seen him, and yet neither galley nortroop has left the city since the new moon."

  "He must show himself in time; we have only to wait."

  "Waiting! it is the one thing----"

  "Yet you must; the chance is certain to come. Only, if I help you inthis, then afterwards when you have learned what you want----"

  Ulick nodded. "Do what you will, but until then it is Esmay who standsfirst, and he lives under her shadow."

  The young men had been walking in the direction of the Citadel Square,and the time had come for Constans to decide whether or not he shouldgive Ulick his full confidence. Yesterday he had moved all hisbelongings to a large building on the south side of the squareoverlooking the fortress, and he was minded to establish himself therepermanently. It might seem foolhardy for him to take up his abode, notunder, indeed, but just above the noses of his enemies; in reality, hewas as safe in one place as in another. Here was an immense building,containing literally hundreds of apartments; it was like being in arabbit-warren, a labyrinth of passages and rooms that it would take aregiment to explore. He had only to observe reasonable prudence inentering and leaving his lair to be assured against the ordinary risksof discovery, and he depended, too, upon the obvious negligence of thesentinels. It was a simple application of the principle that what isnearest to the eye is oftenest overlooked.

  For where he stood he could see the huge bulk of the sky-scrapertowering into the blue. The building had been constructed upon a narrow,triangular plot of land, and its ground-plan bore a fanciful resemblanceto the shape of a flat-iron. Its acute angle was pointed towards them;one compared it instinctively to the prow of some gigantic ship of stoneploughing its way through billows of brick and mortar.

  "Come," said Constans, and Ulick, understanding the confidence about tobe reposed in him, followed silently.

  It was a small front-room on the third floor that Constans had fitted upas his abode, and after Ulick had passed approving judgment
upon hisfriend's domestic arrangement they walked over to the window and stoodthere looking down into the thoroughfare upon which the building faced.Formerly this open space had been paved with small oblong blocks ofstone, but these had long since been incorporated with the walls of thefortress, and in their stead was a stretch of thick, short turf. Pacingslowly along, there came in sight the figure of a man, his head bentdown and his hands clasped behind his back. Constans recognized himinstantly, even before Ulick's eager whisper had reached his ear. It wasQuinton Edge.

  Constans knew that he was doing a foolish thing, but the humor of themoment gripped him, and he yielded to it. To make sport of thisinsolent, and so wipe out, in some measure, the memory of his ownhumiliation--the temptation was too great to be resisted, and the nextinstant the bowstring twanged and an arrow plunged into the ground, ascant yard in front of Quinton Edge, and stuck there quivering.Involuntarily, the Doomsman stepped back and another arrow grazed hisheel; a half turn to the right and a third shaft sheared the curlingostrich-plume from his hat. A fourth arrow to the left of him, and thenQuinton Edge understood. He drew himself up and stood still while adozen more skilfully directed bolts winged their way to complete thebarbed circle that hemmed him in. And each missile bore its individualmessage to his memory--a tiny tuft of scarlet inserted in thefeathering.

  Quinton Edge waited an instant or so, as though out of pure politeness,then turned and faced the great building that towered mountainouslyabove his head. There were hundreds of window openings in the tremendousfacade of the "Flat-iron," and he had no means of guessing the preciseone in whose deep embrasure his enemy stood concealed; at any moment hemight expect the final shaft striking home to his heart and staining itsfeathering all crimson in his life blood. Yet there was no hint ofperturbation in the affected languor of his voice; he bowed slightly andspoke:

  "What a sorry marksman! See! I will give you a final chance to hit thegold. Make the most of it, for here in Doom no man's hair grows longenough to hide a nicked ear."

  He threw back his cloak of crimson cloth and unbuttoned the white,ruffled shirt that he wore underneath, exposing his naked throat andbreast. And not an eyelash quivered, while he stood there for the spacein which one might count a score slowly.

  "As you please, then," he continued, readjusting his garments withpunctilious care. "I must warn you, however, that standing so long inthis chilly air may mean the influenza for me. By the Shining One! if wekeep on like this the interest due on our little account is likely toexceed in amount the original principal. That would be a pity ashappening between gentlemen, who know naturally nothing of what theycall business and have no desire to cheat each other."

  "AN INSTANT LATER THE BOWSTRING TWANGED"]

  Then he laughed heartily, unaffectedly. "What a comedy! and you and Icast for the fools in it. Which is the bigger one neither of us shouldbe willing to say. And for the best of reasons, we don't know. Mycompliments, brother imbecile, and so good-day."

  Quinton Edge doffed his hat as though to intimate that the interview wasat an end, then stepped lightly across the hedge of arrows and proceededat an even pace to the eastern angle of the fortress, around which hedisappeared.

  Ulick's eyes were sparkling as he turned to Constans.

  "He is at least a man," he said, half proudly, half enviously.

  But Constans only set his teeth the harder. "I could have gone out, methim face to face and killed him," he said, sombrely, "only for you andyour Esmay."