Part 20 (1/2)

”No. The entrance is narrow. You would be in the way,” Gunnar protested.

”Now, go! Oh, but the valkyries will be busy tonight!”

Ato and Odin led the rush down the stairs. There were only a dozen men below and they had already tired of warfare. Three fell and the others rushed off into the shadows.

Ato's and Maya's fighters tumbled after them. There were only a few of the old people and children left.

Now they found themselves in a huge room which was filled with benches and small machines. It was evidently a wood-working shop. The room was lit by several of the high-flaring cressets of stone. It was rectangular, about the size of a football field. They were fortunate that there was no heavy machinery left here. From each side, dim-lighted tunnels led off into the distance. While Odin and the strongest soldiers guarded, Ato and his people shoved benches, tables and chairs to the four tunnels and set them afire.

There were still quite a number of benches left, and some of these were stacked close together into one corner of the room, making a sort of rude balcony that looked down upon the littered floor. More benches and machines were left. These were made into a barricade a few yards in front of the balcony.

All was done now that could be done. So Odin rushed back to the stairway to help Gunnar. But his heart sank as he stood at the foot of the stairs.

Up there was nothing but swirling, violet flame. Some liquid was burning furiously at the entrance-way, and blazing rivulets were pouring down the steps. There was no way to go through those flames. There was now no way to go around. Gunnar, if he lived at all, must fight alone. And Odin's eyes filled with tears as he cursed himself for deserting his old comrade.

The attackers were almost upon Gunnar before the last of Maya's rag-tag army had gone down the stairs. There were high bannisters around the entrance-way. These afforded plenty of protection to his back and flanks unless someone scaled them, which he doubted. One of the heavy cressets was burning nearby. It seemed to be no more than a huge, open lamp. Standing upon a circular base about three feet across, the twelve-inch stem went up nearly eight feet and then flared out into a tulip-shaped bowl that was filled with flickering violet fire. Bending low, Gunnar grasped the bottom of the stem and moved it a little closer to the stairway entrance. It took all of his strength, but it moved, complaining as it slid along the flagging. Now he was almost under it. The light was in his opponents'

faces, and it gave a little added protection to his left side.

Gunnar braced himself, his long blade high over his shoulder, both hands locked to the long carved haft.

”Grim Hagen,” he called mockingly. ”Here we are at the edge of the stars.

Just you and I left on top of this world. Just you and I of the two crews that sailed from Opal. The mad G.o.ds have made bonfires of the suns.

Ragnarok has come and pa.s.sed. I have no quarrel with these people, Grim Hagen. Come forward now and let the two of us end what should have been ended long ago--”

Grim Hagen silenced his men and screamed back: ”Gunnar, what I say now I have said before. I promised you death. But I will let you go free--and all the frightened rats below can go free--if you will give me Wolden's secret--”

”I know nothing of Wolden's secret. It may be nothing but a twitch in your mad brain. The old Blood-Drinker and I know but one secret, Grim Hagen, the secret of death. Step forth like a man now and I promise you more peace than even Wolden's secret could give you.”

Grim Hagen said no more to Gunnar. He sent four companies in the direction of other entrances to the underground city. Then he martialled his remaining men and threw them toward Gunnar in threes.

Three by three they came, and three by three they went down. Braced on his strong, short legs Gunnar flailed them like wheat. Screams and curses filled the night. And Gunnar piled the dead before him.

One by one the companies returned to Grim Hagen and reported that for the present there was no other way into the room below.

Grim Hagen held a short council of war. He had less than a score of the white-skinned soldiers left. These he sent at Gunnar in a body, and came following after with the remaining Lorens.

Gunnar cut them down, but a leaping soldier died as he buried his knife in Gunnar's side. The Lorens were throwing sticks and stones when they could.

They closed in like dogs upon a wolf. Gunnar reeled back and then advanced once more as he swung his broadsword.

He cleared a path and sent his attackers back until they stood about him in a circle, their fangs ready.

And then Gunnar reached forth and took the stem of the huge torch high up in his hands and bowed his back. The lamp rocked upon its pedestal and then came cras.h.i.+ng forward. Its fuel spilled down and caught fire as it fell.

Flames leaped up and lashed out at the Lorens.

The fierce flames drove the attackers farther back. But in falling, the great lamp careened and half of its liquid had splashed across the entrance to the tunnel. It caught fire. Gunnar gasped as it struck him. Then he strode forward, like a dwarf-king advancing from h.e.l.l.

A thrown knife caught him in the chest. Gunnar took another step, and another knife caught him below the throat. He stood there, trying to go on, and a mace thudded against his temple.