When the door had closed on the Royal Dragon, King Terribus turned
again to Prince Marvel, while his crimson face glowed with
embarrassment, and his front eye rolled with baffled rage as he
thought how vain had been all his efforts to kill this impudent
invader of his domains.
But his powers were by no means exhausted. He was a mighty king--the
mightiest of all in the Enchanted Island, he believed--and ways to
destroy his enemies were numerous.
"Send for a hundred of my Gray Men!" he suddenly cried; and a courtier
ran at once to summon them. The Gray Men would obey his orders
without question, he well knew. They were silent, stubborn, quick,
and faithful to their king. Terribus had but to command and his will
would be obeyed.
They entered the room so quietly that Nerle never knew they were there
until he turned and found the hundred gray ones standing close
together in the center of the hall. Then Prince Marvel came to
Nerle's side and whispered something in his ear.
"Will you obey my orders?" they heard the king ask. And the Gray Men,
with their eyes fixed upon their master, nodded all their hundred
heads and put their hands upon the dangerous three-tined forks that
were stuck in every one of the hundred belts.
Prince Marvel handed one end of a coiled rope to Nerle, and then they
both sprang forward and ran around the spot where the hundred Gray Men
stood huddled together. Then they were pulled closer together than
before--closer, and still closer--for the prince and Nerle had
surrounded them with the rope and were tying the two ends together in
a tight knot. The rope cut into the waists of those on the outside,
and they pressed inward against their fellows until there was scarcely
space to stick a knife-blade between any two of them. When the prince
had tied the rope firmly King Terribus, who had been looking on
amazed, saw that his hundred Gray Men were fastened together like a
bundle of kindling-wood, and were unable to stir hand or foot.
And, while he still gazed open-mouthed at the strange sight, Prince
Marvel tilted the bundle of men up on its edge and rolled it out of
the door. It went rolling swiftly through the courtyard and bounded
down the castle steps, where the rope broke and the men fell sprawling
in all directions on the marble walk.
King Terribus sighed, for such treatment of his Gray Men, whom he
dearly loved, made him very unhappy.
But more than ever was he resolved to kill these impudent strangers,
who, in the very heart of his kingdom where thousands bowed to his
will, dared openly defy his power. So, after a moment's thought,
Terribus beckoned to a dwarf who, robed in gay and glittering apparel,
stood near his throne.
"Summon the royal Dart Slingers!" he said, with a scowl.
The little man bowed and hastened away, to return presently with
twenty curiously crooked dwarfs, each armed with a sling and a quiver
full of slender, sharp-pointed darts.
"Slay me these strangers!" exclaimed the king, in his gruffest voice.
Now Nerle, when he beheld these terrible Dart Slingers, of whom he had
heard many tales in his boyhood, began to shiver and shake with
fright, so that his teeth rattled one upon another. And he reflected:
"Soon shall I be content, for these darts will doubtless pierce every
part of my body."
The dwarfs formed a line at one side of the gloomy throne-room, and
Prince Marvel, who had been earnestly regarding them, caught Nerle by
the arm and led him to the opposite wall.
"Stand close behind me and you will be safe," he whispered to his esquire.
Then each dwarf fixed a dart in his sling, and at a word from their
chief they all drew back their arms and launched a shower of the sharp
missiles at the strangers.
Swift and true they sped, each dart intended to pierce the body of the
youthful knight who stood so calm before them. Prince Marvel had
raised his right arm, and in his hand was a small leather sack, with a
wide mouth. As the darts flew near him a strange thing happened: they
each and all swerved from their true course and fell rattling into the
leathern sack, to the wonder of the royal slingers and the dismay of
King Terribus himself.
"Again!" screamed the king, his usually mild voice hoarse with anger.
So again the dwarfs cast their darts, and again the leathern sack
caught them every one. Another flight followed, and yet another, till
the magic sack was packed full of the darts and not a dwarf had one
remaining in his quiver.
Amid the awed silence of the beholders of this feat the merry laughter
of Prince Marvel rang loud and clear; for the sight of the puzzled and
terrified faces about him was very comical. Plucking a dart from the
sack he raised his arm and cried:
"Now it is my turn. You shall have back your darts!"
"Hold!" shouted the king, in great fear. "Do not, I beg you, slay my
faithful servants." And with a wave of his hand he dismissed the
dwarfs, who were glad to rush from the room and escape.
Nerle wiped the tears from his eyes, for he was sorely disappointed at
having again escaped all pain and discomfort; but Prince Marvel seated
himself quietly upon a stool and looked at the scowling face of King
Terribus with real amusement.
The monarch of Spor had never before been so foiled and scorned by any
living creature. Defeated and humbled before his own people, he bowed
his crimson head on his hands and sullenly regarded his foe with his
top eye. Then it was that the idea came to him that no ordinary
mortal could have thwarted him so easily, and he began to fear he was
dealing--perhaps unawares--with some great magician or sorcerer. That
a fairy should have assumed a mortal form he never once considered,
for such a thing was until then unheard of in the Enchanted Island of
Yew. But with the knowledge that he had met his master, whoever he
might prove to be, and that further attempts upon the stranger's life
might lead to his own undoing, King Terribus decided to adopt a new
line of conduct, hoping to accomplish by stratagem what he could not
do by force. To be sure, there remained his regiment of Giants, the
pride of his kingdom; but Terribus dreaded to meet with another
defeat; and he was not at all sure, after what had happened, that the
giants would succeed in conquering or destroying the strangers.
"After all," he thought, "my only object in killing them was to
prevent their carrying news of my monstrous appearance to the outside
world; so if I can but manage to keep them forever in my kingdom it
will answer my purpose equally well."
As the result of this thought he presently raised his head and spoke
to Prince Marvel in a quiet and even cheerful voice.
"Enough of these rude and boisterous games," said he, with a smile
that showed his white teeth in a repulsive manner. "They may have
seemed to my people an ill welcome to my good friend, Prince Marvel;
yet they were only designed to show the powers of the mighty magician
who has become my guest. Nay, do not deny it, Prince; from the first
I guessed your secret, and to prove myself right I called my servants
to oppose you, being sure they could not do you an injury. But no
more of such fooling,--and pray forgive my merry game at your expense.
Henceforth we shall be friends, and you are heartily welcome to the
best my kingdom affords."
With this speech Terribus stepped down from his throne and approached
Prince Marvel with outstretched hand. The prince was not at all
deceived, but he was pleased to see how cunningly the king excused his
attempts to kill him. So he laughed and touched the hand Terribus
extended, for this fairy prince seemed to have no anger against any
mortal who ventured to oppose him.
The strangers were now conducted, with every mark of respect, to a
beautiful suite of apartments in the castle, wherein were soft beds
with velvet spreads, marble baths with perfumed waters, and a variety
of silken and brocaded costumes from which they might select a change
of raiment.
No sooner had they bathed and adorned themselves fittingly than they
were summoned to the king's banquet hall, being escorted thither by
twelve young maidens bearing torches with lavender-colored flames.
The night had fallen upon the mountains outside, but the great banquet
hall was brilliant with the glow of a thousand candles, and seated at
the head of the long table was King Terribus.
Yet here, as in the throne-room, the ruler of Spor was dressed in
simplest garments, and his seat was a rough block of stone. All about
him were lords and ladies in gorgeous array; the walls were hung with
rare embroideries; the table was weighted with gold platters and
richly carved goblets filled with sweet nectars. But the king
himself, with his horrid, ugly head, was like a great blot on a fair
parchment, and even Prince Marvel could not repress a shudder as he
gazed upon him.
Terribus placed his guest upon his right hand and loaded him with
honors. Nerle stood behind the prince's chair and served him
faithfully, as an esquire should. But the other servants treated
Nerle with much deference, noting in him an air of breeding that
marked him the unusual servant of an unusual master.
Indeed, most curious were the looks cast on these marvelous men who
had calmly walked into the castle of mighty Terribus and successfully
defied his anger; for in spite of his youthful appearance and smiling
face every attendant at the banquet feared Prince Marvel even more
than they feared their own fierce king.