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.