Alan raised his head and clenched his jaw a moment, and his trembling stopped. "May I take the ring?" he asked presently, in a voice he could not quite control.

"It belongs to the son of the one who wore it."

Alan removed the ring reverently and slipped it on his own finger. Then he rose, and they went on without look- ing back.

Streaks of dim light guided them to the door of the chamel chamber, over piles of fresh bodies which Hal examined hastily and turned from in relief. They extin- guished their lantern and hid it among the gruesome con- tents of that cellar. On the threshold they listened a moment. The door was not barred; who would think to prevent the dead from escaping? So, hearing no voices or footsteps on the other side, they pushed it open.

Far above. Lord Roran lay in the darkness of his cell. The barred window overhead told him that it was night, but he did not sleep. He could not think. He had lost track of the days, for his head was light with hunger.

Nothing but moldy bread and stale water had passed his lips. The first day he had been given a morsel of rotten meat, not fit for dogs, and he had scorned it. The guards had jeered at him. "By this time next week," they had laughed, **you will be ready to beg for such as that." They were right

Since then they had paid him no unwelcome attention.

His lump of bread and pannikin of water were wordlessly thrust at him each day. But now he heard the sound of harsh laughter approaching. The creaky door of his cell swung open and a body was thrown roughly on the stone floor Just out of his reach. As the door crashed to and the men tramped noisily away, the still form on the stones stirred and moaned.

"Father?"

"RobinI" Roran sprang to the end of his fetters like a maddened dog on a chain, lunging and wrenching in his frenzy to reach his son. It was no use, and as he sank

194 THE SILVER SUN.

back in the straw, exhausted, he heard Robin whispering, "Father, don't..."

"Robbie," sobbed Roran, "what have they done to you?"

"Father, pray stop. Your tears hurt me worse than the blows."

Roran lay still, collecting himself. When he spoke again, his voice was calmer. He could tell from Robin's panting that his son struggled to suppress great pain.

"I am better now, Robin. Tell me the truth. What have they done to you?"

"They have tied my hands behind my back, and forced a spear through my legs behind the knees." Robin could not quite steady his voice. "I cannot move without crip- pling myself- I cannot come closer to you." There was a long silence. Finally Robin asked, "Have you seen Cory?"

"Nay." How like him to ask for Cory, Roran thought with painful pride. Since that autumn day nearly two years before, the boys had been inseparable. Boysl No more. In that time they had grown to tall youths, skilled in the arts of war and peace, bold in body and mind, and as alike in their regard for each other as they were dif- ferent in appearance. Trust each to think of the other be- fore himself!

"I hope he has not been hurt," Robin whispered.

"Probably they do not realize how high he stands in our affections, or that he knows anything. . . ."

Slowly the last phrase sank into Roran's mind. "Any- thing about what?"

"Hal. They kept asking me about him. I told them that I knew nothing of him, but it seems they do not believe me." ,

"Hall" breathed Roran. "So that is what this coil is for!" Abruptly he shouted, "Guard!"

"Father! What are you doing?"

"If it will get that spear out of your legs, I will tell them an earful about Hal! Ay. I would lead them to his front door if he had one!"

"Father, nay! You must not betray him. Do you think it would make any difference, even if you did? They would kill us all the sooner, having had their purpose of us."

"Better even that than this," grated Roran hoarsely.

"Guard!" His mind was numb and fixed in his despair.

The Dark Tower 19S

"Father." There was a tone in Robin's voice that cut through the haze of Roran's wretchedness, a note of lov- ing command that could not be ignored. "Let them slay me if they must, but do not let them torture my heart, Father! Do not let them change you."

Roran lay panting in his filthy straw. He was exhausted, too exhausted to feel or think, but suddenly the situation presented itself to him with a clarity that reached beyond hope or fear to the depths of his soul.

"So you want to fight them, Robbie." His voice was as calm as if he were discussing a day's plans, but full of proud affection.

"Ay. They can have my body and welcome, so long as I keep my soul, and you yours."

"You have saved it for me. my marvelous son. We will fight them together."

When the key turned in the lock and the door swung open, Roran looked up with fortitude, expecting the tor- turers. But it was Hal and Alan who entered his cell.

Between them walked a pallid guard, and the Tower keys dangled in Hal's hand.

In the copse beyond the walls, Trigg struggled against sleep as the night wore on. He sat on the ground between the horses and nodded. But suddenly his head snapped up, and he jumped to his feet. The night rang with the hor- rible shrieks of men in mortal terror. The black windows of the Tower came ablaze with torchlight. Trigg blinked in disbelief. Panic-stricken guards were leaping from the windows to an ugly death on the hard ground below.

Others ran out through the courtyard or atop the walls.

The shrieking continued, and the windows of the keep beyond the Tower began to glow bright. Then the postern gate in the Tower wall swung open, and in the torchlight Trigg could see people streaming to freedom. They did not run or scream. Some tottered on maimed legs, sup- ported by others almost as weak. Some had unbandaged stumps of fingers or arms. Some had blind sockets for eyes, and were led by others almost as blind from long darkness. All of them moved off quietly, turning pale, smil- ing faces to the night sky.

In the midst of this strange procession came Hal, carry- ing someone wrapped in his cloak. At first sight of him,

196 THE SILVER SUN.

Trigg crawled onto Arundel's back, gathered Alfie's reins in one hand, and sent the horses toward him.

He felt as if he were being pushed through a solid wall made of nothing but fear. He lay flat on Arundel's back and tried not to let the darkness crush his lungs.

He thought that bis head would burst with souodlessness, but he could not scream. He believed that he was slipping, falling to his death. With the last of his strength, he forced his arm around the warmth of ArundeFs neck.

Then, just as he felt his senses leaving him, he seemed to burst through.

He sat up, bewildered, smiling. The whole world was filled with friendship and praise. Just ahead was Hal, calling him proudly by name. Trigg slipped lightly to the ground and looked at the still form in Hal's arms. It was a dark-haired youth, his face deathly white, with ugly knots and cuts all over his head.

"Water," directed Hal rapidly. "And any food that we have, give to those who need it most. Then go help Alan at the stable."

Trigg hastily handed out bread and dried meat. The people took it quietly, with wondering thanks. When it was all gone, he ran to find Alan deeply enmeshed in a welter of saddles and bridles. The stable was empty of its staff, the doors ajar, horses streaming out into the coun- tryside like the prisoners. Alan held a dozen or so steeds clustered around him by the power of the Elder Tongue, and even Trigg's unpracticed eye could see that they were some of the finest in Isle. They slung gear OD them as quickly as possible and trotted them around to the postern gate.

Hal was still working over the injured boy while Roran and his retainers stood by. Hurriedly Trigg and Alan helped them onto their horses. Hal carried Robin on Arundel before him. Trigg had a steed to himself. This made him anxious, for he was no horseman, but he need not have worried. The spirited creatures stood like statues while Hal and Alan bid their farewells to the spirits. When the deep voices came out of the night air, Trigg was sur- prised; but he was no longer afraid.

They rode hard for the remainder of the night. Before many miles had passed, Lord Roran dropped his reins and slumped in the saddle. Alan slung him across the

The Dark Tower 197

horse and secured him as best he could; then they pressed on. One by one the retainers also toppled from the weak- ness of their starvation. By dawn, only a few were still upright.

At first light, Hal found a spring of clear water with trees growing around, and there they stopped. Alan and Trigg got the men off their horses and rolled in blan- kets on the ground. Then Trigg went to see if he could help Hal, who had Robin beside the spring, changing the hasty dressings he had put on in the Tower. Trigg had not realized how badly the youth was injured. Neither, apparently, had Cory, for he fainted at the sight. Trigg caught him as he fell, and carried him off to a blanket on the other side of the spring.

"No wonder," muttered Hal as Trigg assisted him.

"He's been starved for a week and a half. And he's one of the lucky ones, in the Tower. Did you see the others, Trigg? The tortured and maimed. ... By blood, I'd for- gotten how horrible . . ." Hal gulped and stopped, dab- bing fiercely at Robin's wounds.

"But did ye see their faces?" Trigg exclaimed. "Full of peace 'n* wonder, despite their hurts. D'ye know what ye've done, Hal? Ye've breached the TowerI All of Isle will be abuzz with it."

"The Tower will be as full as ever in a week," Hal an- swered in a low voice, "and most of those poor, crippled wretches recaptured. I released them to confuse the kingsmen. ... I might have been more merciful to leave them in their cells."