FROM among the hundred warriors marshaled by Oro, Grandon selected five who appeared above the average in intelligence, to act as officers, each to command nineteen men.
Absolute silence was observed as they marched. The Earthman led the column, followed by Oro with twenty men with two sets of sabit-fetters. After this group came the next officer whose crew carried a mattork, a rough tripod that Grandon had made for it, and ammunition. The others brought up the rear.
It was not until they arrived at a point near the mating pens that they saw the torches which had been planted before the central building. The doomed girls were huddled in a little group near the doorway, guarded by a dozen soldier sabits.
The king sabit stood in the glare of the torchlight, but his mate was not in sight. The female slaves and their children sat on the ground facing the entrance. Behind them stood the men, while soldier sabits formed a great circle about the whole scene.
Grandon saw two worker sabits pilot a huge fanta through the doorway. This lusty infant was larger even than the soldier sabits, almost ready to spin its cocoon. It gnashed its huge mandibles continuously, and wiggled from side to side, nearly upsetting its pilots with each jerk.
“We must work fast,” said Grandon, “if we would be in time. The plan is as follows. Oro will take twenty men and the larger set of fetters and circle, coming up behind the buildings. When he hears the report of the mattork, he is to cut a door in the rear of the building, go immediately to the chamber of the queen sabit and make her prisoner.
“You two will take your details and go with Oro’s men to the rear of the building. Upon the second report of the mattork, one detail will charge around the right side of the building and fetter the king sabit while the other charges around the left side and rescues the girls, placing a guard around them.
“The fourth detail will go to a place behind that large surface root to the north of the sabits, while the last one will hide behind the mating pens on the south. At the third report of the mattork they will rush in and surround the slaves assembled before the building.”
“But you thus will be left alone,” remonstrated Oro. “The sabits will overpower and kill you, for you cannot resist an army single-handed.”
“Have no fear for me,” replied Grandon. “Only do as you are bidden. Go now, swiftly and silently as possible. There is no time to lose.”
In a moment Grandon was left entirely alone. He quickly mounted the mattork, meanwhile watching the ceremonies of the sabits from time to time. The king sabit had come out in front of the hungry fanta and was haranguing the slaves in the tone-language, no doubt warning them that if any of their number should ever attempt to escape, a fate similar to that which was to be meted out to the girls awaited them.
After droning out his warnings for a full ten minutes the king sabit stepped to one side, whereupon four worker sabits seized a girl, two on a side, and carried her before the fanta.
Grandon quickly withdrew the clip of explosive bullets he had in the mattork and inserted one of solid missiles instead. The girl was being pushed feet foremost toward those great gaping jaws, and although he knew Oro would not be ready, he took careful aim at the hideous head.
Just as he was ready to press the button the form of a man appeared on a direct line between mattork and target. Grandon lifted his tripod, intending to try a shot from another position, when he saw the man who had momentarily saved the fanta’s life hurl a huge rock fragment straight for its ugly head. The missile struck the mark squarely, and the great soft-bodied monster, after a convulsive shudder, sank over on its side, stone dead.
Once more Grandon put his clip of explosive bullets in the mattork. He saw the man turn and dodge among the snapping sabits; he succeeded in breaking through the line and in keeping a short distance ahead of his pursuers.
Training his weapon on those sabits immediately behind the fugitive, the Earthman opened fire. The exploding missile tore a great gap in the ranks of the monsters, killing a half dozen and disabling as many more, whereupon the others paused, running this way and that in their endeavor to locate the unseen attacker.
Suddenly Grandon leaped up on the surface root behind him and, turning his pocket flashlight on himself, shouted defiance to the sabits in the tone-language. The king sabit saw him almost immediately, and vibrated his antennae excitedly, whereupon all but a dozen soldier sabits who remained to guard the slaves charged down on Grandon. As he leaped back to the ground and made his mattork ready, the man who had broken through the sabit guards arrived, panting heavily.
“Give me a weapon,” cried the strange, “and I will fight with you.”
Grandon handed him the spiked club. “Hit them between the eyes,” he said. “It is the only vulnerable spot. If you are as skillful with a club as you are at hurling stones, I am sure you will account for a few of them.”
The newcomer smiled slightly. He was evidently not a marsh-man, for his features were clean-cut, his hair was a light golden yellow. He walked with the carriage of a soldier.
“It was a lucky hit,” he replied. “Throwing stones is not my specialty. I could do much better with that weapon.”
Grandon fired the signal for the second attack.
“Where did you learn to use the mattork?” Grandon asked his ally.
“I was captain in the armies of Mernerum for several years, and was credited with being a fairly good marksman.”
“Here, then, take the weapon. Let me see what you can do with it. The next shot will be the final signal for my men. See if you can stop the charge of these soldier sabits.”
The newcomer grasped the weapon with the assurance of a master musician taking up his instrument. The first shot was a direct hit in the foremost ranks of the sabits, and thereafter he fired with unerring accuracy. It was but one weapon against an army, however, and both men knew that in a few seconds they would be overwhelmed.
Grandon saw one crew of armored men struggling to fetter the king sabit, while another group struck down the guards surrounding the girls. Before the last two details had come to blows with the other guards, the mattork-tripod was knocked over by the charging monsters, and both men were fighting with their backs against the thick surface root, Grandon swinging his heavy axe while his new-found ally used the spiked club almost as skillfully as he had used the mattork.
Closer and closer pressed the sabits, snapping their mighty forceps which were easily capable of cutting the unarmored man in two at one nip. The newcomer knew this, yet he laughed as he fought, and at times taunted the furious attackers in the tone-language.
“You jest with death, yet fight with the fury of a cornered lion,” said Grandon. “What is your name?”
“I am called Joto, which in the language of Mernerum means The Merry One: Take that!” crushing the skull of a huge sabit, “thou self-styled master of men! Names matter but little now, for we have not long to live; yet I would not die without knowing the name of the mighty fighter to whom I owe the few moments of life I have remaining.”
“I am Grandon of Terra,” answered the Earthman, cleaving the head of an antagonist and leaping back to avoid the snap of another. He tried to wrench the axe free, but it stuck, and the next moment powerful forceps encircled him.
With a final tug at the handle of his weapon, he was jerked from the side of his companion and mauled about by a dozen sabits who alternately shook him, crunched him with their mandibles, and tried to pull him to pieces. The armor held, but the man inside it was swiftly lapsing into unconsciousness.
A powerful sabit, more cunning than its comrades, seized Grandon by the ankles and beat him against the hard surface root. At the second terrific shock the thread of consciousness snapped asunder.