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Page 18
7. The Gray Men
The adventurers gave no heed to the path they followed after leaving
the cave of the reformed thieves, but their horses accidentally took
the direction of the foot-hills that led into the wild interior
Kingdom of Spor. Therefore the travelers, when they had finished
their conversation and begun to look about them, found themselves in a
rugged, mountainous country that was wholly unlike the green plains of
Heg they had left behind.
Now, as I have before said, the most curious and fearful of the island
people dwelt in this Kingdom of Spor. They held no friendly
communication with their neighbors, and only left their own mountains
to plunder and rob; and so sullen and fierce were they on these
occasions that every one took good care to keep out of their way until
they had gone back home again.
There was much gossip about the unknown king of Spor, who had never
yet been seen by any one except his subjects; and some thought he must
be one of the huge giants of Spor; and others claimed he was a dwarf,
like his tiny but ferocious dart-slingers; and still others imagined
him one of the barbarian tribe, or a fellow to the terrible Gray Men.
But, of course, no one knew positively, and all these guesses were
very wide of the mark. The only certainty about this king was that
his giants, dwarfs, barbarians and Gray Men meekly acknowledged his
rule and obeyed his slightest wish; for though they might be terrible
to others, their king was still more terrible to them.
Into this Kingdom of Spor Prince Marvel and Nerle had now penetrated
and, neither knowing nor caring where they were, continued along the
faintly defined paths the horses had found. Presently, however, they
were startled by a peal of shrill, elfish laughter, and raising their
eyes they beheld a horrid-looking old man seated upon a high rock near by.
"Why do you laugh?" asked Prince Marvel, stopping his horse.
"Have you been invited? Tell me--have you been invited?" demanded the
old man, chuckling to himself as if much amused.
"Invited where?" inquired the prince.
"To Spor, stupid! To the Kingdom of Spor! To the land of King
Terribus!" shrieked the old man, going into violent peals of laughter.
"We go and come as we please," answered Prince Marvel, calmly.
"Go--yes! Go if you will. But you'll never come back--never! never!
never!" The little old man seemed to consider this such a good joke
that he bent nearly double with laughing, and so lost his balance and
toppled off the rock, disappearing from their view; but they could hear
him laugh long after they had passed on and left him far behind them.
"A strange creature!" exclaimed the prince thoughtfully.
"But perhaps he speaks truth," answered Nerle, "if, in fact, we have
been rash enough to enter the Kingdom of Spor. Even my father, the
bravest baron in Heg, has never dared venture within the borders of
Spor. For all men fear its mysterious king."
"In that case," replied Prince Marvel, "it is time some one
investigated this strange kingdom. People have left King Terribus and
his wild subjects too much to themselves; instead of stirring them up
and making them behave themselves."
Nerle smiled at this speech.
"They are the fiercest people on the Enchanted Island," said he, "and
there are thousands upon thousands who obey this unknown king. But if
you think we dare defy them I am willing to go on. Perhaps our
boldness will lead them into torturing me, or starving me to death;
and at the very least I ought to find much trouble and privation in
the Kingdom of Spor."
"Time will determine that," said the prince, cheerfully.
They had now ridden into a narrow defile of the mountains, the pathway
being lined with great fragments of rock. Happening to look over his
shoulder Prince Marvel saw that as they passed these rocks a man
stepped from behind each fragment and followed after them, their
numbers thus constantly increasing until hundreds were silently
treading in the wake of the travelers.
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