The royal regiment, it is true, was but small,
but they were picked men, and mad with despair and rage. Moreover, Tua
the Queen played no woman's part that night, for when these charged,
striving to cut a path through the opposing hosts, she charged with
them, and by the moonlight was seen standing like an angry goddess in
her chariot, and loosing arrows from her bow. Also no hurt came to her
or those with her, or even to the horses that drew her. It was as though
she were protected by some unseen strength, that caught the sword cuts
and turned aside the points of spears.
Yet it availed not, for the men of Abi were a multitude, and the royal
guard but very few. Slowly, an ever-lessening band, they were pressed
back, first to the walls of the old temple of Sekhet, and then within
its outer court. Now all who were left of them, not fifty men under the
command of Mermes, strove to hold the gate. Desperately they fought, and
one by one went down to death beneath the rain of spears.
Tua had dismounted from her chariot, and leaning on her bow, for all her
arrows were spent, watched the fray with Asti at her side.
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