Yet neither was able to manage over the other, and time stopped as Amrik growled and forced his magic ahead, while Abadu stood his ground and resisted just as strongly. The piercing whine increased between them, and some soldiers, overcome, cupped their ears against it. The brilliant cord of sorcerous energy between Amrik and Abadu now shimmered visibly above the field, looking as if a giant sword-stroke had rent the very atmosphere.
Their deadlock might have gone on forever, for Abadu’s resurrected sorcery was the match of Amrik’s unsure power gained from the distant Kossuth. But one soldier there, entranced by the spectacle, crept forward to examine the secret of that invisible strength of the sorcerers. Gingerly he poked with his sword, wondering what might result. Oron saw him and yel
