“I see one.two.three eagles wheeling in the gap by Stormness Head. One is the oldest of all the eagles. He would not be out unless battle was at hand. I see him wheel to and fro， peering down sometimes at Anvard and sometimes to the east， behind Stormness. Ah.I see now what Rabadash and his men have been so busy at all day. They have felled and lopped a great tree and they are now coming out of the woods carrying it as a ram. They have learned something from the failure of last night‘s assult. He would have been wiser if he had set his men to making ladders： but it takes too long and he is impatient. Fool that he is！ He ought to have ridden back to Tashbaan as soon as the first attack failed， for his whole plan depended on speed and surprise. Now they are bringing their ram into position. King Lune’s men are shooting hard from the walls. Five Calormenes have fallen： but not many will. They have their shields above their heads. Rabadash is giving his orders now. With him are his most trusted lords， fierce Tarkaans from the eastern provinces. I can see their faces. There is Corradin of Castle Tormunt， and Azrooh， and Chlamash， and Ilgamuth of the twisted lip， and a tall Tarkaan with a crimson beard.”
