DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Fantasy Fan, v. 1, issue 7, March 1934

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Fantasy Fan, v. 1, issue 7, March 1934

Page 101

March, 1934	THE FANTASY FAN			101

shook his soul, but desire for the taunting figure before him hammered at his temples and drove his wild blood riotiously through his veins.  Passion fierce as physical agony flooded his whole being so that earth and sky swam red to his dizzy gaze, and weariness and faintness were swept from him in madness.
	He spoke no word as he drove at her fingers hooked like talons.  With a shriek of laughter she leaped back and ran, laughing at him over her white shoulder.  With a low growl Amra followed.  He had forgotten the fight, forgotten the mailed warriors who lay in their blood, forgotten Niord's belated reavers.  He had thought only for the slender white shape which seemed to float rather than run before him.
	Out across the white blinding plain she led him.  The trampled red field fell out of sight behind him, but still Amra kept on with the silent tenacity of his race.  His mailed feet broke through the frozen crust; he sank deep in the drifts and forged through them by sheer strength.  But the girl danced across the snow as light as a feather floating across a pool; her naked feet scarcely left their imprint on the hoar-frost.  In spite of the fire in his veins, the cold bit through the warrior's mail and furs; but the girl in her gossamer veil ran as lightly and as gaily as if she danced through the palms and rose gardens of Poitain.
	Black curses drooled through the warrior's parched lips.  The great veins swelled and throbbed in his temples, ane his teeth gnashed spasmodically.
	"You can not escape me!" he roared.  "Lead me into a trap and I'll pile the heads of your kinsmen at your feet.  Hide from me and I'll tear apart the mountains to find you!  I'll follow you to hell and beyond hell!"
	Her maddening laughter floatee back to him, and foam flew from the warrior's lips.  Further and further into the wastes she led him, till he saw the wide plains give way to low hills, marching upward in broken ranges.  Far to the north he caught a glimpse of towering mountains, blue with the distance, or white with the eternal snows.  Above these mountains shone the flaring rays of the borealis.  They spread fan-wise into the sky, frosty blades of cold flaming light, changing in color, growing and brightening.
	Above him the skies glowed and crackled with strange lights and gleams.  The snow shone weirdly, now frosty blue, now icy crimson, now cold silver.  Through a shimmering icy realm of enchantment Amra plunged doggedly onward, in a crystaline maze where the only reality was the white body dancing across the glittering snow beyond his reach - ever beyond his reach.
	Yet he did not wonder at the necromantic strangeness of it all, not even when two gigantic figures rose up to bar his way   The scales of their mail were white with hoar-frost; their helmets and their axes were sneathed in ice.  Snow sprinkled their locks; in their beards were spikes of icicles; their eyes were cold as the lights that streamed above them.
	"Brothers!" cried the girl, dancing between them.  "Look who follows!  I have brought you a man for the feasting!  Take his heart that we may lay it smoking on our father's board!"
	The giants answered with roars like

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March, 1934 THE FANTASY FAN 101 shook his soul, but desire for the taunting figure before him hammered at his temples and drove his wild blood riotiously through his veins. Passion fierce as physical agony flooded his whole being so that earth and sky swam red to his dizzy gaze, and weariness and faintness were swept from him in madness. He spoke no word as he drove at her fingers hooked like talons. With a shriek of laughter she leaped back and ran, laughing at him over her white shoulder. With a low growl Amra followed. He had forgotten the fight, forgotten the mailed warriors who lay in their blood, forgotten Niord's belated reavers. He had thought only for the slender white shape which seemed to float rather than run before him. Out across the white blinding plain she led him. The trampled red field fell out of sight behind him, but still Amra kept on with the silent tenacity of his race. His mailed feet broke through the frozen crust; he sank deep in the drifts and forged through them by sheer strength. But the girl danced across the snow as light as a feather floating across a pool; her naked feet scarcely left their imprint on the hoar-frost. In spite of the fire in his veins, the cold bit through the warrior's mail and furs; but the girl in her gossamer veil ran as lightly and as gaily as if she danced through the palms and rose gardens of Poitain. Black curses drooled through the warrior's parched lips. The great veins swelled and throbbed in his temples, ane his teeth gnashed spasmodically. "You can not escape me!" he roared. "Lead me into a trap and I'll pile the heads of your kinsmen at your feet. Hide from me and I'll tear apart the mountains to find you! I'll follow you to hell and beyond hell!" Her maddening laughter floatee back to him, and foam flew from the warrior's lips. Further and further into the wastes she led him, till he saw the wide plains give way to low hills, marching upward in broken ranges. Far to the north he caught a glimpse of towering mountains, blue with the distance, or white with the eternal snows. Above these mountains shone the flaring rays of the borealis. They spread fan-wise into the sky, frosty blades of cold flaming light, changing in color, growing and brightening. Above him the skies glowed and crackled with strange lights and gleams. The snow shone weirdly, now frosty blue, now icy crimson, now cold silver. Through a shimmering icy realm of enchantment Amra plunged doggedly onward, in a crystaline maze where the only reality was the white body dancing across the glittering snow beyond his reach - ever beyond his reach. Yet he did not wonder at the necromantic strangeness of it all, not even when two gigantic figures rose up to bar his way The scales of their mail were white with hoar-frost; their helmets and their axes were sneathed in ice. Snow sprinkled their locks; in their beards were spikes of icicles; their eyes were cold as the lights that streamed above them. "Brothers!" cried the girl, dancing between them. "Look who follows! I have brought you a man for the feasting! Take his heart that we may lay it smoking on our father's board!" The giants answered with roars like