MAN
OF THREE WORLDS
"Good-bye, men, and good luck to you." These were to be the last words that Borgen
Takkor heard on Earth. For in what seemed only seconds, he was to make an
incredible journey to another planet, and to awake in the physical body of
another man.
Borgen Takkor of Mars, alias Harry Thome of
Earth, was now Prince Zinlo of Olba, on the planet Venus. And the most perilous
part of his journey was yet to come. For he would have to escape the
machinations of Taliboz, would-be usurper of the crown of Olba, the mad frenzy
of the primitive cave-apes, and the treachery of jealous Prince Gadrimel, in
order to save his own life and that of his beloved princess.
OTIS ADELBERT KLINE: An
Appreciation
The
creator of Tarzan and John Carter of Mars, Edgar Rice Burroughs, was, without a
doubt, the most famous author of fantasy-adventure. Though his imitators were
legion, only one man was able to compete successfully with Burroughs. He was
Otis Adelbert Kline.
Though they wrote for the same publishers and
were filmed by the same movie studios, Kline never meant to compete with
Burroughs. He admired the author and it was his enthusiasm for that type of
story that inspired him to create his own universe of planets of peril,
peopled by swashbuckling planeteers and stimulating sirens.
You
have in hand a Kline novel. This is not the science-fiction of computers and
analogs. There will be no roar of rockets. This is for the reader who wants a
free-fall flight in fantastic adventure with star-flung heroes fighting
furiously for honor on worlds without it, and beautiful maidens who know there is a fate worse than death! This is for the reader who likes his thrills
unique, and his fiction spellbinding from first page to last.
Interested? Then Otis Adelbert Kline is your
meatl The only author to be compared with Edgar Rice
Burroughs, but whose work is as original as Burroughs' own!
—Veknell
Cohtell Founder, The Burroughs Bibliophiles
Ace
Books, Inc. 1120 Avenue of the Americas New York 36, N.Y.
Copyright ©, 1962, by Ellen Kline
Copyright, 1930, by Frank A. Munsey Co.
An Ace Book, by
arrangement with Thomas Bouregy & Co., Inc.
Cover art and title-page ïUustration by Roy Kreukel, Jr.
Printed in U.S.A.
FOREWORD
Many people have asked me how I came to write "The Swordsman of Mars," "The Outlaws of
Mars," and "The Planet of Peril," and have wondered why the character
of Dr. Morgan appears in all of them. "It was all right for the first
story," one reader complained, "but it begins to get a bit thick the
third time. I hope you're not going to do it again."
Another thought that Dr. Morgan really belonged in the series, but that there
wasn't enough of him; I should justify his continuance by having him play a
more important role in the plot.
As
an author, I agree with both of these critics. Dr. Morgan
either should have been dropped, or should have a more active and vital role;
and I certainly would have taken one of these alternatives in the second novel,
"Outlaws of Mars," were this series really my own to work out as I
pleased.
You
see, while the name "Dr. Morgan" is fictitious, the character is not.
It was quite by accident that I literally dropped in on him one day while
deer-hunting in the mountains. It was a cloudy day, and I lost my bearings. I'd been foolish enough to forget my compass, so I climbed the highest prominence to orient myself.
If you have ever met me, you will know that
these were not
tremendous mountains. Now that I'm letting you in on a
long-kept secret, I must confess to further deception. If you will re-read the
opening chapters of the preceding books, you will see that while I've given the
impression that Dr. Morgan's retreat was amidst high mountains, I've never said
anything definite about the height. There were high enough for my own purposes
of sport and exercise, and Dr. Morgan's purposes of isolation, but you may
have been led to overestimate their eminence.
I
had all but reached the summit I was approaching, when my feet suddenly slipped
from under me. Gun and all, I crashed through something which felt and sounded
like glass, and struck a hard, concrete floor. My right leg crumpled under me,
and all went black.
When
I regained consciousness I thought I was in a hospital, for two men in white
garments were working over me.
The
younger man I took to be an interne. The other was indeed a doctor, as I was to
learn. He was of gigantic stature, but well-proportioned and athletic, and of
most striking appearance. His forehead was far higher than any other I had
ever seen, bulging outward so that his shaggy eyebrows, which grew completely
together above the bridge of his aquiline nose, half concealed his small, glittering,
beady eyes. His close-cropped, sharply pointed beard, in which a few gray hairs
were in evidence, proclaimed him as probably past middle age.
When
he had finished bandaging my fractured leg, which throbbed unmercifully, he
dismissed his assistant, called me by name, and introduced himself. I am not
yet free to divulge his true identity, so I shall continue to call him
"Dr. Morgan."
"What hospital is
this," I asked, "and how did you find me?"
"You
are not in a hospital," he replied in his booming bass voice, "but
still on the mountain in my retreat. My men are now replacing the skylight
through which you fell."
For nearly a month I convalesced in the
secret, perfectly camouflaged
observatory. When he learned that I was an author (he had learned my name from
the mundane process of looking through my wallet) he asked permission to question
me under hypnosis, promising to explain when he had finished, and assuring me
that I need not worry about anything he would ask me.
There
are some human beings who inspire you with trust almost upon first sight. Dr.
Morgan was such a person. I agreed; and I learned later that, had he not been
trustworthy, it would have been very easy for him to have tricked me into
agreement. Actually, he would not have done it without my full consent,
honestly gained.
"I
must ask your forgiveness," he said, after the session. "While my
impression of you was that you were both honest and reliable, I had to be sure
that you did not have particular character weaknesses through which you could
be easily led to betray confidences you really meant to keep. I have some
material which would be ideal for the sort of stories you write, but it is
vital that certain aspects of what you will leam do not become public
knowledge. Without these, few readers will suspect that what you will write is
anything but very imaginative romance, and those few will not be able to
ascertain more without facts which I now am confident you won't reveal."
He
stroked his beard. "I could, of course, with your consent, doubly insure
security by putting you under hypnotic inhibition—you would not remember what
you were not supposed to reveal. But this is a risky process, not one hundred
percent certain, and might have undesirable side-effects upon you."
"I'll go along with
your judgment on this," I told him.
In
the days that followed I learned about Dr. Morgan's studies of parapsychology,
particularly in telepathy. I had done some reading in this line myself, so knew
something of the general theory—that the communication of thoughts or ideas or moods from one mind to another
without the use of any physical medium whatever, was not influenced or hampered
by either time or space.
Dr.
Morgan had worked on telepathy for many years in his spare time, when he was in
practice; but on his retirement, he tried a different track. "I had to
amend the theory," he explained. "I decided that it would be
necessary to build a device which would pick up and amplify thought waves. And
even this would have failed had my machine not caught the waves projected by
another machine, which another man had built to amplify and project them."
Now
I had been a devotee of imaginative fiction for many years, and had often
thought of turning my hand to writing it. I prided myself on having a better than
usual imagination; yet, I did not think of the implications of the theory of
telepathy when Dr. Morgan told me that the man who built the thought-projector
was on Mars. While I deferred to no one in my fondness for Edgar Rice
Burroughs's stories of John Carter and others on Barsoom, I was well aware of
the fact that what we knew of the planet Mars made his wonderful civilization
on that planet quite impossible. I said as much, going into facts and figures.
"Of
course, we won't really know for sure about the exact conditions there unless
we land on Mars. But still we know enough to make Burroughs's Mars probability
zero," I concluded.
Dr.
Morgan nodded. "Entirely correct," he said. "There is no such
civilization on Mars."
He
then explained his own incredulity when his machine picked up the thoughts of a
man who identified himself as a human being—one Lai Vak, a Martian scientist
and psychologist. But Lai Vak was ao less incredulous when Dr. Morgan
identified himself as a human being and scientist of Earth. For Lai Vak was
certain that there could be no human civilization on Earth, and cited facts and
figures to prove it.
And that was the clue. Both Dr. Morgan and
Lai Vak were correct. Neither man could possibly exist on the world he claimed
to inhabit—if both were living in the same area of space-time. But Lai Vak's description of Earth was a valid description of the third
planet from the sun as it existed millions of years ago.
"I
have read many weird and fantastic stories," Dr. Morgan said, "as
have you. Some of them have given me a most
eerie feeling—but nothing to compare with my feelings upon talking with a man
who has been dead millions of years, of whose civilization there may now linger
not so much as a single trace."
This
was the beginning. Dr. Morgan brought me several thick typewritten manuscripts
which he had bound separately, and I read therein the stories of Harry Thorne,*
of Morgan's own nephew, Jerry, ** and of Robert Grandon.*** Thus I learned that
Lai Vak was the contemporary of a Venusian named Vorn Vangal and that a human civilization had also existed on Venus at this time.
With
the aid of Lai Vak, Dr. Morgan had effected transfer of personalities between
two Martians and two Earthmen, whose physical and brain-pattern
make-up were similar enough to permit such exchange. Through a means which I am
still barred from describing in detail, it was possible for Dr. Morgan to keep
in rapport with his emissaries on Mars-providing they co-operated. The first
man broke contact, and
"See "The Swordsman of Mars"
by Otis Adelbert Kline, Ace Books, D-516.
°*See "The Outlaws of Mars" by Otis Adelbert Kline, Ace Books, D-531.
""See "The Planet of
Peril" by Otis
Adelbert Kline.
Ace Books, F-211.
turned out
to be a disasterously wrong choice. Thus, Harry Thome was sent to Mars, to
exchange consciousness with a Martian whose body was holding the personality of
Frank Boyd, criminal Earthman.
From
Vorn Vangal, Dr. Morgan learned the construction and operation of a space-time
vehicle, propelled by telekinesis. It was by means of this vehicle that
Morgan's nephew Jerry, went to Mars physically. But
something went wrong on the return trip—Dr. Morgan had tried to bring the
vehicle back to Earth and his own time, empty, for use to transport an Earthman
to Venus later—and the vehicle was lost.
"It
might have been possible to build another," Dr. Morgan told me, after I
had finished reading about the adventures of his nephew, "but Vorn Vangal
and I decided that it would be simpler to use the personality-exchange system,
if we could find an Earthman or two who could qualify." He pointed to the
other two manuscripts which I was yet to read. "These tell of what
happened to the two I sent to Venus: Robert Grandon and Borgen
Takkor."
"Borgen
Takkor—but he's on Mars," I protested. "He's the Zovil of Xancibar. . . . Did something go wrong? A break-up between
him and Neva. . . ?"
Dr.
Morgan smiled. "No, no, my friend—Harry Thome is
on Mars in the body of Borgen Takkor. The man who was my assistant for many
years, called Harry Thome, is Borgen Takkor." He coughed slightly.
"Of course, he is now known as Prince Zinlo of Venus."
I
smiled. "If we can consider millions of years in the past
as 'now'."
"I
am still in contact with him, as with the others who are 'still' alive. ... At any rate, Borgen Takkor asked me if
he could go to Venus; he was getting tired of Earth, and of course he could not
return to Mars. He was fascinated with what Vom Vangal told me of the Venusian
civilization and was sure he'd feel more at home there, however strange it might be. I'd say it would be roughly
analogous to the case of a crusader from 12th Century England transported and
settled down into a remote part of Islam, where there was not and probably
never would be direct contact with his native civilization."
So
"Harry Thome," and an Earthman named Robert Crandon went to Venus.
Here
were four distinct stories, and Dr. Morgan went over them with me, indicating
what parts of them might be used for novels, and what had best not be related
in detail, or omitted entirely.
I
have told you the story of Robert Grandon in "The Planet of Peril,"
and those of you who have read it will recall that "Harry Thome" and
Grandon met in the closing episodes of the story. You may remember that Grandon
asked Thome to tell him of his adventures between the time of Thome's arrival
on Venus, and this meeting, as it was plain that much had happened and that the
other man had found his place and the woman of his heart's desire. Before Thome
could tell the story, they were interrupted by announcements that their airship
had arrived at Vernia's capital.
Actually,
the record shows that Thome did tell his story to Grandon later, during the
visit—although like nothing in the detail present in Dr. Morgan's records. But
it was impossible to give even so brief an outline in this place. It had no
bearing on the story of Robert Grandon and his rise on Venus, his winning of
Vemia, and the defeat and death of the traitor, Prince Destho. I decided to
omit it entirely, leaving it for another novel.
So
now I offer you the story of Harry Thome—and, with your permission, I shall
stop calling him "Harry Thome." This is the story of Borgen Takkor's
adventures on Venus— Borgen Takkor, bom on Mars, transferred to Earth for a decade, and finally finding his career and place on Venus.
The Author.
CHAPTER
I
VJOod-bye, men and good luck to you."
My
awakening, after I lay down on the cot in Dr. Morgan's observatory, was quite
sudden and startling. It seemed that not more than a few seconds had elapsed
since I had heard the doctor's parting words to Grandon and myself.
I
opened my eyes and sat up abruptly with an inexplicable sense of impending
danger. My first glimpse of my surroundings convinced me that I had indeed
arrived on Venus. The magnificent riot of vegetation surrounding me—vegetation
the like of which I had not seen on Mars, the red, barren planet of my birth,
nor on Earth, the more recent planet of my adoption—was sufficient evidence.
I
was seated on a bank of soft, violet-colored moss which sloped gently to a
limpid pool at my feet. The feathery fronds of a giant bush-fern arched above my
head, some of them dipping to the surface of the water, where they were snapped
at from time to time by playful, grotesque, multi-colored iimphibians.
I
was dressed in garments of shimmering, scarlet material. There was a broad,
golden chain-belt about my waist, with a jeweled clasp in front. Riveted to
this belt on the right side
was an oblong instrument about two feet in
length, with a button near the upper end, a small lever on
the side, and a tiny hole in the lower end. I had no idea
what it was for; but I recognized the weapon which hung at my left side, as it
resembled a scimitar. As I was examining the ruby-studded hilt of this beautiful
weapon, a noise at my left attracted my attention.
Cautiously,
without turning my head, I glanced from the corners of my eyes across a stretch
of shrubbery to where a high wall of black stone surrounded this estate, and
hid the country beyond. Just on the other side of the wall a tall fern-tree spread its mighty fronds. It must have been the cracking
of one of these that had attracted my attention, for a heavy-set individual
with a coarse red beard, cut off square below the
chin, had climbed out on it to a point where it would no longer sustain his
weight, in an effort to reach the top of the wall.
Someone
in the shrubbery quite near me called a whispered
warning to him—or such I took it to be, for the language was unknown to me, and
I could only judge by the tones. The huge intruder was much more agile than he
appeared, for he flung an arm over the top of the wall and drew himself up
with catlike quickness. As he struck the wall there was a metallic clank which, I saw as soon as he came into full view, was from
an edged weapon at his side, quite like my own but with a less ornate hilt and broader blade.
As
soon as the red-bearded man reached the top of the wall, the one who had
whispered from the bushes cautiously stood up. He was smaller and more wiry than the first, and his beard, which was iron-gray
in color, was trimmed in the same manner.
Red-beard
tiptoed stealthily along the top of the wall, glancing toward me from time to
time as if fearful that I would hear him or turn toward him. Then he leaned
out, caught his fingers
in a tall cone-shaped growth, swung his sandaled feet out, and descended.
I
wondered if it could be possible that these two prowlers were bent on injury to
me, a total stranger on Venus. Then it dawned on me that they could easily be
mortal enemies of the prince with whom I had exchanged bodies, and that I— so
far as their knowledge went—was that prince.
I
therefore drew my cutting weapon from its sheath in order to have it ready, and
pretended to examine its beautiful, highly polished blade. For several minutes
I neither saw nor heard anything of the two prowlers. Then I suddenly glimpsed,
reflected on the polished surface of my blade, the red-bearded man standing
directly behind me with his weapon upraised for a downward cut that would have
sheared my skull from crown to chin. As swords of all kinds had been my
principal playthings on Mars, and fencing my favorite amusement on Earth, I
did the thing which any swordsman would have done instinctively in the
circumstances. I raised the blade of my weapon above my head with a dovtroward
slant from hilt to point, and the descending blade of my would-be assassin,
deflected by my own, buried itself in the mossy turf on my left.
Springing to my feet, I
whirled and attacked.
My
opponent proved to be a hammer-and-tongs fighter, no match for superior
swordsmanship. I could have killed him any one of a dozen times before he
realized that I was playing with him. Then he bawled out lustily, and the wiry
fellow with the gray beard came rushing out of the bushes. Not knowing the
caliber of the second assailant, I stopped the squawking of the first with a
quick neck-cut that laid him low.
The
wiry graybeard was much quicker and far more elusive than his huge companion,
and I did not play with him. He soon left me the opening I sought, and I
stretched him beside his fellow with a bone-shearing cut.
Having ascertained beyond doubt that both of
my would-be assassins were dead, I carefully cleaned my blade, sheathed it, and
set out to explore my surroundings.
I had been walking for perhaps ten minutes
along the mossy bank, when a monster, more hideous than anything I had ever
seen or even dreamed existed, emerged from the water and came toward me.
I
whipped out my blade as it waddled forward on its thick, bowed legs. Its long,
scaly tail dragged in the moss, and its enormous jaws were distended in a grin
that disclosed huge, ivory-white tusks. It was so fearsome a thing that, although I am no coward, I knew not whether to stand and
fight or take to my heels.
A
gust of laughter at my right caused me to turn. I beheld a tall man, apparently of middle age, smiling broadly at me. His garments
were of purple, and he wore a beard that had once been black, now slightly
streaked with gray, cut off square below the chin. His weapons were similar to
mine, though his belt was of silver.
"The
'ikthos' will not harm you," he said in English. "It is one of the
garden pets, and hostile only to strangers."
The
thing he called an ikthos sniffed at my garments, rubbed its ugly muzzle
against my thigh, yawned, and crouched at my feet.
"You
are surprised at my knowledge of English," continued my new acquaintance.
"After I tell you who you are and were, and also who I am, the thing will
not seem so mysterious. You are he who was Borgen Takkor on Mars, and later
Harry Thome on Earth. You have now become Zinlo, the Torrogi or Imperial Crown
Prince of Olba. I am Vom Vangal, the Olban psychologist, and have been
communicating telepathically with Dr. Morgan of Earth for several years."
"I
have heard the doctor speak of you often," I replied. "It is a
pleasure to meet you, Vom Vangal."
He acknowledged with a courtly bow. "I have but a few
hours to spend with you. Grandon has already arrived on the other side of the
planet and will shortly awaken to find himself a princely slave in the marble
quarries of Uxpo. I must fly to his assistance. Come with me and see what
preparations I have made for you."
I followed Vorn Vangal through the garden.
There was a profusion of ornamental trees, shrubs, fungi and jointed grasses,
but no flowers or fruits. Patches of gloriously colored water plants of divers
odd shapes flourished in the lagoons, and fungi of a
thousand types and sizes grew in the moister places.
Though
it was without flowers, the garden did not lack color. All the hues of the
rainbow were represented in its rankly growing, primitive vegetation.
Toadstools as tall as trees bordered several of the lagoons, some of them
lemon-yellow, others orange, scarlet, black or brown, and still others of pale,
chalky whiteness.
Beautiful
statues and statuettes stood here and there, some placed conspicuously, but
more of them showing unexpectedly in niches and vine-covered bowers as we moved
along.
The
garden teemed with bird and animal life. The trees were alive with gay-plumed
songbirds that filled the air with their melodious, flute-like notes.
Waterfowl, both swimmers and waders, dotted the lagoons, and their cries,
though not musical, were far from unpleasant. Amphibians of many species
disported themselves in the water or dozed lazily on the banks. I was
astonished at sight of a huge yellow frog which must easily have measured more
than six feet from nose to toes, blinking contentedly and fearlessly down at me
from his seat on an enormous scarlet toadstool.
With
our hideous ikthos trailing closely behind us, and from time to time
affectionately nosing either Vom Vangal or me with its cold, moist snout, we
presently came before a tall building. It was of black marble, and was my first
glimpse of Olban architecture.
Its shape astonished me. I do not believe
there was a straight line in the entire structure. Everything was curved. The
building stood on a circular foundation, and its walls, instead
of mounting skyward in a straight line, bellied outward and then
curved in again at the top. The lower structure was surmounted by a second
segment, smaller, but of similar shape. This, in turn, supported others, still
smaller, up to the top segment, some thirty feet in diameter and no less than
six hundred feet from the ground.
We
mounted a flight of steps, walked between two uniformed guards who saluted
stiffly, and entered a large circular door, where a slave took charge of the
ikthos and led him away. After following a broad hallway for some distance we
came to a huge pillar. It was in the center of the building, and was decorated
on one side with a large oval plate of burnished silver on which was embossed
what appeared to be a coat-of-arms. As we stepped before it the plate slid
back, revealing a small room within.
At
Vangal's invitation I stepped into the small room inside the huge central
pillar of the tower, and he followed. As soon as he stood beside me the silver
plate slid back across the entrance, a concealed light flashed on somewhere
above our heads, and the floor moved upward.
We
were in an elevator, of course, but what had started the thing and how was my
companion going to stop it when we reached our destination? There were no
levers or buttons of any sort. The thing seemed almost human in its movements.
Perhaps there was a hidden operator. I voiced my question to Vorn Vangal.
"It
is moved by a mechanism which amplifies the power of telekinesis," he
said.
I
had often heard Dr. Morgan use the word "telekinesis," and knew that
it described that mysterious power of the mind which enables psychics to tip
tables and lift imponderable objects without physical means. In short, it
referred to the direct power of mind over matter.
"I
have heard of small objects being moved or lifted by telekinesis," I
marveled, "but to lift an elevator! Why, this is amazing!"
"We
lift far heavier things than this little car," said Vangal, smiling
slightly. "Huge cranes and derricks are operated in the same way. Airships
of all sizes from small one-man flyers to huge battleships are moved by
it—propelled through the air at speeds ranging from two hundred to one thousand
miles an hour."
"But how is that
possible?"
"It
was made possible by that wonderful invention, the mechanism that amplifies the
mind's power. The manufacture of this mechanism is the exclusive secret of the
Olban government, and constitutes our defense against aggression from the
warlike torro-gats—or empires—surrounding us. If those
governments knew the secret, they would build aircraft and use them for
conquest. The Olbans, however, are committed to a policy of 'live and let
live.' We use our wonderful power only for commercial purposes and as a defense
against aggression."
We
stopped before a metal plate which slid back noiselessly. I stepped out of the
car and Vorn Vangal came after me, whereupon the plate slid back in place.
We
were in a small, circular hallway around whose walls were metal doors at
intervals of about twenty feet. Vangal led the way to one of these doors,
pressed a button, and when it slid open, bowed me into a luxuriously furnished
suite lighted by enormous circular windows that reached nearly from floor to
ceiling.
"This
is to be your retreat until my return from Uxpo," he said. "I have
been preparing for your coming these many months."
He walked to a beautifully carved table of
red wood, and took a thick scroll from a pile neatly stacked on its polished top.
"These are your lessons in patoa, the universal language of Venus. Our patoan name for Venus is Zarovia. Some twenty thousand patoan words are listed here with their pronunciations and English
translations. If you will study them carefully until my return it will perhaps
be safe for you to leave the Black Tower. Then I can take you to the Red Tower,
the Imperial Palace of Olba."
"Am
I to infer that it would be unsafe for me to leave the tower at present?"
"The
tower and grounds are well guarded," Vom Vangal replied; "but do not
under any circumstances wander beyond the walls. In the course of your walks in
the garden, always keep the ikthos with you. He will warn you of lurking
assassins, and will fight in your defense."
"He certainly wasn't
on the job a short time ago," I said.
"What do you
mean?"
I told him of the two
assassins.
"The
beast must have been lured away by his keeperl" cried Vangal, when I had
finished. "The traitor will be dealt with in due time. And those two
ruffians—they would be in tho pay of Taliboz, of course."
"Who is Taliboz?"
"A man whom I suspect, but against whom I can prove nothing. Nothing! You see—in the course of
preparation for your coining, I cast about for an excuse to bring your predecessor
hero In ordor
Mint His Imperial Majesty,
Emperor Hadjez, might not loam that
his son Zinlo was changing places with an Earthrnan. A ready-made excuse
presented itself when word came through the intelligence department of the
government that there was a plot on foot to assassinate the male members of the
imperial family.
"I
immediately suggested that Prince Zinlo be brought here until the plotters
could be taken and executed. His majesty readily consented, thus making it
possible for me to obtain a quiet retreat for you in which you could learn
something of the language and customs of Olba, and at the same time be guarded
from danger.
"The
plotters have not been apprehended, but I am firmly of the opinion that Taliboz
is the ringleader. They have already made an attempt on the life of the
Emperor and escaped with the loss of a single man. You can see how you would be
exposed by going out unguarded."
"I'm
willing to stay here for a while," I replied, "for there is no
question about my having to leam this language, patoa, sooner or later. But once I leam your language you won't catch me
staying behind walls on account of a few assassins. I was bom on Mars, where
men do not stay indoors to avoid their enemies; and though I am not familiar
with your weapons, I believe I can give some account of myself with this
cutting implement at my side if attacked."
"No
doubt you can," replied Vangal, "although the two ruffians you killed
were probably clumsy fighters. But please bear in mind that you are the Torrogi
of Olba—the crown prince—and that your life is not yours to throw away
heedlessly."
"Don't ever think I'm going to throw it
away," I said. "The man who gets it will have to put up a
scrap." "You might be shot from ambush with a tork." "A torkr
"You are wearing one
attached to your belt."
Vangal
explained the use of the oblong instrument at my side. It was about two feet
long and shaped like a carpenter's level. A rivet passed completely through it, about eight inches from the top,
fastening it to the belt in such a way that it could be tilted at any angle or
pointed in any direction by moving the body.
He
pressed a small lever on the side and removed two clips, explaining that one
was a gas clip containing a thousand rounds of condensed explosive gas, while
the other was a bullet clip which held a thousand rounds of needle-like glass
projectiles. These projectiles, he said, were filled with a poison that would paralyze man or beast almost instantly, though the
paralysis was only temporary. Other projectiles, he explained, were filled with
deadly poison, and still others with explosives. The effective range, he
stated, was equal to about ten Earth-miles.
He led me to a window which
was open.
"I
have prepared a target for you," he said. "You will need to practice
with the tork if you are to be able to defend yourself on this planet. Do you
see that large white plate against the wall at the other end of the
garden?"
"Yes."
"I
had it erected for your use. It is coated with a substance that will combine
with the poison in your tork bullets, emitting a green gas. If you see a green
spot appear momentarily on the target you will know that you have registered
a hit."
I
was eager to try this new weapon, and Vangal, smiling at my eagerness, loaded
it for me and showed me how to hold it when pressing the button which fired the
gas in the chamber by means of an electric spark. It fed new bullets
automatically, he explained.
I confidently fired at the target and waited
for a green spot to appear. It remained white. Again I fired with the same
result.
"You
will need considerable practice," said Vangal. "I am not accounted
much of a marksman, but watch."
He
fired his tork and a green spot appeared in the center of the target. Then,
with no apparent effort, he planted a ring
of green spots around it.
When
the spots had disappeared I tried again, and managed to hit the target once
out of five shots.
"Now let me see what you can do with the
scarbo," Vangal said. "The what?"
"That
cutting instrument at your side."
"Oh ho, friend Vangal!" I thought. "You won't find me utterly
helpless with this weapon."
He
drew his scarbo and I mine. Thinking to best me as easily as he had with the
tork, he made as if he would lay my head open.
I
parried the blow with ease, then whirled his blade on
mine with a movement so sudden that, strong as he was, it flew from his grasp
and flashing over his head, clanked in the comer behind him.
"Body of Thorth!" * he exclaimed. "That is a marvelous
trick!"
. I recovered his weapon and handed it to him
laughingly.
"On Mars I was raised
on a diet of swords," I replied.
"Then I suggest that you confine your
efforts to target practice and a mastery of patoa," said Vanga. "I must leave you now to go to the assistance of
Grandon. My flyer is on the roof. Would you care to see me off?"
"Assuredly."
I followed him into the
elevator.
CHAPTER
II
The elevatoh stopped at the floor of the top segment, and
we mounted thence to the roof by a spiral stairway. Two guards, armed with
torks, scarbos and broad-bladed spears, saluted when we appeared. The roof was
made of the same
"A great prophet and religious leader of
Zarovian antiquity.
material as
the walls, and the slabs of black marble were fitted together so cunningly that
the joints were all but concealed. It was circled by a four foot waD
perforated on the floor level at intervals to carry off the heavy Zarovian
rains.
There
were four Olban airships on the roof. I examined the nearest one with interest.
It was shaped like a small metal duck-boat about ten feet in length and three
in the beam. The cockpit was covered with a glass dome in the back of which was
a small door. Within this dome I could see an assortment of levers, buttons and
knobs, and the cushioned seat for the driver. The thing that amazed me the most
was the fact that it was not equipped with planes, rudder or propeller.
Vangal turned to me. "You seem
astonished at our airships." "They certainly do not resemble any
aircraft I have previously seen."
"We
have no need of planes, propellers or rudders for this type of flyer," he
went on. "As I told you, it is raised, lowered, turned, or moved in any
desired direction by amplified mind-power. The amplifying mechanism is under
the round bump on the forward deck. The small lids that you see fore and aft
conceal safety parachutes. That rectangular protuberance from the front of the
cab is a mattork, a weapon operated on the same principle as a tork, but with a
greater range and firing much heavier projectiles."
"You told me that the Olban government
alone possessed the secret for manufacturing these flying mechanisms," I
said. "Suppose one should be forced to land in hostile territory. The
craft would then, in all probability, fall into the hands of your enemies, and
they could thus easily take the mechanism apart and duplicate it "
"That
danger has been foreseen. A vial of powerful acid has been placed in the
mechanism of each Olban craft in such a way that it will be immediately broken
if tampered with.
The
acid thus released in the secret mechanism will instantly destroy it."
"Certainly a
far-sighted provision," I remarked.
"It
has kept us at peace with our neighbors for many centuries," replied
Vangal. "I dislike leaving you thus precipitately, but the time has come
for departure."
So
saying, he opened the door in the back of the cab and entered. After a hurried
examination of the control levers and the cannon-like mattork, he said:
"Farewell. Study diligently, practice assiduously, and be ever on your
guard against assassins."
"If I catch any prowling about 111 practice on them instead Of the target. Farewell, and a
safe and pleasant journey to you.
The
little craft rose slowly at first, then, gradually gathering momentum, it shot
to a height of a half mile or more, sped away with amazing rapidity, and was
soon lost to view.
I
walked to the edge of the wall and looked oyer. The roof was at least six
hundred feet from the ground, though the drop from battlement to battlement was
only about sixty feet. Far to the northward I descried a city of circular
buildings, in the center of which towered an immense red structure similar in
design to the one on which I stood, but at least twice as tall.
This
must be the Red Tower of which Vorn Vangal had spoken—the Imperial Palace of
Olba. The city walls formed a circle, broken at each point of the compass by a
tower which evidently covered a gate.
The
countryside, as far as I Could see, was divided into
well-kept farms on each of which was a round building, probably the home of the
owner. People were working in the fields, and here and there I saw men driving
huge, grotesque beasts hitched to plows or cultivators.
The
animals, which I afterward learned were called thir-peds, were great hairless
pachyderms; they stood about eight feet at the shoulder, and weighed four to
five tons apiece when full grown. They had huge heads and mouths, sharp-pointed
long ears, and relatively thin necks almost half as long as their bodies. They
moved with a lumbering gait that reminded me of elephants.
The plants under cultivation were fungi of
various kinds, and several varieties of bush-fems.
A
smoothly paved road, straight as an arrow, led from the south gate of Olba past
the tower on which I stood, and thence to the great, crescent-shaped Olban
harbor of Tureno. This was the marine gateway of the capital, whence Emperor
Hadjez sent his mighty fleet of trading vessels out over the rolling,
steel-blue waters of the mighty Ropok Ocean.
Along
this straight, smooth road rumbled great, one-wheeled carts drawn by thirpeds.
The body of a Zarovian cart is inside the huge single wheel that carries it,
being suspended on an inner idling wheel that keeps it from turning when the
outer wheel revolves. There were also one-wheeled motor-driven vehicles that
moved over the road with great speed. I saw some with wheels more than twenty
feet in diameter, making all of a hundred Earth miles an hour.
One
of the guards accompanied me down the telekinetic elevator, which I had not
learned to operate, conducted me to the suite Vangal had prepared for me, and
bowing low, with right hand extended palm downward, left me alone. I could hear
him pacing back and forth in the hall while I studied the patoa scrolls.
As I
pored over the translations and pronunciations with keen interest, it seemed to
me that I was reading something I had known well, but had forgotten. I tested
myself on this and found, to my surprise, that having once read and pronounced
a patoan word, I had learned it.
When
I told Vorn Vangal about it afterward, he explained that this was because the
brain of Zinlo, which had become mine, knew all of these things already. The
subjective mind, having once received an impression, records it forever. Thus,
having only to tap my subjective mind, I learned instantly. It amazed and
overjoyed me.
Long
before the afternoon had waned, I had mastered the entire group of lessons
which Vorn Vangal had prepared for me. I was eagerly reading a Zarovian book on
natural history, when the advent of sudden darkness, so common in tropical and
semi-tropical Venus, interrupted my studies. A rap sounded at the door.
"Enter,"
I said in patoa, eager to try my newly mastered language.
The
door slid open, framing the figure of my guard in silhouette against the
lighted hall. He entered and pressed a button, flooding the room with soft
fight. I could not see the points from which the radiance emanated, so cleverly
were the fixtures concealed.
"Your Highness's
dinner," announced the guard.
Two
slaves entered, bearing a huge double-decked tray laden with at least fifty different
dishes. A third followed with a small table, and a fourth with gold service and
scarlet napery.
Fish, flesh, and fowl were set before me, as
well as numerous dishes concocted from mushrooms and other fungi, and
countless others whose origin I could not fathom. There was also a colorless,
pleasant-tasting beverage which I afterward learned was called
"kova," served hot in small bowls. I found it fully as stimulating as
strong wine, though with a slightly different effect.
Having
dined as became a prince of Olba, I turned once more to my studies.
Late
in the evening a second knock sounded at my door, and a new guard admitted a
man who was evidently my valet. He busied himself in the adjoining room for a
few minutes, then entered and, bowing before me, announced that my bedchamber
was ready.
I entered, to behold a sleeping shelf that
curved out from the wall like the nest of a cave-swallow. A scarlet canopy
fringed with gold projected above it, and the downy, silken coverlets—scarlet
lined with golden yellow—had been turned back invitingly.
My valet brought my scarlet sleeping
garments, and I wondered at the preponderance of this color; later, I learned
that throughout Zarovia scarlet is the exclusive color of royalty.
Though
I had grown drowsy over my studies, the novelty of my situation kept me awake.
After several hours, I managed to drift off, only to be awakened by a sharp,
metallic clang.
The
sound seemed to come from the direction of the battlement outside my window,
and I listened breathlessly for a repetition. As it was not repeated, I decided
that it could have no alarming significance, and was once more composing
myself for slumber when I heard a slight rustle as of silken garments only a
few feet distant from my head.
Without
moving, I opened my eyes and endeavored to penetrate the pitch darkness that
enveloped me. Venus has no moon, and in consequence it was fully as dark
outside as anywhere in the room; I could not see the window, nor could I have
seen any one entering it.
It
was plainly evident that there was someone in the room. I thought of Vorn
Vangal's warning, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. My weapons lay on
a low table only a few feet from me, yet I could not move to reach them without
making sufficient noise to apprise my stealthy visitor of my whereabouts.
Another
rustle, quite near me this time, was followed by the glow of a flashlight which
swept the room, rested for a moment on my recumbent form, and then winked out.
I sat up suddenly, at the sound of a scarbo drawn stealthily from its sheath
not two feet from me.
No sooner had I sat up in bed than there was
a whistling sound, followed by a thud, as the keen blade of a scarbo buried
itself in the pillow where my head had lain a moment before.
I
leaped from the sleeping shelf and fumbled for the light switch while my
assailant, with a muttered exclamation of surprise and anger,
flashed his torch on the coverlets. Then he whirled it around the room just as
I found the switch and turned it.
Both
of us were blinded for an instant by the glare of the light. I reached the
table and secured my scarbo just in time to ward off his furious attack.
Back
and forth we fought across the smooth floor, overturning furniture and
tripping on rugs, while the apartment echoed and re-echoed with the clamor of
our rapidly moving blades.
I
found my assailant a dangerous antagonist; as a swordsman, Vom Vangal was but
a child compared with. him. He was dressed in purple
raiment trimmed with silver, and wore a heavy black beard.
At
first his demeanor was one of sneering disdain; but when he found me able not
only to parry his Ughtning cuts and thrusts, but to return them, measure for
measure, a look of wonderment came to his hawk-like features. "Body of
Thorth, stripling!" he exclaimed. "You have been practicing with the
scarbo since I last saw you."
"I
am but practicing now," I replied tauntingly, speaking slowly so that I
might not mispronounce the words which came to me so readily.
His
face reddened at this, and he redoubled his efforts, his keen blade flashing in
shimmering arcs, alike bewildering and deadly. But his anger gave me the
opportunity I sought. Whirling his blade on mine, as I had whirled that of
Vangal some time before, I wrenched it from his hand and sent it clattering to
the floor.
With a startled look he leaped back just in
time to avoid a lunge that would have ended our conflict. As he sprang he
shouted lustily, "Vinzethl Maribol Attend mel"
Two
burly ruffians responded to his call, leaping through the window. They were
armed with huge, broad-bladed spears and would probably have made quick work of
me had not my own retainers burst through the door at my back, having heard the
noise of our conflict.
For
the moment the tide of battle turned in our favor. Then fresh re-enforcements
poured in from outside. The leader had recovered his scarbo, and now they cut
my men down until but a handful remained. Though our attackers were not without
casualties, we were outnumbered from the start.
Maddened with the lust of battle, I was
cutting my way through the spearmen in my endeavor to reach their leader when
my tower guards made a sudden charge in response to a sharp order from their
commander. At the same instant he plucked at my sleeve.
"The
tower is lost, highness," he cried. "The traitors are too many for
us. You must flee."
"Neverl Let me at
these assassinsl"
I
succeeded in breaking from his grasp, but he seized my arm once more, calling
one of the guards to assist him. "Do not compel me to use force,
Highness," he pleaded. "I must get you hence at once. To do otherwise
would be treason to Your Imperial Sire."
The
two of them dragged me through the doorway which they bolted. A moment later we
entered the elevator and shot to the top floor, whence we climbed the spiral
stairway to the roof. Far below us I heard the door crash inward-proof that the
last guardsman had fallen.
They
hustled me to the largest of the three airships, opened the door of the cab,
and fairly hurled me onto the cushions.
"Raboth
will take you to the palace," said the commandant. "I will bolt the door and follow in a one-man
craft."
Raboth,
a lean wiry youth with a thin, ragged beard, climbed in beside me and closed
the door. As soon as he was seated, the ship began to rise—slowly at first, but
rapidly gaining momentum until we shot upward with amazing rapidity.
My
pilot, looking downward to take his bearings, drew back with a sudden intake of
breath. "They have seen usl Two of their battle
planes are rising to cut us off from the palace."
Scarcely
had he spoken ere a searchlight flashed on our ship. An instant later a bullet
ricocheted from our deck, tearing way part of the railing as it exploded. It
had been fired from a mattork.
A
terrific fusillade followed as we continued our rapid ascent. Suddenly we
plunged into a thick cloudbank, shielding us from the revealing glare of the
enemy searchlight. Continuing upward for several minutes more we clared this
lower cloud stratum and Raboth immediately put on our forward lights. Then he
turned a switch, illuminating the interior of the cab with the radiance of a
tiny bulb above our heads.
My
pilot leaned forward to examine a small instrument suspended on a thin wire at
the front of the cab. "I fear we are lost, Highness," he said, with a
look of consternation. "One of the shells must have carried our magnet
away. The compass is out of order."
A quick examination proved his statement
correct. The magnet, which is fastened to the rear deck of all Olban airships
to counteract the strong magnetic pull of the motive mechanism, had been
snapped off by one of the mattork bullets. Now the needle pointed to the front
of our craft no matter which way we turned.
A
sudden glare of light at our backs, followed by the rending impact of a mattork
shell on our hull, warned us that the enemy had sighted us. This time we dived into the stratum
beneath us and then with level keel, hurtled forward at a pace that held me
breathless with wonder.
"How fast are we traveling, Raboth?" I asked, trying to adjust my senses to the
sight of cloud masses made iridescent by our lights, and moving past the cab in
swift, bewildering kaleidoscopic display.
"This ship is rated at three-quarters of
a rotation," he replied. "We are moving at top speed."
"What do you mean by three-quarters of a
rotation?" He seemed astonished at my question. "Why, a rotation is
the speed at which Zarovia rotates on her axis. We are traveling three-fourths
of that speed."
I
made a rapid calculation. As the circumference of Venus is slightly less than
that of Earth, and her day twenty-three hours and twenty-one minutes, Earth
time, she rotates on her axis at a speed of more than a thousand miles an hour.
Roughly, then, we were traveling at seven hundred and fifty miles an hour.
My companion held the ship to her course
through the clouds for a considerable period, then
dipped beneath them. This move almost resulted in our undoing; the second enemy
craft, which had evidently been flying below us all the time, opened fire. I
replied with our stern mattork—whether effectively or not, I could not
tell—while Raboth again shot our craft up to the concealment afforded by the
clouds. Once more we hurtled forward on a level keel.
"Our
would-be assassins are certainly persistent," I remarked casually to my
companion.
"And
well they may be. This is the first time their leader has been recognized. No
doubt we are the only two survivors of the fight in the tower, and consequently
the only ones able to expose Taliboz."
"Who is this Taliboz?" I asked
thoughtlessly.
"Is it possible that Your Highness does
not remember Taliboz?
He is the most powerful noble in Olba. For some time it has been hinted that he
was-conspiring against the throne, but there was no direct evidence. Now he
must kill us ail-both to do away with the heir to the throne, and to silence
the witnesses of his perfidy."
We
sped along for some time in silence. I calculated that if we had traveled in a
reasonably straight line we were at least a thousand miles from our starting
point. At length, feeling that we must have shaken our pursuers, Raboth once
more descended beneath the lower stratum, taking the precaution of switching
off all lights as he did so.
He
looked about carefully, saw no sign of pursuit, and made the fatal mistake of
turning on the lights. Scarcely had he done this ere a missile crashed through
the back of the cab and exploded with a deafening noise. It struck on Ra-both's
side and killed him instantly, tearing his body to shreds.
Our
lights were extinguished by the explosion, but a powerful searchlight played
on us from behind and another shell carried away our stern. Then the craft
lurched violently and fell, turning end-over-end while I clung desperately to
my seat.
CHAPTER III
As the
wreck hurtled downward it
gathered momentum each instant, and I expected nothing less than a terrific
crash. To my surprise, however, the craft plunged nose first into water and
sank rapidly. The cabin filled instantly through the great hole, torn by the mattork
shell; but this same hole proved to be my salvation, for after the first cold
shock of immersion was past I managed to scramble through it.
For
several seconds I continued to sink in spite of my frantic efforts, due to the
downward momentum of the craft
I
had just left. Then I stopped, and slowly began to make some progress upward,
though it seemed at every stroke that my lungs must burst for want of oxygen.
After
what seemed an age of lung-straining torture, my head bobbed above the surface,
and I trod water while inhaling great breaths of the moist, salt air.
In
the blackness of the Zarovian night, broken only at infrequent intervals by
the momentary twinkle of a star or two through a rift in the ever-present cloud
envelope overhead, I was unable to see in any direction. But I heard a familiar
sound, far to my right—the roll of breakers on a windward shore. Toward this
sound I swam slowly.
The
sound grew louder as I progressed, and presently I lowered an exploring foot to
find the bottom. Not reaching it, I swam onward once more. The second test
proved more successful, and I stood erect, only to be knocked flat by a huge
wave. I scrambled to my feet and, half wading, half swimming, at length dragged
my weary body up on a sandy beach beyond reach of the breakers.
After
a brief rest I arose and walked still farther inland, where I soon ran into a
thick copse of bush-fern. The ground beneath the curved fronds was covered with
moss, and on this I stretched, thankful for so soft a couch. In a short time, I was asleep.
I was awakened by the sound of voices quite
near me. It was broad daylight and promised to be an exceptionally warm day. My
silky scarlet garments had long since dried, as had my leather trappings, which
had stiffened as a result of their soaking.
I judged from the tones that two people were
conversing— a man and a girl. At first I did not hear what they said as I lay
there on the soft moss only half awake, looking drowsily up through the
rustling, wind-shaken fern leaves. Then the man raised his voice.
"Well you know, Cousin Loralie, that
your parents desire the
marriage as much as mine," he said in mincing patoa. "Is this not enough for you? Are you so
lacking in respect for the wishes of your father and mother that you would set
them aside for an idle whim?"
"Not
for an idle whim, Cousin Gadrimel," replied the girl in a clear, musical
voice. "I do not love you. What more need be saidF'
"How
do you know?" he demanded. "Yesterday we saw each other for the first
time. We had but a few moments alone. I have not more than touched your hand. I
could make you love me as I have . . ."
"As you have countless others, no doubt. Understand me, once and for all. No man can
make me love him, nor could I make myself love any man, even if I desired to do
so as a matter of filial duty."
Not
wishing to play the part of an eavesdropper, however unintentional, I stood up,
intending to offer my apologies and take my departure. As I did so I heard a
muttered, "We'll see," from the man, followed by the sound of a
struggle and a little scream of fear.
Pushing
my way through the shrubbery, I came out on a moss-covered sward in the middle
of which played an ornate fountain. Just beyond the fountain I saw a girl
struggling to free herself from the embrace of a tall blond youth, whose
yellow beard had just begun to grow. Both wore the scarlet of royalty.
"Let
me go, you beastl" The girl's big brown eyes were flashing—her disheveled,
dark brown ringlets flying as she struggled to free herself. Even in anger she
was beautiful-more beautiful than any woman I have seen on three planets.
I
sprang forward, seized the youth by the collar, and twisting it, said, "If
you are bent on wrestling this morning, Prince Gadrimel, permit me to offer you
a more even match."
He
released the girl and tried to turn, whereupon I twisted his collar the tighter.
Then he reached for his tork, but I
seized his wrist and bent it up behind his back. At this he began to bellow for
the guard, whereupon I sent him crashing headfirst into the fem-brake.
I
turned and bowed to the girl, who was still flushed and panting from her
struggle. "Your Highness's pardon, if I intrude. It appeared to me that
you were being annoyed."
"You were right, and I
am indebted to you, Prince. . . ?"
"Prince Zinlo of
Olba," I finished for her, "at your service."
"I
am the Princess Loralie of Tyrhana," she replied with a smile that revealed two adorable dimples. "Pray tell me . . ."
Our
conversation was interrupted by the youth, who, after extricating himself from
the bushes, rushed between us with drawn scarbo.
"Body
and bones of Thorth," he snarled. "You have sealed your death
warrant, Prince Zinlo."
Then
he made a slash at me that would have severed my head from my body had I not
leaped back. As I did so, I drew my own blade and engaged him. Finding in a
moment that he was no master of fence, I disarmed him—then retrieved his
weapon before he had time to recover from his amazement.
"You have dropped your scarbo," I
said. "Permit me." And I presented it to him, hilt first.
Again
he lunged at me, and again I disarmed him, with as much ease as before—then
leaped and picked up his weapon before he could reach it.
"Perhaps
I had better keep this," I said. "You seem so unfamiliar with its
use that you may injure yourself."
He
reached for his tork, but I was expecting this, and with a quick slash cut his belt. The weapon fell onto the soft moss, and I
kicked it into the shrubbery.
He
cringed as if expecting the death blow, then suddenly looked beyond me,
exclaiming, "By the sixteen kingdoms of ReabonI Look behind you!"
Thinking it a trick, I did not look until I heard a scream from Princess Loralie and the clank of weapons. Then I whirled, and saw her struggling in the grip of a purple-clad noble whom
I instantly recognized as my opponent of the tower—Talibozl An
Olban airship resting on the ground behind him explained his presence here.
Four burly warriors were rushing toward me with drawn scarbos.
"It
seems that we have some real fighting to do," I said to Gadrimel, tossing
him his weapon. He caught it, and came manfully enough to guard, just as the
four armed retainers of Taliboz bore down on us. I crouched low and extended my
point as my first assailant made a vicious swing at my neck.
He
died on my blade with an ear-piercing shriek, and I wrenched it free just as my
second assailant came up. This fellow was not only more wary, but quite expert
with the scarbo. He laid my cheek open with a quick cut just as I was coming on
guard. His second blow was aimed at my legs, and would have mowed me down as
grain is cut had I not leaped back. As it was, the point of his weapon raked my
thigh.
Stung
by the pain of my two wounds, I forgot my swordsmanship for the moment, and
brought my blade straight down in a blow which he should have easily parried.
It was the unexpected clumsiness of the stroke which told, as he did not come
on guard in time; my blade divided his head as cleanly as a knife divides a
Zarovian sporepod.
Over
at my left, Prince Gadrimel was sorely beset by the other two ruffians. His
face and body were bloody as my own, yet he gave them back blow for blow and
thrust for thrust. But he was plainly weakening. With the princess being
carried off, there was no time for the niceties of dueling, and I felt no
compunction about leaping up behind his nearest assailant and striking off his
head. The other, seeing the blow, turned to face me; but to his own undoing,
for he left Gadrimel the opening he sought. With a quick slash the prince
disemboweled him.
"Come,"
I snapped, dashing toward the airship. "We must rescue the princess from
that fiend."
He
followed close at my heels, but we had not covered more than half the distance
to the airship when it began to rise. Then a mattork projectile screamed past
our heads, exploding in the shrubbery behind us, followed by another and
another. We took shelter behind the marble rim of the fountain, and Taliboz's
bombardment ceased.
The
cannonading was suddenly resumed; but this time it came from the castle behind
us. The castle guards, evidently believing themselves attacked by the Olban
ship, were returning its fire with a vengeance.
Gadrimel
and I both rose from our hiding place, and he shouted, "Don't shootl The princess is on board."
The
firing ceased, but too late, for the airship, its motive mechanism put out of
commission by a mattork shell, was falling into the bay. I watched
breathlessly as it hurtled downward, expecting to see it plunge beneath the
water as my own had done the night before; but, to my astonishment, two
parachutes flew upward from the fore and aft decks and effectively broke its
fall. It alighted on an even keel with a great splash that nearly capsized a
small sailing vessel anchored near by. Sinking no deeper than its deck
railing, it rose again to ride the waves as evenly as if it had been built
especially for the purpose.
Washed shoreward, it drifted closer and
closer to the small sailing vessel while Gadrimel and I rushed down to the
shore. Then, as we stood helplessly watching, a dozen armed men swarmed into
the sailing vessel from the airship. The sailors instantly dived over the
opposite side and swam for shore. The last man to step into the captured ship
was the purple-clad Taliboz, carrying in his arms the limp form of Princess
Loralie.
"To
the docks!" shouted GadrimeL racing madly off to the right. "They are
raising the sails!"
As I hurried along, I saw the sails go up,
billowing in the breeze, while four of Taliboz's men at the prow hoisted the
anchor.
Gadrimel
and I rounded a bend in the wooded shore line, and a crescent of docks to which
several hundred ships were moored came into view. At the same time, the vessel
which Taliboz had captured, with all sails up and anchor hoisted, veered about
in the considerable breeze and made swiftly for the open sea.
A
party of soldiers from the castle had reached the dock ahead of us. With them
was a tall, broad-shouldered figure in the scarlet of royalty, whose grizzled
beard was cut off square below the chin, and whose regal countenance was
empurpled with anger.
"It's
my father, Emperor Aardvan of Adonijar," said Gadrimel.
"Prepare
six warships for pursuit, at once," I heard Aardvan shout.
A thousand men hurried to
carry out his orders.
As
we approached this commanding individual, the prince and I both bowed low, with
right hands extended palm downward, in the universal Zarovian salute to
royalty. I was struck by the contrast between this brawny, bull-necked emperor
and his mincing, effeminate son.
Aardvan,
glaring down at us, roared, "Two brawling princelings, all spattered with
blood. What did you do? Scratch eath other like a couple of marmelot cubs? Who
is your playmate, Gadrimel? Were those his men who carried off the
princess?"
"This
is Torrogi Zinlo of Olba, Your Majesty," replied Gadrimel.
"The
Imperial Crown Prince of Olbal What does he
here?" I explained briefly.
"We slew four men,
sire," boasted Gadrimel.
"I've heard of this
Taliboz," growled Aardvan. "A traitorcms and dangerous fellow. You are welcome to Adonijar, Prince Zinlo.
Stay as long as you like, and when you are ready to depart I'll send a guard of
honor to accompany you to your own country."
"With
your majesty's permission," I said, "I should prefer to accompany the
fleet which is preparing to follow Taliboz."
"That
will be as Gadrimel says," rumbled his father. "He will command the
fleet."
"Come
along," said Gadrimel. "Our private quarrel can wait. For the present
we have common interests, and your blade may be needed."
A gray-bearded naval
officer came running up and saluted.
"What is it,
Rogvoz?" inquired Emperor Aardvan.
"The fleet is ready,
Your Majesty," replied the officer.
"Then let's be
off," said Gadrimel.
We
hurried aboard one of the six vessels, all of which swarmed with armed men,
accompanied by the gray-bearded officer. A few moments later, with all sails
set, the fleet plowed out of the harbor in pursuit of the small fishing boat,
which was now but a speck on the horizon.
CHAPTER
IV
The tint sailboat in which my mortal enemy, Taliboz, was
carrying off the Princess Loralie, was making steadily northeast toward Olba
with our six battleships in hot pursuit, when suddenly I saw her come about and
head directly south.
Gadrimel,
Admiral Rogvoz and I were watching together on the foreward deck of the
flagship. The admiral stared for a minute through his long glass. Then he
carefully scanned the horizon toward the northeast.
"They
have good reasons for turning," he announced excitedly. "A great
ordzook approaches from the northl"
He passed the glass to
Gadrimel, who looked for a momerit, then with an exclamation of horror, passed it on to me.
When
I had adjusted the glass to suit my vision, I saw a most fearsome sight. Not
more than a half mile behind the small sailboat, and gaining on it rapidly, a
gigantic and terrible head projected from the water, swinging on a thick
arched neck. The head alone was half as long as the sailboat it pursued; and
although the body was submerged, I could see, at intervals of fifteen to twenty
feet, sharp spines flashing intermittently above the waves to a distance of
fully a hundred feet behind the head.
"Do you think we can
save them, Rogvoz?" asked Gadrimel.
"We
can but try, Highness," replied the admiral. "It is doubtful."
He turned to the captain of the boat. "Order the mattork crews to start
firing on the ordzook, and signal all other captains to do likewise."
The
captain shouted his orders to the waiting cannon crews, and a moment later the
din of these rapid-fire weapons was terrific. From the high forward deck our
signal man meanwhile busied himself semaphoring with two huge disks, one red, the other yellow. The other ships immediately opened fire
with their mattorks, adding to the deafening noise which our own ship had
started.
We
were approaching closer to the marine monster now, as the path of the fishing
boat crossed our own. I could see the ordzook turn from time to time, snapping
at the stinging mattork projectiles as they struck the spiny ridges of its undulating
scaly body, which was a shimmering, bluish-green in color. The head and neck
were a brilliant shade of yellow, except where neck and shoulders joined, for
at this point a broad band of scarlet formed a flaming ring—a danger signal
which all creatures might beware.
The
speed of the mighty amphibian was impeded by its constant turning to snap at
its wounds, enabling the small boat containing Taliboz and Loralie to gain on
it gradually.
Suddenly changing its course, the monster
wheeled and swam toward our fleet. "To the right!" called Rogvpz.
"Veer to the right!"
The ship on which we stood came about
suddenly, her starboard rail for a moment submerged beneath the waves. All
hands grabbed for such fixed objects as they could cling to.
Behind
us trailed the fleet, and on came the ordzook, not stopping now to snap
futilely at the stinging projectiles, but bent on more deadly action.
With
all the port mattorks trained on the monster, I thought to see it go into a death struggle at any moment, but the projectiles
seemed merely to irritate it. We were so close in a few moments that I could
see its relatively tiny jet black eyes, set just above the comers of the great
gaping mouth which was filled with a formidable array of saw-edged teeth.
We
passed it safely, as did the second, third, fourth and fifth boats, but the
last of the fleet, lagging behind because of improper manipulation of its
sails, could not escape.
The
enormous yellow head reared upward for an instant on the arched, spiny neck.
Then, with formidable jaws distended, it struck downward at the fore deck. The
captain of the ship and three of his men standing with him disappeared into
the huge maw along with most of the deck on which they stood.
Again
and again the creature struck at the doomed craft, until sails, masts, men, and
most of the upper works were gone. Then it reared upward in the water and came
down with a tremendous crash on the middle of the defenseless hulk. Broken in
two by the terrific impact, both halves of the ship sank almost instantly, and
the fearful creature which had wrought this destruction before our eyes plunged
into the waves after them. Nor did we see it more.
Once
more we turned our attention to the boat containing Taliboz and the princess.
Hemmed off from Olba by our five vessels, they were now sailing due south at a
speed apparently equaling our own, for as time passed the distance between us
did not seem appreciably to alter.
Because
of the presence of Princess Loralie on board the fishing boat we were
constrained to withhold our mattork fire, with which otherwise we could soon
have brought Tali-boz to terms. He fired no shots, either, except a few stray
projectiles from the torks, which led us to believe that he had not salvaged
any mattorks from his wrecked airship.
As
we sailed southward over the blue-gray waters of the Ropok Ocean, the point of
land on which the city of Adonijar is situated receded from view, and in all
directions showed only a cloud-lined sky meeting and almost blending with the
rolling waters.
But
even this vast expanse of sky and sea was not a lonely place. It teemed with
life of a thousand varieties—with creatures of striking beauty and of the most
terrifying ugliness. Quite near our boat several large white birds with
red-tipped wings and long, sharply curved beaks skimmed the water in search of
food. Mighty flying reptiles, some with wingspreads of more than sixty feet,
soared high in the air, scanning the water until they saw such prey as suited
them; then, folding their webbed wings, they plunged with terrific speed, to
emerge with struggling prey and leisurely flap away.
With
the advent of sudden darkness, common to tropical and semi-tropical Zarovia,
bright searchlights flashed out from the mast-heads of the entire fleet, and
the boat we pursued was thus kept in sight.
While
these lights were an absolute necessity in the blackness of the moonless
Zarovian night, they were also a nuisance, as they attracted to the vessel
countless droves of flying creatures, mostly reptilian; many of them, blinded
by the bright beams, flew against masts, sails or rigging and fell, squawking,
croaking or hissing to the deck. Some of them,
infuriated and only partly crippled or stunned, menaced our lives until
dispatched and tossed overboard.
After
several hours I grew weary and retired for the night. Despite the constantly
repeated disturbances above deck and the frequent colliding of the craft with
some marine monster, I soon fell asleep.
I
was awakened late the following morning by Prince Gad-rimel's valet, who
insisted on ministering to my wants as became a prince of the blood imperial.
After a breakfast of stewed mushrooms and succulent grilled fish, washed down
with a bowl of steaming kova, I went on deck where I found Gadrimel and Rogvoz
in consultation.
"They
swing gradually but surely toward the southwest, Highness," said Rogvoz as
I came up. "They are trying to circle us and sail once more toward
Olba."
"Is
there no way we can prevent their doing this?" asked Gadrimel.
"We
can only follow them so that their circle must be so large that they will be
cornered by land."
I
took up the glass which he had put down in order to make some calculations, and
focused it on the ship we were pursuing. On the rear deck I made out the slim
figure of the princess, who also held a telescope in her hand. She raised it a
moment later, and I saw that it was pointed at our ship. I waved my left arm.
Her reply was instantaneous, as her shapely
white arm flashed above her head. Then I saw Taliboz, glowering with rage, come
up behind her, wrench the glass from her grasp and with significant gestures
order her forward. With little head held high, she defied him, but he grasped
her wrist and dragged her away. As she disappeared from view, I lowered my
glass, and Gadrimel, who had evidently been watching me, said, "Beard of
Thorth, Prince Zinlo! Your usually serene and smiling
countenance has suddenly become as1 stormy and forbidding as the
Azpok at change of seasons. What have you seen?"
"Enough,"
I replied, "to make me long for the day when I can once more meet Taliboz
face-to-face, scarbo in handl"
For
five days we followed in tormenting nearness, sometimes close enough to be
within hailing distance, sometimes so far back that we feared to lose them. It
was late on the fifth day that a lookout at the masthead above us suddenly
shouted: "Land! Land!"
Instantly
Gadrimel, Rogvoz and I rushed to the foredeck. Taliboz, now hemmed in from all
sides by our fleet, was doing the only thing left for him to do, steering
directly for a sheltered inlet. He rounded a curve in the shore line, disappearing
from view, and some time later, when we sailed into the inlet, we saw his craft
beached.
Rogvoz,
who had the glass, exclaimed, "The fool! The utter fool! To escape us he
plunges into worse danger, dragging the princess with him. We, at least, would
not eat him.''
"What do you
mean?" demanded Gadrimel.
"Just
now I saw the entire party disappear into the fern forest."
"But this danger you mention. What is
it?"
"I
had forgotten, Highness, that you are unfamiliar with this part of Zarovia.
This is the land of the terrible, flesh-eating cave-apes—huge creatures, any
one of which is said to be a match for a dozen men, but with intelligence far
greater than that of other apes. Some of the few men who have landed here and
had the good fortune to escape them say they not only have a peculiar clucking
language of their own, but can also speak patoa."
"We must catch up to them quickly,"
I cried.
The
five ships were brought up as close to the sloping, sandy beach as was safe,
then boats were lowered. Soon a force of five hundred fighting men stood on
shore.
After a short consultation, it was decided
that we should form a long line, the men keeping about ten feet apart, and so enter
the forest in the direction which Taliboz had taken. This line, if kept
unbroken, would form a great net nearly a mile
across in which the fugitives, we felt sure, must inevitably be snared. Rogvoz
took charge of the extreme left end of the line, Gadrimel directed the center,
and I had charge of the extreme right end.
Tripping
over clinging creepers, floundering through sticky morasses, cutting our way
through matted, tangled rope-like vines which hung downward from the mighty
branches of the tree-fems, and constantly slapping at the biting and stinging
insect pests which abounded in these lowlands, we soon found ourselves
progressing with exasperating slowness.
Not only did the vegetable and insect world
seek to detain us, there was the menace of animals and reptiles as well. A
giant whistling serpent—a hideous creature fully forty feet in length, with
long, upright ears and sharp spines the full length of its back—struck down one
of our men and succeeded in killing two others before it was finally dispatched
by the bullets from a score of torks.
Soon
the men had banded in groups of about twenty each for mutual protection.
The
group nearest us lost three men to a ramph, a great hairless bearlike creature,
whose scaly hide was a brilliant chlorophyl green above, fading to a greenish
yellow below. After they had slain it they fell to with their scarbos, cutting
it up and bearing portions of the meat with them, for ramph steaks were considered
the most delicious meat on Zarovia.
Some
time near noon, my party was attacked by a marmelot, a vicious feline fully as
large as a terrestrial draft horse, its hairless, scaly hide a mottled orange
and black, its great saber tusks fully a foot in length. Seven of our men were
slain by this, one of the fiercest of the Zarovian jungle creatures, before it
was dispatched.
Brave men were these
soldiers of Adonijar; in spite of the sudden death which hovered over us in these tangled jungles, they cut
their way forward without grumbling or word of turning back.
Because
they'had stopped to cut up the ramph they had slain, we had lost sight of the
party next to us, and it was not until darkness suddenly descended that I
thought to communicate with them. I called out to them then to halt, but received
no reply. Again I called at the top of my voice, but there was no answer.
"Remain
here," I told my men, "and I will go and find them. They cannot be
far away."
Glad
for a rest after their arduous march, the group quickly cleared a place for a
fire, and got out their kova and provisions to prepare their evening meal.
I
then set out in the direction which I felt sure would lead me to the next group
of warriors, flashing my light ahead of me. I must have traveled for at least
two miles, shouting from time to time without receiving any reply, when suddenly
I heard a quavering, mournful howl from the darkness at my right.
Swinging
my light around in the direction of the noise, I saw three huge, slinking forms
and three pairs of blazing eyes. They slightly resembled terrestrial wolves,
but were fully twice as large as any wolves that ever lived on Earth. Their
scaly hides were slate gray in color, and each had a ruff of long, sharp spines
which stood out around the neck like a spiked collar. Upon describing them
later, I learned that they were awoos—so called, no doubt, because of their
doleful, nerve-racking cries.
Swinging
my tork into line, I instantly brought down the foremost beast, whereupon the
others crouched, disappearing from view. Howl after howl resounded from all
directions. They began to close in on me.
I
whirled this way and that, and where the light was caught by the glowing eyes
of the wary creatures, my tork spat death, but I soon saw that it was a
hopeless fight. It seemed that as soon as I killed or wounded one creature, two
more stepped in to take its place.
There
was nothing left for me to do but to climb into the branches above me, hoping
they would be unable to follow. Accordingly I swarmed up one of the trailing,
rope-like vines which hung from the mighty fronds of a tree-fern fully sixty
feet above my head, and soon found myself in a huge leaf crown which afforded a
temporary resting place.
The
howling chorus below was terrible to hear. The pack, now more than a hundred in
number, milled about the base of the tree while the more impatient of the
creatures leaped up, snapping and snarling. Time and again I used my tork,
littering the ground with their carcasses, but the dead brutes were instantly
replaced by others.
Wondering
how long this sort of thing would last, I was
slipping a fresh clip of gas and one of projectiles into my weapon when I heard
a rustle of the leaves above me. Glancing upward, I beheld a huge gorilla-like
face surmounting a mighty chest fully three feet across. Then a great hairy
hand descended on my head with terrific force, and I lost consciousness.
CHAPTER
V
When
I had once more become aware
of my surroundings, I was lying in semi-darkness on a cold stone floor. The top
of my head was bruised and tender, and my neck so lame that a sharp twinge of
pain shot through it each time I turned my head to look about. The belt, to
which my tork and scarbo had been fastened, was gone.
I
sat up, and my brain swam dizzily for a moment. My vision cleared presently,
and I saw that the source of the light which but faintly illuminated the spot I occupied was a jagged
opening—evidently the mouth of a huge cave.
Quite
close to me on my left, I became aware that some creature was breathing
heavily, apparently in sleep. Turning, I beheld the recumbent form of a
gigantic hairy female—head pillowed on arm, and knees drawn up as if for
warmth, sleeping not four feet from me.
The
face was neither ape nor human, but partook of the characteristics of both. The
form, slender of waist, full-breasted and broad-hipped, was more like that of a
human female than a she-ape, though covered with short, reddish-brown hair. The
limbs were not ungraceful, but the toes were long and evidently prehensile. I
judged that the creature, when standing erect, must be at least eight feet in
height and so powerfully muscled as to be a formidable antagonist.
Stealthily
I stood erect, then tiptoed toward the mouth of the
cave. I had not taken more than a dozen steps when something tripped me and I
fell headlong to the jagged floor. At the same time there came the sound of a fearful growl behind me.
Before
I could scramble to my feet I was pounced upon from behind and jerked erect.
Then, with my arms pinioned behind me by two powerful hairy hands, I was
marched out into the sunlight. Looking up, to the considerable inconvenience
of my injured neck, I saw that my captor was the big female who had been
sleeping so peacefully a moment before. She had been awakened by a
thin but exceedingly tough twisted string of gut, tied to my ankle and her
wrist.
We
were high up on a rugged hillside which seemed honeycombed with caves. In the
valley far below us, I saw the waving fronds of huge tree-ferns above the
tangled mass of jungle vegetation.
"So,
food-man, you would escape Chixa, and thus have Chixa slain," said my
captor in a peculiar, clucking patoa.
"It
is high time you were taken before Rorg, Perhaps he is hungry."
"Release
my wrists," I replied, "and IH be glad to go with you before Rorg.
Who is he, and what has his hunger to do with me?"
"Rorg
is the king, the Rogo of the Cave-Apes." The tall female released my
wrists and stepped up beside me, taking a firm
grip on my right arm. "If he is hungry he may want to eat you."
"What makes you think
I will be good to eat?" I asked.
"I
have tasted the flesh of many food-men, and most of it is good, though it is
sometimes too salty. Are you very salty?"
"Very. I'm afraid your
ruler would be displeased."
"If
you are very salty he will be greatly pleased," said Chixa. "He likes
salty food-men, though I do not."
About
the furry waist of my captor there was a string like the one bound to my ankle.
Swinging from this string on the side opposite me, by
a short hook in the handle, was a weapon
I greatly coveted.
It was a club of hard wood about three feet
in length, shaped something like the blade of an oar, but thicker and heavier,
and pointed at the end. Set in the two edges of this club were small bits of
sharp flint which gave it a formidable
saw-like appearance. It was heavy enough to crush a skull or break a limb, and sharp enough to lacerate the toughest muscle.
A large flint knife also swung between her breasts from a cord around her neck.
The cave-ape walking beside me was in some
ways like a woman, and because of that faint similarity I
hesitated for a moment to carry out the plan which had come
to me. But life has ever been dear to me—even though I love adventure so
greatly that I have risked death in many terrible forms on three planets—so my
hesitation was but momentary.
Suddenly
turning with my right arm bent at the elbow, I put all my weight in a blow that
landed in the furry solar plexus. With a terrible sound—half scream, half roar—my tall captor
clasped her hands to her abdomen and bent over. As she did so I pivoted the
other way with a left to the point of her jaw, and she fell unconscious at my
feet.
Quickly
slipping the knife cord from around her neck, I sawed the gut tether from my ankle. Then I seized the club which dangled
from her belt, and looked about me for the most likely avenue of escape.
To
my surprise and horror, I saw that there was none, for at the sound of Chixa's
voice, the caves had suddenly spewed forth not less than a thousand of these
gigantic creatures, all armed as I now was, with flint knives and saw-edged
clubs. The mature females varied in height from seven to nine feet and the males
from ten to twelve.
Those
nearest me had spied me as I got to my feet, and now approached menacingly from
all sides with bared fangs and low, throaty growls—the males displaying long,
down-curving tusks which greatly increased their ferocious appearance.
With
the club held swordlike in my right hand, and the flint knife gripped in my
left, I leaped for a great leaning boulder, one side of which could afford me
protection from above and behind.
A
huge tusked male sprang forward to bar my progress, and swung his saw-edged
club in a terrific blow. He was fully eleven feet in height, and towering above
me as he did, offered no opportunity for quick club work.
There
was,'however, a chance to use the knife, which I did without compunction.
Leaping beneath his swinging arms, I buried it in the right side of his abdomen and ripped him across the belly. While he swayed drunkenly,
I completed my rush to the temporary protection of the boulder, and as I turned
with my back against it to meet the attack of the others, I saw him topple to
the ground.
A moment later I was confronted by a
semicircle of growling, roaring cave-apes, swinging their
clubs menacingly, but a little diffident about approaching me too
closely—probably because of what had happened to their companion. Mixed with
the growling and roaring I could distinctly hear the patoan words "kill" and "meat," which sounded ominous
enough.
The
great tusked males seemed to be working themselves into a frenzy of fury as
they came closer and closer—evidently their primitive way of attempting to
overcome their fear of me.
Presently
one leaped out ahead of the closing line, and swung his club for my head with a terrific downward, two-handed stroke. I stepped to the left, and
forward, and as his club was shattered on the stone where I had been standing,
the flinty edge of my own bit deeply into his cervical vertebrae. He fell on
his face without a sound.
I
sprang to a new position, brandishing my club menacingly, and the line of
attackers moved back a little.
"Killl
Kill!" The word was repeated constantly now as the savage semicircle
closed in once more.
"Come and be
killed!" I replied.
"You
will be next to die, food-man," roared a huge male who stood near the
center of the line, "for Urg is about to kill you." Urg stood at
least twelve feet in height, a head taller than the other males in the front
line, and his great down-curving tusks, fully seven inches in length, gave him
a most ferocious aspect.
He seemed
about to spring forward, and I had braced myself for his attack, when there was
a sudden commotion behind him. The milling
crowd of apes drew back respectfully to make way for a huge male, taller and
heavier even than Urg.
Just
behind him walked two young females, one waving a fern front to keep annoying insects away from him, while the other
carried a huge gourd-like fungus with a bottle neck and a bowl made from a
split sporepod. Behind these two walked more ape-maidens, some carrying fresh
meat, while others bore bowls heaped high with fragments of edible fungi or
sporepods, cracked, and ready for eating.
Coming
up behind Urg, the newcomer carelessly pushed him aside and stood in the front
line, surveying me with apparent boredom. At this, Urg gave a low growl,
whereupon the larger ape smote him in the mouth.
"Growl
again at Rorg, and you will feel the weight of his
club."
"I did not know it was
Rorg who pushed me," replied Urg.
"Why
do you hesitate before this little food-man?" asked Rorg. "Do you fear
him?"
"Of
course not," answered Urg. "I was playing with him. I was about to
kill him when you came up."
"I
believe you fear him," continued Rorg. "I notice he slew your
brother, Arg, who was as good a fighter as you. This is unusual for a food-man.
He must be a mighty warrior among his people. It shall be for Rorg, mightiest
of the cave-apes, to slay him."
"It
is my right to kill him," growled Urg, "for he slew my brother."
"He
will be killed when and how I ordain, for I am king." He swung on me once more.
"Who are you, food-man," he asked, "and how did you slay my
people?"
"I
am Zinlo," I replied, "and I slew your people with the weapons of
Chixa which I took from her."
"How
could you take Chixa's weapons from her?" asked Rorg incredulously.
"Why, she is ten times as strong as you. I do not believe it. Chixa gave you her weapons, so Chixa shall be
slain."
"Chixa
lies unconscious on the ground, Rorg," clucked a female. "This
food-man must have taken her weapons by force."
"Chixa
is feigning and shall be slain," said Rorg. "Such a thing would not be possible. Go and slay her, Urg."
All
this time I had been standing guardedly, saying nothing; but when it became
apparent that the female ape was about to be killed through no fault of her
own, but because of something I had done, I felt a wave of pity for her. Brute
and man-eater though she was, she had been considerate of me. After all, she
was something like a woman.
"Rorg,"
I said, "I did not he about taking her weapons
from her, and I can prove ft."
"How?"
"By taking the weapons from your
strongest warrior in the same manner."
"Can you take Urg's weapons from
him?" asked Rorg. "Of course."
"Then
you must be very strong or very clever. I like clever food-men. Sometimes I
keep them for a long while when they are exceedingly clever. When they fail to
amuse me they die. Let me see you take Urg's weapons, and I will spare your
life for today, at least."
"But
what of Chixa?"
"I will spare her
life, also."
"Good.
I will need plenty of room, and I demand your promise that I will not be
attacked by any one other than Urg."
"You
will have plenty of room, and you have my word that you will not be attacked or
interfered with," said Rorg.
"Move
back, then, all of you," I said, "until I
tell you to stop."
The
crowd drew back until the front line was a hundred feet from the rock in all
directions.
"That
is enough. Now, Urg, come here and I will take your weapons. I will go unarmed,
and you must not have your weapons in your hands. You will walk beside me as if
I were your prisoner fastened to a
tether." With this I dropped weapons to the ground.
"It is a trick," growled Urg, but
at Rorg*s command he hung his flint knife around his neck, and hooked his club
in the string around his waist. As the brute lumbered up beside me, and I saw
what a mighty tower of strength he was, I must confess that I felt considerable
doubt about being able to knock him out.
He strode along beside me, his great arms
swinging at his sides. I timed my swing for the instant when the great paw
nearest me was back, leaving the abdomen unguarded. Then I pivoted, landing my
right fist in his solar plexus—all the force I could muster behind it.
With
a grunt of surprise, he doubled forward as Chixa had done; but before I could
swing for his jaw, he stood erect once more and
reached for his club. His chin, by this1 time, was so high in the
air that I could not reach it, and he had his plexus covered by his great
forearm; there was nothing I could do with my fists. His shins, however, were
exposed; I kicked the right one with my sandaled foot.
Uttering
a howl of pain, he raised his foot and launched it at me, whereupon I grasped
it with both hands, and twisting it with a sudden jerk that caused the bones
to creak, turned his toes downward and his heel upward at the same time. This
turned him completely around, and a quick push sent him on his face.
Before
he could scramble erect, I leaped on his back, planting a heavy blow just
beneath his ear. He shook himself in an effort to dislodge me, but I grasped
one of his tusks with my left hand, and with my legs wrapped around him,
continued to hammer him behind the furry ear.
Standing
erect, he bellowed angrily, and releasing his grip on his club, grasped my left
arm in his huge right hand. Wrenching my hand away from his tusk, he jerked me
forward over his left shoulder and threw me to the ground fully twenty feet
away. Fortunately for me, I alighted on my feet, and although I stumbled and
fell, was unhurt.
I saw Urg coming toward me, but he reeled
drunkenly.
Quickly
springing to my feet, I leaped forward, whereupon he jerked his club from his
belt and made a wild swing for my head. As his momentum bent him forward, I
dodged, and leaping in, planted a blow in his right eye. He straightened, and
I struck him in the solar plexus once more.
This
time he doubled up, exposing his jaw, on which I planted a crashing right hook.
Once more he stood erect, tottering unsteadily, and once more I doubled him up
with a plexus blow, getting in a left to the jaw. He fell on his face as I
sprang out of his way, finishing him with a blow behind the ear.
I
slipped the knife cord from around his neck, and picked up the great saw-edged
club which he had dropped. Then I leaped upon his back, and with one foot on
his neck, brandished the weapons aloft, while a great howl went up from the mob
around me.
From
his place in the center of the line, Rorg walked slowly toward me, attended
only by the female with the fern frond. I stepped down from the prostrate body
of Urg as he approached, and slung the knife about my neck, also hooking the
club in my belt. "Are you convinced?" I asked.
"I
am convinced," replied Rorg. "You are clever enough to be kept alive
for a while, and Chixa shall be spared."
It
was then I noticed a gold bangle about Rorg's wrist. I Saw
that it was stamped with the coat of arms of Taliboz, and it followed that this
must have belonged to one of his retainers.
"Where
did you get the man who wore that bangle?" I asked.
"My
warriors captured him with twelve other food-men, and a food-woman. We have
eaten them all, except one man who is very clever, and
the woman, who is very beautiful."
"Do
you know the name of this clever food-man?" I asked. "His servants
called him Lord Taliboz," was the reply.
"And
the—food-woman?"
"A
royal princess, fit only for royalty. I intend to wed her at the beginning of
the next endir. Although I should like to wed her sooner, I will not depart
from the customs and traditions of my forefathers, who married but one wife at
a time and her at the beginning of each endir, thus taking but ten mates a
year. I had intended Chixa for my next wife, but now she will have to wait for
another endir."
"Is it customary for
cave-apes to mate with food-people?"
"It
is not," replied Rorg, "but we have no old law against it. I make all
the new laws, and I have decreed that, hereafter, all Rogos of the Cave-Apes
may marry food-women if they choose to do so."
"I
have a great curiosity to see this food-man who is so clever and this beautiful
food-woman," I said.
"You
shall see them," replied Rorg. "Come with me. I want you to do some
more clever tricks, anyway, to amuse my wives and children."
As I
strolled away with Rorg I saw Urg stir slightly, then roll over and sit up,
after which he tenderly felt his bruised jaw and the battered spot behind his
ear.
CHAPTER VI
Robg
and I climbed high up the
mountainside while his female attendants and the mob of cave-apes which had
been so bent on killing me scrambled after us.
We
were ascending the tallest peak of a chain of mountains which extended toward
the north and south, their rugged slopes partly concealed by the various strata
of gray clouds which floated lazily westward. And these mountains, as far as I
could see, swarmed with cave-apes.
As
we mounted steadily upward we passed many ape families, some of which were
breakfasting while others appeared to be starting out on their morning quest
for food. Tiny helpless infant apes were at their mothers' breasts.
Spindle-legged, round-bellied ape children played about on the rocky slopes, or
gnawed at bones, scraps of meat, edible fungi, and sporepods.
AH
of them, from babes to adults, watched me with their beady black eyes as I
passed, but none made a hostile move or sound, evidently because of the awesome
presence of Rorg.
At
length we climbed over the rim of what had once been an active volcanic crater.
It was shallow, filled with the litter of centuries. In the center a volcanic
cone projected upward, and toward this we made our way across the debris-strewn
crater floor. The walls of the crater, I noticed, were honeycombed with caves.
Enormous
male apes, some of them nearly as large as Rorg, patrolled the rim of the
crater, their saw-edged clubs swinging in their hairy paws. With these alert
sentries always on duty, it was plain that escape from the crater would be most
difficult and dangerous.
As
we drew near to the mouth of the great central cave a number of females and
young ones of assorted ages and sizes came out.
"These
are my wives and children," said Rorg. "If you are as clever as I
think you are, you will find a way to amuse them."
"I
will find a way," I promised, "but first let me see this clever
food-man and beautiful food-woman of whom you have told me."
"I will send for them
at once."
Searching
in the debris near the cave mouth, I picked up two well-dried finger bones
which looked exactly alike. Palming one and displaying the other as I stood
with my face to the audience and my back to the wall of the volcanic cone, I
proceeded to perform some very simple tricks, such as making a finger bone
disappear from my right hand—then seemingly plucking the same finger bone out of my ear with my left. I
even appeared to remove six finger bones, one after another, from the ear of
one of Rorg's half-grown male children.
My
audience seemed intensely interested in what I was doing, but I noticed that no
matter what tricks I performed, not one of them laughed. Then I remembered
that, to them, I was actually doing the things I seemed to do.
Before
I had performed many tricks I saw two figures coming toward me, each tethered
by the ankle to the wrist of an enormous she-ape. Instantly, I recognized the
purple-clad, black-bearded Taliboz, and the slender, scarlet-draped figure of
Loralie.
Rorg,
who had seated himself on a low boulder with his female attendants behind him,
ordered Loralie to a place on his right and Taliboz on his left.
With
right hand extended palm downward, I bowed low to the princess in the customary
salute to royalty, but she did not respond, nor even give any indication that
she had seen me. Instead, with a haughty toss of her pretty little head, she
sat down at Rorg's right and, looking across at Taliboz, said something in a
low voice which I could not quite catch. He smiled unpleasantly at me.
Puzzled
at this singular and inexplicable show of dislike on the part of the princess,
I mechanically went through several more tricks from the book of magic—then
pocketed my bones and bowed.
"You
are indeed clever, food-man," said Rorg. "You are even more clever than Taliboz. To pluck six bones from the ear of
Vorkl I will not eat you today. You may go now, without tether or guard, but do
not attempt to pass the crater rim or you will die."
I
walked away with the black beady eyes of the cave-apes staring after me and the
sardonic grin of Taliboz following me. But Princess Loralie deliberately looked
in another direction.
As I wandered about the crater I pondered the
strange conduct of the princess. What could I have done—or what could Taliboz
have told her—to arouse her anger and disdain to such a degree that she showed
it even when we were both in deadly peril and should have united forces against
a common enemy?
I
was half oblivious of my surroundings until a hairy paw was laid heavily on my
shoulder. Quickly whirling, I faced a huge ape about eleven feet in height
whose scarred fur was spotted with gray, attesting his considerable age.
"I
am Graak," he said. "Rorg sent me to feed you. I have food in my
cave. Come."
The
old warrior turned and I followed him across the crater past many ape families,
who looked at me curiously, but manifested no special hostility. Presently we
came to a rather small cave, the floor of which was littered with old and
malodorous gnawed bones. From the partly devoured body of a huge ptang, or
giant sloth, with sharp, upcurved claws, he carved a slice of raw meat which he
handed me.
"I
slew the ptang this morning," he said, "so it is fresh and
good."
Casting
about for fuel, I found a pile of dried fem fronds near the entrance. After
powdering a quantity of them, I at length succeeded in igniting them by
striking my flint knife against one of the buckles of my leather trappings, and
soon have a small cooking fire crackling. Over this I held my ptang steak impaled
on a fern frond.
Graak
watched me with evident wonder. "You are indeed a sorcerer."
For
three days and nights I ate the food which Graak brought me and slept in his
cave. Although his manner was surly, he was never openly hostile. But all my
attempts at cultivating his friendship failed.
I
spend most of my daylight hours searching for the cave in which the princess
was confined, but it was not until the morning of the fourth day that I found
her, seated in the doorway of a cave quite near my own. She must have been
purposely avoiding me.
I
swallowed my injured pride, and stepping before her, bowed with right hand
extended, palm downward. "Prince Zinlo craves a word with Her Highness,
Princess Loralie."
She
did not answer, but turning her head away as if she had not heard me, addressed
something to her huge female guardian.
Without moving, I repeated
my request.
She
rose with flashing eyes. "Begone!" There was withering scorn in the
look she gave me. "Annoy me further and I will call the apes and have you
driven away."
I
bowed and departed. There was nothing else left for me to do.
Just
before I reached Graak's cave, I came face-to-face with Taliboz, walking with
his huge female guard. He grinned maliciously and said, "Tomorrow is the
first day of the fourth endir."
"Any fool knows
that," I retorted.
"Perhaps
any fool also knows that on the first day of each endir, Rorg takes a mate. And that if food-men are available, a food-man is served at the
wedding feast." As I stared at him, he added, "Rorg has just
promised me that I shall not be eaten tomorrow."
I
sat down before Graak's smelly cave. On the morrow, Rorg was to take Princess
Loralie as his mate, and there were but two food-men held prisoner by the
cave-apes—Taliboz and myself.
As
we breakfasted on fungi and sporepods the following day, Graak was more
talkative than he had yet been. "Today is Rorg's mating day with the
food-woman—if he fives," he said.
"What do you
mean?"
"Some of our bravest
warriors do not want our race to degenerate by intermarriage with weaklings.
There has been much talk, and I believe Rorg will be challenged."
"Who will challenge the king?"
"It
is the privilege of any warrior to challenge the Rogo to a duel to the death on
the mating-day. The warrior who succeeds in killing him becomes Rogo in his
stead, and takes his prospective bride as well as his other wives, children and
possessions."
"But
suppose one of your warriors who does not believe as
Rorg believes slays him. What will then become of the food-woman?"
"She
will be eaten, and Chixa, who was cheated of her turn, will be taken as a
mate."
As
Graak and I finished our meal, I noticed that the crater was beginning to fill
with apes. Young and old, male and female, they came at first in scattered
family groups, but later in great droves, until the huge pit was literally
seething with moving brown figures.
Presently
a tall, yellow-tusked male shouldered his way through the crowd and stopped at
the door of our cave.
"Rorg
commands the presence of Zinlo, the food-man," he said.
As I
trailed the huge ape through the jostling throng, I tried to formulate some plan of action by which the princess might be
saved. Although I resented her attitude toward me, I felt the urge to fight in her defense.
We
came at length to the mouth of Rorg's lair in the great central cone. Passing
through the deserted cave, dimly illuminated by reflected light from the
exterior, we stepped into a narrow runway which slanted upward in a long
curving spiral.
As
we progressed steadily upward, the way grew so dark that I was forced to hold
out both hands to avoid running against the walls. Presently it became lighter
once more, and in
a few moments we emerged onto the flat, narrow top of the cone.
Squatting
in a semicircle near one edge of the platform were a dozen cave-ape warriors.
At one end of the semicircle I recognized Urg, the huge ape I had disarmed,
leaning on his great, saw-edged club and looking as belligerent as before.
Near the rim just opposite this ring of warriors stood Taliboz and
Princess Loralie.
Although their huge female guards stood behind them, I noticed that their
tethers had been removed. The traitorous Olban noble favored me with a leer as
I emerged from the runway, but the princess would not so much as notice my
coming.
In
the very center stood Rorg, evidently awaiting my arrival as he looked down at
the vast sea of upturned faces in the crater. I was placed with my back to the
twelve warriors.
As
soon as I had taken my position, Rorg held his saw-edged club aloft. Instantly
the vast murmur of voices from below was stilled.
"Your
Rogo takes a mate," he bellowed, his deep tones reverberating from the
surrounding crater walls. Then he leaped high in the air, brandishing his
saw-edged club until the air sang and whistled through its teeth. Alighting
with a loud smack of his leathery feet on the hard rock, so that he faced in a
direction opposite to that in which he had previously looked, he roared once
more, "Your Rogo takes a mate." Leaping, whirling, and alighting as
he had done before, he made his announcement in four directions so that all
might hear.
He
then hurled his club high above his head, caught it deftly as it fell.
"Who will fight Rorg for his bride? Who will fight Rorg for his kingdom?
Speak now, or for another endir, keep silence."
There
was a deep grumbling growl behind me, and, turning, I beheld Urg, fangs bared,
stepping from his place at the end of the line, whirling his great club. "I will fight
Rorg," he shouted in a voice as deep as that of the king-ape.
Rorg
appeared surprised—annoyed. For a moment he stood motionless, glowering at his
challenger. Then, with a bellow of rage, his club held high in one huge paw and
his flint knife gripped in the other, he leaped to the attack.
The
club descended in a deadly, whistling arc, but did not connect, for with
cat-like quickness Urg leaped to one side and struck back. His club bit deep
into Rorg's left shoulder, eliciting a roar of pain and rage from the Rogo, who
instantly swung for his legs.
Urg
sprang back, but not far enough. The flint-toothed point raked one knee, and
blood spurted forth. As he danced about the larger ape, looking for another
opening, he limped, and the limp grew more pronounced as the fight progressed.
Again
and again Rorg rushed in. How Urg succeeded in evading those rushes, lame as he
was, I was uanble to understand. Presently his leg became useless, dangling,
and he waS forced to hop on one foot.
Over
the brutal face of Rorg there crept a look of triumph. Deliberately, now, he
advanced toward his opponent, forcing him backward until he stood on the very
brink of the plateau.
He
leaped in, and as Urg swung a slashing blow for his neck, he ducked, at the
same time whirling his club in a low, horizontal arc. It caught the challenger
halfway between knee and ankle; there was a snap of severed bones, and Urg
toppled backward to alight on his head on the rocks seventy-five feet below.
Scarcely
had he struck ere the milling horde beneath rushed to the spot, brandishing
their flint knives. In less time than it takes to tell, the body had been
dismembered, and a snarling group of apes was fighting over the fragments.
Again
Rorg leaped in the air, bellowing forth his deep-voiced challenge. Although
there were low growls from the ape-warriors standing behind me, none answered the challenge.
"Who
will fight Rorg for his bride and his kingdom?" The final challenge was
flung out by the victorious king-ape as he looked triumphantly about him.
"Speak now, or . . ."
"I'll
fight you, Rorg," I said, drawing club and knife and stepping in front of
the giant. As I did so I caught a fleeting glimpse of Tahboz and Loralie. On
the face of the traitor was pleased anticipation. The eyes of the princess
showed surprise, and something more. Incredible as it
appeared from her recent actions, it was undoubtedly concern for my safety.
But these were only
fleeting impressions.
Rorg
stared incredulously down at me for a moment, evidently unable to believe that
I had actually challenged the king of the cave-apes. Then he struck at me
quickly, but not exerting his full strength, as if I were some insect annoying
him.
Instinctively
I used my club as if it had been a sword-parrying the blow with ease and
countering with a thrust which bit into his furry abdomen, drawing blood and
eliciting a grunt of rage and pain.
Although
the club was so constructed that I could not hope to inflict a mortal wound by
thrusting the sharp flint teeth with which it was armed, it could and did cause
considerable pain and annoyance. As the cave-ape system of fighting was merely
that of striking and dodging. I hoped to offset my adversary's enormous
advantage of strength and reach by employing the technique of a swordsman.
With
an angry bellow, Rorg swung a terrific blow for my legs. Again I parried, and
countered with a neck cut which would probably have terminated the engagement
in my favor had it not been blocked by one of his huge tusks. The tusk snapped off
and clattered to the rock; but as a result, the club wounded him only slightly,
adding to his fury.
Foaming at the mouth and gnashing his teeth
in his rage, the king-ape beset me with a rain of blows that would have been
irresistible to any but a trained swordsman. Splinters and bits of broken flint
flew from our clubs as time and again I parried his terrific blows.
After
each blow I countered with a cut or thrust, and soon my opponent was bleeding
from head to foot; yet his strength and quickness seemed rather to increase
with each fresh wound. Had he possessed a swordsman's training, I verily
believe that ape would have been invincible on his own planet or any other.
Presently
I succeeded in raking him across the forehead with the point of my weapon, so
that the blood ran down in his eyes, half blinding him. But he wiped the blood
away with the back of one huge paw and countered with a blow, the force of
which numbed my wrist and splintered my club into fragments.
I
leaped back, then hurled the club handle straight for
the great, snarling mouth as he bounded forward to finish me. It struck him in
the front teeth, breaking off several and momentarily bewildering him.
In
that moment I leaped, and with the fingers of my left hand entwined in the wiry
hair of his chest and my legs gripping his waist, I buried my flint knife again
and again in his brawny neck. Blood spurted from his pulsing jugular as he
endeavored to shake me off, to reach me with his sharp fangs, and to gore me
with his single remaining tusk. But his mighty strength was spent—his lifeblood
draining.
A
quiver shook the giant frame and like some tall tree of the forest felled by
the woodman's axe, he toppled backward, crashing to the ground.
Leaping
quickly to my feet, I seized the club of the fallen ape-monarch and,
brandishing it aloft, said, "Rorg is dead, and Zinlo is king. Who will
fight Zinlo? Who will be next to die?"
From the throats of several of the
ape-warriors in the semicircle from which Urg had come, came low growls, but
none advanced, and the growls subsided as I singled out in turn with my gaze
each of the truculent ones who had voiced them.
Far
below me, the mob of apes was clamoring, "Meat! We want our meat!"
I
knew that, spent as I was, the enormous body of Rorg was more than I could raise aloft and hurl to the mob below, so I had recourse to
an old wrestling trick. Seizing the limp right arm of the fallen king-ape, I
dragged the body to the edge of the cliff. Then, bringing the arm over my
shoulder in an application of the principle of the lever, I heaved the remains
of Rorg over my head.
A
moment later the milling beasts below were tearing the carcass to pieces,
snarling and snapping over their feast. This custom, I afterward learned, had
been established in consequence of the belief that the flesh of a strong,
brave individual would confer strength and bravery on the one who devoured it.
Again I brandished my club aloft, shouting,
"Who will fight Zinlo for his kingdom? Speak now, or keep silence for
another endir."
This
time I heard not even a single growl from the warriors on the cone top.
An old warrior who had lost both tusks, an ear, and several of his fingers, stepped from
the ranks and advanced to the cliff edge. "Rorg is dead," he
announced. "Farewell to Rorg."
Following
his words, a peculiar, quavering cry went up from the throats of the thousands
of apes congregated in the crater, as well as from those on the plateau. So
weird and mournful did it sound that I shivered involuntarily.
As the last plaintive notes died away, the
old warrior shouted, "Zinlo is king. Hail, Zinlo!"
A deafening din followed as
the ape-horde, brandishing knives and clubs aloft and clattering them together,
cried, "Hail, Zinlol"
I turned in triumph toward the spot where
Taliboz and Loralie had been seated, intending to assure the princess that it
would not be necessary now for her to marry the king of the cave-apes. To my
surprise, I saw that both of them had disappeared. The two huge females who had
been guarding them sat, side by side, slumped against a large boulder, their
chins sunk forward on their hairy chests.
Bounding
forward I seized one of the she-apes by the shoulder and shook her, shouting,
"Where are your prisoners?"
Her
limp body sagged forward, falling on the ground. The second female, when
shaken, showed some signs of returning consciousness.
"What happened?"
I asked. "Where are your prisoners?"
Weakly
she pointed to a needlelike glass sliver embedded in her arm. Extracting it, I
instantly recognized it for a tork projectile of the type which temporarily
paralyzes its victim. In the arm of the other, a similar projectile was
embedded.
Although
he had been disarmed by the apes, it was evident that Taliboz had managed to
keep his ammunition belt, and that during the excitement of my fight with Rorg,
he had found the opportunity to paralyze the two female guards and slip away
with the princess.
That
she had gone with him willingly I could not doubt, for she had made no outcry,
and her previous treatment of me had led me to believe that she would sooner
have accepted Rorg for a mate than me.
I
turned away, the sweetness of victory grown bitter in my mouth. I was about to
enter the runway which led to the cave below, when a small, glittering object
attracted my attention. Stooping, I picked it up and examined it minutely for a
moment. Then a great light dawned on me.
CHAPTER
VII
Hurrying down the runway into the great cave below, I was about to rush out into the daylight to examine the small object I had
found, when a long, muscular arm suddenly went about my shoulders, my head was
crushed against a soft, furry breast, and a pair of pendulous Hps caressed my
cheek.
With
the heel of my hand I pushed the face of a she-ape from mine and broke her
embrace. Surprised, I recognized Chixa. She advanced toward me again, arms
outstretched, but I motioned her off.
"Stand
back," I warned her. "What do you mean by this familiarity?"
"But
I am your mate," replied Chixa. "You have slain Rorg and the other
she has run away. Rorg chose me for his mate before the food-woman came."
"Rorg
chose his own mates, and I'll choose mine," I retorted. "What's this you say about the other she running away?"
"The
food-man and she came down the runway together. I let them escape. I did not
want the food-woman to take my place."
"But how could they
escape when the place is surrounded?"
"The
food-man knew of the inner passageway," replied Chixa. "I showed him
where it was. • . . Am I not as comely as the other shes of my people?"
"No
doubt you are the most comely, Chixa, but
I will never mate with a cave-ape. You say this she went willingly with the
food-man?"
"She did. I think they
will be mates."
"Chixa,"
I said, walking to the entrance and examining the small glittering object that
I had picked up, "you have lied to me."
"I lied," admitted Chixa, not one
whit abashed, "but how do you know? You must be a sorcerer, as Graak
said."
"I
know by this small, broken glass needle, one end of which is stained with
blood," I replied. "Call it magic, if you like, but this needle tells
me that the she was carried away by the food-man."
"It is even as you say," conceded
Chixa. "She was unconscious from the magic of the food-man, and her arm
was bleeding."
"Show
me the entrance to the inner passageway," I commanded.
Chixa sulked, and crouched in a corner.
"Show
me the entrance," I said again, "or I will kill you by magic and feed
you to the crowd outside."
Evidently
the threat to kill her by magic—the fear of the unknown—was more potent than
any ordinary death threat could possibly have been, for she rose, and, walking
to the back of the cave, heaved a great slab of rock to one side, disclosing
the dark mouth of a runway.
"It
was this way they went," she said, "but you will never find them. By
this time they will have taken trails where none but our greatest trackers
could scent them out."
"Who is your best
tracker?"
"Graak is the greatest
of them all."
"Go
instantly," I commanded, "and bring Graak to
me. See that my command is carried out at once, or my magic will follow and
slay you."
"I go," she
responded fearfully, and hurried from the cave.
I
fidgeted impatiently until she returned with Graak, who unhesitatingly offered
to obey his new Rogo. Stooping, he entered the passageway. I hurried after him
with my hands outstretched in the inky blackness in front of me to prevent
dashing myself against the curving walls. We must have gone two miles in this
manner before twilight loomed ahead, followed by daylight, and we emerged in
the open air on a narrow shelf of rock against which the topmost fronds of a giant tree fem brushed. Around and beyond this mighty fern stretched a
forest of its fellows, coming up to the very edge of the mountains that held
the homes of the cave-apes.
Graak
sniffed the air for a moment, then leaped for the nearest fern frond, which
sagged beneath his weight as he caught it with both hands. His great body swung
precariously a full seventy feet above the ground as he went up the slanting frond, hand over hand, until he reached the trunk. After
sniffing at this for a moment, he descended, feet first, to the ground.
I
followed his example, making much more work of it than he, and descending so
slowly that he stamped impatiently before I reached the ground. I wondered how
Taliboz had been able to negotiate this route with his inert burden until I
noticed a long, slender cord dangling from the end of one of the fem fronds,
its lower end about ten feet from the ground. The traitorous noble had
evidently lowered Loralie by means of this cord to within reach of the ground,
where he had evidently cut her loose and carried her off.
While
Graak fidgeted impatiently, I leaped and caught the end of the cord. I called
him to help me, and together we pulled until the frond broke off and came
crashing to the ground. With my flint knife I quickly cut the cord from the
branch and, coiling it about my body, told Graak to proceed. Feeling that we
might have a journey ahead of us, I thought of several ways in which the cord
might be useful.
We
had not gone more than a mile in the fem forest when the cave-ape pointed to a
set of smaller footprints beside Taliboz's and said, "The she walked from
here."
Recovering
at this point from the paralysis induced by the tork projectile, she had gone
on with her abductor, willingly or not.
Although
the footprints led at first toward the west, they presently began to turn
southwest, toward the coast.
For many hours we followed the trail without
food or drink; then Graak stopped in a clump of bush ferns which furnished us
pure, fresh water. He next plucked some spore-pods, cracking them with his
teeth. I split some open with my knife. They had a pleasant, nutlike flavor.
We
resumed our journey until the advent of sudden darkness, when we climbed into
the leaf-crown of a tall tree fern to pass the night there.
Graak
fell asleep at once, but I could not. No sooner had darkness descended on the
forest than the night-roaming carnivora were astir, making the night hideous
with their cries—howling awoos, the horrid, mirthless laughter of hyenalike
hahoes, the terrific roars of marmelots, the
death-cries of the victims.
I
think the gentle rocking of the trees, together with the rustling of the
countless millions of fern leaves, lulled me to slumber. At any rate, I was
awakened by the great hairy paw of Graak pulling at my arm, which I had thrown
across my face—a habit of mine while sleeping. "The light has come,"
he said, "and Graak is hungry. Let us find food and be gone."
As I followed him down the rough, scaly
trunk, I was struck by the contrast of the daylight sounds. I could hear only
the buzzing of insects, the silvery toned warbling of the awakened songbirds,
the occasional snort or grunt of some herbivore feeding, and the peculiar
squawking cries of the queer bird-reptiles called aurks.
Graak
and I had only traveled a short distance on the trail when he suddenly
stiffened and, looking upward, said, "Good foodl A
ptangl"
Following
the direction of his gaze, I saw a large, hairless slothlike creature hanging
upside down on a thick fern frond which bent downward beneath its weight. The
ptang was unconcernedly munching leaves without so
much as a glance in our direction.
The cave-ape bounded to the base of the tree
and quickly ascended, to climb out on the limb where the stupid creature was
feeding, paying no attention to the approaching danger.
Graak
swung by a prehensile foot and hand, and struck with his saw-edged club, laying
the side of the creature's head wide open at the first blow. It ceased its
feeding, but did not attempt either to fight or run away, though its powerful
legs were armed with long, hooked claws. Again Graak swung his club. The
animal's head hung limply downward and a shiver ran through its frame.
Replacing
his club in his belt string, the cave-ape drew his flint knife and pried the
hooked claws one by one from their grip on the limb. The ptang crashed downward
through the branches to the ground.
When
we had eaten our fill, the ape and I each cut off as large a portion of the
animal as could conveniently be carried, and started once more on the trail.
We
had not gone far when Graak pointed out a place where Taliboz and the princess
had stopped to eat, the night before. A little farther on the trail, we came to
the base of a large tree fern in whose leaf crown they had passed the night.
Evidently they were not more than an hour ahead of us.
As
we hurried forward and the scent grew stronger and stronger, the cave-ape
showed all the excitement of a hound on a fresh game trail—which it was, to his
mind.
Presently he stopped,
tensely alert, sniffing and listening;
"What is it?" I
asked in a whisper.
"A
marmelot follows them," replied Graak, pointing to the footprints in the
leaf mold.
Looking
down, I saw, sometimes between their tracks, sometimes obliterating part of
them, the spoor of a gigantic feline, so heavy that it sank to a depth of
nearly a foot with each step.
Then
came the scream of a woman in deadly terror, only a short distance ahead,
followed by the crashing of underbrush and a terrific rumbling growl which I
recognized only too well.
Graak instantly took to the trees, but I
unlimbered my club and knife and dashed forward.
Hurrying
as fast as I could in the soft leaf mold, dodging through fern-brakes and
tripping over creepers, I presently floundered out into a little glade where a
most fearsome sight met my eyes.
Rolling about on the ground, snapping, tearing and clawing at
everything that came within its reach, was a magnificent marmelot, apparently in its death throes.
I
had not taken three steps before the creature quivered, subsided, and lay
still.
Looking
about for the princess and her abductor, I was startled by a warning cry from
almost directly above me, "Zinlo! Behind you!"
It was the voice of Loralie.
Whirling,
I saw Taliboz standing behind the broad trunk of a tree fern. In his left hand
he held an object which I recognized as a clip for tork projectiles. Balanced
in his right hand with its base against his palm and its length parallel with
his fingers was one of the needle-like glass bullets, ready to throw. Even as I
looked, he hurled it straight for my face.
I
ducked my head just in time, heard the bullet strike a fern trunk behind me, and sprang forward. But he quickly pulled another
from the clip and I saw that I could not reach him in time to use my weapons;
nor could I, close as1 I was, again hope to avoid the throw by
dodging.
With
a grin of triumph on his features, he swung back his arm, poised it for a
moment to get his aim, then brought it swiftly
forward, his fingers pointing directly at my breast.
"Die, stripling!"
he grated between clenched teeth.
But
a strange thing happened. Instead of feeling the sting of the needle in my
breast, I saw him go limp and slump down in his tracks.
I learned the cause as I
bent over to examine him. The needle bullet which he had intended for my breast
had pierced one of his fingers instead. Rolling him over, I took his tork
ammunition belt and buckled it about my own waist. I picked up the clip which
he had dropped when he fell, and, closing the ejector, replaced it in the belt.
Then
I looked up in the direction from which the warning voice of Loralie had come
down to me. For a moment only I saw her beautiful face peering down at me
between the parted fronds of a leaf-crown. Then a huge hairy arm reached
downward, encircled her slender waist, and drew her backward. She cried out in
deadly fear as the parted fronds snapped back in place, hiding her from view.
I
caught a glimpse of Graak mounting one of the rope-like vines; beneath his left
arm he carried the drooping form of Loralie. Then they both disappeared into
the thick tangle of vegetation above.
"Stop,
Graak!" I called. "Come back, or I will slay you with my magic."
No answer.
I
leaped for the nearest fern trunk, intent on following, when suddenly, without
the slightest hint of warning, a long sinuous object
whipped through the air and coiled itself about me. With its deadly fangs
gleaming in gaping jaws quite close to my face, and cloven tongue darting forth
menacingly, the glistening beady eyes of a gigantic whistling serpent stared
hypnotically into mine.
Swiftly,
relentlessly, the mighty coils tightened about my body while the horrible head
moved rhythmically back and forth, just above my face. My club was caught
beneath the scaly folds of my assailant, but I managed to jerk my flint knife
free, and with this I struck at the swaying, silver-white throat. But the
covering was tougher than I had thought, and I only succeeded in chipping off a
few scales.
The muscular coils that encircled me grew
tighter. It seemed to me that my ribs must crack at any moment. My breathing was reduced to short, spasmodic gasps.
Then
I thought of the tork projectiles. With my flint knife I pried the ammunition
belt up from beneath an encircling coil. Quickly extracting a clip, I opened
the ejector, pressed the button, and a small, sharp needle popped out. I slid
it under the edge of a scale and pressed. Scarcely had I done so when the
crushing folds about me began to relax; the swaying head dropped limply
downward, and I tugged and wriggled until I was free.
Still
gasping for breath, I closed the safety catch of the clip and replaced it in my
belt. I noticed that it was marked in patoa: Tork
projectiles—deadly."
As
soon as I was able to breathe with reasonable normality once more, I climbed
the tallest tree fern in the vicinity, and from its lofty leaf-crown looked out
over the tree-tops in the hope of locating Graak and the princess. But although
I scanned the forest in every direction I could not catch sight of them.
Far
back toward the northeast, the mountains of the cave-apes were barely
discernible through the gray-blue mistiness that hung over the jungle. Toward
the southwest, and closer, was another mountain range—gray, forbidding peaks
much higher than those of the cave-apes.
As
he was, by nature, a cave dweller, I decided that Craak would eventually seek a
mountain home. Having disobeyed me, King of the Cave-Apes, he would not dare
return to the mountains of his tribe. I might very logically expect him to head
for the other mountains. When I had caught my last glimpse of him he actually
was starting toward the southwest. I decided to travel that way, zigzagging
across my plotted course in the hope that I might eventually pick up his trail.
Having
made my decision, I descended to the ground and set out toward the unknown
mountains.
I was in the middle of my second zigzag toward the south when I came across the trail of Graak. Dainty but
significant beside those of the cave-ape were the tiny footprints of Loralie.
As I followed the trail I twice saw the records of her attempts at escape—where
she had tried to run away, but had been caught.
Now
travel became far more difficult. My first warning of the changed terrain was
when I sank hip-deep into a sticky quagmire, only saving myself from complete
immersion in the soft mud by grasping a stout vine that hung across my path,
and swinging up into firmer ground. I noticed that fungi and lichens were
beginning to predominate.
Gradually
the tree fems and cycads were replaced by gigantic toadstools of variegated
forms and colors, and huge morels, some of which reared their cone-like heads
more than fifty feet in the air. Jointed reeds rattled like skeletons in the
breeze; lichens upholstered rotted stumps and fallen logs, and algae filled the
treacherous, stagnant pools that grew more numerous as I advanced,'making it
difficult to tell which was the water and which the land.
It
was comforting for me to know that the flight of Graak was being even more
retarded than mine. He had to test each bit of ground before treading on it,
while I had but to follow his footsteps.
Suddenly
I heard, only a short distance ahead of me, the angry roar of the cave-ape,
followed by a woman's scream of terror.
At first I thought Graak had sighted me, and
I dashed forward to meet him with club and knife ready. But before I had taken
a dozen steps I heard his voice raised in a howl of
pain, and soon he was alternately bellowing and snarling as if in intense
agony.
I
caught sight of Graak and the princess at the same time. The ape, his fierce
cries now reduced to mere whimpering, was on his back surrounded by a half
dozen of the strangest and most horrifying creatures I have ever seen.
Writhing,
squirming, extending, contracting, they had no set form, but could change
themselves instantly from limbless, egg-shaped bodies three feet long to the
semblance of snakes fifteen feet in length, or any of the intermediate lengths
between the two. They were clinging to the fallen cave-ape with grotesque,
three-cornered sucker mouths, and from the edges of some of them I could see
blood dripping.
Before
I could reach him, Graak's whimpering subsided, his struggles ceased, and I
knew that he was beyond help. His assailants, finding him quiescent, settled
down uniformly in the shape of extended ovoids about four feet in length, to
drain the rest of his blood.
From
a position of temporary safety, the princess looked down in horror. She was on
the umbrella-like top of a toadstool about fifteen feet in height, evidently
having been tossed there by Craak when he had been attacked, for there was no
way she could have reached that point unassisted. Climbing rapidly toward her
were two more of the hideous things, leaving slimy trails on the stem.
Bounding
forward, I swung my club at the nearest creature, expecting to cut it in two
with the sharp, saw-edge of my weapon. To my surprise and consternation, the
club failed to make the slightest impression, but bounced off as if it had
struck extremely springy rubber, and nearly flew from my grasp.
The
hideous head with its three-cornered suck mouth was instantly extended toward
me, and again I struck—this time from the side. Although the blow made no more
impression on the tough skin of the creature than before, it broke the hold of
the thing on the stem of the mushroom and sent it whirling and writhing a full
twenty feet away.
The other thing on the stem stretched out to
seize me, but
I dealt it a backhand blow which sent it squirming and wriggling in the opposite
direction.
A
quick glance around showed me that the surrounding marsh was literally alive
with these horrible creatures. Evidently excited by the sound of the
conflict—or possibly by the smell of blood—they erected ugly swaying heads to
investigate, then came crawling toward us, leaving slimy trails in their wake.
There
was only one thing for me to do in order to save the princess, or even to save
myself: I must find a way to get to the top of the toadstool with her. But this
was a good fifteen feet from the ground, and the marshy soil was not
particularly conducive to high jumping, as it clung to the feet with each step.
As I looked about for some means wherewith to accomplish my purpose the
ring of attackers closed in on me. Then came an inspiration. About twenty feet
from the toadstool on which the girl stood was a clump of huge, jointed
reedlike growths. Several of them, which reached to a height of more than forty
feet, bent slightly toward it.
I
managed to reach them just ahead of the advancing army of attackers and climbed
the largest one with an agility of which I had never even imagined myself
capable. One of the slimy things that sought my lifeblood instantly wound its
body around the reed and followed, then another and another,
until the stalk below me was covered with their snaky forms.
As I
climbed upward, the reed gradually bent over toward the top of the toadstool,
so that when I reached a height of a little over thirty feet, I was
directly above it. Swinging my legs free, I hung on for a moment with my hands,
then let go. As I alighted on the center of the toadstool cap, the reed shot
upward like a steel spring, hurling its slimy occupants far out across the
marsh as if they had been shot from a catapult.
No sooner had I alighted than there was a cry
of terror from Princess Loralie. Turning, I saw her crouching in fear beneath
the ugly head of one of our attackers, its neck arched and its three-cornered
sucking mouth, armed with thousands of razor-sharp cutting teeth, ready to
strike.
I
swung my club, knocking the thing to the ground, but no sooner had I done so
than another came up over the edge of the toadstool, quickly followed by two
more. Soon the entire rim became alive with the swaying, wriggling heads, and I
was kept busy every second of the time knocking them bac
to the ground.
"Give
me your club, Prince Zinlo," said Loralie after I had been at this
strenuous work for some time, "and let me help you. If we take turns with
rests between for each, we can last longer. The swamp dwellers are persistent,
and we are doomed, it seems—but let us fight while life lasts."
"I
am not tired," I insisted, rather breathlessly, but she came and seized
the club, making it necessary for me either to use force with her or surrender
it. I yielded, watching her to see if she could manage it. Despite her small
size she proved surprisingly strong.
But
she soon grew weary, and I took the club once more. It was a hopeless fight;
day was fast waning, and in the black, moonless darkness of Venus we would soon
be dragged down to meet the fate of the bloodless carcass that had once been
Graak, now staring sightlessly up into the leaden sky.
CHAPTER
VIII
I was
running around the rim of
the toadstool cap, knocking off the slimy things that sought to drink our
blood, and Princess Loralie was crouching fearfully in the center, when
suddenly I heard a crashing and splashing through the marsh behind me, accompanied
by queer noises that sounded much like a combination of a bleat and a bellow.
Glancing
back for a moment between gasps, I saw coming toward us an immense humpbacked
reptile sinking flank-deep in the watery ooze with each step as it crashed
through the reeds in its apparent endeavor to escape from some mortal enemy,
and uttering the queer cries of distress I had heard. I could see its long
snakelike neck curved back as, with its small jaws it would jerk the swamp
creatures first from one side then the other.
Coincident
with the appearance of this huge reptile, the heads of the swamp dwellers
stopped reappearing above the edge of our toadstool cap. They had abandoned
their attack on us in favor of the larger quarry.
Thicker
and thicker they swarmed around the great dinosaur. For every blood-hungry
thing the giant lizard tossed in the air, at least ten squirmed up to fasten
their sucker mouths on its heaving sides, until the reptile's back resembled
the wave-tossed bottom of a capsized ship covered with immense barnacles.
Gradually
the speed of the great beast slowed down. It stopped. Then its struggles grew
weaker, and the doomed saurian uttered a final cry and sank down in the ooze.
So
absorbed had I been in this titanic battle that I had momentarily forgotten our
own danger.
"Our
enemies have momentarily forgotten us," I said then. "Shall we make a
dash for liberty?"
"It is our only
chance," she replied.
Swinging
over the edge of the toadstool, I dropped to the ground. Loralie swung her
small, athletic body over the edge as I had done, and dropped into my waiting
arms.
As I
stood there, ankle deep in the ooze with that shapely young form close to me, I
suddenly forgot our danger—forgot everything except that she lay there in my
arms, her head thrown back, glorious dark eyes that were pools of lambent flame
looking up into mine. But when,-intoxicated with her nearness, I would have
crushed her to me, she suddenly twisted free from my
arms and ran, leaping lightly as a startled fawn in the direction of the
mountains to the southwest.
Club
in hand I followed her as closely as I could, meanwhile keeping a sharp
lookout for swamp dwellers. But they were too busy feasting.
As
we approached the foothills the ground became drier and firmer, and the
character of the vegetation once more underwent a gradual change; cycads and
low-growing conifers were mostly in evidence. Soon we were climbing steep
hillsides, with the ground continually becoming more rugged and the vegetation
more sparse.
During
our progress Loralie had not addressed a word to me, or noticed my presence in
any way. I felt I must have offended her by holding her over-long in my arms.
Yet for that fleeting moment I would have sworn I had seen in her starry eyes
the reflection of emotions akin to my own, and quite unlike her unnatural
aversion to me in the caves of the ape.
When we arrived in a small isolated copse of
water fems, I decided it was time to halt for rest and refreshment.
"Here are food and
drink," I said. "Let us stop for a while."
Without
answering, she sank down wearily on a mound of soft moss and turning, buried
her face in her arms. In a moment she began weeping softly.
I
broke off a branch of water fern and knelt beside her, trying to get her to sit
up.
"Don't touch me!"
she wailed. "Go away."
"Oh,
very well," I snapped, and ate and drank by myself—without much appetite.
Then, I set about equipping myself with more efficient weapons.
I
soon fashioned a bow, which I strung with a piece of the tough cord I had
brought with me. Some reeds which
I
had gathered en route I made into arrows by tipping them with slivers of stone bound in place
with the cord. I bound bits of fern leaf in place of feathers. A quiver I made
from ptang-hide which was wrapped around the piece of meat I had brought with
me.
Several
hours elasped in these pursuits, and my too-temperamental companion had in the
interval sobbed herself to sleep.
I
had scarcely finished cooking some ptang. meat when I
saw the princess stir and open her eyes. For a moment she seemed startled by
the strangeness of her surroundings. Then she sat up, and catching the
appetizing scent of my roasting meat, looked hungrily toward it—then resolutely
away.
"The
Prince of Olba," I said, "would be greatly honored if the Princess of
Tyrhana would join him at dinner. The royal butler is about to serve."
Despite
her attempt at severity, I saw a slight smile play around the corners of her
adorable little mouth. Then she turned her head away once more.
Placing
my roast on some broad, clean leaves which I had spread over the moss for the
purpose, I walked over to where she sat.
"I
say, young lady," I remarked severely. "Don't you think you have
carried this foolish perversity of yours about far enough? I can't imagine what
makes you act like a badly spoiled child. I've a notion to spank you."
She
tried to maintain her dignity, but I saw her lips quivering.
"Forgive
me," I said. "Perhaps it is I who am wrong. If I have done anything
to hurt your feelings, I'm sincerely sorry. I am not desirous of forcing my
attentions on you, but I can't leave you alone in this wilderness. You make it
hard, extremely hard for me to be of service to you."
She looked up at me, her beautiful eyes
brimming—tears clinging to the long dark lashes. "You are so land, and so
brave. I wish those other things were not true."
"What
other things?'' I asked in surprise, sitting down beside her. "Has
someone been talking about me?"
"I
cannot betray those who have reposed confidence in me," she said,
"nor can I doubt the testimony of many witnesses. Yet it does not seem
possible."
"I'm
sure I don't understand what you are driving at. Pray tell me of what monstrous
crime I am accused, and permit me at least a chance to defend my
character."
"You
were accused . . . Oh, I cannot say itl" She looked at me reproachfully,
then turned her head away and swallowed hard to keep from crying.
"It
must have been horrible. Won't you tell me what it was?"
"Of making love to
that Chixa," she faltered.
The
evidence might seem to point that way, I realized,
particularly if it were distorted by someone bent on maligning my character. I
quickly told her how I had won the she-ape's weapons and my freedom. "Do
you not believe me?" I demanded
at last.
"On
this matter I believe you," she answered with some relief, "but there
is still that other affair."
"What other affair?"
I asked.
"Your affair with the young sister of Taliboz. Why did you betray that trusting
child—betray her and run away—so that her brother must needs
come after you to bring you back at the point of a tork? It was
dastardly—cowardly. I denied it—fought against believing it, but there were so
many witnesses I was at last convinced."
"If
Taliboz has a sister, I do not know it, nor have I ever seen her. This story
was fabricated from whole cloth. There is not even seeming evidence in this
case as there was with Chixa."
"But Taliboz himself told me," she
insisted, "and five of his men substantiated his story at various times. I
wanted to disbelieve this thing, but what could I do?"
"You
were convinced of a monstrous falsehood, for which Taliboz will one' day answer,
as he will for his numerous other crimes—if he has not already answered, back
there in the fern forest, to some jungle creature. I swear to you that if
Taliboz has a sister I do not even know of her existence."
"It
seems strange," she answered, "that the sister of an illustrious
noble of Olba should be unknown to the Crown Prince. Surely she must have been
much at court."
"Perhaps
she was. Never having been there myself, I cannot say."
She
looked at me in amazement—unbelief so clearly written on her features that I
saw that I had gone too far. I must either tell all now, or have nothing
believed.
"In
order that you may understand this singular statement," I said, "I
am going to tell you who I really am."
"No
doubt you are a reincarnation of the god Thorth. Pray do not weary me further
with lies."
"The
story I am going to tell," I answered, "will tax your credulity to
the uttermost, yet I hope some day to be able to prove it to you. I am not of
Olba, nor even of this planet."
I
explained to her, as best I could, how I had been transported from Mars to
Earth and thence to Venus—Zarovia. To my surprise, she seemed not only
credulous, but actually well versed on the subject.
"You
seem to know more about these phenomena than most scientists," I said.
"There
is a reason for my intense interest in the subject," she replied. "My
uncle Bovard is one of the greatest scientists on all Zarovia. There is but one
who is considered greater than he."
"Vom Vangair
"Yes, but how did you
know?"
"Vorn Vangal," I
answered, "is Dr. Morgan's Zarovian ally, the man who made it possible for
me to come to this planet."
"Dr.
Morgan? What an uncivilized sound the name hasl Vom Vangal I know well."
"Then you believe my
story?" I asked.
"Implicitly." And she smiled thrillingly at me.
"And you know Taliboz
was lying?"
"Of course. Are you going to sit there and question me all day, or will you have
the royal butler serve dinner? I am famished."
The
roast had grown cold but was nonetheless delicious. I carved as best I could
with my flint knife, and we made out very well, finishing up with the contents
of a few spore pods, washed down with drafts of cold water from the fronds of
the water fern.
"And
now," I said, when we had finished dinner, "we must look about for a
place of shelter from the night-moving meat-eaters."
There
were many caverns in the rocky hillsides, but the mouths were too large or too
numerous to be barricaded. And an unbarricaded cave in the Zarovian wilderness
would prove to be a trap.
We
traveled far before we found a cave that seemed suited to our purpose. Without
taking time to explore its interior— for I knew that the sudden darkness would
soon be upon us— I made haste to collect heavy rocks for the doorway, delegating
Loralie, meanwhile, to gether sticks for fuel which I intended to keep in the
cave as a fiery defense against possible attackers.
Darkness caught us with our labors
unfinished, and I kindled a small fire just outside the cave mouth that we
might complete our work by its fight.
I was just rolling up the great stone which
was to finish my barricade when the hideous roar of a marmelot sounded near by.
It was taken up, a moment later, by others of its kind, until the echoing hills
resounded with the thunderous cries of these fierce beasts.
"Quick!" I called
to Loralie. "Into the cave with you!"
She
started in, then backed out in terror. "There's
something in there now, and it's coming out after us."
Then,
as the frightened girl cowered against me, I heard a hoarse, booming croak from
the cave and saw two glowing, menacing eyes moving toward us from the darkness
of the interior.
CHAPTER
IX
Standing within the ring of light cast by our small fire,
with Loralie crouching fearfully at my feet, I fitted an arrow to my bowstring.
I drew it back to the head, took careful aim between the two glowing eyes that
were advancing from the dark interior of the cave, and let fly.
Immediately
after the twang of the bow there came a deep bellow of rage from the interior
of the cave.
As I
fitted a second arrow in place, there was a terrific roar behind me. Turning, I
beheld the gleaming eyes of a marmelot not more than fifty feet distant. I let
fly, and the arrow struck the huge feline just as the enraged cave creature
came forth.
Prepared
as I was for the appearance of one of the fierce creatures of the Zarovian
jungle, a chill of horror ran down my spine when the grotesque tenant of the
cave waddled out into the light.
It
was obviously a reptile—not an animal as I had supposed. Although its entire
length was not more than six feet, fully two-thirds of that length was
mouth—enormous jaws four feet long and a yard across, armed with row upon row
of sharp, back-curved teeth. The other third was a round sack, or pouch,
attached to the back of the head.
It walked on two short, thick legs growing
from beneath its ears, each armed with three sharp talons. There were no
forelegs. Both head and body bristled with a profusion of sharp spines like
those of a horned toad.
"A krogerl" cried
Loralie. "We are lost!"
As
the thing charged toward us with enormous jaws distended, I heard the marmolet
bounding through the brush from the opposite direction.
"Come,"
I cried, taking the girl's hand. Together we leaped across the fire and into
the shadow of the bushes beyond. Scarcely had we gained this place of temporary
safety ere the two formidable creatures, beast and reptile, met on the spot
where we had been standing.
The
marmelot, apparently surprised at being confronted by this strange anomaly,
stopped, spat, and arched its back like a startled cat. But the kroger,
undaunted at sight of the huge king of the jungles, which was easily twice its
size, charged on. With a snap of its immense jaws, the reptile took in
at one bite the head and neck of the mighty carnivore.
Like
a cat caught in a salmon tin, the marmelot alternately shook
its head, clawed at the scaly throat, or belly—I know not which to call it—and
ran blindly about. Presently it rolled over on its back, and drawing the round
body of the kroger toward it with its two front legs, literally scratched it to
ribbons with its terrible hind claws. Yet the immense jaws held— firmly,
inexorably; in fact, they seemed to be clamping down tighter and tighter all
the time, sinking more deeply into the flesh of the great feline with every
move it made.
The
struggles of the combatants presently grew weaker, but as the sounds of battle
died down the noises in the fern brakes around us grew closer and more
alarming. Evidently attracted by the sounds of battle or the smell of blood,
the denizens of the hills drew nearer and nearer in an ever-narrowing circle.
The weird howling of the awoos, mingled with the grisly laughter of the hahoes
and the cries of other night-roving beasts, produced a most uncanny effect.
If
we did not find shelter soon, our bodies would go to appease the flesh-hunger
of one or another of these hunters.
Warning
Loralie to keep out of sight in the bushes, I dashed over to the fire, seized a
burning brand and hurled it into the cave. As nothing charged out after me, I
peered in. By the flickering light of the burning stick I could see that the
cave was small and apparently empty, except for a pile of dry fern fronds
against the back wall.
Entering,
I picked up the torch and investigated this. It proved to be a nest about four
feet across, in the center of which was a round egg, covered with a membranous
shell mottled green and yellow—the same color as the outer scales of the
kroger.
Hurrying
out of the cave once more, I softly called to my companion. "Carry the
fuel into the cave at once, while I build our barricade."
While
we both worked in frenzied haste, the sounds in the surrounding darkness grew
ominously closer. The struggles of the marmelot and kroger had ceased
altogether, and our fire was burning low.
Perspiring
from every pore with my strenuous labor, I presently got the cave mouth closed
except for a narrow hole on one side barely large enough to admit the body of a
man.
Loralie had meanwhile carried all of the fuel
into the cave and was waiting for me in its dark interior.
Seizing a flaming faggot from the remains of
the fire, I squeezed through the narrow opening, then
lifted into place the rock I had reserved for the purpose while the princess
held the torch for me. Scarcely had I done this ere a half dozen lean gray
forms bounded into the glow that was shed by the last few coals of our fire and
began tearing at the two mighty carcasses which were locked in a death embrace
beside it.
As I
watched through the interstices between the rocks, I saw that these were awoos.
The more cowardly hahoes soon joined them, and there ensued a fierce medley of
growling, snapping and snarling as the beasts fought over their bloody feast.
Because
there was no way of ventilating our cave, I disliked building a fire inside;
but I felt constrained to do so when a huge hahoe came sniffing up to our rock
barrier, then threw back its head and gave vent to the horrid cry which gives
it its name. I piled a few faggots against the barricade and lighted them with
the flaming brand I still held. It was well I did so, for the cry of the first
brute quickly brought a half dozen others and they
began sniffing and scratching at the loosely piled rocks.
The
smoke nearly strangled us at first, and got in our eyes, making tears stream
down our cheeks. But as it billowed out between the crevices in the barrier
the besieging beasts sneezed and backed away.
When
the moisture had burned out of the fuel it smoked less, and I found that by
feeding the fire gradually I could cut its smoking down to a minimum which,
though still disagreeable, was bearable.
Glancing
across the fire at my companion, I was about to speak to her when I saw that, in
spite of her fear, exhaustion had claimed her, and she slept. She lay on her
side, her tousled head pillowed on one white arm, her seductive curves outlined
in the flickering firelight against the smoky background of the cave's
interior.
Despite
the tremendous din outside the cave, I presently felt myself growing drowsy.
Twice I caught myself wearily nodding, only being able to rouse with an effort
at thought of what might happen if our watch fire should go out.
Taking a three-foot length of fern frond, I
thrust one end into the fire and laid my hand over the other. At the rate these
fronds burned I should catch ten minutes or more of sleep before the flames
should reach my hand and awaken me.
I awakened with a start. Daylight was
streaming through the crevices in our rock barrier. The fire had ceased to
smolder, and the frond on which I had counted to awaken me had gone out more
than a foot from my hand. Loralie was still sleeping quietly across from me.
Near
the dead embers of our outdoor fire lay the bones of the marmelot and the
kroger, picked clean. The vegetation was torn, trampled and spotted with blood,
but of the flesh-eaters that had threatened us the night before I saw no other
sign.
Only a short distance away I saw a large
clump of water ferns, and toward this I made my way in quest of food and drink.
I found these useful shrubs heavily laden with spore pods and, after a
refreshing drink, pulled up a number of fronds to take back with me.
As I
was walking back toward the cave I caught sight of a small animal browsing on
the steep hillside above me. ..Silently putting down my water-filled fronds, I
extracted bow and arrow from my quiver, took careful aim at the animal, and
loosed a shaft. Struck just behind the shoulder and pierced clear through, it
gave a piteous bleat, sank to its knees, then rolled over and came tumbling down the hillside to fall dead at my feet.
It
was a wild frella, one of the hairless, sheeplike creatures which are such
highly prized food animals on Venus. I had already tasted the flesh of the
domestic variety in the Black Tower.
After
returning to the cave mouth with the spoils of my brief excursion, I kindled a
new fire on the dead embers of the old one outside, and soon the appetizing
aroma of grilling frella steak filled the morning air.
Stepping into the semidarkness of the
interior I saw that Loralie was already awake and intently watching the large
nest in the rear. "I heard something move back there," she whispered,
"and I'm afraid."
Club
in hand, I advanced toward the nest. As I did so I heard a
peculiar scratching sound which seemed to come from the center where the round
egg lay. Yet I could detect no sign of any movement.
Reassured
by my presence, the princess came up beside me and peered into the nest.
"What can it be?"
Before
I could reply, her question was answered from the nest itself. The egg split
open and a tiny kroger—like the one slain by the marmelot in every respect
except size-rolled out, got unsteadily to its feet, and blinked inquiringly up
at us, cocking its head to one side.
I
swung my club aloft, bent on quickly dispatching this miniature monstrosity,
but the princess caught my arm. "Don't you dare hurt that poor little thing."
The
kroger toddled toward her, balanced itself on the edge of the nest, and uttered
a rasping, mournful croak.
"The
darling!" exclaimed Loralie. "I believe it likes me. Isn't it
cute?"
"Cute! It's hideous. I
could choke it—if it had a throat."
"Brute! How could you do such a thing?"
"I'm
brute enough to be thoroughly hungry," I answered, "and the royal
butler is about to serve breakfast. Will you join me or stay here and play with
this walking nightmare?"
She
held out her hand to the kroger, which instantly opened its enormous mouth to
full capacity, and gave vent to a series of high-pitched croaks. "Poor
little orphan, it's hungry. I couldn't think of eating
a morsel without feeding it. Help it to get down, won't you?"
I
extended the flat of my club, intending to shove it beneath the creature's
belly, or throat, whichever it might be, and lift it down to the floor. But it
sidled away from the weapon—then hopped down by itself and toddled toward the
princess. With a little scream of alarm she turned and darted out of the cave,
the kroger waddling after her.
I squeezed through the opening as quickly as
I could, getting out just in time to see her snatch one of the deliciously
grilled frella steaks which I had prepared and toss it into the cavernous maw
of the young reptile. It instantly clamped its jaws shut, and dropping the
grayish film of its eyelids, settled down beside the princess with its chin
between its feet to sleep.
"I told you the little thing was
hungry," she said as we sat down to breakfast.
When
we had eaten, Loralie insisted that I make her a bow, arrows and quiver. After
I had cut a number of reeds into the correct length for arrows I set her to
feathering the shafts with bits of fern leaf while I manufactured a number of
crude sharp flint slivers for the heads.
After
I had a sufficient quantity of these rough tips made, I showed her how to bind
them to the shafts, while I scraped, dried, and rubbed with hot fat a section
of frella hide for the quiver. While it was hanging by the fire I made a bow.
This
work occupied several hours, during which time the kfoger slept contentedly
beside the princess. When everything was completed and we were ready to resume
our journey, the hideous baby reptile promptly woke up and followed us.
As
we did not care to run the risk of another attack by the slimy swamp dwellers
we planned to follow the mountain range which gradually curved toward the
southeast, thus avoiding the marsh and eventually coming out on the coast of
the Ropok Ocean. Here we might meet the rescue party of Prince Gadrimel, or
failing in this, could try to follow the coast northward to Adonijar.
After
about five hours of travel, during which time the princess had been practicing
with her new weapons and keeping me busy retrieving arrows, we decided to stop
in a small clump of water ferns for food and rest. I had just un-slung the
haunch of frella meat which I carried and hung it on a fern frond so the young
kroger couldn't get it, preparatory to building a fire, when I heard a
terrific roar come from over the brow of the hill, followed by the shouting of
men, the crashing of underbrush, and intermittent snarls and growls.
I hurried to the hilltop to investigate, the
princess running after me and the kroger waddling behind her as fast as its short
legs would carry it.
Taking
cover behind the bushy fronds of a cycad, I peered down at the scene of strife
below. A party of men, about fifty in number, was engaged in a battle with an
enormous ramph. The huge, hairless, bear-like creature reared up on its hind
feet from time to time, towering above the men around it like a giant among
pygmies.
Half
a dozen of the men already lay motionless on the ground, yet the others,
swarming about the fierce beast, seemed absolutely fearless. They were armed
with knives and long, straight-bladed, two-edged swords, and were naked except
for their sword-belts, which appeared to be of metal links, and their gleaming,
conical helmets or casques.
They
were a white-skinned race—too white, I thought, as if they spent nearly all
their time indoors. And they wore no beards—an unusual thing on Zarovia, where
a beard, cut off square below the chin, was a mark of fashionable manhood.
As I
watched, a man darted in to deliver a thrust with his sword. Before he could do
so the ramph whipped "out with a huge paw and stretched him, crushed and
still, on the ground a full twenty feet away. Another man who succeeded in
pricking the creature beneath the right shoulder met a like fate.
Instinctively
I reached for bow and arrow, but remembered that at that range an arrow could
not possibly do more than add to the fury of the beast. Then a scheme came to
my mind which I instantly put into execution. Removing an ammunition clip
marked Tork Projectiles,
Deadly, from
the belt I had. taken from Taliboz, I extracted one of
the needlelike missiles and with a bit of cord, bound it to the head of my
arrow.
After
replacing the clip in my belt, I took careful aim and released the shaft. It
struck the ramph in the shoulder and the deadly virus acted almost instantly;
in a few seconds it keeled over, to fight no more.
Apparently
mystified at what had killed the great beast, the men clustered curiously-about
the fallen brute, examining it intently. One pulled the arrow from its shoulder
and was instantly surrounded by a group of his comrades, all eager to see and
handle it.
"Shall
we make ourselves known to them?" I asked the princess, who was peering
over my shoulder.
"As
you will," she replied. "They seem to be soldiers of a civilized
nation, but one I do not recognize. No .doubt they will be glad to help us when
they know who we are."
I
stepped from behind the cycad and shouted the universal Zarovian word for
peace—"Dual"
The
entire armed band whirled toward me, and I was horrified at the unhuman quality
of their gaze—as if they were more, or less, than men.
CHAPTER
X
The
leader of the hunters called
out "Dua" and Princess Loralie stepped from her hiding place to my
side. Together we walked toward them.
"I
am Pangar," said their leader, according us the royal salute in deference
to the scarlet we wore. He himself, although not clothed, had a purple band on
his metallic helmet and touches of purple on his accouterments which marked
him as a member of the nobility.
"I
am Zinlo of Olba," I replied, acknowledging his salute, "and this is
the Torrogina Loralie of Tyrhana."
"In
the name of my royal master, Tandor of Doravia, I bid Your Highness
welcome," he said. "Will you accompany me to the palace and permit my
emperor the pleasure of greeting you in person?"
"We'll be
delighted."
"Your
indulgence for a moment, then, while I see if any of my men can be
salvaged."
"Salvagedl"
I was struck by the peculiarity of the term when applied to men. It brought
home to me that there was something extremely odd about these people. The
motions of many of them seemed to be quite stiff and awkward-mechanical, that
was it—like the motions of marionettes.
Their
armor—accouterments and weapons, too—were not made of ordinary metal, as I had
first thought, but were constructed from a material which greatly resembled
glass. The blades of the swords and daggers were quite transparent. The hilts
resembled colored glass.
The
helmets were also transparent, except for the colored band at the base of each
denoting the status of the wearer. The chain belts and shoulder straps were of
the same material, but lined with ramph leather, evidently to prevent their
contact with the body.
Pangar
bent over one of the fallen men. "Think you can make it?" he asked.
The
stricken one spoke weakly. "Power unit is low. Was shorted for a time, but
I have it back in place now. If someone can spare some power . . ."
"Who can spare
power?" asked Pangar.
A man stepped up. "I
can spare five xads."
"Good."
From a hook on his belt, Pangar took two coiled tubes that resembled insulated
wires with metal sockets at each end. He inserted an end of each wire in each
ear of the fallen man and handed the other two ends to the man standing. The
latter instantly inserted an end in each ear, meanwhile watching an indicator
which was strapped to his wrist. Presently he jerked a tube from one ear, then
the other. The fallen man arose, apparently restored to strength, and returned the wires to Pangar.
I
noticed the next man. His entire breast had been torn away by the claws of the
ramph. There was a set expression on his features, as of death or deep hypnotic
sleep. But around the jagged wound was no sign of blood. The flesh, if it was
flesh, was a peculiar grayish-red shade. And where the viscera would have been
exposed in a normal human being, I saw a conglomeration of coils, tubes, wheels
and wires, tangled and broken.
Pangar
passed him by with but a single glance. "No use to try to save
this one."
He
rapidly examined the other fallen men. Two were picked up and slung over the
shoulders of comrades. The rest were stripped of their weapons and
helmets and left lying on the ground. A half dozen
men, using their keen knives, had already skinned the ramph. It seemed that
they wanted the hide only, not the flesh, for the great red carcass was left
lying near the broken figures of the fallen men when we went.
Men
or machines—which? I pondered the matter as Lor-alie and I walked beside the
courteous and seemingly human Pangar, while the kroger waddled at our heels.
After
a walk of about two hours we reached the summit of the mountain range and
halted there for a few moments of rest while Pangar pointed with pride to the
various features of the fertile valley of Doravia which was spread before us.
It was oval in form, about twenty-five miles in length, tapering down to points
at both ends where the inclosing mountain ranges ran together.
At the northwestern end of the valley a tremendous waterfall, over a mile in height and fully a half mile in width, tumbled into a spray-veiled lake. From this flowed a
river that wound through the center of the valley, to emerge at the southeast
end. According to Pangar, it emptied into the Ropok.
At
each side of the falls a conical, hive-shaped structure of immense size towered
for some distance above the upper water level. These two enormous buildings
were connected by an arched span that was fully a half mile above the lower
water level. Their bases were hidden by the mists that arose from the bottom of
the cataract.
The
banks of the river, as it wound through the valley, were dotted at regular
intervals by smaller twin towers of similar construction. The surfaces of all
these buildings glistened with mirrorlike brightness.
In
the very center of the valley, on an island of considerable size around which
the river flowed in two nearly equally divided streams, was the largest
structure of all. Cone-shaped like the others, but much larger than any of
them, it reared its pointed, gleaming top to a height of fully two miles.
"The
imperial palace of Tandor of Doravia," explained Pangar as he saw me
looking at it. "A wonderful building. We will be
there in a short time now."
"But
it's fully five kants"
from here," I said.
Then I noticed something which had previously escaped my observation. A thin
cable stretching beside a long narrow platform a short distance below us
extended out toward the tower, though it soon dwindled into invisibility. It
was composed of the same peculiar glistening material.
*Zarovian unit of lineal
measurement. About two-thirds of an earth mile. |
"I have signaled for a car," said
Pangar. "It will be here soon."
As I watched, a tiny gleaming speck became
visible far out over the valley. Its apparent size grew larger with amazing
rapidity, and in a few seconds I saw that it was a long, octagonal vehicle,
pointed at each end, and constructed of the shimmering, transparent material.
It
came to a stop beside the narrow landing platform without any perceptible jar
or sound, and we all hurried down to meet it. When we reached the platform I
found that round doors, hinged above, had been thrown open along the entire
length of the vehicle.
Into
one of these the princess and I were ushered by Pangar. The small kroger had
kept close at our heels. We had no more than taken the comfortable springy
seats when the doors clamped shut; the kroger was left alone on the platform,
and we never saw it again—to my relief. The car then started smoothly out over
the valley. In a moment it was speeding so rapidly that the landscape, though
far below us, became a mere blur.
It
seemed that only a few seconds elasped before the car slowed down once more and
we were entering an octagonal opening in the enormous central tower I had
previously noticed. Before we entered I had a brief view of hundreds of other
similar openings in the tower from which slender, transparent cables radiated
in all directions.
The
door snapped open, and as we stepped out on the landing floor Pangar said,
"I will conduct you immediately to our Torrogo, as he wishes to greet you
in person."
"How do you know
that?" I asked, puzzled.
"His
majesty instantly communicates his wishes by thought-transference to any of his
subjects."
"Then
you communicate with each other here by telepathy?"
"Not
with each other," he replied, "except through our Torrogo or a member
of the Committee of Twelve—kings who are thought-censors for the emperor. If I
wish to communicate with a distant comrade, I send my thought to the member of
the committee whose duty it is to watch over my mind. He receives the message
and, if he approves, transfers it to my comrade or to the Torrogo."
As
he talked, Pangar led us through a maze of hallways, the decorated floors,
walls and ceilings of which were all of the same glasslike substance, but
opalescent, so that, with light coming from all directions, we moved without
casting shadows. It gave me a queer sense of unreality—as if I were moving in a
dream from which I should presently awaken.
But
when we were suddenly ushered into a huge and magnificent throne room, the many
octagonal doors of which were guarded by warriors with drawn swords, the
ceiling of which was fully a mile above our heads reaching to the very peak of
the hive-shaped building, and my eyes beheld for the first time the grandeur of
the Imperial Court of Doravia, I felt positive that only in a dream could such
splendor have existence. I pinched myself repeatedly to make sure that I was
awake.
My
illusion of unreality, however, was instantly dispelled as we were led before
the throne. Seated on its scarlet cushions was a powerful and commanding figure
of a man. His high forehead and heavy eyebrows, joined at the center, reminded
me of Dr. Morgan,- but there the resemblance ceased.
The
nose was Grecian rather than Roman in type, and the clean-cut features had the
pale beauty of chiseled marble. It was a face which showed remarkable
intellectual power and, at the same time, an utter lack of all sentiment or
human sympathy. Although every other man belonging to this strange race was
beardless, the ruling monarch wore, at the end of his chin, a narrow,
sickle-shaped beard which curved outward and upward, ending in a sharp point.
Flanking
each side of the throne was a row of six lesser thrones, on each of which sat a
scarlet-decked individual whose insignia proclaimed the rank of rogo, or king.
These rogos, I judged, must comprise the Committee of Twelve referred to by
Pangar. On still lower thrones sat the purple-decked nobles of the land, while
lining the walls on either side stood the blue-decked plebeians. Beyond these,
on the outskirts of the throne, as it were, were massed a few of the
gray-decked slaves.
Tandor
stood up as we were brought before his throne—a deference due
visiting royalty—and smiled, his black eyes boring into mine as we exchanged
salutations. Although his smile was friendly, there was something about the
look of his eyes which was not quite human. They appeared snakelike, with a
sinister, hypnotic quality that was far from reassuring.
"You
find me in the midst of my multifarious court duties," said Tandor, still
smiling, "but I shall terminate them as soon as possible. Meanwhile,
permit me to offer you rest and refreshment. Pangar will show you to the
quarters provided for your entertainment. I shall join you presently."
When
we were outside the throne room, Pangar issued instructions to a page, who
hurried away, to meet us again down the corridor with a girl who wore the
scarlet insignia of royalty, followed by the others whose purple ornaments
procalimed them daughters of the nobility. The six girls were shapely and quite
pretty, but their mistress was beautiful. With a superb figure, glossy black
hair and big black eyes, half veiled with long dark lashes, she rivaled the
beauty of Loralie herself.
Yet,
on comparing the two I was struck by a marked
contrast between them. While the Princess of Tyrhana was the spiritual type of
beauty, her every lineament suggesting purity and strength of character, this
royal girl of Doravia appeared volumptuous, sensuous and apparently with great
strength of purpose—like an exalted odalisque, or perhaps a fallen houri.
According us the royal salute, to which we
resonded in kind, she spoke softly with a low musical voice that, while it
betokened culture and refinement, yet had about it a certain husky undertone
which was puzzling. Her black eyes, too, I thought
had something of that reptilian quality which had shone forth from the orbs of
Tandor.
"I
am Xunia of Doravia," she said. "It is the wish of my brother,
Torrogo Tandor, that Loralie of Tyrhana be entertained
in my apartments until such time as suitable quarters can be prepared for
her."
She
held out her hand to Loralie, who took it without hesitation, and the two moved
off down a transverse corridor followed by the six handmaidens. Pangar then
conducted me to a luxurious suite, whose glasslike furniture was upholstered
with chlorophyl green ramph hide tanned to a softness that was almost velvety.
After a bath and a shave I felt greatly refreshed. "His majesty is now ready to
receive you in his private dining room," Pangar then told me.
A
short walk down the corridor brought me to a doorway, octagonal in form, before
which two guards stood, sword in hand. At a sign from Pangar they drew back two
scarlet curtains, and I entered the room. As the curtains dropped into place
behind me I beheld my royal host seated at an octagonal-topped table of
translucent scarlet material in a high-backed
golden charr upholstered with ramph hide, which was also stained a brilliant
scarlet. He arose as I entered and tendered me the royal salute, which I
returned. Then 1 took a chair at his right which an unobtrusive
servant placed for me.
"I
trust that you will pardon the slimness and coarseness of the fare which I am
about to place before you," said Tandor after I had taken my seat,
"but, with the exception of the slaves, we of Doravia do not eat or drink
as you do in the outer world."
A slave set a crystal bowl before each of us. Mine was filled with steaming kova, but
that which was placed before the Torrogo contained a heavier liquid which
seemed to fume rather than to steam. It had an acrid smell which reminded me of
the odor of a corrosive acid.
"May
your years be as many as the stars," pledged Tandor as he raised his bowl
to his hps.
"And may yours be as numerous as the
rain drops that fall on all Zarovia," I replied, tossing off a draught of
kova.
"Your arrival, O Prince," said
Tandor, setting down his bowl, "was timed most opportunely, as you will
realize from what I am about to relate to you. For the past two thousand years
I have been planning a great experiment—one which if successful will
revolutionize the lives both of my kind and yours."
"That is indeed interesting," I
replied as a platter of chopped mushrooms and grilled
ramph steak was set before me. "But—two thousand years?"
A
disk-shaped vessel, black in color, was set before Tandor. Coiled about the
handles on each side of the vessel were two insulated wires with electrodes on
the ends. Uncoiling them, he inserted an electrode in each ear.
"I
was born five thousand years ago in your country of Olba," he said,
"the second son of the Torrogo. I did not covet the throne, preferring
scientific research in chemistry, physics and psychology. When I had learned
everything the greatest scientists of my time could teach me about these
subjects, I began to combine my knowledge of the three with a view to realizing a dream of mine which is perhaps the universal dream
of mankind—immortality.
"As
I look back on my earlier efforts I realize how exceedingly crude they were,
but after countless experiments and untiring efforts, they worked. ... No doubt you have noticed the great
difference between yourself and my people-between my sister Xunia and Princess
Loralie."
"I saw the chest of one of your men,
which had been torn open by a ramph," I replied, "and he was
evidently no ordinary human being. I also heard talk of depleted power units,
and I have noticed that you drink a beverage which smells and looks like fuming
acid and that your food is evidently transmitted to you in the form of fluid
power."
"In
other words," said Tandor, "you have deduced that we are a race of
automatons—machine men. You are right, but I do not believe that there exists
anywhere else on any world a race of man-created beings with souls. Nearly five
thousand years have elapsed since I cast off forever the frail shell with which
nature endowed me to take up my existence in a more enduring body of my own
creation.
"You
are of course familiar with the phenomena of personality exchange and
telekinesis. You are aware that two men can permanently or temporarily exchange
their physical bodies.
"My
problem, then, was to construct a duplicate material body into which my
personality could enter, and which would respond to the direction of my will by
amplifying the power of telekinesis. The first body which I succeeded in so
entering collapsed because of faulty construction, and I barely got back to my
own body in time to save it from dissolution and myself from being projected
into the great unknown. But I made many others, and when they were at last
perfected, I published my discovery in the Empire of Olba.
"My
father had been received into the mercy of Thorth in the meantime, and my
brother had succeeded him to the throne. I called on him to join me in
immortality, and offered to make every person in the empire an immortal. To my
great surprise and disappointment, my offer not only met with rebuff, but a
systematized persecution against me and my followers was begun by the more
religious of the Thor-thans.*
"Influenced by the religious leaders, my brother presently
'Followers of the prophet Thorth.
ordered the
banishment of myself and my followers, who remained faithful to me. With less
than a thousand of these I came to these shores and subsequent explorations
revealed this valley."
I murmured my astonishment at
all this.
"The
only member of my family to accompany me," he went on, "was my
sister, Xunia, who had been in sympathy with my plans from the first. As
rapidly as I could, I prepared duplicate bodies for my followers, it being
necessary to give each body the outward semblance of the body and brain which
was to be quitted, else the personality would not enter it.
"I
have always kept many bodies in reserve for myself and for my sister, so we
were prepared for almost any emergency. In case the body I occupied broke down
I could instantly enter another. If that one broke down or was destroyed, I
could enter still another, and so on.
"The
slaves were the only class which was never completely immortalized. Today,
immortalization of a slave is a reward
for faithful service. You may readily see, therefore, why the food and drink
for which I am forced to apologize are of the cruder sort. I am compelled, for
the moment, to offer you but the fare of slaves."
"It
is excellent," I replied, "and quite good enough for any king's
son."
"I
will find the means to improve it, however, as I expect you to remain here
permanently. I have planned a great
honor for you."
"Indeed?"
"I
will explain. As you probably have surmised, there has been no such thing as
propagation of the race among my immortals. This did not bother me in a
material way. When I lost a follower—which
was rarely, as every one has at least one extra body and most of them several—I
could immediately replace him from the ranks of my slaves. But there was no
love; and after about three thousand years had passed, the defect bothered me
emotionally.
"I
knew that the problem which confronted me was considerably more difficult than
any on which I had previously worked, but undaunted, I plunged into my studies.
Two thousand years of anatomical, histological, embryological, biological,
biochemical and psychological research have brought their reward, so that,
although today I differ from you physically as much as ever, I have built into
my newest bodies and into those of my sister the sexual characteristics of
ordinary human beings.
"Pangar
was sent forth today with the object of bringing me two human beings suitable
for marriage with royalty. His journey ended almost as soon as it began when he
found you and the princess. I therefore offer you the hand of my beloved
sister in marriage, and will likewise offer the half of my throne to the
Princess Loralie."
"But if we should
decline the honor?"
"It
is unthinkable. Even if you were to decline, either of you, I have means at
hand which, I am sure, will cause you to reconsider gladly."
Removing
the electrodes from his ears and draining his bowl, he arose and summoned two
pages. To the first, he said, "Instruct the Princess Loralie to prepare
for my coming." As the messenger sped away he said to the other,
"You will conduct His Highness Torrogi Zinlo of Olba to the apartments of
Her Highness Xunia, Torrogina of Doravia."
As the
little page conducted me to the apartments of Princess Xunia I turned over in
my mind Tandor's strange story and its revolting sequel. I was going to the
apartments of a girl who had been dead five thousand years, but whose soul was
bound in a machine. Beautifully and cleverly constructed as it was, it was yet
a mere mechanical contrivance—a thing of wheels and cogs, levers and shafts, a
thing that fed on electrical energy and drank fuming acid.
And
I was expected—commanded with a none-too-veiled threat—to make love to this
travesty on life.
But
Loraliel Somehow I must contrive to live in order to save her.
The
page stopped before an ornate doorway, two guards saluted and opened massive
doors. Then a pair of scarlet curtains were drawn
back, revealing a luxurious boudoir. "His Highness, Zinlo of Olba,"
announced the page as I entered the room.
The
curtains fell in place behind me. I heard the guards close the heavy doors.
As I
looked at the beauteous dead-alive creature that reclined on a luxuriously cushioned
divan in a scarlet and gold decked recess, a feeling of revulsion swept over
me; yet, paradoxically enough, this was combined with admiration. I was
revolted at thought of the nearness of this living dead thing, but could not
but admire the consummate art that had created so glorious an imitation of the
human forrn-
I
realized that if I would live to be of assistance to Loralie I had a part to
play.
Xunia
smiled languidly, seductively, as I stood before the raised divan just outside
the niche it occupied. With feline grace she extended a slender, dimpled hand.
Shuddering inwardly, I took it, expecting to feel the cold clamminess of death.
But it was as warm as my own and as natural— from its white back in which a
delicate tracery of blue veins showed, to the pink-tipped, tapering fingers. I
raised it to my lips and released it, but she clung to my fingers for a moment,
pulling me to a seat on a low ottoman just in front of her.
"Long
have I awaited your coming, prince of my heart," she said. "Be not afraid
to come near to me, for it is my desire and my command."
"To
be prince of your heart were indeed an honor," I replied, "yet you
name me this, having only seen me today."
"The moment I saw you
I knew it was so. Fear not, beloved, that there have been others before you. I
am, and have ever been, virgin in mind as in body. Once I thought I loved, yes,
but it was long ago, and then I was but a child."
"You
make me very jealous, nevertheless," I said, remembering the part I had
to play.
"I
did not really love him, I swear it, dearest." She ran her fingers through
my hair in a gentle caress so natural, so womanly, that I found it well-nigh
impossible to believe her other than a real princess of flesh and blood. Then,
before I realized what she was about, she twined her arms about my neck and
kissed me full upon my hps.
The
kiss did not taste of acid, as I had imagined it would, but was like that of a
normal, healthy girl, though it aroused in me a feeling of revulsion which I
was at some pains to conceal.
"I
go now, beloved, to prepare for your marriage," she said. "Await me
here."
As I
stood up, she took my hand and arose gracefully. The time for action had
arrived. Yet, as I looked down at the slender, beautiful figure, the
long-lashed eyes gazing trustfully up into mine, I hesitated to carry out the
plan which I had been contemplating as I sat there on the ottoman before her—a
plan with which I hoped to accomplish a double purpose—to rid myself of this
machine-monster and to get.her brother away from Loralie, for she would
probably summon him telepathically, if in no other way.
I
was trying to think of her as a dead thing in a machine, yet it seemed
impossible that she was other than human, so natural was she, and so beautiful.
But the thought of Loralie and the danger she was in steeled me to the task.
Seizing
Xunia by her long black hair, I whipped out my stone knife and slashed the
artificial muscles of the slim white throat. She gave one startled scream,
which ended at the second slash of my knife, and went limp as I jerked the head
backward, cracking the metallic structure which took the place of cervical
vertebrae. Instead of blood, there spurted from the severed neck a tiny stream
of clear fuming liquid, a few drops of which fell on my hand, burning
it like molten metal.
Dropping the sagging body, I turned and was
about to part the curtains which led out into the hall to see if the coast was
clear, when I heard a stealthy sound behind me. Swiftly turning, I saw Xunia,
apparently unharmed. In her right hand was a long, straight-bladed sword drawn
back for a thrust. Behind her lay the body I had just
destroyed.
I
leaped back just in time to avoid her vicious lunge. Then, jerking my spiked
club from my belt, I dealt her a blow which crushed her skull like an
egg-shell. But scarcely had this body sunk to the floor ere a panel opened in
the wall behind it and a third, armed like the second, stepped out to attack
me.
"Fool,"
mouthed the advancing figure. "Think you that you can slay one of the
immortals?"
This
time she swung the sword with both hands with the evident intention of
decapitating me, but I struck the weapon from her hands. Then I crushed the
skull of this third body.
I
leaped through the opened panel, where four more bodies, identical with the
other three, lay on scarlet couches. The one nearest me was just sitting up,
when I smashed the skull with my club. I quickly disposed of the next two in
the same manner before they showed any signs of life, but the last rolled from
the couch and, dodging beneath my arm, rushed out into the room from which I
had just come.
"Brother!" she
screamed. "Brother—he would destroy me!"
As I
stopped the screeching of this last figure with a blow of my club, the entire
wall toward which I was facing rolled up like a curtain. On the other side of
it was a room like the one in which I stood, and in that room were Loralie and
Tandor.
The long hair of my princess was disheveled
and her eyes were flashing with anger as she tried to pull away from the monarch,
who gripped her slender wrists.
Taking
in the situation at a glance, Tandor suddenly released Loralie, who fell to
the floor. Then he whipped out his sword and advanced on me.
Forgetting
that I held only a wooden club, I bounded forward to meet him. A sneer crossed
his cold, statuesque features, as with a deft
slash he cut my club in two near the handle.
"Die,
upstart," he snarled, raising his weapon for the blow that was to end my
existence.
I
barely succeeded in avoiding death by leaping back, then
caught up one of the swords which Xunia had dropped.
But
as I attacked he came on guard and countered with a skill which spoke of expert
training and thousands of years of practice.
"In
your ignorant folly," he said, cutting, thrusting and parrying with a deft
precision which amazed me, "you believe you have sent my sister into the unknown, and that with your skill as a swordsman you can do
likewise for me. Know, then, witless one, who would try conclusions with the
immortals, that in one of the great twin towers which flank the falls under
constant guard, my sister has twelve more bodies in reserve.
"Should
you succeed in destroying the six bodies I have here in the palace—which you will
not be able to do—I also have twelve more under guard in the opposite
tower."
"I
care not if you have a hundred, you monster," I retorted. "Bring
them one by one within reach of my blade and I'll eventually send you down the
unmarked trail you should have taken five thousand years ago."
"You
are, I perceive, a braggart as well as a dullard,"
said Tandor. "You realize, of course, that I can call the guard and have
you slain at any moment I choose to do so. Yet to make things more interesting 111 make a wager with you. If you succeed in besting me and destroying the
six bodies I have here in the palace, I'll promise not to alarm the guard until
I return from the tower in one of my reserve bodies. If I force you to
surrender, you are to become my slave for life, body and soul, to do with as I
see fit. Is it agreed?"
"It
is a wager," I replied between clenched teeth as I desperately sought for an opening in this, the most marvelous guard I
had ever encountered.
Tandor
laughed as I tried, one after another, the many tricks I had learned in my
fencing on three planets.
"You
are a good swordsman, youth, better than any mortal I have ever encountered;
yet I, with five thousand years of training, am merely playing with you. See, I
can touch you at will."
And with that, he pinked my
left shoulder.
The
moment he extended his weapon he left the opening for which I had been waiting.
Not knowing on what part of his anatomy I could use my point effectively, I
dealt him a swift neck cut with its keen edge.
The
head flew from his shoulders and bounded to the floor, but the body did not
fall. Instead, it stooped, and catching up the head, tucked it under its left
arm and resumed the contest. Here, indeed, was a super-mind, which could
control, at the same time, severed head and body.
"A
pretty counter," mocked the head, while our blades clashed as vigorously
as before, "but perhaps not as effective as you expected. I will tire you
out presently. Then will I slice
you down, inch by inch, until you will be glad to yield."
"Not
with this body," I replied as I got inside his guard for a swift downward
cut on his forearm. Cleanly severed, it fell to the floor, the hand still
gripping the sword. An instant later the body dropped the head and fell. Then a
panel slid up behind it, and Tandor, another sword in hand, emerged, smiling
sardonically. "You are more clever than I
thought, princeling, but that trick will not work again."
"It
is not the only one I know," I replied and, catching his blade on mine,
disarmed him, much to his consternation. This time I not only split his head
from crown to chin, but slashed off his right arm. Then I rushed through the
panel opening in time to catch a third newly animated body just arising from
its scarlet couch. I served it in like manner, but the fourth sprang up before
I could strike and came on guard with appalling swiftness.
Before Tandor could attack in this body I struck two swift blows, splitting the
heads of the two recumbent forms.
I
stepped to one side barely in time to avoid a powerful downward cut that would
have divided my own head had it landed, and before he could recover I severed
the sword arm of my attacker and split his head.
Rushing
back into the room where I had left Loralie, I found her plucking a sword and
dagger from one of Tandor's bodies.
"We
must get out of here at once," I said. "In a few moments Tandor will
be back here in one of his swift vehicles. Then, the terms of the wager
fulfilled, he can quickly have us captured."
"But where can we go? How can we
possibly escape?" "I do not know, but we most certainly can't get
away by remaining here. Come."
CHAPTER XI
Cautiously pabttng the scarlet drapes which hid the doorway, I
saw that the heavy doors had been bolted. Tandor had evidently intended that he
should not be disturbed.
I
expected that there would be guards in the corridor, and therefore decided that
a bold front would serve our purpose the best. I appropriated one of Tandor's magnificent belts with ornate
sword and dagger, and outfitted Loralie likewise with one of Xunia's belts
which contained lighter weapons. Then we walked quietly to the doors, which I
unbolted and swung back. The guards saluted stiffly and closed them after us as
we passed out.
"It
is the command of his majesty," I said, "that he be not disturbed by
messengers or others."
"To
hear is to obey," replied both guards in unison as we strolled away down
the corridor.
I
only knew my way to one part of the building—the landing floor. After threading
so many hallways, passageways and ramps that I had begun to think I had lost my
way, we came out on the central landing platform, from which radiated the
cables that carried the swift-moving octagonal cars to the various power houses
of Doravia.
Glancing
in the direction of the twin towers, I saw a car swiftly approaching from each
and surmised that Xunia and Tandor were already on the way to the palace.
"Quick!" I said
to Loralie. "We have not a moment to lose!"
Hurrying
her to the side of a car which hung on a cable that pointed toward the south, I
helped her aboard—then spoke to the pilot. "It is the desire of his
majesty the Torrogo that we inspect some of the buildings of Doravia. You will
first take us to the power plant at the southernmost end of the valley."
He
saluted respectfully, then moved a control lever. The
doors closed and we glided smoothly away from the platform. In a moment we
were speeding swiftly southward at a dizzy height above the valley.
One
by one we sped past the towers which dotted the river bank, so swiftly that
each Sashed for but an instant in our range of vision. Yet it seemed to me that
our pace was exasperatingly slow, for I knew that Tandor would surely reach the
central tower before we arrived at our destination;
if he
made inquiry at the landing platform he would flash a message to the commander of the southern tower, and we would face arrest
as soon as we arrived.
I
accordingly loosened my blade in its scabbard and spoke softly to Loralie.
"We must be ready to make a dash for it as soon as the doors open. Keep
behind me, and I'll try to cut a way through."
As
we drew up to the landing platform I saw a score of guards lined up to meet us.
In front of them stood a captain with drawn sword.
The doors opened and we stepped out.
"By order of His
Majesty . . ." began the officer.
I
did not wait for him to finish but whipped out my sword and beheaded him before
he could say more. Then I sprang forward and cut my way through the line of
surprised guardsmen with Loralie close behind me. She drew her own weapon, and
used it with more skill than I had believed possible in a woman.
As
we dashed off down a corridor we met two more guards, but they were crude
swordsmen and detained us but for a moment.
On coming to a transverse corridor, we turned, hoping thus to elude our
pursuers; but a moment later they rounded the turn, and at the same time I saw
a large party of men closing in on us from the opposite direction.
"We're
trapped," I said, "and this is a poor place to make a stand. We'll turn in at the next doorway we come to."
There
were doors on both sides of the corridor at intervals of about fifty feet, and
I accordingly stopped at the next and wrenched it open. Without looking to see
what was within, I pushed my companion into the opening. Hearing a scream and a
thud, I leaped in after her, but scarcely had I slammed the door ere my feet
slipped from under me, and, half lying, half sitting, I found myself sliding
down a steep spiral incline in total darkness at a terrific rate of speed.
For several minutes I continued my downward
course uninterrupted. Then the incline grew less steep and I glided over a series of humps which retarded my progress. A moment later
I shot out into the air and daylight, my feet
struck a cushioned wall, and I fell
on a thickly padded floor.
Springing
to my feet, I saw Loralie standing with drawn sword, facing
a huge guard. A short distance behind him wavelets from the river lapped the
edge of the floor on which a half-dozen narrow, pointed boats made from the
transparent metal were moored.
As I dashed forward, the guard struck her sword from her hand and attempted
to seize the princess, but ere he could do so I sprang between them and our blades met. Aside from Tandor himself, he
was the cleverest swordsman I had
encountered in Doravia.
Back
and forth we fought on that moist, slippery floor, until I succeeded in forcing him to the water's edge. Binding his blade with my
own, I pushed it upward, and leaping in close,
struck him in the breast with my left fist. He toppled for a moment on the
brink—then fell into the river behind and sank out of sight.
At
this instant I heard the clank of arms in the chute behind
us, followed by the thud of a body against the padded walls, then another and
another.
Quickly
flinging Loralie into one of the boats, I slid
it to the water's edge, leaped in and shoved off. Four spadelike paddles lay in
the bottom, and seizing one of these I managed
to get several boat lengths from the shore before our pursuers reached the
water's edge.
The
first boatload was not long in putting off after us, and with four paddles
working it gained on us rapidly. Behind it, another and another left the shore
unti] five in all pursued us.
Seeing
that it would be only a few moments before we were overhuled, I strung my bow and shot an arrow at the foremost paddler. Although it
pierced his breast it did not seem to discommode him in any way. He paddled
forward as briskly as ever, pausing only to snap off the shaft and fling it
into the water. I tried a second shot, this time aiming for his head, but the
arrow glanced harmlessly off his glittering, transparent helmet.
Loralie, following my example, also strung
her bow and tried a shot at the second paddler. It struck him in the arm, but
he broke off the shaft and continued his paddling as if nothing had struck him.
"Save
your arrows," I said as a plan suddenly occurred to me. Quickly unwinding
a length of the cord I still had with me, I looped
part of it and cut it in short pieces. Then I took from the ammunition belt of
Talibot a clip marked "Tork Projectiles—Explosive." Extracting one, I
bound it to the head of an arrow and discharged it at the first paddler. He
grinned derisively as he saw me raise my bow, but his grin disappeared,
together with most of the upper part of his mechanical anatomy when the
missile exploded.
Passing
several projectiles and bits of string to Loralie, I quickly prepared another arrow and blew a second pursuer out of
existence. By this time the first boat was less than thirty feet from us, and I
knew I would not have time to prepare a third arrow, so I drew my sword and
made ready for the attack of the two guardsmen who remained in this boat. But
before they came alongside there was only one, as Loralie, having prepared one
arrow, proceeded to blow the other to bits.
The
last remaining guardsman leaped to his feet as the slender prow of his boat
struck the rear of ours. Dropping my sword in the bottom of our boat, I quickly
tipped his boat to one side. The fellow tried to maintain his balance by throwing
his weight in the opposite direction, but I had anticipated this, and as he did
so I reversed the tilt of his boat, precipitating him into the water where he
sank out of sight.
So
occupied had I been with our pursuers that I had not noticed whither the swift
current was carrying us. My first mtimation of danger from this source was a bump and a grinding noise as
our keel struck and then slid over a submerged rock, nearly capsizing us. I
seized a paddle and swung our craft parallel with the current just as we were
precipitated into a seething, whirling rapids, from the foaming surface of
which projected numerous jagged rocks.
I
bent all my efforts to the task of avoiding the dangerous rocks which loomed
ahead as we shot forward with alarming speed, now on the crest of a huge wave,
now in a hollow so deep we could not see out of it. As we advanced the river
became narrower, the rapids steeper, and the rocks more menacing. It appeared
that the River of Life—for such Pan-gar had named it to me—might become, for
us, the River of Death.
Try as I would, I could not keep our craft from repeatedly colliding
with the rough boulders that now beset our path. The strength of its transparent metal sides
astonished me.
We
were nearly through the rapids, and I was just breathing a sigh of relief,
when the unexpected happened. Our prow struck a hidden point of rock, the boat
swung broadside, and we turned over.
I
heard a scream from Loralie as I plunged into the water, head first. The metal
paddle to which I had unconsciously clung as I fell quickly carried me to the
jagged bottom. I let go and swam as rapidly as I could to the surface. Shaking
the water from my eyes I looked around. The swift current had already taken me
beyond the foot of the rapids into deeper water. I could see no sign of the
princess, though I craned my neck in every direction.
Our
overturned boat had drifted past me, and three more boats were swiftly
descending the rapids, bottom up, but bhind them came two more, in each of
which sat four Doravian guardsmen.
Filling
my lungs, I dived for the spot where I thought Loralie might be, and swam under
water for some distance.
Upon
again coming to the surface, I saw her swimming for the shore about a hundred
feet ahead of me. Our drifting boat had hidden her from my view.
I
saw the first boatload of Doravians pass the bottom of the rapids unscathed as
I struck out after the princess. But as soon as they reached calmer water they
plied their paddles with such dexterity that I knew they would overtake me long
before I could reach the shore.
Although
I was greatly hampered by the weight of my weapons, I hesitated to part with
them, since I could not possibly get to land ahead of that boat, even if I were
stripped.
Presently
the boat came within fifteen feet of me. The foremost guardsman laid down his
paddle and drew his sword. Raising the weapon above his head, he leaned out
over the bow to dispatch me. At this instant I dived, and describing a loop
under water, came up just under the stem of the boat. Seizing it in both hands,
I capsized the craft, plunging my four assailants into the water. None of them
reappeared. The metal men apparently could not swim.
By
this time the last boat had negotiated the rapids and was paddling swiftly
toward me. Again I struck out for land, this time with some hope of making it. Loralie, who had just reached the shore, called out to me,
"Hurry. A silticum is coming this way."
I
looked back, and my first view of a silticum was none too reassuring. It was an
enormous reptile with a green lizard-like body, serpentine neck, and a head of
immense proportions.
I
struck out desperately for the shore, and the paddlers increased their
efforts. The noise they made attracted the attention of the reptile. Suddenly
swerving, it made for the boat.
As I
was quite near the shore I lowered a foot, struck bottom, and waded out. Just
as I stepped on the sloping beach, an exclamation from the princess made me
turn.
With serpentine neck arched and mighty jaws
distended, the
huge saurian lunged downward, straight for the center of the boat. One of the
occupants rammed his sword in that cavernous maw, and two others slashed at the
scaly neck, but with no apparent effect on the reptile. It seized the boat in
its immense jaws and lifting it high out of the water, shook it as a terrier
shakes a rat. Hurtling through the auto the right and left, the bodies of the
four Doravians fell into the river and disappeared.
"Come,"
said Loralie, tugging at me arm. "That creature is as swift on land as in
the water. Let us get out of its sight before it takes a notion to follow
us."
"With
pleasure," I responded, and together we hurried up the bank and plunged
into the fern forest.
For
some time we ran forward, side by side, sinking ankle-deep in the soft moss
that carpeted the forest floor.
"I'm thirsty,"
said Loralie, "and hungry. Aren't you?"
"Ravenous.
Nothing will satisfy me but a good big steak. Spore pods are all right for
appetizers, but to satisfy, hunger there is nothing like meat."
"I've
lost my bow and arrows," she said, ruefully, "along with that clip of
explosive projectiles you gave me. I dropped everything when the boat tipped
over."
"Never mind. I still have my bow, plenty of arrows, and another clip of explosive
projectiles. It's a man's place to bring in the game, anyway, while the woman
looks after the home."
"The
home?
What do you mean?"
"Why—er—that
is, I was just drawing a comparison— between ourselves
and primitive people. The man went hunting, you know, while his mate looked
after the cave, or tree, or whatever they lived in."
"His
mate? I
fail to see the comparison."
"Well,
you know we're leading a rather primitive existence just now,
and . . ."
"Prince Zinlo," she said, suddenly
stopping and facing me,
"will you cease talking generalities and tell me just what
you mean?"
"Yes," I cried vehemently.
"I'll tell you what I mean. I hadn't intended to, but it seems my words
betray my thoughts. I love you, Loralie. I want you for my mate—my princess.
But as you so plainly dislike me I shall probably go on desiring you until the
destroyer of all desires puts an end to my existence."
"I was beginning to wonder," she
said softly, "if I would ever get you to say it."
Before
I realized the purport of her words her arms were around my neck—her warm red
lips upturned, inviting. I crushed her to me, and found her a new
Loralie—tender, yielding, passionate.
"I've
loved you since the very hour we met," she said, "when you tossed my
presuming cousin into the shrubbery."
Her
hand caressed my cheek, roving softly over my rugged face. But as I bent to
claim the sweetness of her lips, I heard a twig crack behind me, and I whirled
about, hand on hilt.
To
my amazement I beheld Prince Gadrimel, standing only a short distance from us.
"A thousand pardons for this intrusion," he lisped. "By the
beard of Thorth, I could not find the heart to disturb so pretty a love scene,
were it not that darkness approaches and the camp is a considerable journey
from here."
Too astonished to reply, I could only stare
at him as he stood with a mocking smile on his effeminate features, toying
with a jeweled pendant on his breast and ogling Loralie.
"No
doubt you are glad to see me, fair cousin," he continued in his mincing patoa, grinning at the princess, "so glad that the joy of my coming
overwhelms you—renders you speechless. Come, haven't you at least a little
cousinly kiss for your deliverer who has come so far to rescue you? You appear
to lavish your caresses quite generously outside the family."
My blood boiled, at his studied insolence,
his air of proprietorship, yet I strove to control my feelings as I answered
him. "The kisses of the Princess Loralie are her own to bestow. You will
do well to remember that, Prince Gadrimel."
"And
you, Prince Zinlo, will do well to speak only when spoken to." Gadrimel
held out a hand to Loralie. "Come, cousin, let us get to camp before
darkness falls. By tomorrow we will be aboard my flagship and well on our way
to my father's palace."
The
princess drew closer to me and looked up into my face as she answered,
"Prince Zinlo is my fiance. I'll go where he goes."
"This
nonsense has gone far enough," said Gadrimel, sharply. "Ho,
warriors!"
Scarcely
had he uttered his call ere there closed in on us from the surrounding fem
brakes a full hundred armed men of Adonijar.
"Seize
and bind this interloper," he commanded, pointing to me.
When
this had been done, Gadrimel stationed a stalwart soldier at my side.
"Remain here with the prisoner, until we have passed out of earshot. Then
. . ." He stepped close to the soldier and whispered something to him.
"For which," he concluded, as he stepped back, "you may have his
weapons, accouterments and anything else of value he may have with him."
Loralie attempted to come to me as I stood
there, bound hand and foot, but two soldiers prevented her.
"What are you going to do to him?'' she
cried.
"Now, now. Calm yourself, sweet cousin," said
Gadrimel. "I am but sending him on a journey. I must insist that you hurry
to camp with me at once, or darkness will overtake us on the way; the
night-roving beasts will not be pleasant to meet in this forest."
In spite of her struggles he dragged her
away. Behind them moved the entire company of warriors with the single
exception of the one who had been instructed to remain with me. He stood
immobile, listening until the sound of voices and the clank of weapons had died
away in the distance. Then he turned to me.
"I
have been commanded to kill you, Highness," he said, simply. "Never
before have I slain a bound and helpless man, but I am a soldier of Adonijar
and may not disobey the command of my prince. However, I was not instructed as
to how I should kill you, and I bear you no malice. By what weapon do you
choose to die?"
"The
sword," I replied, "has ever been my favorite weapon. If I must die
now, let it be by the sword."
"The sword?" he
asked in puzzlement.
"That
long straight-bladed weapon in the sheath at my feet," I answered.
"Plunge it into my heart and get it over quickly."
Slowly
he bent over and withdrew the sword from its sheath. He examined it curiously,
testing the sharpness of its point with his palm and the keenness of its edge
with his thumb.
"By
the blood of Thorthl" he exclaimed. "This is a beautiful weapon. And
it will be mine as soon as I have slain you. Make ready, now, to die."
CHAPTER XH
As I
stood there in the fern forest bound hand and foot and helplessly awaiting the
death blow at the hands of Prince Cadrimel's henchman, I was suddenly knocked
flat by the drop of a huge, furry body from the limbs of the tree above me. Half dazed, I sat up just in time to see
a female cave-ape crush the head of my would-be slayer with her saw-edged club.
She
turned, and as she did so, I recognized her features. "Chixal" I
exclaimed.
"Long
have the cave-apes sought their Rogo," she said, "and great will be
their rejoicing when he returns."
With
her flint knife she quickly cut my bonds, and I stood erect once more, stamping
my feet and chafing my wrists to restore circulation, scarcely able, as yet, to
understand that I was really alive.
"Do you cave-apes still consider me
their king?"
"According
to the custom you would lose your kingdom if you remained away for more than
one endir. But you have been gone only a few days. As there is much judging to
be done, we have been searching for you."
"Where are the other searchers?" I
asked.
"Many of them are within call."
"Then
call them, and let them call as many others as they can.
With
marvelous agility for a creature of such great size, she scampered up to the
leaf crown of a tall tree-fern. Then, cupping her paws, she gave utterance to a
queer, trilling cry. It was answered, not once, but many times, from various
points far and near.
Then
she descended the tree and dropped into the glade beside me.
Presently
there came swinging through the branches a great, yellow-tusked male who, as
soon as he saw me, roared, "Hail, Zinlol" and dropped to the ground
near me. Another emerged from the fern brakes, repeating the salute of the
first, and it was not long before I was surrounded by more than two score males
and about half as many females.
As these shaggy man-beasts sat grouped around
me, respectfully waiting for me to speak, their demeanor showed that they
recognized me as their king without question.
"My
subjects," I said, "I have work for you in which
there is much danger and much fighting."
"Will there be
food-men?"
"There will be many
food-men."
"Good!" This
answer was unanimous.
"We will start as soon
as I have issued full instructions."
But
the great, yellow-tusked male who had first responded to the summons of Chixa
protested, "There is judging to be done. Will you not first do the
judging, so we may go into the fight with our differences settled?"
"Who
are you," I asked, "to question the edicts of your Rogo?"
"I
am Griff, mighty warrior, mighty hunter," he replied, puffing out his
broad, hairy chest. "But I do not question your edicts. I only ask that
you hold the judging now."
Before
I could answer him there came a sharp cry from a female who had perched herself
in the branches above our heads in order that she might better observe
everything that went on.
"Dangerl Danger!"
she shrieked. "A silticum!"
Every
cave-ape instantly took to the trees, and I heard the crashing of a huge
creature in the underbrush as it swiftly made its way through the forest.
Evidently the silticum which had attacked the Doravian guards had seen us, even
as Loralie had feared, and was now on our trail.
Quickly
taking the last clip of explosive projectiles from my belt, I removed two of
the needle-like missiles and bound each to the head of an arrow. Then I strung
my bow and awaited the coming of the monster.
Chixa
called to me from the leaf crown of a tall tree-fern. "Come up into the
trees, Rogo. You cannot fight a silticum."
"Yes, climb before it is too late,"
called Griff. "No one has ever slain a silticum."
Although
I knew nothing of the ways of this saurian, I had seen its great size and knew
that if it had intelligence enough to do so it could pull down any tree within
my range of vision. In view of this fact, and also because I could not get
about as swiftly as the cave-apes in the trees, I felt safer on the ground.
"Stay
up in the trees if you like," I answered them. "I will show you how
your king slays a silticum."
In a
few moments I saw the huge green head swaying on the snaky neck at a height of
about twenty feet above the ground. It was looking this way and that,
apparently searching for me. As it drew closer I saw that it was indeed the
same monster that had attacked the machine men in the boat, for projecting
through its lower jaw was the transparent sword blade where the Doravian
guardsman had thrust it, and which the creature had been unable to dislodge.
I
fitted an explosive arrow to my bowstring, and' at this moment the monster
spied me. With a hiss like steam escaping from a locomotive, it distended its
enormous jaws and charged straight for me. Taking careful aim at the cavernous
maw, I drew the arrow back to the head and let fly.
The
reptile turned slightly so my shaft did not strike the target squarely, but
considering the terrific force of the tork projectile this did not greatly
matter. For although the missile struck the monster in the
comer of the mouth, the explosion tore off the whole side of its head.
I
instantly fitted my second arrow to the bowstring, but instead of advancing the
great saurian swerved to one side and began threshing about in a circle,
striking this way and that with its huge, scaly tail which swept the fem trunks
before it, knocking them over as if they had been mere reeds. As the tail now
appeared to be the most formidable weapon of the heast, I aimed my second shaft
with a view to crippling this appendage, and let fly.
It
struck the monster just above one of its thick hind legs, blasting a great hole
in the flank and not only crippling the tail but both hind legs as well.
Upon
seeing this, the cave-apes instantly descended on the stricken reptile with
yells of triumph, and were soon hacking at its heaving sides with their
saw-edged clubs and prying up huge scales with their flint knives in order to
get at the quivering flesh underneath.
"Hail,
Zinlol" the shouted. "Mighty warrior, mighty hunter, mighty sorcererl
With his magic he slays even the silticum, the terror
of stream and forestl"
As I
watched the cave-apes at their bloody feast, I recalled that I, too, was
hungry. Elbowing my way through the growling, snarling, milling mob, I carved a
steak from the shoulder with my keen Doravian dagger. Then I made a small
cooking fire and grilled my slab of meat. It proved tasty enough, although
rather tougher than a gourmet would have relished. But with good teeth and an
excellent appetite this bothered me not at all.
By
the time I had finished, and swallowed a draught from a water fern, my hairy
retainers had all gorged themselves.
I arose and called them together. They
squatted expectantly around me in a semicircle. "You, Griff," I
said. "Bring me that shiny club which sticks in the jaw of the
silticum."
After he had brought me the sword of the
Doravian boatman, I continued, "You have asked that judging be done
before we fight. I have no time for judging now, so I am going to let you do
it. This shiny club will be your token of authority, by which you will do
judging in my name. Go now, taking the shes with you, back to the caves. And beware
that your decisions are just ones, for I will hear of it, and will come and
slay you with my magic if they are not."
"But,
Rogo," he protested, "I would like to go and fight the food-men with
your others."
"You
will do as you are bidden without further question. Throw away your old club
and take this shiny one which slays with its point as well as its edges."
Silently,
and rather sullenly, he removed his club from his belt string and tossed it
away. Then he took the sword and lumbered away through the forest, followed by
the females.
As
soon as they had departed I called the others together and started off on the
trail of Prince Gadrimel. But darkness overtook us before we had gone more than
five miles, and we were forced to take to the trees to avoid the depredations
of the night-roving carmivora.
Propped
in a high leaf crown that swayed with each passing breeze, I didn't get much
sleep during that noisy night, oppressed by my constant fear for Loralie in the
clutches of her unscrupulous cousin.
It
was with a sigh of relief that I greeted the dawn and made my way to the
ground. Impatient to be off, I stopped only for a drink of water, then started down the well-marked trail with my small but
formidable company. The spoor of Loralie's abductors continued to follow the
winding course of the River of Life for about six miles to the remains of a
large camp which had been completely surrounded by watch fires. Most of these
were still smoldering as we came up.
Of
the people of Prince Gadrimel we saw no sign, save tracks leading to the river
where there were indentations made by the prows of small craft.
I
led my ape-men at a trot along the flat, sandy beach for miles. The river bank
gradually grew more rugged, and at last we climbed to a rocky eminence
commanding a view of both sea and river.
Anchored not more than an eighth of a mile
off this point, and rocking in the gently rolling swell, I saw the five ships
of Prince Gadrimel. Paddling swiftly toward them from the river mouth were a
score of small boats, in the foremost of which were two scarlet-clad figures
which I knew must be Gadrimel and Loralie.
Helplessly
I watched while his henchmen bundled the princess aboard the flagship, boats
were drawn up to their places on the decks, sails were hoisted, and anchors
weighed.
So,
with straining eyes, a great lump in my throat and a weight in my heart, I saw Gadrimel triumphantly sail away over the
bounding, blue-gray Ropok with the only woman I have ever loved.
As I
stood there, absent-mindedly watching my subjects scurry through the forest in
search of game, I pondered my predicament. The only thing left for me to do, I
reasoned, was to follow the coast northward as Loralie and I had planned to do.
In order to reach Olba I would pass through Adonijar, but single-handed I could
do nothing against an entire nation.
Once
in Olba I felt that I could persuade the Torrogo to let his supposed son have
an air fleet for the purpose of avenging the attempted murder of the Crown
Prince, and with this I could quickly persuade the ruler of Adonijar to give up
the princess.
I
dreamed thus futilely until a great splash of rain struck me in the face,
followed by the patter of many more on the leaves around me. Brought to a
sudden realization of my surroundings, I noticed that the gentle wash of the
waves against the shore had changed to the booming roar of huge breakers, that
the trees were bending before a considerable breeze, and that despite the fact
that the day was not yet spent it was growing steadily darker.
A terrific peal of thunder, followed by a
vivid flash of lightning, made every cave-ape drop the bone he was gnawing and
look toward me as if for protection or guidance.
"Zog
makes magic in the heavens, Rogo," said Borg, quaking with fear. T'Zog
is angry. Let us hide until he goes away. I noticed a great, cave beneath the
next cliff when I was hunting."
Glancing
around at the other beast-men, I saw that Borg was not the only one who had
been frightened by the peal of thunder. Every cave-ape was shivering in abject
terror.
"Lead
the way to the cave, Borg," I said. "I do not fear Zog, but there is
much rain and much wind coming from across the big water,
and a cave will be more comfortable."
The
frightened cave-ape needed no urging, but hurried off at once, the others after
him, while I brought up the rear at a more leisurely pace. Peal after peal of
thunder sounded, the lightning flashed almost incessantly, and rain came down
in torrents before I reached the cave mouth.
Entering,
I beheld my erstwhile fearless fighters huddled together like frightened
frellas and shivering as if with the ague.
"Every one fears
Zog," explained a young ape.
"Your
Rogo does not fear him," I said, "and you should not. Come and help
me pile stones in the doorway lest a silticum or some other monster get in
tonight."
"We are afraid to go to the
doorway," quavered Borg. "Zog will slay us with his magic fire."
"Enough of this. Come over here and help me, every one of
you, or I will slay you all with my magic."
The
tragic fear which was in their eyes was pitiful to behold, but they were not
long in choosing between what they believed would be sure death from my magic
and possible death from the bolts of the deity they called "Zog." The
doorway was soon so completely blocked that no night-roaming beast could enter.
Night having come on by this time, the only
light in the cave was from the frequent flashes of lightning.
For
a long time I stood at the entrance. Each lightning flash showed branches
flying through the. air, fern-trees blown over, and
wild things, large and small, scurrying for shelter.
I was awakened in the morning by a loud
clatter and the sound of gruff voices. Sitting up with a yawn, I stretched my
cramped limbs as I watched Borg and several other cave-apes dragging the
barricade away from the cave entrance. Gone was the unreasoning fear that had
gripped them the night before.
I
rose and followed them outside. The storm had vanished, and other than the
upper cloud envelope which is ever present in the Zarovian sky, the heavens
were clear. But the still-dripping fern forest plainly showed the ravages of
the tempest. The ground was Uttered with leaves and
branches; trees were bent over, snapped off and uprooted, and many streams of
muddy water trickled riverward.
Crossing
the gulch which separated our cave from the highest eminence, I climbed to the
point where I had been standing the night before when the storm struck, to find
some spore pods. As I gazed out over the Ropok, now rolling as gently as it had
before the storm, my munching terminated in a sudden exclamation of surprise.
Lying
on their sides far out in the surf with the waves rolling over them, and
apparently deserted, I saw the battered hulls of two of Prince Gadrimel's
ships. And anchored on the lee side of the promontory on which I stood, were
the other three ships, their spars and rigging in most sorry case. The
flagship, I observed, was the one anchored nearest the point of the headland,
indicating that Loralie had escaped death, for which I was deeply thankful.
From where I stood I could see the crews of the three ships busy repairing the
damages which the storm had wrought.
Crouching in order that I might not be
observed, I made my way back into the gulch, where most of my fierce retainers
were finishing their morning meal.
"The
food-men have returned," I said. "Keep out of sight so they will not
know that we are here. And do not go far away, as I will probably need you to
fight very soon."
"We
will remain nearby, Rogo," said Borg. "We are all very hungry for the
flesh of food-men."
I
returned to my lookout on the rock and tried to formulate some plan of attack.
Presently I saw two scarlet-clad figures appear on the deck of the flagship.
The smaller of the two was constantly attended by two armed warriors. Gadrimel
had evidently found it expedient to keep the princess under constant
surveillance.
But
a plan did not suggest itself to me until I saw several boats lowered and a
party of officers, headed by Gadrimel, put off for shore. Dashing back to the
gulch where my cave-apes were grouped, I said, "Some of the food-men are
coming ashore. We will divide into two parties of equal size, one of which
will be under the leadership of Borg. The other I will lead.
"Borg's
party will go down near the shore at the spot toward which they are coming.
With his warriors he will climb into the trees, taking care lest the food-men
see any of them, for they carry magical clubs which can kill at a great distance.
As soon as the food-men enter the forest, Borg and his warriors will drop down
on them from the trees and surprise them. They can thus be slain before they
have a chance to use their magic clubs. Do you understand, Borg?"
"I
understand, Rogo," replied the old cave-ape. "The food-men will not
see us until we fall upon and slay them."
Calling
the other cave-apes to follow me, I hurried to the other side of the promontory
and descended its steep seaward side where we were hidden from view of the
ships. Then, cutting the string I had with me into appropriate lengths, I tore
a number of fronds from a wide-leafed variety of bush-fern, and proceeded to
bind these to the heads of my subjects, spreading them in such a manner that at
a distance they would effectually conceal the heads and shoulders of the great
brutes. Disguising myself in the same manner, I led my savage followers to the
very point of the promontory and into the water.
"You
will all keep close together in the water," I said, "and follow me
without noise. There are many trees and branches floating down the river this
morning, and if we swim carefully and silently we will not be noticed."
Peering
around the point, I saw that Gadrimel and his hunters had landed and were
starting into the forest. Then there came to me faintly the yells of startled
men and the roars of fighting cave-apes, interspersed with the popping of torks
and clash of weapons, and I knew that all eyes on board the ship would be
directed toward the scene of battle.
"Now,"
I said, and plunging into the water, swam around the point and straight for the
flagship. Just behind me, in such close formation that we must have appeared
like a single, tangled mass of floating branches, came
my camouflaged apes.
The
flagship was not more than a thousand feet from the point, but before we could
reach it I saw more boats put off from all the ships and make swiftly for the
scene of combat on shore.
We
came up under the prow of the ship just as the sounds of conflict announced the
arrival of the small boats at the beach where the battle was taking place.
Silently
I seized the taut anchor chain and went up, hand over hand. Just as silently, my
ape warriors followed. On reaching the top, I peered cautiously through the
railing. Loralie and her two guards were standing on the starboard side
watching the battle on shore. There were three men aloft, apparently there to
repair the rigging, but they, too, had their eyes trained shoreward.
Without a sound, I climbed over the railing,
and with sword in one hand and dagger in the other, advanced toward the two
men. Simultaneously, I jabbed the point of my dagger in the back of one, and
the point of my sword in the other.
"One
false' move," I said, "and you die. Raise your hands above your heads
and keep your faces shoreward."
They
complied with alacrity. With a little scream of fear, Loralie turned to see
what had happened.
"Zinlo!" she
exclaimed. "I knew you would cornel"
"Take their weapons,
my princess."
She
quickly removed their belts from which depended their torks and scarbos.
Three
of the apes had meanwhile scrambled aloft after the men in the rigging, and the
others were searching the ship.
"Bring
to me alive those who do not resist," I shouted. "You may slay the
others."
My
words had the desired effect on Gadrimel's men, for although those in the
rigging all carried short scarbos, none offered to fight. Other than these
three and the two I had disarmed, the apes found only the cook and his helper.
When
the prisoners had all been rounded up, I addressed them.
"All of you who are willing to take
orders from me will give the royal salute. The others will be quickly deposed
of, as my apes are hungry."
To a man, they saluted.
"You
three," I said, addressing the men who had been aloft, "hoist the
sails. And you," pointing to the two guards, "heave the anchor."
I
sent the cook and his helper back to their pots and pans under guard of two
apes. Then I took the helm with Loralie at my side and as the sails filled,
steered for the open sea.
We had nearly passed the point of the
promontory when the boom of a mattork and the sing of its shell through our
rigging announced that we had been discovered. "Can you steer?" I
asked Loralie.
"Better
than you, landsman," she answered laughingly. "Give me the
helm."
Her father ruled the
greatest maritime nation on Zarovia.
"Make
for the open sea," I said, "and I'll see if my marksmanship is
better than my steering." The mattork, which was nothing but an oversized
tork mounted on a tripod, stood nearby swathed in its water-proof covering.
Beside it was the case which contained the clips of projectiles with their
various designations printed in patoa: Solid, Paralyzing, Deadly, Explosive.
Stripping
the cover from the weapon, I chose a clip
of explosive projectiles and inserted it in the breech. By this time two
mattorks on each of the anchored ships had opened fire, and shells were SCTearning around us. One snapped a shroud, and I ordered a sailor up to replace it. Another burst against
our hull. And still others, ricocheting from the surface of the water, whined
plaintively as they sped on their way.
I
took careful aim at the rear mattork on the nearest ship and pressed the
button. But the weapon was strange to me, and equally strange was the
experience of firing a projectile from a ship. I saw my shell
strike the water far behind the mark.
Again
I took aim, this time allowing for the rocking of the ship. To my surprise, my
shell burst just beneath my target, tearing the gunner to shreds and knocking
the weapon from its tripod.
I
tried another shot at the forward mattork, but it went wild. Then both boats
slipped from our view as we rounded the promontory.
"My
marksmanship is as wretched as my handling of a boat," I said. "But they cannot harry us for a time, at least Where to now, my princess?"
With one hand she reached for my own, drew my
arm around her slender waist. The other still skillfully managed the helm.
"Whither you will, beloved," she
replied. "Shall it be Olba or Tyrhana—north or south?" "Which is
nearer?"
"They are about
equally distant from here."
"Then
let us try for Olba, for there I am sure Gadrimel dare not follow us."
Gently
she brought the boat about until its prow pointed directly north. "It will
not be long before Gadrimel sets out after us."
"He may have been
slain by Borg and his apes."
"Not
he," replied Loralie. "I was watching from the ship, and saw that he
was the first to run for the beach when they were attacked. Standing beside a
boat and ready to put off at a sign of a turn in the tide of battle, he used
his tork, but did not get into the thick of the fight. A
cautious youth, my cousin."
It
was not long before her prediction was fulfilled. One of the ships nosed around
the promontory and came after us with all sails up.
I
sprang to the mattork and fired. It was a bad miss. Again I fired. This time my
projectile struck the water close to the target. I was getting the range. But
when I would have fired a third time there was an explosion in the breech. The
projectile had jammed and the safety plug had blown out.
Frantically
I worked with the recialcitrant weapon, momentarily expecting a volley from
our pursuers. But none came. Evidently the prince had forbidden the use of
mat-torks because of the presence of Loralie on our vessel.
Suddenly
a terrific explosion from the front of our vessel knocked me flat. Half dazed,
I gripped a leg of the tripod for support just as the deck gave a violent lurch
forward.
My
prostrate body swung halfway over, and I saw with horror that the front end of
the ship had been completely blown away and she was plunging into the waves,
nose down. I have never learned the cause of that explosion, but believe that
the cook or his helper found a way to outwit their ape guards and destroy the
vessel.
My
gaze flashed to the wheel, but the princess was nowhere in sight, then I heard
a shout from the water behind me. Loralie was swimming in the wake of the
swiftly sinking vessel. "Jump! she
cried. "Jump quickly, or you will be dragged down with the ship!"
I
sprang to the rail and leaped over. A moment later I was swimming beside her as
we both strained every muscle in our endeavor to put as much distance as
possible between ourselves and the stricken vessel before she went down.
But
try as we would, we could not escape the mighty suction of the boat as it
plunged beneath the waves. Like tossing corks we were dragged back in spite of
our utmost efforts. But by the time we reached the center of the whirlpool it
had so far susided that the water was comparatively calm and we were not drawn
under.
Presently
bits of wreckage began to come up around us. A huge timber suddenly popped to
the surface. We swam to it and found it amply buoyant to sustain our combined
weight in the water.
As
we topped the crest of a wave I glanced back. The first ship was within a
quarter of a mile of us, and I caught a glimpse of a scarlet-clad figure in the
bow, eagerly scanning the water with a glass.
I
was still looking back when a cry from Loralie attracted my attention in
another direction. "A killer norgal! The scourge
of the Ropok has seen us! We are doomed!"
Bearing
down on us at terrific speed, I saw an enormous fish. Its body, fully thirty
feet in length, was blue in color, and bristled with sharp spines of a deep
crimson shade. Its huge jaws, large enough to have swallowed ten men at a gulp, were open, revealing row on row of sharp, back-curved teeth.
"Better
that than Gadrimel," said Loralie with a shudder, "for we can die
together. One last kiss, beloved, for it is the end."
Our
lips met and clung, across the timber. Then I drew my sword, puny weapon indeed
with which to meet such an enemy.
CHAPTER XIII
As we
clung to the timber there
in the tossing waves, Loralie and I, the killer norgal swiftly surged closer
and closer. There was no mistaking its purpose. It had seen us and singled us
out for its prey.
Suddenly
a dark shadow fell on us from above. A shot rang out, followed by a muffled
explosion. Where the gaping mouth of the fish had been was only a bloody mass
of flesh and bone. The mighty carcass lurched, flopped about for a moment, and then turned belly upward.
Above
us loomed the great bulk of an aerial battleship, swiftly descending. It
hovered only a short distance above our heads. A door opened in the side and a
flexible metal ladder was lowered to us. I helped Loralie to mount, then went
up after, hand over hand.
An
officer in the uniform of Olba helped me into thte ship. He was the mojak, or
captain of the vessel.
Then
he bowed low with right hand extended palm downward, as did every other man in
sight. "Your name, officer," I said.
"Lotar," he answered, "at your
highness's service." "Lotar, you will find quarters for Her Highness
Loralie of
Tyrhana,
then start immediately {or the Imperial Palace at Olba."
"I
hear and obey," he replied, and dashed off to give the necessary orders.
We
mounted to the rear turret, the princess and I, and watched the two ships of
Gadrimel fast disappearing from view. Why he did not fire at us I have never
learned. Possibly because the princess was on board, but more
probably because he feared the powerful mattorks of the mighty Olban airship.
The
princess presendy retired to her quarters to rest, and I went forward with
Lotar, who was directing the pilot in the first turret. "How long should
it take us to get to Olba?" I asked.
The
young mojak consulted his charts and instruments for a moment.
"We
should be able to make the palace by nightfall, Highness," he said.
"This ship is rated at a rotation."
A
rotation, I recalled, meant the speed at which Venus turns on her axis,
approximately a thousand miles an hour.
"Who sent you after
us?"
"Your
Highness's father has had the entire air fleet of Olba scouring the planet for
you since your disappearance from the Black Tower. His Majesty assigned a
patrol zone to each ship. I have been flying above this zone for many days.
Attracted by the explosion which destroyed your ship, I flew over to
investigate. With the aid of my glass I saw you and Her Highness in the water,
and the norgal swimming toward you. As a marksman I have won many prizes in
tournaments with the mattork. It was a simple matter for me to kill the norgal
with an explosive projectile."
"It
was excellent shooting," I said, "and it not only saved my life, but
a fife that is infinitely dearer to me. You will not find me ungrateful."
"My greatest reward lies in the
knowledge that I have
saved your highness for Olba. There will be great rejoicing throughout the
length and breadth of the empire when the people learn that you are alive. And
greatest of all will be the joy of His Imperial Majesty, Torrogo Hadjez."
For
some time I strolled about the ship, examining her armament and admiring the
luxury of her appointments. Presently, Loralie came out of her stateroom. We
went to the salon, where hot kova was served to us in jewel-encrusted golden
cups.
Night fell just as we flew above the great
crescent-shaped harbor of Tureno, and its myriad lights flashed on as did those
of Olba. I caught a fleeting glimpse of the lighted windows of the Black Tower
as we hurtled past it. Then the pilot gently slowed the ship until we were
directly above the Imperial Palace.
As
we dropped toward the flat roof a number of guards came running toward us. Two
of them seized the ladder which we dropped and held it while the princess
descended. Then I followed.
A
mojak in the uniform of the palace guard stepped up and tendered the royal
salute. "His majesty will be overjoyed, highness. It was his command that
I bring you before him as soon as you arrive."
There
was something strangely familiar about the features of this officer. I tried to
place him as he conducted Loralie and me down the telekinetic elevator.
When
it stopped he bowed us into a spacious hall which led to a great, arched
doorway hung with curtains of soar-let and gold, at each side of which stood
two guards armed with torks, scarbos and long-bladed spears.
The
four guards bowed obsequiously as we came up. Then two of them parted the
curtains and there stood before us another individual whose face seemed
strangely familiar to me. Yet he wore the pompous uniform of a torrango, or prune minister, which I recognized from my
studies, and I knew I had never met the prime minister of Olba.
As'soon
as he saw me, he bowed low with right hand extended palm downward. "His
Majesty the Torrogo bids you welcome. Whom may I announce as accompanying
you?"
"Her Highness,
Loralie. Torrogina of Tyrhana," I replied.
He
bowed once more and departed. A moment later I heard him announcing our names
and titles. Then a voice, which also seemed familiar to me, said, "You
will conduct them before the throne."
As
we followed the prime minister into the large and magnificent throne room of
Olba, more guards saluted and fell in behind us. A guard of honor, I thought.
I
had never seen Torrogo Hadjez, and was curious for a look at his face, but
restrained my impatience until Loralie plucked at my arm.
"Look!" she
whispered. "Look who sits upon the throne!"
I
raised my eyes, and the features of my arch-enemy, Taliboz, leered down at me.
For a moment I was stunned as I saw him sitting there, arrayed in the royal
scarlet and wearing the insignia of the Torrogo of Olba. Then my hand flew to
my sword hilt and I sprang forward. But before I could take a second step
strong arms pinioned my own from behind and my weapons were wrested from me.
"I
trust," Taliboz said, bowing to Loralie, "that you will excuse this
poor reception, but as your coming was unexpected we were totally unprepared
to greet you with the pomp and circumstance due visiting royalty." He
turned to his minister. "See that suitable apartments are prepared for Her
Highness of Tyrhana at once and conduct her there, Maribo. And Vinzeth,"
he said, addressing the mojak who had conducted us to the throne room,
"you will also conduct Tor-rogi Zinlo to the suite that awaits his coming."
"You
fiend!" said Loralie, facing him with flashing eyes. "What are you
going to do with the prince!"
"Have no fear, Your Highness,"
responded Taliboz. "No harm shall come to him. Not now, anyway. Later, his
fate shall rest in your fair hands."
I was dragged out a side
door by two guards.
They
took me down a small elevator which, it seemed to me, traveled into the very
bowels of the planet before it stopped. Then I was jerked out of the car and
pulled along a narrow, dimly lighted passageway that seemed to have been hewn
from solid rock, until we came before a door of massive metal bars.
One
of the guards produced a key with which he unlocked this door, and I was flung
inside with such force that I fell sprawling on a cold stone floor and the door
clanged shut behind me.
Scarcely
had I fallen to the stone floor of the dungeon cell into which I had been
hurled, when a shadowy form darted from its dim interior and was helping me to
my feet.
"Are
you hurt, Highness?" the man asked solicitously. I recognized the voice
instantly, though the features were still indistinguishable to me, my eyes not
having become accustomed to the semidarkness.
"Lotar!" I exclaimed. "What are you doing
here?"
"I
was placed under arrest with all my officers and crew immediately after you
left with the villainous Vinzeth. So far as I know, my men are confined in the
cells around us."
"But
what is the meaning of it all? Where is the Torrogo Hadjez, and how did Taliboz
attain the scarlet and the imperial throne?"
"At
the time of Your Highness's disappearance from the Black Tower, Taliboz and a
number of his henchmen disappeared also," said Lotar. "A short time
ago he returned alone, disguised as a merchant of Adonijar and driving one of
the swift mechanical vehicles which are manufactured in that country. His
disguise was penetrated by a soldier of the imperial guard, who placed him
under arrest and took him before Torrogo Hadjez.
"His Majesty questioned Taliboz about
your disappearance, and he told a story which was believed by some and
discredited by others—namely, that there was a plot on foot among the guards of
the Black Tower to assassinate you as you slept. He said that he, with Vinzeth
and Maribo and his men, had fought, protecting you from death, until they were
driven back, and you were dragged to the tower top and spirited away by the
plotters in one of the tower airships.
"As
quickly as he could, so his story went, he returned to his fighting craft and
set out in pursuit of your abductors. They finally crashed, he said, in the
wild country of the cave-apes beyond Adonijar, where you and your abductors
were killed in the crash. All of his men were killed and eaten by cave-apes,
and he barely escaped with his life to Adonijar, where he had purchased a
merchant's outfit and vehicle with which to traverse the high road to
Olba."
"I
have met liars,"
I said, "on three
planets, but Taliboz seems to be prince of them all. This, however, does not explain
how the traitor attained the throne. I left him, paralyzed by a tork
projectile, in a forest near the mountains of the cave-apes. That he escaped
the perils of the jungle is little short of miraculous."
"No
one could disprove the story told by Taliboz," Lotar pointed out, "as
everyone in the Black Tower had been slain. Torrogo Hadjez could do nothing but
thank him for attempting to save your life, reward him with costly presents,
and restore to him all the honor and authority which had been his before his
departure. That the Torrogo did not believe his story, however, was evidenced
by the fact that his air navy continued to patrol the globe in search of Your
Highness."
Someone rapped sharply on one of the massive
bars of the cell door with the hilt of a weapon. It was one of the guards
assigned to patrol the corridor.
"Less noise in there,
prisoners," he growled, then passed on.
"I
learned more while we were being held in one of the upper rooms after our
arrest on the palace roof," continued Lotar softly. "As you are
probably aware, every man who awaited us on the roof was a henchman of Taliboz.
Your Imperial father, Highness, died at the hands of an assassin several days
ago. The dagger found driven in his back was proved to be that of Arnifek, his
prime minister. With Torrogo Hadjez dead and your highness presumably so, there
was no successor to the throne and it was necessary for a new Torrogo to be
elected by acclamation. Taliboz was thus elected. He immediately had Arnifek,
the supposed assassin; executed, made Maribo his
prime minister, and Vinzeth captain of the palace guards."
"Do you think Arnifek
was guilty of the murder?"
"Of course not. Taliboz—or one of his tools—did it with Amifek's dagger. It was part of
his plan to get control of the Olban government. Why he has let you live even
this long is a mystery to me."
"It
is no mystery to me," I answered. "He dropped some hint of his
purpose before he sent me from the throne room, for I heard him tell Princess
Loralie that my fate should rest in her hands. He will attempt to force Loralie
into marriage with him by threatening my life—and have me slain once the
marriage is consummated."
"You
are right, Highness," said Lotar. "Taliboz plays for even greater
stakes—to unite the only air power and the mightiest maritime nation of
Zarovia, Olba and Tyrhana, by marriage. Adonijar would probably form an
alliance with him because her ruler is married to the princess's aunt. He would
be the wealthiest and most influential monarch on the globe. Nor is there a
single nation powerful enough to oppose such a strong alliance—not even
Reabon, with her
mighty army. Reabon is far across the ocean, and besides, her great warlike
Torrogo died recently, leaving his daughter, Vernia, to rule in his
stead."
"Reabon,"
I mused. "The name sounds familiar. Ah, I remember. That is the country
to which Grandon went."
"Grandon?"
he exclaimed, puzzled. "The name has a foreign sound."
"An old friend of mine. You would not know him. He is, as you say, a
foreigner. ... Is this Taliboz so
popular that the people would gladly make him Torrogo by acclamation?"
"Far
from it, Highness," replied Lotar, "though he probably persuaded
some of them to espouse his cause by convincing them that he had risked his
life in an attempt to save yours."
"It
looks," I said, "as if it were impossible to escape from here."
"I
am familiar with these dungeons, Highness, as I served in the palace guard for
two years. There is a way to escape—a secret way which I doubt very much
whether Taliboz himself knows. But we must first get past yonder barred door
and the armed guard in the corridor."
"If
that is all," I replied, "I see freedom in the offing. Follow my
instructions implicitly, and we'll soon be out of this."
"You have but to command,
Highness."
"Very well. When next the guard approaches on his rounds, talk very loudly. No
doubt he will stop and order you to be silent. When he does this, insult
him."
"But
he will only come in and beat me with the flat of his scarbo, Highness."
"Do as I say, Lotar. I
will attend to the rest."
It
was not long before we heard the heavy footfalls of the guard in the corridor.
I immediately started a conversation with my companion in a loud voice.
"Silencel"
roared the guard. "The other prisoners want to sleep."
"Be on your way, you clumsy lout,"
replied Lotar, "and do not in the future forget how to address your
superiors."
"My
superiorsl Ho, hoi" jeered the guard. "Very soon will I show you who
is superior, a prisoner or his jailer."
He
took a bunch of keys from his belt pouch and fumbled among them until he found
the one that fitted our door.
"Now
see what you have done, Lotar," I exclaimed, simulating great fear.
"You have got us a beating with that noisy tongue of yours."
The guard flung open the door, a grin of delight
on his features. Such a man would not only welcome any opportunity to torture
a fellow creature, but would seek such an opportunity.
"So,
O cub of a dead marmelot, you fear a beating," snarled the guard. "It
is well that a weakling such as you can never mount the throne."
"Were
he on the throne," Lotar snapped, "hahoes like you would be working
in the quarries where they belongl"
The
guard raised his scarbo for a heavy blow at the defenseless Lotar. This gave
me the opening for which I had been waiting. With a single bound I was in front
of him. Before he could recover from his surprise I planted a crashing right
hook on the point of his jaw. He went down like a felled ninepin, nor was a
second blow necessary.
I
gave his tork and dagger to Lotar, but retained the scarbo myself. It took us
but a few moments to bind and gag the prostrate guard with the straps of his
own accouter-ments. We dragged him back into a comer, closed and locked the
cell door, and tiptoed stealthily down the corridor, the young captain in the
lead.
"Let us release your
men," I said.
"Your
Highness's life is too precious to risk for them. Still, if it is your
Highness's command . . ."
It IS.
Pausing before the first cell door, Lotar
peered within. "Here are six of them," he whispered, testing his keys
in the lock.
Looking
over his shoulder, I saw six shadowy forms on the floor, and could hear their
breathing as they slept.
When
he had found the right key, Lotar opened the door quietly and stepped within.
One by one he awakened the sleeping men, cautioning silence.
We
went from cell to cell until we had released forty-five men—all but five of the
crew of Lotar's aerial battleship. He was opening their cell door when we heard
the clatter of footsteps, the clank of weapons and the sound of talking. Armed
men were approaching by way of a transverse corridor.
"Quick, into this cell, every man of
you," I ordered.
Silently
our forty-five filed into the cell with the remaining five. When all were
inside there was standing room only.
"Now, Lotar," I whispered,
"let us go to greet our callers."
He
whipped out his dagger and followed me to the intersection of the two
corridors, where we crouched, breathlessly awaiting the approach of the enemy.
CHAPTER XIV
As lotah
and I crouched against the
corridor wall in the dungeon beneath the Imperial Palace of Olba we could hear
our unseen enemies drawing nearer and nearer in the transverse passage way.
How many there were, or how well they were armed, we had no means of knowing.
But we were desperate, and had there been an entire company of them we could
have done nothing but fight like cornered rats.
Two
guards, fully armed, suddenly rounded the turn facing us. Out came the scarbo
of the one nearest me, but before he could use it my point had found his
throat. He went down with a queer gurgling sound. Lotar had, meanwhile, sprung
on the other guard like an enraged marmelot, burying his dagger in his breast.
Simultaneously, we withdrew our dripping weapons, thinking this was all, when
suddenly a third guard rounded the comer.
This time we had no element of surprise in
our favor, for he had seen us as quickly as we had him.
He
quickly clapped his hand to his tork, at the same time raising his voice to
alarm the guards. "Helpl Two pris—"
He
said no more, nor had he even an opportunity to press the tork button, for with
Ughtning quickness that the eye could scarce follow, Lotar had hurled his
bloody dagger straight at the enemy's face. It entered his opened mouth with
such force that the point protruded from the back of his neck and the hilt
clicked against his teeth. With a look of amazement and horror on his twisted
features, he slumped to the floor.
"Get
their weapons, Lotar," I ordered, and hurried to summon our men. With the
weapons of the three guards we partly armed six of them, and once more hurried
away under the guidance of Lotar.
But
we had not gone far when there was a great clamor and much shouting behind us,
and we knew our escape had been detected. We bounded forward now, without any
attempt at silence. A moment later Lotar called a halt before a huge,
cylindrical pillar about three feet in diameter, which to all outward
appearances was exactly like the many other pillars which supported the stone
roof of the corridor.
Whipping
out his dagger, he pressed the point into a tiny crack in the floor in front of
it, whereupon, much to my amazement, I saw that the pillar was turning quite
rapidly, and as it turned, moved up into the rock above it like a gigantic
screw. In a few seconds its base was above the floor, and beneath it there
yawned a black well.
"Into it, every man of
you, quickly," ordered Lotar.
The man nearest the wall
paused gingerly on the edge.
"Leap," ordered
the captain. "It is not far."
In
he went, and we could see that the spot where he had landed was scarcely seven
feet below the floor level. After him, as fast as they could find room, crowded
the other men. But meanwhile, the sounds from behind us told us that our
pursuers were dangerously near.
It
seemed an age before the last man leaped into the hole, followed quickly by
Lotar and me.
Stooping
down, the young mojak pressed a lever in the floor. The pillar started
downward, the direction of its turning reversed, and soon we stood in total
darkness. Judging from the sounds above, the thing had been accomplished just
in time. The large party of guards above clattered on past
without even stopping to investigate.
"They
do not suspect," said Lotar, "which is well. It may be that we shall
want to pass this way again. Come, I will lead the way."
As
none of us had the means to make a light, we moved forward like blind men,
following the voice of Lotar, who seemed to know the way by heart. "A
steep slope ahead," he would sing out, or, "A sharp turn here. Look
out for it." We followed him in the inky blackness.
The
tunnel had apparently been hewn through the rock stratum that underlay this
part of Olba. How it was ventilated I had no means of knowing, but though the
air was cool and moist it seemed quite fresh.
When
we had traveled for more than an hour in this fashion, I asked Lotar how much
farther we had to go.
"We
are but a third of the way, Highness," he responded. "This tunnel
leads to the Black Tower."
"And whom do you expect to find in the
Black Tower?"
"Friends. It is hardly likely that Taliboz has manned it with his henchmen so
soon, but even if he has, some of us are armed, and we have the advantage of
surprise on our side."
"Unless,"
I observed, "he discovers that we have come this way and sets a trap for
us."
"It
is not likely. The guards in the dungeon were completely baffled. By now I
doubt not that the traitorous Tali-boz is exceedingly mystified and furiously
angry."
It
was nearly ten Earth miles from the Imperial Palace to the Black Tower, so
that, traveling blindly as we were, it took us more than three and a half hours
to make the trip.
When
we reached our destination, Lotar cautioned silence and groped about in the
darkness for some time. Then I heard the click of a lever and the turning of a
cylinder, and presently a circle of light appeared above our heads—most welcome
after three and a half hours of intense darkness.
Gripping
the edge of the floor, Lotar drew himself up and peered cautiously about.
Evidently satisfied that he was unobserved, he clambered on out of the hole,
beckoning to us to follow. It was not long before we had our entire company
lined up in a large room, the ceiling of which was supported by pillars similar
to the one which had been raised to let us in. Lotar then pressed the hidden
button that started the pillar rotating in the opposite direction, and watched
it turn back into place, leaving no sign of the way by which we had come.
There
were three windows in the room through which the first faint streaks of dawn
were visible. There were also three doors. Lotar slowly and. carefully opened
one of these. But scarcely had he looked out ere a sharp challenge was hurled
at him from the corridor.
"Move and you diel Who are you?"
"Lotar,
Mojak in the Imperial Air Navy," replied the young officer.
"What do you
here?"
"That,"
replied Lotar, "I will tell your mojak if you will fetch him. Who is in command
here?"
"Pasuki commands," replied the
guard.
"A
good and loyal soldier. Take me before him."
He
motioned with his hand for us to remain in the room. Then he stepped out,
.closing the door after him. Evidently the guard had not the slightest suspicion
of our presence.
Not
more than ten minutes elapsed ere the door opened once more and Lotar entered,
followed by a tall, straight, white-bearded man who wore the uniform of Mojak
of the Black Tower Guards, easily distinguished by the small replica of the
tower worn on the helmet and the same device in relief on the breastplate.
The
old soldier bowed low with right hand extended palm downward.
"Pasuki
is yours to command as of old, Highness," he said, "and overjoyed
that the report of Your Highness's death was false."
I
did not, of course, remember Pasuki, but it was quite evident that he
remembered the former Zinlo. "You were ever a true and loyal soldier,
Pasuki," I -replied. "See that these men I have brought with me are
fed, housed and armed."
After
a brief order for the disposal of Lotar's men to a mojo who waited outside, Pasuki conducted us to the tele-kinetic
elevator and by, it to my apartments.
"I'll
send for you men soon," I told them. "Meanwhile we must try to devise
some plan of attack on this wily Taliboz, and find a way to rescue Her Highness
of Tyrhana."
Pasuki and Lotar bowed low
and withdrew.
After
a bath and a change of clothing, I was served with the usual huge and
variegated breakfast with which Zaro-vian royalty tempts its appetite, to the
accompaniment of gold service and scarlet napery.
But
ere I had completed this meal, a page came to announce that a man who had just been admitted to the tower, craved
immediate audience with me. "Who is he?" I asked.
"He
gave the name of Vorvan to Pasuki, who questioned him, and seemed satisfied of
his loyalty," replied the page.
"Then
show him in," I answered. The name Vorvan had a familiar ring, and I was
trying to remember where I had heard it before when a man clad in the
conventional blue garb of a tradesman entered.
He
appeared about fifty years of age, and his square-cut beard had an unnatural
reddish tinge, as if it had been dyed. His eyebrows were similarly treated, and
a bandage was drawn across one cheek and the bridge of the nose, as if he had
been recently wounded. I could not remember ever having seen the man before,
yet there was something about him that was strangely familiar.
He bowed low, right hand
extended palm downward.
"I
have a message for Your Highness's ears alone," he said, with a
significant look at the three men who were serving my breakfast.
"Won't you have some
breakfast?" I asked.
"With
Your Highness's leave I will decline, as 1 have already
breakfasted. There is much to be done, and time presses." Again he glanced
impatiently at the servants.
With a wave of my hand, I
dismissed them.
"The
page told me you gave the name of Vorvan," I said when they were gone.
"Both the name and yourself seem somehow vaguely
familiar, yet I cannot remember having heard it, nor having seen you
before."
"Then
my disguise must be effective, Highness," he answered, with a smile which
was also familiar. "I am Vom Vangal."
The
smile and the name instantly brought a flood of recollections. This was indeed
Vom Vangal, the man who had arranged with Dr. Morgan to bring me to Venus—Vom
Vangal, the great nobleman, scientist and psychologist of Olba— the man who
had welcomed me to Venus with the identical smile he was now wearing.
But at that time he had been attired in the
purple and the glittering bejeweled panoply of a great noble, and his beard and
hair had been iron gray. A bit of dye, a bandage, and the clothing of a tradesman
had wrought vast change in his appearance.
"I'll
try to answer Your Highness's questions in due order," Vorn Vangal said.
"I returned from Reabon one week after I left you in the Black Tower,
expecting to find you here, safe and sound. You may imagine my astonishment
when I learned that you and Taliboz had disappeared, that your guards had been
slain, and that a number of dead henchmen of Taliboz had been found here.
"I
immediately established telepathic communication with Dr. Morgan who was to
keep in constant rapport with you, and from him I learned what had
happened to you. Then I went to Torrogo Hadjez and persuaded him to
patrol the area where it might be expected that you would be found. You were
moving about so much that it was impossible for the airships to find you in any
specific location I might name. Part of the time you didn't know where you
were, hence your subjective mind could not inform Dr. Morgan, and through him,
me.
"Of
course I knew the report of Taliboz was a lie when he said you had been killed,
but I did not dare to so inform Torrogo Hadjez. He would have demanded to know
the source of my knowledge, which would have forced me to disclose the fact
that his son was on your world and you were taking his place here.
"I
decided to personally conduct a search for you in an aerial battleship, and
Torrogo Hadjez provided me with one for the purpose, but we encountered a
terrific storm before we had gone far, and the ship was forced to land,
hopelessly crippled, near the Olba-Adonijar border. I immediately took a motor
vehicle back to Olba, but was placed under arrest as soon as I entered the city
gates, for Torrogo Hadjez had been assassinated and Taliboz was on the throne.
"He
condemned me to die as a traitor, and confiscated my city palace as well as my
lands, estates and treasure. With the aid of a few faithful friends, I managed
to escape before his sentence could be carried out, disguised myself as a
tradesman, and came here, having learned through Dr. Morgan that this was where
you were to be found."
"And
now," I asked, "have you any plans for rescuing the Princess Loralie
and disposing of Taliboz?"
"The
only method I can think of will be a bloody revolution. Most of the men who
garrison the palace and the city are men of the usurper. The men who previously
filled these ranks have been sent to work on and guard the private estates of
Taliboz, far to the north of Olba. If we were to proclaim your return, Taliboz would immediately denounce you as an
impostor, a price would be placed on your head, and you would be hunted by
every military man under his command.
"The
best way, I believe, will be for you to remain here until I can arouse the
patriotic citizens of Olba, secretly telling them of your presence here. You
can then come to Olba in disguise, and we can make a concerted
effort to capture the palace and do away with the traitor who sits on the
throne."
"But
that will take considerable time," I said, "and in the meantime, what
of Loralie?"
This
question went unanswered, for at this moment one of my guards entered with the
statement that Pasuki and Lotar craved immediate audience as they had a
communication of the utmost importance.
"Admit them," I
said.
Both
saluted hurriedly as they came in, and seemed greatly agitated. "Your
Highness's presence here has been discovered," said Lotar. "We must
get you away at once,"
"I am sorry to inform you that there
must have been a traitor among my men," said Pasuki, "planted there,
no doubt, by Taliboz to spy on my doings. One of my faithful servants, however,
was watching Taliboz, and has dispatched a messenger to me with the information
that the usurper has mobilized an army of five thousand men who are already
marching on the Black Tower."
CHAPTER XV
As I
sat facing the three men, Pasuki, Lotar, and Vom Vangal, all faithful to me,
but with no plans for meeting the emergency created by the advance of the army
which was ten times the strength of the garrison of the Black Tower, an idea
came to me.
"Will Taliboz accompany
the army, Pasuki?" I asked.
"It is probable,
Highness, but I cannot be certain."
"How
many men in your garrison?"
"Four
hundred and fifty, not counting Lotar's fifty. We could not hold the tower long
against the attack of five thousand. It is best that we disband the garrison
and make our escape in the flyers on the roof of the tower. There are two
there, each of which will carry two men."
"But what of the princess? If you men and your followers are willing to
fight both for her and for me, I have a plan—a precarious one, but possible of
execution—for saving her and dethroning Taliboz."
They pledged their loyalty.
"Very
well," I said. "Prepare, then, all of you, to obey my orders without
question. They may seem strange to you, but if they do, remember that they are
designed to outwit Taliboz. You, Pasuki, will prepare for the defense of the
Black Tower at once with all your mattorks and men. You, Lotar, will keep your
men armed and ready for my call, but out of sight. See that every one of them is provided with a portable light, and that there are several extra lights. Vom Vangal will
remain at my side for the present."
The
two men hurried away to carry out my commands, and I leisurely finished my
breakfast, while Vorn Vangal kept anxious watch out the window.
"They
draw near, Highness," he said excitedly, "and Taliboz is with them,
for I see the personal standard of the Torrogo in
their midst."
"Good."
I went to the window. Taliboz was bringing up a mighty host indeed, compared to our small garrison. When they .were
within a thousand yards of the walls that surrounded the tower, they deployed
to the right and left. A man bearing a banner on which was written in large
letters the Zarovian word "dua"—which, under the circumstances meant,
"a truce"—left the ranks and marched toward the main gate of the
tower wall.
"A herald," said Vorn Vangal.
"Taliboz would treat with us." "Let us go to the top of the
tower." We quickly took a telekinetic elevator. "We are completely
surrounded now," said Vorn Vangal. "There will be no escape/. Even if
we were to try to get away in the airships we should immediately be shot down by their mattork crews."
"We are not yet ready to attempt an
escape." The herald stopped near the gates and shouted a command to
Pasuki to deliver to His Imperial Majesty, Taliboz of Olba, "the
usurper who calls himself Zinlo of Olba." He offered a free pardon to
Pasuki and his men.
"You
will return to His Majesty," replied Pasuki, "our regrets that we
are unable to comply with his order, as we have no usurper in the Black
Tower."
"Who
is that man in scarlet I see standing on the roof of the topmost segment?"
demanded the herald. "If that be not Zinlo of Olba . . ." He checked
himself, then continued, "If that be not the usurper who calls himself Zinlo
of Olba, who is hep"
"He
is Zinlo of Olba. Tell that to your traitorous master, and bid him come and
bend the knee to the man whose throne he has stolen." Turning
contemptuously, Pasuki walked away from the parapet.
"Pasuki
has played his part well," I informed Vorn Vangal. "Now, remove your
disguise; if possible get rid of that villainous-looking hair dye; array your
self in the purple that suits your true station, and then report to me in my
apartments."
"I
will carry out Your Highness's commands at once," replied Vorn Vangal, and
hurried to the elevator.
I
watched the herald as he picked his way through the encircling army to a point
some distance behind it where a man stood, garbed in the royal scarlet,
surrounded by officers and courtiers. I knew that he must be Taliboz.
Scarcely
had the herald bowed before him ere he sent a number of officers scurrying
toward the front lines. A mat-tork spoke. The shell went screaming past the
tower only a few feet from my head. A second shell exploded near me, tearing
away part of the battlement.
As
our mattorks replied, a general bombardment started, and the soldiers of the
encircling army took advantage of natural cover when it was to be had, or threw
themselves flat and dug in. I judged that they planned to bombard the tower
before attempting to storm it.
Shells
were rattling like hail against the upper battlements when I took the elevator
and descended to my apartments. Here I found Vorn Vangal, once more the great
Olban noble I had first seen.
Together
we entered the elevator once more and descended to the fifth underground
level, where Lotar's men were mobilized. The young mojak saluted and then stood
awaiting my orders. Even at this depth the thunderous sounds of the battle came faintly from
above, and I could see that both men and commander longed,
even as did I, to be in the thick of it. But I had other work for all, which
might prove as exciting and far more dangerous.
"Have you the lights,
LotarP" I asked.
"Every
man has been provided with a light, and there are several to spare,
Highness."
"Then
give one each to Vom Vangal and me, and we will start for the palace at once,
the way we came. Hurry!"
Lotar
quickly handed us a light each, and then led us to the pillar from beneath
which we had entered the Black Tower. I led the way into the pit beneath it as
soon as it was raised, closely followed by Vorn Vangal, and leaving Lotar to
close the entrance and bring up the rear.
Traveling
with lights, it was easy to maintain a pace much faster than our previous one
when we had walked in total darkness.
"How
many guards do you think there will be in the palace?" I asked Vom Vangal
as he jogged along beside me.
"Normally
there are a thousand constantly on duty in the palace and grounds. However, it
may be that Taliboz has taken some of these with him in order to fill the ranks
of his hastily organized army. If this is the case, he may have left two or
three hundred, perhaps five hundred men."
"Whether
there be two hundred or a thousand, we must take the
palace," I said. "In either case we will be tremendously
outnumbered, but we have the advantage of surprise in our favor."
When
we reached the palace, I called a halt to give the men a rest, and passed back
word for Lotar to come up.
As
soon as he joined us, I told him my plans for taking the palace. Then I pulled
the lever which operated the pillar above us, and we all snapped off our
lights.
When
the pillar was high enough I drew myself up and peered over the edge of the
floor through the dim light of the dungeon. Only one guard was in sight, and he was walking away from
me. Silently I threw a knee over the edge, stood erect, and signed for the
others to follow me. When every man was out, Lotar pressed the hidden button
which closed the wall.
At
the suggestion of Vorn Vangal, our torks were loaded with the projectiles which
paralyze for several hours but do not kill unless they happen to strike a vital
spot. By using these bullets we could render our opponents helpless without
actually killing them, and would not be bothered with guarding prisoners.
As
Vom Vangal had surmised, Taliboz had taken a number of the palace guards with
him when he started for the Black Tower. We found only one man patrolling the
corridors of the level we were on, and he was quickly put out of the way. On
the next level we found two guards, and on each of the three dungeon levels
above it, two. Although they were not taken completely by surprise, having
heard our shots, they were easily overcome.
On
the ground level, Lotar took twenty men and started out in one direction while
his lieutenant took another twenty and went in the opposite direction. With the
ten remaining men, Vorn Vangal and I took an elevator to the roof.
Here
we found only a dozen men on guard, and quickly shot down all but one, who
surrendered in terror, for he did not know that we were not using the deadly
bullets in our torks. There were six aerial battleships on the roof but crews
in none of them. I also noticed several small, one-man airships. One of these
suddenly rose and started for the Black Tower, but Vorn Vangal leaped to a
mattork and shot it down. It crashed in one of the busiest streets of Olba,
drawing a great crowd and halting traffic.
Quickly
searching the other airships, we found them untenanted.
By questioning the man we
had captured, we found that
Vinzeth,
Mojak of the Palace Guards, had ordered most of his men to the dungeon, and had
gone there himself to direct the fighting.
"Now,
Vorn Vangal," I said when we were in control of the roof, "do you
think that by spreading the knowledge of my return in Olba you can get us a few
more fighting men?"
"I
can raise a vast army, and that quickly. They may not
all be trained soldiers, but every male Olban knows how to use a tork and
scarbo."
"Then
you will remain here in charge of the roof, retaining five men at all time? to defend the stairway. The other five you may use as
messengers to summon your friends. As all these men are from an aerial
battleship, I assume that they know how to handle the small airships."
"They do,"
replied Vangal.
I
then sent for the prisoner. When he was brought before me I asked him where the
Princess of Tyrhana was imprisoned.
"I do not know, Your
Highness," he replied.
"Have a care hew you
lie to me," I warned him.'
"I swear it, Highness.
I have no idea of her whereabouts."
"Cling
to your falsehood, knavel We shall see if it will sustain
you in mid-air. Pitch him over the battlements, men."
The
two warriors who had brought him immediately began dragging him toward the
battlements. He struggled unsuccessfully to break away from them, feet
threshing, eyes rolling in terror.
"Wait!" he
shrieked. "I know! I will tell!"
"Bring
him back," I ordered. "He shall have another chance."
Once
more they brought him before me, this time trembling with terror and
thoroughly cowed.
"Speak," I said.
"And tell the truth this time."
"Her
Highness has apartments on the floor just beneath us," he said
quaveringly. "The last floor at which the elevators
stop."
"And how is she
guarded?"
Two
men guard her door, and she has two female attendants."
I
did not wait to hear more but dashed down the stairway. After traversing
several corridors, I saw two guards standing before a door draped with scarlet,
and knew I had the right place. One of the guards saw me as soon as I saw him,
and our torks spoke in unison. His bullet struck my sword hilt, but mine
stretched him, unconscious, on the floor. The other guard wheeled just in time
to receive my second bullet and share the fate of his companion.
Rushing
up to the doorway, I ripped aside the scarlet drape and tried to open the door,
but it was locked. I quickly searched both fallen guards but could find no keys
in the belt pouches of either.
Arising, I rapped loudly
and called the name of Loralie.
A
woman's voice answered me from within. It was the voice of my princess.
"Who is there?"
"It is I, Zinlo,"
I replied. "Open the door, quickly."
"Zinlo,
belovedl" she answered. "I had almost lost hope of your coming. But I
cannot open the door. It was locked from the outside, and we have no keys in
here."
"Then I'll break it
down," I answered. "Stand away from it."
Backing
across the corridor, I ran at the door, hurling my body against it, but it was
sturdily fashioned from thick planks of tough serali wood, and my sole reward
for my onslaught against it was a bruised shoulder.
Again
and again I hurled myself against it with the same result
Then
I whipped out my scarbo, resolved to hew my way through it, when I suddenly
heard the sound of men running
behind me. Wheeling, I
beheld the brutal, leering features of Vinzeth. Behind him came a dozen palace
guardsmen. I reached for my tork, but before my hand touched it, his spoke.
There was a soaring pain in my already bruised shoulder, a dizzy nausea swept
over me, and all went black before my eyes.
When I regained consciousness after being
shot down by Vinzeth, I had a furious headache, a terrific pain in my shoulder,
and a tremendous thirst, I was lying on a mattress on the roof, with Vorn
Vangal bending over me, holding a phial of some pungent liquid beneath my
nostrils. Lotar was standing near by.
"Where is
Loralie?" asked. "Have you
rescued her?"
"Here,
drink this," said Vom Vangal, removing the phial from beneath my nostrils
and holding a steaming bowl to my lips. "Then I will tell you." I
recognized the fragrant aromatic smell of kova, and drank deeply. The hot, stimulating
beverage sent the blood coursing warmly through my veins.
When
I had drunk, Vorn Vangal said, "Lotar and his men not only conquered the
guards stationed on every floor they came to, but defeated the fifty guards
which Vinzeth took down from the roof to oppose them, driving them upward from
floor to floor until only a dozen remained with their mojak. Evidently
intending to get the princess and escape in one of the airships, Vinzeth
retreated with his twelve men while Lotar was conquering the guards posted on
the floor that is second from the top. This took only a short time, but when
Lotar reached the top floor he saw Vinzeth standing over you with a scarbo,
ready to give you the death blow.
"He
instandy opened fire, whereupon Vinzeth transferred his attention from you to
the only avenue of escape left to him—the door to the apartments of the
princess. With a key from his belt pouch he succeeded in opening it and getting
inside with two of his men. The others were shot down by Lotar and his warriors.
"Finding
you were not dead, but only temporarily paralyzed, Lotar had you brought up to
the roof by two of his men, and with the others who were with him, demanded
that Vinzeth surrender and give up the princess. But Vinzeth refused to
surrender, and swore that if the door were broken down the princess should be
instantly slain." "How long ago was this?"
"It
occurred about three hours ago. The effect of the narcotic in the tork bullets
lasts about that long."
"And she is still in
there with him?" I asked, sitting up.
"What
could we do, Highness? We have surrounded the room, but if we break in she will
undoubtedly be slain. Vinzeth is a desperate character."
"You
are right. We must find some way to outwit this Vinzeth*
"We
have not been unsuccessful in other ways," said Vorn Vangal. "Already
I have raised a citizen army of twenty thousand men, and more volunteers pour
into our ranks constantly. The city is in the hands of the loyal commanders I
have appointed, and a thousand men who are trustworthy guard the palace from
roof to dungeons."
"What
about Pasuki in the Black Tower? I had intended to have you send him
reenforcements by way of the tunnel as soon as you could get them, but forgot
it."
"In
this I acted without Your Highness's command, guessing your intentions,"
said Vorn Vangal. "Five thousand men have already traveled to the relief
of Pasuki through the tunnel. When all get there, his men will outnumber those
of Taliboz. And they will have a decided advantage any time he decides to storm
the tower. The twenty thousand citizen troops are mobilized near the south
gate, awaiting your orders."
Just
as he finished speaking a small, one-man flyer alighted on the roof. The man
who stepped out looked around him for a moment, then espying our group, ran toward
us.
"I
have just come from Tureno," he announced. "A mighty battle fleet is
in the harbor—the fleet of Tyrhana. And in the flagship rides Ad, Torrogo of
Tyrhana, who demands that his daughter be delivered to him safe and sound, or
he will immediately reduce Tureno and march on Olba.
With him, also, are two ships, in one of which is Prince Gadrimel of Adonijar.
He threatens an immediate declaration of war by his nation if his cousin, the
Princess of Tyrhana, be not immediately returned unharmed to her imperial
sire."
"Never
mind Prince Gadrimel," I told the messenger, "but fly at once to the
flagship of Torrogo Ad. Tell him that his daughter has been kidnaped by one of
the mojaks of Taliboz, and we are trying to rescue her. Tell him further that
if he cares to, he is welcome to land his army in Tureno, and that such
citizens of Tureno as are available and can bear arms will march with him and
assist him if he is bent on attacking the army of the man who abducted his
daughter and usurped the throne of Olba."
The messenger made
obeisance and departed.
I
turned to Vorn Vangal. "Send another messenger at once to the King of
Tureno. Tell him it is my command that he permit the soldiers of Tyrhana to
land, and that he send as many men with them as he can gather to fight Taliboz.
You will then go yourself and take command of the citizen army that waits at
the south gate of the city, starting immediately for the Black Tower and
surrounding the army of Taliboz, if possible."
Vorn
Vangal hurried away to carry out my orders, and I
swung on Lotar. "By looking over the battlements, can you point out the
windows of the room in which Her Highness is confined?"
"Yes,
Highness."
"First
send for a long, strong rope," I commanded. "Then show me the
windows—and be sure you make no mistake."
He
sent a man scurrying for a rope and then went to the parapet and leaned over. I leaned over with him and he pointed downward.
"That window," he said, indicating
one almost directly beneath us, "opens on the reception room of her
apartment. The one to the left opens on her bedroom, the right on her
bath."
At the sound of footsteps behind us we
turned. Two soldiers bearing a large coil of stout rope saluted.
"Put
down the rope," I ordered. "Now you, Lotar, go down in front of the
door of the princess's apartment. Make a great noise, demand the release of the
prisoner, and engage Vinzeth in an argument if you can. Don't do anything
until you hear a commotion inside, or until I call you. Then break down the
door."
With
a quiet smile, which showed his full comprehension of my plan, Lotar hurried
down the stairway.
Making
a tight loop in the end of the rope, I brought it over the parapet at a position directly above the window which opened on
Loralie's bedroom. Then, telling the two soldiers to let me down until I held
out one hand for them to stop, I swung over the battlement, and with one foot
in the loop and both hands gripping the rope, was swiftly and silently lowered.
As soon as I was opposite the window, I signaled the men to cease lowering me.
Because of the projection of the battlements, I hung about three feet from the
window ledge. Below me was a sheer drop of about a hundred feet to the balcony
roof of the next segment.
Gripping
the rope with both hands, I worked it as a child works a swing until it began
to move back and forth, first toward, then away from the window ledge. Nearer
and nearer it swung until I was finally able to hook a foot over the ledge and
draw myself inside. Cautiously dropping to the floor, I found the room deserted
and the door closed. From beyond the door came men's voices raised in altercation.
Scarbo
in hand, I tiptoed to the door and gently opened it a little way. Standing near the large central window, but looking toward
the entrance to the corridor, were Loralie and her two handmaidens. Just in
front of them, and also facing the door, were Vinzeth and his two men.
I
had no idea whether the two maids with Loralie were friendly to my cause or to
that of Taliboz, but I took a chance, and, reaching out, touched the arm of the
one nearest me, then held my finger to my lips for silence. She started and
gave a little cry of fear which caused me to snatch at my tork, but it went
unnoticed by the three men because of the clamor in the corridor.
Motioning
the girl into the bedroom, I touched her companion in a like manner, and also
succeeded in getting her out of the way without noise. I then touched Loralie
lightly on the shoulder. She swung on me, a furious look in her eyes, but it
was instantly replaced by one of infinite tenderness when she recognized me.
She went with me quickly enough into the bedroom, but when I started out again
she threw her arms around my neck to detain me.
"Don't
go, please," she whispered. "They will kill you. Close the door and
stay in here."
I smiled, kissed her, and
pushed her away.
"Lock
the door after me," I said in a whisper. "In case I lose the fight,
Lotar will break in from the corridor before Vinzeth can harm you."
Then
I stepped out and softly closed the door after me. At this
instant one of the men, turned, facing me. For a moment he stared
incredulously; then he reached for his tork. But mine was already leveled at
him, and I fired.
At
the sound of the shot, Vinzeth and the other ruffian swung about. I shot the
latter, but the mojak of Taliboz was too quick for me. Without pausing to draw
a weapon, he sprang in so close that I was unable to use mine, and we went down
in a heap, kicking, clawing, striking and gouging each other like a pair of
wild animals.
The corridor door, meanwhile, was splintering
from thunderous blows on its exterior. Although the thick serali planking was
exceedingly tough, it was evident that it could not much longer withstand the
terrific assault. Lotar had evidently found something that made an efficient
battering ram.
All
this came to me subconsciously as I fought, for I was too busy with my powerful
and wily antagonist to think of anything else. Back and forth we struggled,
rolling over and over, crashing against furniture and pulling down hangings,
each man kept so occupied by the other that he was unable to use a weapon.
Presently
I managed to get a short arm jolt to Vinzeth's jaw, which partly dazed him, and
was about to repeat the process when he suddenly caught me in the solar plexus
with his knee. With the wind completely knocked out of me, I sank, gasping, to
the floor.
He
uttered a yell of triumph, and whipping out his scarbo, swung it aloft with the
evident intention of splitting my skull.
But
ere he could bring it down, there was a final, rending crash from the corridor
doorway, followed by the cracking of a tork. With a look of horrified unbelief
on his features, Vinzeth dropped his scarbo and pitched forward on his face,
his body lying across me.
Lotar
quickly dragged him off me, and flung him into the corner as if he had been a
sack of grain. I sat up but was unable to talk.
When
I regained my speech I called to Loralie, telling her that it was now safe to
open the door. Recognizing my voice, she came out and knelt beside me, pulling
my head down on her breast and asking me where I was wounded.
But
I reassured her, and a moment later, having managed to regain my breath, I
stood up. "Man one of the aerial battleships at once, Lotar," I said.
"We're going to pay our respects to Taliboz."
While we waited for Lotar to get the ship
ready for flight,
Loralie
and I stood on the palace roof, looking toward the Black Tower.
Lotar
sent us each a glass, and with the aid of these, we could watch what was
transpiring.
The
citizens' army which had started out from Olba was now less than two miles from
the tower and spread out in an immense crescent. Marching from Tureno, and
almost as close to the besieged tower, was an army almost as large as that of
Olba, deployed in the same manner. On account of his low position and the
rolling formation of the ground, Taliboz had not yet seen his approaching
enemies. His men, who had evidendy been previously repulsed, judging from the
bodies that lay before the wall, were forming for a new assault on the Black
Tower.
We
were watching the horns of the two crescents draw together when Lotar called to
me, "The ship is ready, Highness."
CHAPTER XVI
Loralie and I boarded the aerial battleship. It was the
same one that had rescued us from the killer norgal and brought us to Olba,
manned in part by the same crew, and commanded by Lotar.
By my command he piloted the ship to a point
directly above the Black Tower, and hovered there. The armies from the north
and south had, by this time, completed their encircling movement and were
rapidly closing in on the unsuspecting army of Taliboz.
Zinlo of Olba, to Taliboz:
You are surrounded by an army of forty thousand warriors. As the Black Tower is garrisoned with five thousand men, you cannot hope to take it.
You have your choice of unconditional surrender or annihilation. If you surrender, lay down your arms and raise the "dud' pennon. If not, you alone are responsible for what will follow.
ZINLO
Rolling it up and weighting it with an empty
tork clip, I hurled it down at the spot where the Imperial
Standard of Olba fluttered in the wind.
With
the aid of my glass I watched its flight downward, and saw it fall near one of
the officers, who carried it to his commander.
Unrolling
it, Taliboz read it, then passed it to the man nearest
him. Upon careful scrutiny with the glass, I saw the man was Maribo, his prime
minister. After the latter had read it, the two engaged in a lengthy argument
in which several of the others joined.
I
judged from their attitudes that the other officers sided with Maribo, and that
Taliboz stood alone in whatever decision he had made. While the argument was
going on, the first skirmish line of the encircling army opened fire.
Suddenly
wheeling and walking away from Maribo and the others, I saw Taliboz shout
something to a mattork crew and point toward our ship. A moment later a shell
screamed past me. This was his answer.
A
gunner in our forward turret promptly replied, wiping out the crew of the
mattork from which the shot had been fired.
But
Maribo and the other officers apparently did not approve of the way Taliboz had
replied to our missive. With positive defeat staring them in the face, they
appeared to be united in favor of immediate surrender. At least they did not
interfere with Maribo when he ran up behind Taliboz just as the traitor was
ordering another gun crew to fire on us, and deliberately stabbed him in the
back.
Scarcely had the stricken traitor sunk to the
ground ere Maribo gave an order to the standard bearer. Instantly the banner of
Taliboz was lowered and the pennon of peace raised,
while the shout of "dua" went around the lines. The fighting ceased
almost instantly, and with their weapons on the ground and their hands clasped
behind their heads in token of submission, the warriors who had set out so confidently
that morning to reduce the Black Tower, were taken prisoners.
"Now
that they have surrendered," said Loralie anxiously, "can't we go and
see my poor father?"
"We'll
get him and take him to the palace at once. I want him to be my guest as long
as he cares to stay."
"And
I want you to ask him something just as soon as you get a chance," she
said with a meaning smile. "Remember Cousin Gadrimel is with him. He is
very fond of my cousin."
We
flew southward to where the standards of the Torrogo of Tyrhana, the Torrogi of
Adonijar, and my Rogo of Tureno fluttered in the breeze, then descended.
As
Loralie and I got down from the ship, three men came to meet us. All wore the
scarlet of royalty. The foremost I recognized instantly by his mincing gait as
Prince Gadrimel. The other two I did not know except by their insignia.
Loralie
flung herself into the arms of the taller of the two, a straight,
athletic-appearing monarch with snapping brown eyes and a square cut, jet black
beard. I judged him to be about forty years of age.
"Father!" she
cried joyously.
He
kissed her hungrily, then held her away from him,
looking her over from head to foot. "My little girl.
I can scarcely believe it is you, alive and well. Rather had I lost my empire
and my life than that harm had come to you."
"This
is Zinlo of Olba, Father," she said, indicating me. "Prince Zinlo, my
father, Torrogo Ad of Tyrhana."
"You have placed me deeply in your debt
by bringing my daughter to be unharmed," said Ad.
"Had
there been a debt, Your Majesty," I replied, "it would have been
canceled long ago by the pleasure of Her Highness's company."
Gadrimel
came up and bowed formally, muttering something about being grateful to me for
having rescued his dear cousin and fiancee. The other in scarlet was the Rogo
of Tureno.
I asked
that he arrange for the entertainment of all soldiers and sailors of Adonijar
and Tyrhana, in his city, at the expense of the Imperial Government of Olba.
Ad
and Gadrimel then got aboard with us. We flew to the Black Tower, where we took
Pasuki on board, and to the headquarters of the citizens' army, where we picked
up Vom Vangal. Then we flew to the palace.
When
quarters had been assigned to our guests, Vom Vangal enthusiastically undertook
the task of supervising preparations for a great feast to be held that evening.
I met my guests in the imperial reception room, where I ordered kova served.
Gadrimel
was so attentive to Loralie that I scarcely had an opportunity to speak to her.
So I called her father out on the balcony, told him I loved Princess Loralie,
and asked him for her hand in marriage.
Ad
looked astonished. "Beard of my grandfather!" he thundered.
"What's this you say? Her hand in marriage? Is it
possible that you are not aware that she is to marry her cousin Gadrimel?"
"I
knew that she was betrothed to Gadrimel against her will," I replied,
"but that does not stop us from loving each other."
"From loving each other! Loralie—come here, child." He added,
"Excuse us a moment, Gadrimel."
Loralie came out through the window, visibly
a little frightened at his tone.
"I
hope," he said gravely, when she stood before him, "that you will
deny, once and for all, that you love His Highness of Olba. You know my wishes
with regard to Gadrimel!"
For
a moment she hung her head, but for a moment only. Then she raised it proudly,
and with tears brimming in her glorious eyes answered, "Father, I love
him, and have told him so."
On the dark brows of Ad a
storm of anger was gathering.
"By
the blood and bones of Thorth!" he roared. "Do you thus defy me—me,
your father? You ingrate! I swear by my head and beard that I'll wed you to
Gadrimel at once and take you to Adonijar."
"Father,
pleasel" Great tears were streaming down her
cheeks now.
"Your
Highness," Ad said to me shortly, "you will confer a favor on me by leaving us."
I
bowed and departed, striving to conceal my bitter disappointment as I entered
the room where we had left Gadrimel. The prince had a most unwonted grin on
his effeminate face, and I had no doubt but that he had been listening a
moment before at the window.
He
instantly began a lisping chatter about our many adventures together, and his
own heroic exploits after we had parted company in the fern-forest.
At
intervals when he stopped talking long enough to sip his kova I could hear the
sobbing of Loralie on the balcony and the rumbling voice of her father.
Suddenly Ad appeared to lose his temper again, for he roared, "He did, did
he? Why, of all the . . ."
He
strode to the window, his face a thundercloud of wrath. Loralie hurried after
him. I leaped to my feet, expecting physical violence.
But he did not even look at me. Instead, he
walked to where Gadrimel was sitting and, seizing him by the scruff of the
neck, jerked him erect.
"You insolent cub!" he roared,
shaking the prince until his teeth rattled and his eyes nearly popped from his
head. "You mincing, lisping, addle-headed popinjay!
So you would abduct my daughter and force her to marry you! Lucky it is for
you that I am constrained to remember you are the son of my sister. Were it not
for that I should wring your neck and hurl you from the battlements."
"I—ah, ah, you're
choking me," gasped the prince.
"Did
you think I was fondling you, you wretch?" thundered the Emperor of
Tyrhana, and shot the princeling through the window by applying his toe to the
youth's center of gravity. Nor did he return, but slunk away through another
room.
A
look of serenity gradually settled over Ad's clouded brow. "Your Highness,
like all men, I sometimes change my mind."
"It is a mark of greatness," I replied,
bowing. "Tonight at dinner, my children, I will announce your
betrothal."
Before
either of us could reply a guard entered and announced that Vorn VangaL Pasuki
and Lotar craved immediate audience.
"If
Your Highness can spare a moment to the people," said Vangal, "please
be so good as to show yourself on the balcony."
"What is up?" I
asked.
"A
little technicality to be cleared up," he answered. "Taliboz was only
wounded and not killed as we thought. He has escaped. Under the law he is still
Torrogo of Olba because he has been legally so acclaimed, thus taking precedence
over your otherwise perfectly legal succession to the throne. Knowing all the
circumstances the people of Olba now wish to acclaim you Emperor, so there will
be no complications hereafter."
I
walked to the balcony. The palace grounds were thronged with a close-packed,
surging populace. The streets were jammed with people, and every window ledge,
balcony, housetop and wall in sight was packed.
As
soon as I appeared above the battlements a hundred
thousand scarbos flashed aloft in the hands of the men, and a hundred thousand white scarves were waved above the mighty sea of
humanity by the women and girls. A great cheer rose, swelling in volume until
it seemed that it must shake the very palace.
"Hail Zinlo, Torrogo
of Olba!"
I
bowed in acknowledgment of this tremendous ovation, whereupon every voice was
suddenly stilled.
"I
thank you, my people," I shouted down to them. "I will ever strive
faithfully to fulfill the trust you have placed in
_ »
me.
Once
more the scarves and scarbos flashed aloft. Once more a thunderous cheer rolled
up. Bowing, I returned to the room and the congratulations of my friends.
With
the deepest satisfaction I appointed Vom Vangal prime minister, and gave the
command of army and aerial forces to Pasuki and Lotar. My three loyal friends
made obeisance and departed, leaving Loralie, Ad and myself alone.
"Sine
you have made so free with your favors, Your
Majesty," smiled Loralie, "what have you left for me? Am I not also to be honored?"
"Why,
yes," I answered, as, unmindful of her father's presence, her arms went
around my neck. "As soon as you grant me leave, I'll make you Torroga,
Empress of Olba."
"It's
the highest honor an empire can bestow," laughed Ad, "for be he in
palace or hovel a man is ever subject to the sweet will of his wife."
"Agreed," I replied. "And now, little wife to be, what is your pleasure?"
"If
you were not so busy talking nonsense to Father," she pouted, "you
would see that I have been waiting for you to kiss me."
Thus
ends the tale of Borgen
Takkor s adventures on Venus, up to the time that he was securely established
as Zinlo, Torrogo of Olba. However, lest the perceptive reader remind me that this security was
precarious at the very least—since Borgen Takkor had merely exchanged
personalities with Zinlo of Venus, who was meanwhile on Earth in the body of
the man known as Harry Thome—let me assure him that I have not forgotten this fact.
Robert
Grandon was in exactly the same position, in Reabon, at the close of his story,
which is told in "The Planet of Peril." Those who have read that
story know that the resolution of Grandon's difficulty in this regard also
solved Borgen Takkor's problem. So I will only mention here that neither
Grandon nor Takkor had to worry about being taken from their wives and thrones
and returned to their Earth bodies; but how this came about you will have to
read the novel mentioned above to discover.
The Author.
If
you enjoyed this book, then why not take a look at these novels by
OTIS ADELBERT KLINE
"The
only author to be compared with Edgar Rice Burroughs, but whose work is as
original as Burroughs' own."
—Vernell Coriell,
The
Burroughs Bibliophiles
D-561
(35(21) THE SWORDSMAN OF MARS
Harry Thorne, American, exchanges bodies with a prince of the Red
Planet, and battles men and monsters for a throne.
D-531
(350) THE OUTLAWS OF MARS
The
best weapons of a haughty empire pit themselves against the skill and daring of
a courageous Earthman and his Martian princess.
F-211
(400) PLANET OF PERIL
Grandon
of Terra shows an Empress of Venus what a he-man can do against a world of
dreaded beasts and barbaric armies.
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F-158 PELLUCIDAR
F-159 THE MOON MEN
F-168 THUVIA, MAID OF MARS
F-169 TARZAN AND THE LOST EMPIRE
F-170 THE CHESSMEN OF MARS
F-171 TANAR OF PELLUCIDAR
F-179 PIRATES OF VENUS
F-180 TARZAN AT THE EARTH'S CORE
F-181 THE MASTERMIND OF MARS
M82 THE MONSTER MEN
F-189 TARZAN THE INVINCIBLE
F-190 A FIGHTING MAN OF MARS
F-193 THE SON OF TARZAN
F-194 TARZAN TRIUMPHANT
F-203 THE BEASTS OF TARZAN
F-204 TARZAN AND THE JEWELS OF OPAR
F-205 TARZAN AND THE CITY OF GOLD
F-206 JUNGLE TALES OF TARZAN
F-212 TARZAN AND THE LION MAN
F-213 THE LAND THAT TIME FORGOT
F-220 THE PEOPLE THAT TIME FORGOT
F-221 LOST ON VENUS
F-232 THE LAND OF HIDDEN MEN
F-233 OUT OF TIME'S ABYSS
F-234 THE ETERNAL SAVAGE
F-235 THE LOST CONTINENT
F-245 BACK TO THE STONE AGE
F-247 CARSON OF VENUS
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When the man who was Harry Thorne on Earth
offered to swap bodies with a native of Venus, it was because he was bored with
comfort and security, and craved excitement. And that was what he got — more
than he would have bargained for —when he found that he had taken over the
assassin-haunted role of a prince of a beleaguered throne in a land of
ferocious beasts and inhuman foemen.
Otis
Adelbert Kline, whose work is often compared to that of Edgar Rice Burroughs,
has created in PRINCE OF PERIL another interplanetary adventure to stand
alongside his fast-selling PLANET OF PERIL and THE SWORDSMAN OF MARS.