DERRING-DO IN A WORLD OF ALIEN DANGERS
Interplanetary adventure in the grand old
style was never better handled than by Otis Adelbert Kline. And in THE OUTLAWS
OF MARS he has written a thrilling novel that will thrill every science-fiction
adventure reader.
Jerry
Morgan, fed up with Earthly frustrations, found plenty to occupy him when he
swapped bodies with a hot-headed Martian from that red planet's era of glory.
For Jerry's first moment there involved him in a costly mistake which was to
throw him into conflict not only with the forces of evil and Mars' many
monsters but also against the trained weapons of a haughty empire!
THE
OUTLAWS OF MARS is out-of-this-world excitement
OTIS ADELBERT KLINE: In Tribute
Edgar Rice Burroughs, creator of Tarzan of
the Apes and John Carter of Barsoom, has never had a peer. He stands
unsurpassed as a master of fantasy-adventure, and so it shall always be.
Yet
there was one who came so close that many consider him to have equalled the
old master himself. He was Otis Adelbert One, superb fantasy author, and
creator of Jan of the Jungle and Grandon of Terra, the Prince of Peril.
Surely
Kline and Burroughs had much in common. They both wrote because they loved to
write, they wrote the same type of stories for more or less the same magazines,
and they probably influenced each other greatly.
In
1933, Kline introduced the readers of Argosy to
Jerry Morgan, the swashbuckling hero of The Outlaws of Mars and it was an instant success. "Excitement, vivid imagination, and
strong human conflicts make up this full-length fantastic novel of an
Earthman's adventures on the Red Planet." So said the editors then and
now, nearly thirty years later, their description is still valid.
—Cajvulle Cazedessus, Jr. Editor,
ERB-dom Magazine
THE OUTLAWS OF MARS
by
OTIS ADELBERT
KLINE
ACE
BOOKS, INC. 23 West 47th Street, New York 36, N.Y.
THE OUTLAWS OF
MAES
Copyright ©, 1961, by Ellen Kline Copyright,
1933, by Frank A. Munsey Co. An Ace Book, by arrangement with Thomas Bouregy
& Co.
Ace Books have also published THE SWORDSMAN
OF MARS by Otis Adelbert Kline (D-516 - 35*)
Printed in U.S.A.
CHAPTER I
x
As the
powerful car plunged up
the, mountain road, Jerry-Morgan wondered what sort of reception awaited him at
the end of this drive. Would the mysterious, eccentric man who was his uncle,
and who lived in this mountain retreat which his nephew had never been
permitted to visit, turn him away now?
It was not until he had reached the highest
limit of timber growth that he came upon a log habitation built against the
mountainside which rose steeply behind it, rugged and bare of vegetation. He
stopped the car in front of the log porch, off the road enough to avoid
blocking it. No one was around; no one appeared as he slammed the car door
shut, climbed the steps and crossed the veranda. No one answered his knock; the
door swung open at the impact and Jerry entered.
He
found himself in a large living room, finished and furnished in pioneer style,
the walls decorated with trophies. Despite the chill at this altitude, there
was only cold, gray ashes mingled with bits of charcoal in the fireplace. Jerry
had the feeling that the place had not been lived in for some time.
Exploration
confirmed his initial impression. Shelves in the kitchen were empty save for a
few dishes and utensils. There was no sign of food, and a thin film of dust had
settled over everything, even the sink.
Puzzled, he returned to the living room and
seated himself on a birch settee before the cold fireplace. Obviously, though
this was the nominal residence of his uncle, Doctor Richard Morgan did not
really live here. Where, then, did he live? As far as Jerry had been able to
see in every direction there had been no sign of a building of any kind, save
this one.
As he sat there, reflecting on these
mysteries, he suddenly heard the door open, and turning, saw his uncle.
Like
his nephew, Richard Morgan was tall and powerfully built. The remaining black
among the silver hair and beard was as jet as Jerry's, and though he did not
look like a military man, his presence radiated authority. His forehead was
high and bulged outward over shaggy eyebrows that met above his aquiline nose;
and he wore a pointed, closely cropped Vandyke.
"Glad
to see you, Jerry," boomed the doctor in his resonant bass voice.
"I've been expecting you."
Jerry
Morgan stared in amazement as he took his uncle's proffered hand.
"Expecting me? Why, I told no one—intended to surprise you. It sounds
almost like thought-transference."
"Perhaps
you are nearer the truth than you imagine," replied the doctor, seating
himself.
Jerry
brushed this aside, mentally, as he groped for the proper words with which to
frame his next speech. "I'm afraid you're not going to like what I have to
tell you, Uncle Richard," he began. "The fact is, I've disgraced . .
."
"I
know all about it, Jerry," said the doctor g«ntly, and then proceeded to
give a detailed account of the episode the young man had been about to tell. He
ended with: "You knew the colonel would never believe a story about your
being framed in a manner reminiscent of nineteenth century melodrama, so you
had no choice but to resign. What you didn't know was that it was not
Lieutenant Tracy, your rival, who arranged the affair but Elaine herself."
"Impossible, uncle ..."
"Think, Jerry. Had you told
anyone—anyone but Elaine— that you were not going directly back to your quarters
as usual, but were stopping at the drugstore in town first? Someone had to
know you would be in town at a certain time that night in order for the plan to
succeed. It couldn't have worked in any other place, although it could have
happened at a later time. And Lieutenant Tracy was in the field that night, and
could not have been privy to it. In fact, he knew nothing of it at all."
"Then I misjudged them
both—Tracy and Elaine."
"Not
too badly in Tracy's case, I should say. He just wouldn't have done it that way
though. Me couldn't have been as sure of the colonel's reaction as the
colonel's daughter was, you see. Well, don't fret about them, my lad. They're
two of a kind and they richly deserve each other. . . . And now will you
believe me if I tell you I know everything you've done since? Good." He
stood up. "You have guessed that I don't live here—that this place is only
a dummy habitation to keep the folk who live hereabout from prying into my
affairs. Follow me."
He
ied the way through the kitchen, and thence down a stairway into the garage. At
the back was a tier of shelving. The doctor reached behind a shelf and pulled.
Instantly, the whole tier swung back from the wall, revealing a dark passageway,
hewn from the rock, leading into the mountainside.
"Enter," said the
doctor.
At the end of the tunnel they came to a
sliding door, which the doctor pushed back. Behind it was an automatic
elevator. They entered; Morgan touched a button and they rose noiselessly. At
the end of the ascent, they stepped out into a large, airy hallway, into which
filtered sunlight streamed through irregularly shaped skylights of frosted
glass.
"Seen
from the outside, those skylights simulate the drifts and ridges of snow which
surround us," said Morgan. "We are now at the peak of the mountain,
and this building is so con-.
structed
that, viewed from near or far, it appears to be a part of it."
"Amazing!" exclaimed Jerry. "I
pictured you in a little cabin, perhaps with a small laboratory."
"I
have other surprises for you," said the doctor. "In the meantime,
Boyd will show you to your room. He has already installed your luggage and
drawn your bath. I'm sure you will want to freshen up after your journey. See
you at breakfast."
"Before I tell you of my life's
work," said Morgan, as they attacked the viands before them, "let's
talk about you. I know precisely how you feel. You have lost your career and
the woman you wanted, and you have come to me for the rest of your patrimony,
with which you expect to embark on a certain
desperate adventure. The odds are a thousand to one against your coming out
alive, but this means little to you the way you feel now."
He proceeded to relate full details of Jerry
Morgan's plans.
"You seem to read my innermost thoughts,
uncle, as if they were a printed page spread before you. I can't imagine how
you know all this, but you are right."
Morgan
sighed. "If you are determined to go on with this, I'll do all in my power
to help you. Yet it is my hope that I may be able to offer you a new interest
in life—new adventures that will serve a most excellent purpose, and beside
which the one you have planned will pale to insignificance.
"You
have said, half in jest, that I appear to read your mind. I do; I have always
read your mind, since the death of your parents put you under my
guardianship—which took place after I had perfected my experiments with
telepathy. Telepathy, one of the most remarkable powers of the objective mind,
is not affected by time or distance. It acts instantly, once contact has been
established.
"I
started out trying to build a device which would pick up and amplify thought
waves. This led to contact with a man
on Mars who was experimenting in transmitting thought-waves—but not the Mars of
today," he added, seeing the expression on Jerry's face. "Lai Vak,
the Martian, spoke and still speaks to me from the Mars some millions of years
ago, when a human civilization did exist
there. We found that personalities could be exchanged between certain Martians
and Earthmen who were nearly doubles physically, and whose brain-patterns were
similar. Since that time, we established contact with a Venusian, Vom Vangal
who is contemporary with Lai Vak. I am presently in contact with both of these
men who, to our niche in space-time have been dead for millions of years. I was
able to send two Earthmen to Mars and two to Venus, through personality
exchange. The two men on Venus are still alive, and in communication with me.
Of the two I sent to Mars, only one remains; the other, who was a criminal, was
slain by his fellow-Earthman. This leaves me with only one representative on
Mars."
Had
it not been for the demonstration he had already received in relation to
Morgan's intimate knowledge of his own affairs, Jerry Morgan would have been
far from credulous. Under the shock of what he had learned, it seemed somehow
believable. "It sounds interesting," he said, trying not to be
carried away. "How about sending my personality to Mars."
"Lai
Vak, Vom Vangal and I have worked out improvements," Morgan said. "I
am now prepared to send you on a journey through time and space in the
flesh."
"Then you must have
some sort of space-time vehicle."
"Follow
me, and I will show you," replied the doctor, rising.
CHAPTER H
In
the center of the high,
dome-roofed shed stood a huge globe, more than fifty feet in diameter. It was
covered with thick asbestos, held in place by a meshwork of steel cables. A
circular metal plate, studded with bolts, and apparently the lid of a doorway
or manhole, was on the side facing them.
"I am indebted to the people of Olba, a nation
on Venus, for the mechanism which makes this space-time vehicle possible,"
said the doctor. "I do not pretend to understand it myself, and can only
tell you that it has made several trips successfully—though without any human
cargo. The power which propels it either comes from or is tapped by the human
brain, and what you may have heard of as telekinesis is as good an explanation
as any. I already have contact with the mechanism. Now watch the metal plate
and see what happens."
Jerry
watched, then uttered an exclamation as it began to turn swiftly, projecting
farther and farther from the surface of the sphere with each turn. It was
threaded, and when it unscrewed itself for a distance of about five feet, it
suddenly fell forward with a loud click, and hung suspended by a heavy metal
hinge, revealing a dark hole in the sphere. Then a ladder of flexible steel
cable uncoiled itself from the dark depths, and dropped to the ground.
Jerry
sprang up the ladder and crawled into the hole. After following a narrow
passageway for about twenty feet he came to a small circular room about ten
feet in diameter. The walls, floor, and ceiling of the room were thickly padded
and suffused with soft light. He turned as a shadow blocked the llight from the
tube.
"How do you like
it?" asked Morgan.
"Fine," replied
Jerry. "Why not let me start now?"
"I
had that thought in mind when I brought you here. However, landing on Mars will
have difficulties because of the rarer atmosphere—not as rare as the Mars of
today, but noticeably more so than what you're accustomed to. Because of this,
and the lesser gravity, your heart and lungs will have to make readjustments,
and it will take time to become acclimated. Go slowly, when you leave the
sphere."
"How long will it take
to get there?"
"I cannot calculate precisely,
but it will not take long."
"And
do you know on what part of the planet I will alight?"
Morgan nodded. "While you were crossing
the United States by train, Lai Vak was traveling from his home in the city of
Dukor, to Raliad, largest city of Mars. He is now housed in the imperial palace
of Raliad, and is in contact with me—so the globe, directed by our minds, will
travel straight to the palace. When you arrive, he will be there to greet you,
and to teach you the language of Mars. After that, you will have to shift for
yourself."
"Fair
enough. But what do you want me to do on Mars? I gather that I can be of help
to science, or something of the sort."
"If
you succeed in living on Mars, you will be the first Earthman to do so in the
flesh. After that, my thought-recorder will be in contact with you, day and
night, making a record of what you see and do. Alighting in Raliad, greatest
city of Mars, you will communicate much valuable knowledge regarding this
mighty city. From the moment you land, you will be an explorer, automatically
relating your adventures to us here."
The
doctor raised the lid of a case which Jerry had previously noticed, fastened
against the wall. It contained a repeating rifle, a Colt forty-five in a
shoulder holster, a hunting knife, a camp axe, a canteen, and a number of
boxes of ammunition and provisions.
"For
emergency," said the doctor, "just in case you should happen not to alight at the imperial palace in Raliad." He closed the lid and secured it. "Now let
me strap you to the center of the floor, and you will be ready to start."
A
few minutes later, warm farewells had been made, the doctor departed, and the
outer door screwed into place.
The globe lurched unsteadily for a moment,
then Jerry found himself forced suddenly against the floor as it shot swiftly
upward. Gradually the intense pressure against his body grew less, and was
followed by a feeling of lightness. This feeling lasted for only a few moments;
then he felt himself growing heavier, but the sensation was most peculiar. For
instead of pressing against the floor, his body was now pulling away from
it—tugging against the straps as if in an effort to rise toward the ceiling.
The
strange pressure of the straps gradually lessened. Then he felt a slight jolt,
and the floor began wabbling unsteadily beneath him. Evidently the globe had
landed—but on what?
Hastily
unfastening his straps, he got to his feet, but the effort shot him up against
the ceiling of the cubicle. When he stood on the swaying floor again he saw
that the door was unscrewing itself. A moment later it dropped down from the
opening, and bright daylight came in through the hole.
His
first look outside convinced him that he had really landed on Mars. The sun,
though it appeared much smaller than when viewed from Earth, blazed brightly
with a peculiar, blue-white light. It hung just above a horizon of weird and
grotesque plant growths. Looking downward, Jerry saw that the globe had
alighted on the shallow, sandy margin of a small lagoon, and its rocking was
occasioned by the wash of waves driven by a stiff breeze.
His
heart pounded wildly as he gazed about him at this strange landscape, and a
giddiness assailed him. Believing this to be due to the lessened gravity of the
planet on which the globe now rested, he waited for his circulatory system to
adjust itself. Slowly, cautiously, he inhaled the air. It was cool and sweet,
but somehow it did not satisfy him. He filled his lungs to capacity, again and
again, but his heart resumed its wild pounding; there was a feeling of pressure
in his eardrums. A gray haze obscured his vision, he fought against it, but to
no avail.
He fell back, gasping for breath, then all
went black.
CHAPTER
III
Jerry's
senses returned slowly.
His
lungs ached from their unwonted exertions, his throat was dry and parched, and
his heart was drumming in his ears.
Slowly, cautiously, he sat up. His
fingernails, he saw, were still quite blue, evidence that he had escaped
suffocation by a very narrow margin. The sun had risen at least twenty degrees,
proving that he had been unconscious for more than an hour.
For
some time he sat there, inhaling the cool, sweet air; then he got up
cautiously, and went back into the cubicle. Here he opened the case which
contained his weapons, equipment, ammunition and provisions. He loaded the
rifle and pistol, and filled his pockets with ammunition for both weapons. The
balance of the ammunition and provisions he placed in a heavy canvas bag
provided for the purpose, and fitted with straps so it could be slung over his
back.
After
strapping the pistol, camp axe, knife and canteen in place, he slung the pack
over his back, took up the rifle, and creeping through the narrow passageway,
turned and descended the ladder. The shallow water at its foot only came to his
ankles, and he splashed up onto the sandy beach.
As he stood there, scanning the strange trees
and shrubbery before him, he heard a sharp click. The ladder had been withdrawn
into the globe, and the door was screwing itself into plaoe. A moment more, and
it was tight; then the globe rose, water dripping from beneath it. It soon
became a tiny speck which rapidly faded from view.
Resolutely
he turned away,- and climbing the sloping beach, strode in among the strange,
treelike growths which fringed the shore. Now Jerry felt an exhilarating sense
of lightness and freedom of movement. The weight ef his supplies, equipment
and weapons was but trifling; and it seemed as if the metal parts of his rifle were made of aluminum rather than steel.
As
he passed through the first fringe of trees, Jerry found that he had stepped
into a cultivated garden, iaid out with paths of resilient, reddish-brown
material as springy as rubber, which wound among beds of bright, weird blooms
of grotesque forms and patterns, clumps of shrubbery, and shady groves of
trees.
After walking for a distance of about a mile
he reached the edge of the garden, bounded by a wall about fifty feet in
height, which stretched in a gradual curve to the right and left, as far as he
could see. It was constructed from immense blocks of translucent, amber-colored
material, fitted together so cleverly that the seams were all but invisible. At
regular intervals, curving stairways led up to the top of the wall, and he made
his way to the nearest one.
A
short climb brought him to the top of the wall, which was more than a hundred
feet thick. He walked across it and peered over the edge, then drew back
dizzily. He was looking down on the busy streets of an immense city, so far
below him that the scurrying people and speeding vehicles looked like tiny
insects. The wall on which he stood edged the roof of what was the largest
building in sight, and the roof itself was covered by the garden through which
he had just come. As far as he could see, there were other buildings formed
from translucent blocks of various colors, taller by far than the mightiest skyscrapers on Earth,
and all topped by roof-gardens.
From
his point of vantage, Jerry now surveyed the garden through which he had just
passed. He saw many scattered individuals at work, caring for the plants and
harvesting the fruits—muscular, nut-brown men who were naked save for turban-like
head-pieces, leather breech-clouts, and high boots with the tops rolled down
below the knees.
Except
for their strange apparel and the fact that their chests were, on an average,
larger than those of Earthmen, they did not show any marked difference from
terrestrial peoples. Hedescended to the garden once more and walked in the
direction where he had last seen the nearest worker.
He
had not gone far when he found himself face-to-face with a girl. She was
slight, slender and white-skinned, with large brown eyes, raven-black hair, and
an ethereal beauty of face and form. A fillet of woven gold links set with
polished bits of lapis lazuli bound her glossy hair. A band of the same
materials supported her small breast shields of beaten gold. And from a belt of
gold links powdered with amethysts, depended a tight cincture of shimmering peacock
blue fabric with a texture like that of satin.
Though
Jerry was merely startled at this sudden meeting, he saw by the look in her
eyes that the girl was frightened. She half-turned as if about to flee, but
evidendy reconsidered, and once more faced him resolutely.
Resolving to try to calm
her fears, he said, "Good morning."
Then
he smiled, and started what was meant to be a step in her direction. But the
result, instead of a mere forward step, was something in the nature of a leap
which landed him not two feet in front of her.
The
effect of this performance on the girl was instantaneous. Before he had
recovered his equilibrium, she screamed and shrank back.
Scarcely
had he regained his balance, when Jerry's attention was attracted by a new
sound—a terrific roar which came from a huge beast that was bounding toward
them along the path. With a yawning, tooth-filled mouth as large as that of an
alligator, a furry black body fully as big as that of a lion, short legs, and a
hairless, leathery tail, paddle-shaped and edged with sharp spines, the
oncoming monster certainly looked formidable.
Jerry
thought and acted swifdy. His first duty was to get the girl out of the path of
the charging monster.
Gripping
his rifle in his left hand, he bent and encircled her slender waist with his
right arm. Then he leaped to one side, just in time to avoid those gaping jaws.
But the spring he made carried him clear over the hedge, and into a carefully-tended
bed of tiny flowering plants.
For
the first time since he had landed on Mars, he realized the tremendous
advantage of his Earth-trained muscles. The short-legged beast, unable to leap
over the hedge, was crashing through it. So he turned, and still carrying the
girl beneath his arm, bounded away with tremendous leaps.
The slender form of the girl was
feather-light, and impeded him scarcely at all. On Earth she would have
weighed about ninety pounds; on Mars she weighed about thirty-four.
Glancing
back over his shoulder, he saw that although he had a good start on the beast,
it was following him with a speed that was amazing in a creature with such
short legs. Soon the stairway loomed before him, and he bounded up it, five
steps at a time. As soon as he reached the top of the wall he put the girl down
and turned to face their pursuer, which had meantime reached the steps.
Snapping
his gun to his shoulder, he took careful aim be-twees the blazing green eyes,
and fired. Without a sound or a quiver, the beast sank down on the steps.
At
the sound of the shot the girl had sprung erect. For a moment she peered down
at the fallen beast. Then, her eyes flashing like those of an enraged tigress,
she turned on Jerry with a volley of words that were unmistakably scornful and
scathing.
Suddenly her hand flashed to her belt and
came up with a jewel-hilted dagger. Jerry noticed that the blade was straight
and double-edged, with tiny, razor-sharp teeth. For a moment he did not realize
what she intended doing; but when she raised her weapon on aloft and lunged
straight for his breast, he caught her wrist just in time.
As
he stood there holding her wrist to keep her from reaching him with that
murderous blade, he became aware that men were coming through the garden,
converging on them from all directions and scrambling up the stairways. These
brown-skinned men, whom he had previously seen working as gardeners, were all
armed with saw-edged, straight-bladed swords and daggers, and heavy maces with
disk-shaped heads.
There
was no chance to escape, so he stood his ground, still clutching the struggling
girl's slim wrist with one hand, and leaning on his rifle with the other.
Suddenly
the girl wrenched her wrist from his grasp, and sprang nimbly away from him.
And in a moment he was surrounded by a circle of menacing, saw-edged sword
blades.
CHAPTER
IV
As he
stood there, ringed by
hostile swordsmen, Jerry thought rapidly. Obviously, the brown men understood
that his rifle was a dangerous weapon, for they were approaching him
cautiously. Accordingly, he bent and laid it at his feet. Then he unstrapped
his other weapons, piled them on top of it, and raised his hands above his head
in token of surrender.
Instantly two men leaped in and took
possession of the weapons. A third cast a loop of tough, flexible leather
around his wrists and drew it taut.
The
girl spoke to one of the men, evidently an officer, who saluted her by holding
both hands before his eyes, and issued a sharp command to the others. Then she
turned and descended the steps to where the dead beast lay. As his captors
dragged him after her, Jerry was surprised to see her stoop and throw her arms
around the great shaggy neck. When she arose, tears were trickling down her
cheeks.
She
led the way through the garden. Behind her, walking at a respectful distance,
was the officer; following him was the man who held the thong which bound
Jerry's arms. On each side of the Earthman strode a brown warrior, sword in
hand, and behind him walked two more, bearing his arms and equipment. The
others dispersed.
They
followed a path of the resilient brown paving material which presently led to
the mouth of a tunnel which yawned from one side of a-tree-covered mound. At
either side of the tunnel mouth stood a white-skinned guard, who in addition to
sword, dagger and mace, was armed with a sheaf
of wicked-looking multi-barbed javelins.
At
sight of the girl, these guards saluted respectfully. Then one hurried into the
tunnel and emerged a moment later, followed by a vehicle which made Jerry gasp
in astonishment. It moved smoothly and silently on six pairs of jointed metal
legs shod with balls of resilient reddish-brown material like that used in
paving. In lieu of seats, it supported twelve saddles, set three in a row. And
in the foremost row, at the extreme right, sat the driver, who manipulated the
multiped conveyance by means of two vertical levers, on either side of his
saddle.
The girl climbed into a saddle beside the
driver, and Jerry was placed in the central saddle of the next row, a guard on
each side of him. The man who held the thong that bound his wrists, and the two
who bore his equipment,
seated themselves in the next row. The vehicle started as the driver pushed the two levers forward.
The
tunnel which they entered led downward in a steep spiral. It was lighted by
small globes filled with a thick, luminous liquid which he later learned was
derived from a radioactive substance called baridium. They were suspended on
short chains from the ceiling, and shed a mellow, amber light. Swiftly they
sped down that spiral ramp, and Jerry caught flashes of small level platforms
at regular intervals, leading to arched doorways. Presently, the vehicle slowed
down and came to a sliding stop before one of them.
The
girl sprang out onto the platform, and Jerry was dragged after her by his
captors. She led the way to a tremendous arched door before which stood a
score of armed and uniformed guards. These guards were white. They saluted
respectfully, and parted their ranks to let the party pass.
The
splendor of the room they now entered left Jerry spellbound with awe. It was a
tremendous circular audience chamber, at least a thousand feet in diameter, and
as high as it was wide. Its ceiling of burnished gold was supported by huge
pillars, fifty feet in diameter, each seemingly cut from a single piece of pale
blue crystal.
The
floor was of hexagonal, orange colored crystal blocks, between the interstices
of which molten silver had been poured, and the whole polished to a mirror-like
luster. Suspended from the ceiling on thick golden chains, and hanging about
two hundred feet above the floor, were huge light globes, twenty feet in
diameter, filled with the luminous liquid he had previously observed.
At
spaced intervals around the cricular wall, uniformed guards stood, leaning on
their tall spears.
In
the center of the room, toward which they were walking, stood a circular dais,
consisting of three disks placed concentrically one above the other. The top
.disk was of blue crystal, the middle one of orange crystal, and the bottom
one of black.
Suspended above the center of the highest
disk, on four thick golden cables, was a massive golden throne, upholstered in
blue. And on this throne, Jerry saw a big man, with handsome, regal features
that were as expressionless as stone. His thick, iron-gray beard had been
braided into five long plaits which hung down to his wide golden belt, in which
a thousand jewels sparkled. His arms and torso
were bare, save for his jeweled golden armlets and wrist-guards, and a
gem-encrusted medallion which hung on his chest. A close-fitting casque of
burnished gold was on his head, and a single huge gem blazed above his forehead
with a blue-white light.
Two
young white men wearing blue, one a blond and the other a brunet, stood on the
top disk at either side of the throne. Below these, on the orange disk, stood a
tall, broad-shouldered fellow with nut-brown skin, his clothing orange trimmed
with blue, and a girl slightly lighter colored, who likewise wore orange and
blue. Jerry saw that she was slight, slender and beautiful.
On
the lowest disk were a score of white-skinned men and women who wore orange
trimmed in black. And surrounding the disks were at least a thousand more who exhibited a variety of colors, though the majority of
them wore black. But every one, other than the warriors from the garden who had
captured the Earthman, and the man and girl who stood on the middle disk, was
white-skinned.
Those
who stood around the throne stepped aside and saluted respectfully as the girl
came up with the guards and prisoner. But she ran swiftly up the steps and
threw her arms about the monarch's neck, tears streaming from her eyes.
The
big man picked her up as easily as if she had been a doll, and seated her on
the wide throne beside him. For some time they conversed. From time to time she
looked at Jerry as she talked, and he knew the conversation related to him.
Presently,
in the midst of her story, the girl stepped down from the throne and took
Jerry's rifle from one of the brown guards. She brought it to her shoulder,
exactly as he had done, and he was alarmed to see her finger on the trigger.
"Wait!" he cried, and sprang
forward, to snatch the rifle away from her. But at the moment the weapon went
off.- The girl was hurled backward by the unexpected recoil of the heavy rifle,
and fell to the floor. The bullet struck one of the crystal pillars.
Instantly,
pandemonium reigned. The girl was picked up by the monarch, who hastily sprang
down from his throne as she fell. Then, still holding her feather weight in his
arms, he issued a sharp command.
Jerry
was astounded to see a circular section of the floor rising before the throne,
supported by three stout pillars. When it had risen to a height of about twenty
feet, another floor was disclosed beneath it. As this one came to rest, three
huge black men stepped from it, carrying a large circular rug made from the
resilient reddish-brown material. They spread this on the floor.
Then
two of them seized Jerry and dragged him to the center of the rug, where they
forced him to his knees, The third, who carried an enormous, two-edged sword in
a sheath strapped to his back, drew the weapon and looked inquiringly at the
monarch. The latter nodded.
CHAPTER V
Half-stunned, Jerry waited for the executioner's keen
blade to descend. But at that instant the blond, blue-clad youth who had stood
beside the throne rushed up, sword in hand, and struck aside the blade of the
executioner.
A moment later, another man came running up—a
white-haired man who wore orange and black; and on his beardless countenance
was a look of calm benignity. He smiled encouragingly at Jerry, then turned
and addressed the poker-faced monarch. The latter issued an order to the two black
giants at the Earthman's sides, whereupon they permitted him to arise.
In
the meantime the girl in the monarch's arms revived, and he put her on the
floor, where she joined in the discussion. Jerry noticed that there was
considerable wonder written on her face, as the white-haired man talked to her
and the ruler. Four others joined in the discussion, the two young men in blue
who had stood at either side of the throne, and the dark-skinned girl and man
who had stood on the central dais.
Although
he could not understand a word that was spoken, Jerry saw that this latter
personage was urging his execution. The girl, however, evidently sided with the
white-haired newcomer and the blond youth.
Presently,
the ruler rumbled a curt order. The thongs were removed from Jerry's wrists,
and the white-haired man, after saluting the ruler, took the Earthman's arm and
led him away.
"You
are Dr. Morgan's nephew, are you not?" he asked in English.
"I
am," gulped Jerry, "but how did you know? And who are you?"
"I
am Lai Vak," was the reply. "I was unavoidably delayed. As I am a
stranger in Raliad, and there is a revolt in the provinces, I was accused of
being a spy. My arrest came this morning, and I had some difficulty in clearing
myself of the charge, despite my credentials from the Vil of Xancibar. A
stranger is usually accounted guilty until he is proven innocent."
While
they talked, they threaded numerous passageways, and Jerry noticed that every
one they met stared curiously at his army uniform.
Presently
they came to a spiral runway, and Lai Vale, stepping out on the signal
platform, pulled a cord which un-hooded a large light globe overhead by drawing
up the four quarters of its metal covering as the petals of a flower open. A
moment later one of the vehicles skidded to a stop before the landing.
Then
they climbed into the saddles, the scientist spoke a word to the driver, and
they shot swiftly upward. After passing eight platforms, the vehicle came to a
stop before the ninth, and they got out. Threading another hallway, they came
at length to a large door which an attendant, on seeing Lai Vak, threw open for
them.
They
entered, and Jerry found himself in the central room of a large and luxurious
apartment, lighted by a single circular window that extended from floor to
ceiling, its crystal panes opening outward to admit the afternoon breeze. The
furniture, consisting of chairs, divans, and a table, was legless, and
suspended from the ceiling by flexible, silk-covered cables.
"Let us sit on the
balcony and talk," said Lai Vak.
Jerry
stepped through the window and followed Lai Vak out onto the balcony. He looked
over the railing. Far below him was a broad street, thronged with darting
multiped vehicles and scurrying people. Other balconies, he observed, jutted
out above, below and around this one, and from the buildings across the street.
Seating
himself on the bench beside the scientist, he mechanically took out a cigarette
and lit it. A look of astonishment crossed the features of Lai Vak.
"What's wrong?"
asked Jerry.
"For
a moment I thought you were on fire," replied Lai Vak. "I remember
Dr. Morgan's telling me about this curious custom of Earthpeople, but it
startled me. Tell me, why do you do it?"
"Just
a habit, I guess. But a habit I won't have very long," said Jerry, looking
at his half-empty cigarette case, "as I don't suppose there is such a
thing as tobacco on Mars. May as well quit now." He was about to toss the case over the railing
when Lai Vak caught his arm.
"Wait,"
he said. "Save those little white cylinders. They may prove valuable to
you."
"How?" Jerry
wanted to know.
"As
evidence of your advent from another world. The Vil of Kalsivar suspects that
you are an enemy spy, who arrived on the palace roof with an outlandish costume
and strange weapons in order to deceive him in case of capture. It is thought
that your purpose was to kidnap Junia, daughter of N urn in Vil."
Jerry said, "Just a moment. Let me get
this thing straight. I take it that Numin Vil is the ruler, who sat on the
throne."
"That's
right. He is what you might call, the Emperor of Kalsivar, mightiest nation of
Mars."
"And
that girl I rescued from the wild beast is his daughter?"
"She
is. The Sovil, or Imperial Princess of Kalsivar. Unfortunately, you did not
rescue her from a wild beast. It seems that you met her on the roof garden, and
attempted to abduct her. Her favorite dalf came to her rescue, and you slew the
beast with one of your strange weapons."
"What's that? You mean
the creature I killed was a pet?"
"Not
only was it a pet, but she loved it almost like a member of the family. She
got that dalf when a cub, and raised it herself."
"Hm. Sort of watchdog, eh? I'll
apologize to the lady, of course, and if possible, get her a new dalf."
"Apologize,
yes, but don't mention a new dalf. She has many, but to speak of replacing this
one would be almost equivalent to offering to replace her brother after you had
slain him."
"I think I begin to
understand."
"You
certainly succeeded in getting into plenty of trouble, and you are far from out
of it yet. With the assistance of Her Highness, Junia Sovil, I was able to get
you a forty-day stay of execution, but at the end of that time you must stand
trial.
The Vil granted this clemency so you would
have time to learn the language, and thus be able to speak in your own behalf,
as well as to hear your accusers." "What accusers?"
"I
mean, in particular, Thoor Movil, Junia's cousin, who is head of the spy system
of Kalsivar. He is the tall, dark-skinned fellow who wore orange trimmed with
blue. Blue, on Mars, is the exclusive color of royalty. A Vil, or his descendants
of unmixed royal blood, may wear it with gold. A noble, closely related to the
royal family, may trim his orange garments with blue. Thoor Movil is the son of
Numin Vil's younger brother."
"He appears to be of a
different race," said Jerry.
"His
mother was of the brown race," Lai Vak explained, "which is a mixture
of the black and white races, according to our ethnologists. It is believed
that Kalsivar was founded by a black race, which was later conquered by a white
race, that intermarriage occurred for many generations, and the brown race
resulted. A few of the blacks, however, retained their racial purity. Within
historical times, about five thousand years ago, Kalsivar was reconquered by a
white race which did not intermarry with the other two, and whose leader was
the founder of the present dynasty."
"And this revolt you
speak of. Who is fomenting it?"
"The
origin of the leader is shrouded in mystery," replied Lai Vak. "For
at least a thousand years there has been a prophecy among the brown people to
the effect that a man of their own race, of the old royal blood, would arise to
lead them to victory over their white rulers. Less than a year ago a stranger
appeared among a large group of them, who had gone into the desert to perform
religious rites as is their annual custom. This person wore a hideous mask,
fashioned in the likeness of the chief of their ancient gods, Sarkis the Sun
God, and claimed that he was the reincarnation of that god, returned to lead
them to ultimate victory.
"Many
fell down and worshiped him, remaining to form the nucleus of a rapidly growing
army of outlaws, who raid our agricultural districts, and harass our shipping.
Many punitive expeditions have been sent out against these outlaws, but they
invariably break up into small bands which scatter over the trackless desert,
to reform later at some unexpected point for fresh raids. Their mysterious
leader has come to be known as Sarkis the Torturer."
"Does
this Sarkis constitute a menace to the present ruler ofKalsivar?"
"Decidedly,"
was Lai Vak's reply. "His ranks are being rapidly swelled by deserters
from the imperial army. And the roving desert tribes, many of which are of the
brown race, have unanimously espoused his cause."
At this moment a brown-skinned slave appeared
in the window opening and spoke with Lai Vak. Then the latter turned to Jerry.
"I doubt not that you are hungry, and our regular time for eating has
arrived. Let us go inside."
They
went in and sat down on one of the swinging divans. The slave brought a large
bowl, mounted on a tripod, which he set before them. The bowl was divided into
six segments, and in each segment reposed a different kind of food. Mounted on
a single shaft in the center of the bowl was a small, circular disk, on which
stood a flask and two cubical cups, all of gold, exquisitely carved and set
with sparkling jewels.
The
servant poured a steaming liquid into the cups. It was pink in color, and gave
off a fragrant aroma.
Lai
Vak took up a cup and extended it to Jerry. "I believe you will find it
easy to like our favorite Martian drink, though you may find it difficult to
accustom yourself to some of our foods."
"What is it?"
"We
call it pulcho," Lai Vak replied. "Taken in moderate quantities it is
a pleasant stimulant. When drunk excessively, it is intoxicating."
The
Earthman took a sip, and found it as the scientist had said, both pleasing and
stimulating.
The brown-skinned servant hastened forward to
refill his cup, and the Earthman noticed that he took it up in such a way that
for a moment the palm of his hand was held over it.
The
man handed him the brimming cup, but before he could raise it to his lips, Lai
Vak snatched it from him. Springing to his feet, he whipped out his dagger and
presented its point to the breast of the servant, addressing a few sharp words
to him.
With
a trembling hand, the fellow took the cup and drained its contents at a single
gulp. A dull, glazed look came to his eyes. He slumped to the floor, then lay
still.
"I
thought I saw him drop something into your cup," said Lai Vak, "but I
wanted to make sure. As you see, I was right."
"You mean that the
fellow tried to poison me?"
"Precisely,"
Lai Vak replied. "He is only a tool, of course. You have an enemy in
Raliad, it seems, and one who occupies a high place."
"But
who could it have been?" ' "That is what we will try to find
out—later," the scientist told him, turning toward the door. "I go
now to call the guard. Under the circumstances, we had best keep our own council.
I beg you, for your own good to remember, after I have taught you our language,
that this impudent fellow had the bad taste to commit suicide in our
presence."
CHAPTER
VI
Studying assiduously under the efficient tutelage of
Lai Vak, Jerry rapidly learned to read and write the Martian language.
The
scientist also instructed him in Martian manners and customs, and described to
him the immense city without.
"Raliad,"
Lai Vak told him, "is truthfully called the 'City of a Million Gardens.'
Here every house, from the imperial palace down to the lowliest hovel, has its
roof garden. It is so immense that, within its confines live more people than
make up the entire nation of Xancibar, whence I come. Its resident population
is well over a hundred million, and its floating population daily numbers at
least twenty-five million more. More canals verge here than in any other six
cities on the planet, and the canals are the main arteries of travel and
commerce."
Some five days before the date set for his
trial, Jerry was enjoying his evening meal in company with Lai Vak, when the
latter told him:
"I
have arranged a surprise for you. Her Imperial Highness, the Sovil, when I told
her that you had mastered our language, and that you had a petition for her
ears, graciously consented to grant you an interview."
"Greatl When do we
start?"
"Patience,
and finish your meal," smiled Lai Vak. "We have plenty of time. A
guard will be sent for you at the appointed hour, for you
are still a prisoner, you know. To show proper respect for her highness, I
think we had best dress you for the audience."
"This
Army uniform is getting rather seedy looking," said
Jerry.
"On
Mars we dress according to our stations
in life. I understand that you are of noble blood."
"On
the contrary," Jerry replied, "there are no nobles in the nation from
which I came. We have our great men—our leaders in finance, in war, in science,
and in the arts—but no nobility."
"That I know. Yet Dr. Morgan told me he
was descended from the nobility of another nation—Ireland, I believe he called it. This will entitle you to wear
orange, trimmed with black, on Mars."
"True. I had forgotten that my first
American ancestor was an Irish viscount. But he renounced his tide, so that
lets me out."
"It doesn't change the blood."
"That's
true, but I think I'll be loyal to his ideas, just the same."
"Then you will have to wear the plain
black of a commoner."
Lai Vak summoned a servant, and ordered that
a suit of commoner's clothes be brought. Some time later, Jerry surveyed
himself in the burnished gold mirror. He wore a cincture of glossy black velvet,
which left his legs bare. On his feet were black boots of soft leather.
There
was a broad belt of woven silver links about his waist, from which depended an
empty sword scabbard on his left, and a dagger sheath on his right. The weapons
had been removed because of his status as a prisoner. His arms and torso were
bare, save for a pair of silver wrist guards, a pair of armlets of the same
metal, and a medallion which depended from around his neck. On his head was a
black turban, held in place by a band and chin strap of finely woven silver
links. This turban was made of a tenuous but extremely strong and wind-proof
material, which could be unbound and dropped about his shoulders to form a
cloak that would reach to his knees.
A
few moments later the guard flung open the door and a page entered.
"Her
Imperial Highness, Junia, Sovil of Kalsivar, commands the presence of Lai Vak
and Jerry Morgan."
They
returned his salute, and followed him out into the hallway, where two armed guards
fell in behind them.
The
page led them to the nearest runway, where they took a multiped vehicle to the
second floor above them. Here they walked back along an almost identical
hallway, and Jerry realized, as they paused before a blue-curtained door guarded by two warriors, that Junia's
apartment was directly above his own.
The
page went in first, to announce them, then returned and bade them enter. In a
large, magnificently furnished room, Junia reclined on a swinging divan of blue
plush, sun -rounded by a bevy of her ladies.
As Jerry stood before her and rendered the
royal salute by holding both hands before his eyes, he caught his breath at
sight of her loveliness.
"I
shield my eyes in the glory of your highness's presence," he said.
She returned the salute by raising one
slender hand before her eyes—the salute rendered to those of other than royal
blood. Then she turned to Lai Vak.
"You
have made a mistake, -I believe," she said. "This afternoon you
requested an audience for a nobleman from another world, and I granted it. Now
you bring a commoner before me—an affront which even the Zovil, my brother,
would not have dared."
"I can explain in a few words, your
highness," said Lai Vak. "Jerry Morgan's noble ancestor renounced his
title. Though nothing can rob him of his noble blood, he hails from a country
where there are no titles, and so prefers to appear as a commoner."
"It
is a churlish preference I should expect in him, after his actions when first
we met. It seems he would add insult to injury."
Lai Vak was about to reply, but Jerry
forestalled him.
"I
fear your highness misapprehends my intentions. Since I came to apologize for those same blundering acts of mine, I wore the black of a commoner in token of humility."
"Why,
this is better," she said, with a faint smile. "I had not expected so
quick a wit in one whose blunders have been so lamentable."
"It is charitable of you to allow them
to pass as blunders."
"Had
I not accounted them so, you would not have been granted this interview,"
said Junia..
"You lead me to hope
that the forgiveness for which I have come to sue will be granted." "It is already
granted."
"I
am profoundly grateful," he said with almost undue eagerness.
She
said no more, but her brown eyes dropped, and a slow blush suffused the lovely features.
For
a moment Jerry stood thus, unconscious of everything about him save the allure
of this maiden. Then Lai Vak touched his arm, and the spell was broken.
"Come," he said
sofdy. "The interview is ended."
As
one in a daze, Jerry saluted and withdrew, accompanied
by the scientist and followed by the two guards.
Lai
Vak speaking English so the two guards who followed would not understand,
said, "I saw that look which passed between you two. If you would live,
even to the day of the trial, you must never attempt to see her again; never
let any one know the depth of feeling which you have betrayed and to which she
involuntarily responded this evening."
"To know that I should never see her
again would be to lose all zest for life. But why do you say I must put her
from my mind?"
"Because
to do otherwise will be to align yourself against forces that can only compass
your destruction. Already you have made one powerful enemy, whose name I
believe I can guess. And now, would you align Manith Zovil, your friend and
protector, and even the Vil himself against you?"
At
this moment they entered their apartment, and the two guards took up their
positions before the door.
"As
I have previously told you," Lai Vak went on, "Manith is the Zovil of
Nunt, one of the major powers of Mars with which Kalsivar is on friendly terms.
He was sent here by his father, Lom Harr, Vil of Nunt, for the express purpose
of courting Junia Sovil. And I have been given to understand that the two young
people are not at all averse to the idea."
"That does put me in an awkward
position. I can't prosecute
my own interests without interfering with those of my friend and
benefactor."
"Precisely.
And although we have not definitely discovered the identity of your secret
enemy, I believe that he will come out into the open very shortly. Strangely
enough, what he believes to be his own interests, are opposed to those of
Manith Zovil, as well as to your recendy awakened desires."
"And his name?"
"Thoor
Movil, whose father was the Vil's brother, but whose mother was a sovil of the
ancient royal family of the brown race. He urged your instant execution on the
day Manith saved you. There are but two people between him and succession to
the throne of Kalsivar—Shiev Zovil, Junia's brother, and Junia herself. If he
could accomplish the death of one and marry the other, his succession would be
assured, save for one thing—that no man of the brown race has occupied that
throne since the conquest by the white race, five thousand years ago. However,
it appears that Sarkis the Torturer is the tool of Thoor Movil, as he demands,
that Kalsivar shall be ruled by a man of the ancient brown royalty.
"The
entire plot is clear enough to me, but Numin Vil would not believe me. And
Thoor Movil would quickly set his assassins on my trail if the Vil should fail
to act against me. -
"And just where do I
fit in?"
"I
have tried to make it plain," ^said Lai Vak, "that Thoor Movil is
both fearless and unscrupulous. What, then, would happen to you if you were to
reveal your true feelings toward Junia, and such revelation were to come to
his ears? He would treat you as a pestiferous insect which one crushes beneath
his foot."
At this instant one of the guards at the door
drew back a curtain and announced: "A messenger from His Highness, Thoor
Movil."
Lai Vak paled beneath his coat of tan.
"It has come, and sooner than I expected," he told Jerry in English.
Then he spoke to the guard in the Martian tongue: "Admit him."
A brown-skinned page entered.
"His
Highness, Thoor Movil, is entertaining His Imperial Highness, Shiev Zovil, at
gapun," announced the page, "and commands the attendance of Lai Vak
and Jerry Morgan."
"Await
us outside while we make ready," Lai Vak told the page. The latter stepped
out beyond the curtains, and the scientist spoke in English: "Let me warn
you, my son, that Thoor Movil bids you to a more dangerous game than that of
gapun. You will best be able to defeat him by being scrupulously careful to
offend no one, and by passing unnoticed any insults save only those which may
amount to an actual challenge, and which no Martian gentleman may ignore and
retain his honor."
CHAPTER
VII
As he
and Lai Vak followed the
page into Thoor Movil's large and luxurious apartments, Jerry saw that the
party was a small and select one, consisting of about twenty men. Three of
them, Shiev Zovil, Manith Zovil and Thoor Movil, wore the blue of royalty. The others,
with the exception of the Earthman, wore the orange of nobility.
Four gaming boards set on a large swinging
table served the gapun players. These boards contained numbered holes, and the
game consisted of rolling Martian money—small engraved pellets of gold, silver,
and platinum—into the holes, the first pellet into the highest numbered hole
winning the entire stake from each roll.
Pulcho,
which was being imbibed by the gamblers, was being poured by a dozen brown
slaves.
As
Jerry knew Thoor Movil for his enemy, he was surprised when the latter did
them honor by rising to receive them. The brown prince found a place for Lai
Vak first, then he turned to Jerry with a sarcastic smile, and said in the hearing
of all the company: "You are our latest and most distinguished gambler,
since you wear the darkest clothing of any one present."
Jerry
returned his sarcastic smile with a cheery one. "That I am the latest is
plain to be seen," he said, "but I protest that I am not" the
most distinguished. You do me too great an honor."
"How so?" asked Thoor Movil.
"It
is your highness who is our most distinguished gambler, since you have the
darkest skin of any present."
The
two princes, Shiev and Manith, laughed uproariously and some of the nobles
ventured to smile, but most of them looked exceedingly grave. And 'gravest of
all was Lai Vak.
"Is
it customary in your country for a guest to insult his host?" asked Thoor
Movil, fingering his sword hilt.
"On
the contrary," Jerry replied, "I should say that it is as great a
rarity as for a host to insult his guest."
Thoor
Movil's frown deepened, but Manith Zovil interposed. Taking Jerry's arm with
one hand, and that of the brown prince with the other, he said, "Come. You
two are delaying the game. Let us on with the play."
Before
they could seat themselves, however, a tall, broad-shouldered player who wore
the orange and black of the nobility, rose and said: "I, for one, do not
care to play, so long as this commoner is present. His appearance is offensive
enough, but his manners are a stench and an abomination to sensitive
nostrils."
Jerry
paused and regarded him coldly. "I have not the honor of your
acquaintance."
At this, Lai Vak plucked at his arm, and said
in English:
"Beware.
This is the trap Thoor Movil has set for you. This man is the most dangerous
swordsman in all Kalsivar."
"I
am Arsad, Rad of Dhoor," said Jerry's new-found enemy. "You are
standing in my way."
Recalling
his preceptor's warning to avoid a quarrel at any cost, Jerry stepped aside.
But
again the fellow turned and faced him. "Have I not said that you stand in
my way?"
With
this, Arsad struck the Earthman a sharp blow on the cheek with the back of his
hand.
Jerry
saw red, and he struck out straight from the shoulder, his fist landing full on
the mouth of his adversary. Arsad stumbled backward and crashed across the
gaming table, sending the gapun boards flying. For a moment he lay there as if
dazed. Then he sprang up with a roar, spat out three teeth and a mouthful of
blood, and whipped out his sword.
Jerry
felt a jeweled hilt thrust into his hand, Manith Zovil, Crown Prince of Nunt,
had again befriended him, this time by lending him his sword.
Swiftly
Jerry came on guard, parrying a thrust for his heart. He found his own return
thrust parried with ease, and soon realized that he was up against a master
swordsman. But Arsad must have come to recognize this at the same time, for he
began to fence very cautiously.
Meanwhile,
the spectators, who had formed a ring around the two contestants, were treated
to such an exhibition of swordsmanship as they had not seen for many a day.
For, though Arsad was known as one of the best swordsmen on Mars, Jerry had
likewise been regarded one of the best swordsmen in the American Army.
Arsad
had not exhausted all his tricks. And Jerry learned a new one just after he had
parried a particularly long lunge to his body. For the Rad of Dhoor, in
recovering, turned the edge of his saw-toothed blade against Jerry's side, and
as he drew it back, cut a deep gash from which the blood spurted freely. It was
a trick which could not have been performed with any but a saw-toothed Martian
blade.
Clutching his side to stanch the flow of
blood, the Earth-man now took the offensive with such vigor that time and again
his opponent was forced to give ground in order to save himself. Still Arsad
remained unwounded.
But the Martian had, by this time, discovered
that he was in danger of losing his life. Snatching his turban-like head-cloak
from his head, he hurled it into Jerry's face, blinding him for an instant.
Then he lunged.
Jerry's
earthly muscles saved his life by a split second, as he leaped back a full ten
feet. Then he brushed the blinding fabric aside and gave a fierce leap forward,
sword out, straight at the charging Arsad. In sheer surprise the latter tripped
and fell, an easy target for the Earthman's point.
But
instead of administering the coup de grace, Jerry struck the sword from the
hand of his tricky opponent, then presented his point to his breast.
"Wait! Would you kill
an unarmed man?"
"Unless you
yield!"
But Arsad sprang backward, and to one side;
he seized the weapon which the Earthman had beaten from his hand, and coming up
to catch Jerry with his blade low, slashed swiftly for his neck.
Jerry
dived straight forward, under that whistling blade, at the same time extending
his point. The sword of Arsad flashed harmlessly over his back, but his own
plunged clear through the body of the Martian, projecting a full two feet from
his back.
With
a look of horrified unbelief on his face, the Rad of Dhoor dropped his sword
and slumped to the floor.
Two
surgeons, who had been sent for at the beginning of the duel, now came forward.
One pronounced Arsad dead. The other dressed Jerry's wound by drawing it together
and covering it with a thick gum called jembal which quickly hardened into a
flexible, porous covering that was antiseptic, permitted drainage, and kept out
infection. A slave took the bloody sword from Jerry's hand, cleansed it, and
returned it to him.
His wound dressed, the Earthman returned the
sword to the Zovil of Nunt. "For the second time I am indebted to your
highness."
"A
trifle," Manith Zovil replied. Then taking a cup of pul-cho from a slave
who waited nearby, he handed it to the Earthman. "Drink," he
commanded. "It will help to restore your strength. You have lost much
blood."
Jerry-tossed
off the beverage and felt refreshed. In the meantime, the body of Arsad had
been taken away, and all traces of the duel removed by the slaves. The gapun boards
were replaced on the table, and several of the nobles resumed their
interrupted gaming, drinking and laughter as if nothing had happened.
Most
boisterous of all was Shiev, Zovil of Kalsivar. The crown prince was a slight,
spare youth, and something of a fop. That he had drunk overmuch pulcho was
plainly evident.
"Come,"
he cried, beating on the board with a handful of platinum pieces. "Let us
on with the game. I would see if this black-clad commoner can play gapun as
well as he can fence."
"If
it pleases your highness," said Jerry, "I should prefer not to play
tonight. I have lost much blood, and feel the need of repose."
Shiev
flushed. "You refuse the honor—refuse to play with the heir to the throne
of Kalsivar? You are exceedingly impudent for a commoner."
"And you are
exceedingly ungracious for a prince."
His
words were like a bombshell in the room. The face of Shiev Zovil went deathly
white. His hand flew to his sword hilt, but ere he could draw the weapon,
Manith Zovil had interposed.
"Wait, Shiev," he said. "This
man is from another world, and does not know our customs." "Then he
needs teaching."
"Not
with the sword," Manith answered. "He has demonstrated that on the
body of Kalsivar's greatest swordsman."
"Now, by the wrath of Dezal"
exploded Shiev. "Are you intimating that I fear to fight this clumsy oaf?
Have a care how you presume on our hospitality, or it may be that only your
ashes will be back to Nunt."
"Do
not presume too much on the fact that I have come to woo her highness, your
sister. I am your royal equal, and my sword shall answer further insinuations
from you."
At
this, Shiev lurched drunkenly to his feet and whipped out his blade. Manith
Zovil drew his own weapon, but to Jerry's surprise, Lai Vak stepped between
them.
"Before
you go on with this duel, highnesses," said the white-haired scientist,
"I beg you to pause and consider the consequences. Many things are done in
the heat of anger that bring regret when the blood cools. If you fight, one of
you may be killed. You are both brave men and fearless, and this does not weigh
with either of you. But no matter which one dies, there will be an immediate
result—a war between Kalsivar and Nunt that will cost millions of lives and use
up the resources of both nations."
At
this, the nobles immediately sided with Lai Vak, and begged the two princes to
sheathe their swords. Jerry, who had joined those attempting to cool the wrath
of Manith Zovil, noticed there was one man in the room who held aloof from all
this—as soon as he saw that the swords were to be sheathed, he added his voice
to'those of the others in crying for peace.
The
two princes were brought to the point of saluting each other, though the eyes
of both still flashed ominously. Then Manith Zovil saluted his dark-skinned
host, thanked him for his hospitality, and took his departure. Jerry and Lai
Vak did likewise, and came upon the prince as he waited for a multiped vehicle
on the signal platform.
"Again
I have your highness to thank for interposing in my behalf," said Jerry.
"Won't you join Lai Vak and me in bur apartment for the rest of the
evening?"
"Sorry,
but I am going now to take leave of Numin Vil and quit this country,"
replied Manith. "Junia is glorious, worth fighting and dying for, but I am not of the stuff that can brook these constant insults from her
popinjay brother.
"As
for the obligation, my friend, there is none. I only did that which any man
worthy of the name might do under similar circumstances. This is not the first
time Shiev Zovil has insulted me, and I am convinced that it is because his
cousin has poisoned his mind against me. Unfortunately, I can find no pretext
for seeking a quarrel with Thoor."
At
this moment, a multiped vehicle stopped at the platform. Manith Zovil bade
Jerry and Lai Vak farewell when they reached their platform, and invited them
to visit him in his own palace. He would be leaving, he said, as soon as he
could pay his respects to Numin Vil.
When
they arrived at their apartment, followed by Jerry's two guards, Lai Vak
suggested that the Earthman retire immediately, as he would need rest after
losing so much blood. As for himself, he was going to visit a friend in another
part of the palace, and would probably return quite late.
The
scientist gone, Jerry removed his headcloak, and was about to do the same with
his other clothing, when a guard drew back the curtain and announced: "A
page from Her Highness, Nisha Novil."
Jerry replaced his
headpiece, and said: "Let him enter."
A
brown-skinned page stepped into the room, saluted, and said: "Her
Highness, Nisha Novil, commands the immediate presence of Jerry Morgan."
"Bear
my excuses to her highness," replied Jerry. "Tell her that I am
weakened from loss of blood—that I . . ."
"This
is a command, Jerry Morgan. There can be no excuses."
Jerry pondered for a moment, and heartily
wished that Lai Vak was here to advise him what to do. Because Nisha Novil was
the sister of Thoor Movil, he sensed a trap of some sort. Yet the page would
accept no excuse—apparently had been so instructed.
He turned to the page, and said: "I am ready. Conduct me to her highness."
CHAPTER VIII
The
roomy apartments of Nisha
Novil were furnished with a splendor that was almost barbaric, and Nisha
herself was the most ornate object of all. Lying on a swinging divan upholstered
with alternate stripes of orange and blue plush, she shot a languishing smile
at Jerry from beneath her long, curved lashes, as he was ushered in before her.
The
only cloth upon her shapely body was a silken cincture of orange trimmed with
blue. Her small breast-shields were of blue and amber beads. By any standard
she was undeniably beautiful.
With
a wave of her hand she dismissed the page. Then she spoke, her voice low, with
a purring quality, like that of a kitten that is being stroked.
"You
are prompt, Jerry Morgan, but why have you brought the bodyguard? Were you
afraid I might injure you? As you see, I am unarmed."
"Your
highness forgets that I am a prisoner under suspended sentence of death. The
guards .. ."
"Yes,
to be sure. I had forgotten." She addressed the two. "My slaves will
give you pulcho in another room. Wait there until I send for you. I will be
responsible for your prisoner."
With
respectful salutations, the two guards followed a brown slave-girl through a
curtained doorway. Then Nisha waved a slim hand, and the other slave-girls who
stood in attendance behind her filed out of the room. As soon as they
were alone, the princess rose with feline
grace, and stood before Jerry, smiling up at him beneath languorous lids. She
was no bigger than Junia, and much like her in appearance. Yet there was
something about her, an untamed feral something in her every look and gesture.
"Come,"
she said, taking Jerry's hand and leading him to the divan. "You must be
weary after your dual with Arsad. Come and rest here beside me while we
talk."
"I
did lose some blood," Jerry replied. "That was why I was about to ask your highness's indulgence .
. ."
"But
since I am dispensing with formality," she cooed, drawing him down upon
the divan, "you may rest here as well as in your own apartment. And what I
have to say cannot wait, for there are those who plot against your life, and I would save you. Tomorrow will be too
late."
"Your
highness is most generous to take an interest in my life."
She
snuggled against him. "On the contrary, I am most selfish. From the very
day when I first saw you, standing before the throne of Numin Vil, I have
desired you.
"I
heard of the suicide of the slave in your apartment, but did not grasp the
significance at the time. However, when I learned of your duel with Arsad today, I knew that you had done
something to displease my brother, and that where Arsad failed, another of
Thoor's tools would eventually succeed. So I had a talk with my brother."
"I
don't know what I ever did to him," said Jerry, "except that I turned
one of his own sarcastic remarks against him, this evening."
"That
had some weight, but it is not the true reason for his bitterness against
you," she told him. "It began when our cousin, Junia, begged your
fife from Numin Vil after you had slain her dalf. I may add that those of whom
Thoor becomes jealous never survive long."
"It seems that I have
been exceedingly fortunate, then."
"Your
skill with the sword saved you tonight," she answered, "but other
means of compassing your death have already been planned. Thoor Movil's spies
are everywhere, and when he heard of the look which Junia gave you in her apartment
today, you were marked for death."
"And just what can you
do about all this?" Jerry asked.
"Everything,"
she replied. I have made a pact with my brother. Your life is to be spared to
me on condition that you never again cast your eyes toward our fair
cousin."
"So
you have arranged the whole thing between you. Thoughtful of your highness. But
did it not occur to you that I might have some ideas of my own on the
subject?"
To
his surprise, she flung her arms around his neck-pressed her warm hps to his.
Had
he never seen Junia, it is quite possible that the Earthman might have
capitulated. Gently he disengaged the clinging arms from around his neck, and
arose.
Nisha
fell back on the divan, panting. Then she sprang straight for the Earthman.
Screeching curses, she beat upon his breast, scratched his bare flesh until the
blood welled forth. And through it all he stood immobile, hands at his sides,
teeth clenched in a grim smile.
Her
fit of fury passed almost as suddenly as it had begun. With horror in her
-eyes, she stood limply before him.
"Deza help me!"
she moaned. "What have I done?"
"Have
I your highness's leave to go?" he asked, with studied calm.
"No, wait! You must
not leave me thus!"
She
turned and ran into another room, reappearing a moment later with a basin of
water, a handful of soft moss, and a bottle of jembal. Jerry stood like a
statue while she washed away the blood and applied the healing gum to the
scratches she had inflicted. Her ministrations finished, she looked up at him,
tears swimming in her large black eyes and pearling the long lashes.
"Forgive
me, my dear lord," she begged, contritely. "Strike me! Break me with
those strong hands of yours! But do not leave me with anger in your heart. Only
say that you forgive me,
and Deza will grant me strength to go on, knowing that I may some day win your
love."
"It
is I who should ask forgiveness," Jerry told her, "since you have
only wounded my body. But I, it seems, have unwittingly wounded your
heart."
"You
are generous, my lord," she cried, and flinging her arms around his neck,
crushed her Hps to his. "Now go. But remember—Nisha loves you, and will be
waiting." - Without a word, he turned and left the room. He had taken the
multiped vehicle to his own floor, the one below, before he noticed that his
two guards were not following him. But he reasoned that they knew the way to
his apartment as well as he.
Passing into the apartment, he hooded all the
baridium light globes but one, preparatory to retiring. But, strangely enough,
he no longer felt tired or sleepy. Feeling that a breath of air would do him
good, he pushed open the two lower segments of the window, and stepped out onto
the balcony. The night was unusually cold, even for Mars at that season.
Jerry
threw back his head and inhaled a great lungful of the cold, sweet air. But he
checked the inhalation with a gasp of amazement, for he saw, looking down from
the second balcony above him, the lovely face of Junia. As she stood there,
wrapped in her light, soft furs, he wished that he might bridge the gap between
them.
She
smiled, and Jerry returned her smile. Then she turned away and he saw her no
more. But a plan had come to him. He could bridge that gap, with the aid of his
Earthly muscles. Less than eight feet above his head hung the tough coils of
the vine which decked Nisha's balcony. And he could see, by craning his neck
outward, that the vines on Junia's balcony hung even lower.
A few moments later, he stood on Nisha's balcony.
Fortunately for his plan, the vines on Junia's balcony hung lower, and he was
able to reach the lower most of these by a vertical jump, thus avoiding the
necessity of running past the window.
The
loop held and he easily made the balcony above. Like the other two, it was
edged with potted plants, and at first he did not notice the figure standing at
the opposite .end in the shadow of an aromatic sebolis. But as he crept over
the railing, he noticed a slight movement in the shadow, and his heart ieaped
to his throat. Could this be a guard—and he unarmed?
Jerry was unable to more than make out a
muffled form standing immobile before him. Silently, he crept forward, and as
silently sprang, flinging one hand about the arms and body of the figure and
clapping his left hand over the mouth.
To
his astonishment, he found that he clasped a woman. A muffled scream came from
the girl as he dragged her out into the full light of the nearer moon.
"Junial"
he exclaimed, releasing her and standing shamefaced before her. "I
thought you were a guard."
"Just
what are you doing On my balcony?" she asked. "And why would you have
attacked a guard of mine?"
"I
had to see you. There was no other way to see you alone. Oh, Junia, it seems
that I am doomed to blunder each time I approach you—that the fates have
conspired to make you hate me."
"I—I
don't believe I could ever bring myself to hate you, Jerry Morgan," she
said softly. "But you are so clumsy. One scarcely knows what to do with
you or how to restrain you."
As
she stood there looking up at him in the moonlight, Jerry reflected that this
girl could do more to him with her eyes alone than could Nisha with her arms
and hps—with her whole body.
"You have said that you had to see
me," she told him presently. "Why?" "Because I love
you."
"You
are bold to approach me thus, and bolder still to make such a
declaration," she said. But there was no hint of anger in her eyes.
"You are right, highness," he said
dejectedly. "With your leave I will depart, and never trouble you
more."
But
as he turned away, she laid her hand on his arm. "Wait, Jerry
Morgan," she said. "What if I were to tell you that I also
care?"
"Junial You can't mean
it!"
"But I do, Jerry
Morgan."
Gentiy,
reverendy, he took the tiny, fur-clad form in his arms. She raised her hps.
A
moment they stood thus—a moment during which, for Jerry, all time stood still.
Then she drew away.
"You
must leave me, now. It grows late, and we may be discovered." There was a
catch in her voice that sounded like a stifled sob, as she added: "May
Deza keep you safe, and bring you back to me, unharmed."
Then she stepped into the
darkness of her apartment.
For
a moment Jerry stood there looking after her. Then he lowered himself over the
railing, went down the vines hand over hand.
He
found the apartment deserted, just as he had left it. Going to the door, he
parted the curtains to see if his two guards had returned. They had not, and he
was about to turn back when a man wearing the blue of royalty suddenly came
running around a bend in the hall toward him. With a start of surprise, he
recognized Manith Zovil. The Prince of Nunt carried a bloody sword in his hand,
and blood was trickling from a wound on his breast.
Springing
forward, Jerry caught him and helped him inside.
"What
has happened, highness?" he asked. "Were you attacked?"
"Attacked,
yes!" panted Manith. "I have just slain that drunken fool, Shiev
Zovil. For the love of Deza, help me get rid of this blood, or my life will be
forfeit, and there will be a war more vast and deadly than Mars has ever seen
before!"
CHAPTER IX
With water and a handful of moss, Jerry cleansed
the wound of Manith Zovil. Then he closed it with jembal. As it was only an
inch in width, and centrally located, the Prince of Nunt was able to hide it
completely with the heavy medallion which hung on his chest.
Having
cleansed his benefactor's sword and returned it to his sheath, Jerry mopped up
several drops of blood from the floor, then went out onto the balcony and flung
the telltale moss over the railing, and far out to his left, so no one below
could accurately judge from which balcony it had fallen.
This
done, he returned to where Manith sat panting on a divan, and poured him a cup
of pulcho.
"Drink-this,
and try to compose yourself, highness. There is no cause for alarm, now. You
and your weapons are free of blood, and your wound is dressed and concealed.
Rather a bad one, too. A little more to the left, and you would not be
alive."
Manith tossed off the drink
and put down the cup.
"You
are right, my friend," he said. "I met the drunken popinjay in the
hallway. He was carrying his sword in his hand, and evidendy bound for your
apartment. As soon as I came near him, he lunged at me without a word of
warning, and before I had a chance to so much as grasp my hilt.
"As
you see, his design failed. Having dodged away that treacherous stroke, I drew
my own sword and thrust him through the throat with as little compunction as if
he had been a dalf."
"And you are sure he is dead?"
"If not, he soon will be."
"But
why should any blame attach to you? You killed him in a fair fight, after an
unprovoked assault."
"Because
there were no witnesses. A duel with witnesses is legal; without them, is it
murder."
"Did
you meet anyone in the hallway before or after the duel?"
^No one."
"Then
you are safe. Only you and I know what occurred, and I pledge you my word that
I will never tell."
"I
believe you, for though you wear the black of a commoner, you are a
gentleman."
"And
now," continued Jerry, "the best thing for you to do is to go on as
if nothing had happened. You have taken your leave of the Vil, and were about
to depart for your own country. I suggest that you go on, unhurriedly, as
planned. In that case there should be no suspicion .. ."
He
halted his speech suddenly, as the tramp of feet and the clank of weapons
sounded without. Then rising, he seized the pulcho flask, and filling two cups,
handed one to Manith and took up the other. Behind him, he heard the steps of
men entering the chamber, but disregarding it, held the cup aloft, and said:
"A safe and pleasant journey to you."
A
sword flashed out from behind him, striking the cup from his hand and spilling
the contents on the legs of Manith Zovil. Turning, he looked into the
glittering eyes of Thoor Movil. Behind the brown prince stood a dozen warriors,
swords in their hands.
Jerry
forced himself to smile at his enemy. "Rather a boisterous way to announce
your visit, highness," he said, picking up the cup, "but you are
welcome, nevertheless. Manith Zovil and I were just drinking to his safe and
pleasant journey. Won't you and your men join us?"
"It
comports with your every action since you first came to Kalsivar, that you
should choose to be facetious at a time like this."
"Since your highness chose to be
playful, I merely fell in with your mood," Jerry replied, still smiling.
"Courtesy to a guest, you know."
"But
I am not playful, as you will learn soon enough. I am in deadly earnest. Where are your
guards?"
"How should I know?" Jerry replied.
"They were set to guard me, not I, them."
"What
were you doing in the hallway a few moments ago?"
"Nothing. I have been in my apartment
for some little time. Manith Zovil and I have been sitting here chatting. He is
leaving for Nunt, you know, and dropped in to say farewell."
Thoor turned to the
visiting prince.
"Did
you notice anything unusual in the hallway when you came here?"
^Nothing," Manith
replied. "Why?"
"Because Shiev Zovil
has just been murdered there."
"Why,
that's ghastly," said Manith. "I must tender my condolences to the
prince's father and sister. Who do you think did it?"
"I
believe," said Thoor Movil, "that the spy who occupies this apartment
is the one who committed the crime."
"That
would be impossible," said Manith. "He could not commit a murder and
sit here talking to me at the same time. And I believe you do him an injustice
in calling him a spy."
"How was the prince slain?" Jerry
asked. "Stabbed through the throat, as you well know," replied Thoor
Movil.
"Perhaps you have not noticed that I am
without weapons." "True. But you may have a sword concealed about the
apartment."
"I invite you to
search it."
"We
will do that without your invitation. Ho, men, see if you can find the weapon
for me."
The soldiers went to work peering behind all
movable objects and ripping upholstery, but the search was futile.
"Just
as a matter of form," said Thoor Movil to Manith Zovil, "may I look
at the blades of your sword and dagger? I do not suspect you, of course, but I
must be thorough in the line of my duty."
"I
understand perfectly," Manith replied, and tendered his weapons.
Thoor
Movil examined the sword minutely, and returned it without comment, gave the
dagger a cursory glance, and handed it back, also.
"They
are clean, and your highness is absolved," he said. "But there is
something suspicious about your friend, here. I go now to make further search,
but I will leave four men on guard. Would you care to go with me?"
"Of
course," Manith Zovil replied. "I must go back to his majesty the
Vil, at once, to offer my sympathy before I leave." He turned to Jerry.
"Farewell, my friend. I am sure you are innocent, and that his highness,
here, is sure to find the guilty one and clear you."
He
departed with Thoor Movil, and Jerry heard the dark prince post guards outside.
He sat down on the ripped and rumpled divan to think.
Unless
he could find some way to escape from Kalsivar, Jerry reasoned that nothing
could save him except the intervention of Nisha in his behalf. And he did not
want to feel obligated to her.
There
was one, however, in that vast nation, in whose good graces Jerry particularly
wished to remain. He felt sure that, sooner or later, Thoor or his agents would
go to Junia with insinuations regarding him. Best go to her himself, he
thought, ahead of any one else.
Once
more, Jerry went out on the balcony. It had become colder as it grew later. And
the farther moon had risen in the east, while its nearer, swifter companion,
hurtled forward from the west to meet it, the two making visibility much better
than before.
He leaped up, caught the trailing vine, and
pulled himself up to Nisha's balcony. But scarcely had his feet touched thé floor
when a heavy cloak was thrown over his head, strong arms pinioned his arms to
his sides, and he was half carried, half dragged through the window. He kicked
and struggled in an effort to free himself from his unseen assailants, but in
vain. His hands and feet were swiftly and skillfully bound, and with the cloak
still over his head, he was deposited on a divan.
Then
something sharp pricked his side, and a gruff voice said: "If you know
what is good for you, you will remain quiet."
CHAPTER X
Jerbt
succumbed to the inevitable
and gave up his struggles. Then suddenly, to his surprise, he heard a throaty
contralto voice that was strangely familiar—the voice of Nisha.
"Remove
the cloak, Jeth," she said, "and cut his bonds. My brother's men have
gone."
The
cloak dragged from his head, Jerry blinked in the unaccustomed rays of a light
globe which hung above him, and flexed his numb limbs. He was in a small
chamber, evidently the dressing room of Thoor's sister.
A
burly, brown-skinned guard stood beside him, and another stood watch at the
door. Nisha, herself, was looking down at him.
"I
hope my men have not injured you," she said solicitously. "They
acted in the emergency, under my commands, in order to save your life. The
emergency has passed, but you are still in great danger. However, if you are
willing to do as I tell you, it may be that I will be able to
save you."
"You
have been most kind," Jerry told her. "What do you want me to
do?"
"Thoor's
men are searching the palace—in fact, the whole city—for you. I guessed that
you would try to escape by way of the balcony, and set my two faithful men,
here, to watch for you and bring you to me unharmed but incapable of attempting
to escape. And it is well that I did so, because Thoor's soldiers came through
my apartment a moment later and searched the balcony. By telling them I had not
seen you, which was true enough, I prevented their searching this dressing
room.
"I have planned an escape for you, but
it will involve a complete change in your appearance."
Going
to a dressing table nearby, she selected two small flasks which she handed to
Jerry. "This," she said, indicating the first, "will dye your
hair jet black. And this," pointing to the second, "will make your
skin the same shade of brown as my guards'. I will go outside while they help
you."
As
soon as she departed, the two men assisted Jerry to strip from head to foot.
Then one set about applying the black dye to his sandy hair, while the other
painted his skin with the brown liquid. Gazing into the burnished gold mirror,
Jerry was astounded at the transformation; he was, to all appearances, a
racial brother of the two brown men.
One
of them brought him a coarse gray breech clout and headcloak, and a pair of
gray boots—the clothing of a slave. Quickly donning these, -he again surveyed
himself in the mirror. He looked exactly like one of the thousands of
browned-skinned slaves he had seen employed in the palace. A small blue and
orange emblem, stitched to all of his garments, announced that they, and their
wearer, were the property of Nisha Novil. After he had transferred the
contents of the pouch attached to his former belt to the plain gray pouch he
now wore, he was ready.
One of the guards went out and a moment later Nisha entered the room. She dismissed the other guard, and
glanced at Jerry.
"Your disguise seems perfect," she
said after a careful inspection. "Your name is now
Gudo. As Gudo, the slave, you'll shortly be conducted hence in a band of fifty of my slaves, who go to work on the new canal that Numin Vil
is building. Every slaveholder in Kalsivar is required to send one-tenth of his
male slaves to work for one senil, or tenth of a Martian year, on the project. It fortunately happened that they were to
leave tonight, to relieve the fifty who have been working there for the last
senil, and who will return to my service."
"Your highness is most
land," said Jerry.
"At
the end of the senil," she went on, "you will be returned to my
country estate on the Corvid Canal. I will be waiting there for you, and together
we will make plans for the future. Please understand that I am not pretending
altruism or a disinterested friendship. I would rather see you dead than in
the arms of another. You will have one senil in which to think it over."
She
spoke so calmly that Jerry could scarcely believe this was the girl who had
alternately caressed and clawed him a short time before. She handed him a full
flask of the black dye, one of the brown stain, and a third which contained a dear liquid.
.
"You may find it necessary to change your disguise," she said.
"A few drops of this liquid added to a basin of water will make a solution
that will instantly restore your hair and skin to their natural color.
"In
a moment more you must leave. You will be going into danger, perhaps to your
death, though Deza knows I have done everything possible for your safety."
She moved closer. "Can you—will you take me in your arms—hold me for just
a moment? Let me feel your hps on mine just once— willingly? A senil is so
long—and if fate should take you from me, there will be, at least, this
memory."
"I can and will, Nisha," he
replied, suiting his actions to his words. "I like your candor. You're a
girl in a million. It is a pity that love is not a thing we can command like a
slave, or call to heel like a dalf."
"I
know," she replied. Then she turned and called the guards. When they
entered she said: "You have your instructions, and will carry them out at
once."
"Come, Gudo,"
said one, taking Jerry's arm.
"Goodhy,
highness," said Jerry.
"Farewell.
I will always love you," she replied, with a look of longing in her eyes.
Then he passed out the door
between the two warriors.
Jerry's
conductors led him through a series of rooms and corridors into a large
chamber, where an aggregation of gray-clad, brown-skinned slaves waited,
guarded by a company of white warriors. A scribe took down his assumed name
and the name of his owner, and he was herded in with the others.
They
were kept standing there for some time, their ranks constantly swelled by newly
arrived slaves. But presently Jerry noticed some sign of activity at the other
end of the hall. Then he saw that a group of soldiers was painting a number on
the foreheads of the slaves, with red pigment, and thrusting them, feet first,
into a hole in the wall.
He
was greatly puzzled by this at first, but presently his own turn came, and the
riddle was solved. With the painted number still wet on his forehead, he was
thrust into the dark hole. Instantly he shot downward at a steep angle, with a
rapidly increasing acceleration, in an incredibly slippery tube about four feet
in diameter.
At first he descended in a series of spirals,
but presently this changed to a steep, straight incline. Then, gradually, this
leveled out, slowly checking his momentum, until he presently shot out under
the roof of a low shed, to land on a padded platform. Here two guards, waiting
to receive him, glanced at the painted number on his forehead and turned him
over to another guard, who conducted him to a place where a group of his
fellows waited.
By
the dim light of the farther moon—for the nearer, brighter luminary had now
set—he saw that they were on a dock which fronted a canal. Moored to the dock,
directiy in front of him, was a strange craft. It was long and low, and roofed
over in the manner of a whaleback steamer, but with blocks of translucent
material through which the rays from its baridium globes shone forth. But the
strangest thing about it was its populsive mechanism, the visible part of which
consisted of eight pairs of huge-jointed metal legs, each tipped with a webbed
foot like that of a duck. Obviously the craft actually swam on the surface of
the canal like a waterfowL
He
saw a demonstration of this a moment later when a similar boat passed, and was
astounded at the smoothness and speed with which these mechanical legs could
propel the craft over the water.
For
some time he and his fellow slaves stood shivering on the dock. But presently
they were herded aboard the vessel and into several large compartments, each of
which was heated by a globular contrivance which stood in the middle of the
floor.
As
soon as they entered, there was a rush to get near the heating globe, and those
who succeeded lay down to sleep in its genial warmth. Jerry, wearied by his
adventures and exertions and weakened by his wound, was glad to curl up against the outside wall and close his eyes.
CHAPTER
XI
Jerry
was awakened by a sharp
kick in the ribs. A guard was standing over him. "It is time to eat,
slave," he said gruffly.
Following
the guard came a line of slaves bearing large trays of food and drink. The food
consisted of a stew in which were combined fish, flesh and vegetables cut into
small pieces and seasoned with a peppery condiment. The beverage was the
omnipresent pulcho. Jerry ate his stew in the manner of his companions, by
drinking the thin gravy and scooping up the rest with his fingers. Then he slowly
sipped his cup of pulcho, and was ready with the others to hand cup and bowl
back to the slaves' who came to collect the dishes.
The
heating globe had been turned off, but its place was more than taken by the
sun, which was already halfway to the zenith.
Jerry
arose and looked curiously out at the passing scenery. On one side of the canal
he saw a wall, topped by small buildings at regular intervals, and patrolled by
sentries. On the other side a series of broad terraces led downward to another
canal, and another series progressed upward to a third. The terraces were
covered with cultivated gardens and orchards, and dotted here and there with
cylindrical buildings, evidently the dwellings of the Martian
agriculturalists.
The
purpose of these three canals in a single excavation was plain enough. The two
upper and outer canals each watered the system of terraces below it. The total
excavation was about fifteen miles in width. Each canal was approximately a
mile in width, and each system of terraces six miles.
The
canals were dotted with craft of various sizes and kinds. All of the larger
boats were propelled, like the one on which he rode, by mechanical webbed feet,
but some of the smaller ones had sails, and others were paddled like canoes.
The
smaller craft seemed mostly to be engaged in the occupation of fishing, in
which nets, lines and spears were all employed. And Jerry was startled to see
some of the fishermen leave their boats, carrying their spears or nets with
them, and walk on the surface of the water.
Presendy, when he came near enough to one to
observe how it was done, he saw that the fellow wore inflated, boat-shaped
water shoes, on which he glided about with the ease of a skilled terrestrial
ice skater.
The
sun had reached the zenith when the canal on which they were traveling suddenly
came to a junction with another. Jerry judged that they must be quite near the
equator, and verified this by looking at his shadow, which had shortened to
almost nothing. The junction of the triple canals was effected by connecting
the two upper channels of each by means of four viaducts in the form of a
square. These viaducts, each fifteen miles in length and a mile in width, were
supported on tremendous arches high above the terraces and the two intersecting
drainage canals.
The
boat on which they rode turned to the left in the farthest transverse channel,
and after skirting the wall for several miles drew up at a dock. The doors were
flung open and the guards herded the slaves out onto the wharf, where they were
turned over to a new group of guards who had evidently been waiting to receive
them. Here an officer took the records and called the roll.
This
done, they were marched through a tunnel in the thick wall. They came out on a
rather fragile wooden platform, fully two miles above the ground. Directly
below them was the waterless central channel of a great triple canal, still
under construction.
As
far as Jerry could see, this tremendous excavation stretched northward. He saw
men at work on the terraces, evidently leveling them off and getting them into
shape. But the excavating, at this point, had all been completed.
Supported
and reenforced by thick steel cables, a causeway of the resilient red-brown
material used in paving,
slanted down from the platform to the bottom of the depression; on this some
twoscore multiped vehicles waited. Under the direction of the guards, the
slaves mounted the saddles; when all were aboard, the vehicles scampered down
the swaying, trembling causeway.
Despite the skill of its driver, the one in
which Jerry rode would have been jounced off into the jawning abyss beneath had
it not been for the cables which formed a protecting railing on either side. He
heaved a sigh of relief when they were once more on solid footing. They were
now in the dry bed of the central drainage canal, which was composed of solid
rock, so smooth that it looked almost as if it had been planed. And here, the
multiped vehicles gave an example of the speed of which they were capable. The
banks of the canal, and the terraces with their busy workmen, literally hurtled
past them.
Mile after mile of dry channel and barren
terraces reeled past them with a monotonous sameness, until mid-afternoon. Then
the vehicles suddenly slowed down and Jerry caught his first'glimpse of the
digging of a Martian canal.
At
first he thought he saw two lines of huge beasts converging from the center of
the excavation in a huge, extended V, snapping and tearing at the wall of
earth, rock and sand before them. But in a moment he saw that they were not
beasts, but machines, with jointed metal legs and mighty steel jaws. These huge
machines, each operated by a single slave mounted in a saddle on its back, bit
and swallowed until they had filled their capacious interiors, then turned and
climbed the banks to disappear over the tops, while others returned empty and
voracious once more.
Interspersed
among the machines at regular intervals were armed overseers, directing the
work, each driving a small six-legged vehicle.
Behind
the line of devouring metal beasts was another row with the same type of body
and legs, but with shovel-shaped, underslung lower jaws. These jaws created a
terrific din as with sharp, rapid blows like those of trip hammers they planed off the jagged fragments. When
filled, they, like the others, backed away from the line and climbed the slope
to get rid of their loads, while other, empty machines scuttled in to take
their places.
Some
distance behind the scene of operations and pitched upon the newly planed
terraces at either side of the central channel the work camp was situated. It
consisted of about a thousand large, round portable dwellings with dome-shaped
tops, made from furry pelts which would turn back the heat at night.
The vehicle in which Jerry rode turned and
scrambled up the bank to the tent city at the right. It was followed by nine
others. The remaining machines climbed the left bank.
They
came to a halt in front of a tent, before which a man wearing the orange and
black of nobility sat on a swinging divan. An officer handed him a sheaf of
papers, which he conned for a few moments. Then he returned them and waved his
hand.
Instantly,
the guards ordered all the slaves out of the saddles. Then they were drawn up
in squads and marched through the camp, up the side of the terrace to the very
top. Here they crossed a temporary bridge, stretched on steel cables across the
empty upper channel. There were four more similar bridges for the use of the
digging machines, which swarmed across them in endless chains. They emptied
their loads of rubble on the outer bank by the simple expedient of opening
their metal mouths, lowering them, and tilting their bodies up at the rear.
This done, they turned about and scampered back for more provender.
The
Earthman and his companions were issued implements and put to work at once,
reducing and leveling the piles of rubble regurgitated by the machines. The
implement given Jerry was a heavy pole about eight feet in length with a thick
iron disk on one end. This was used like a rake or hoe, to spread the material
about. Then, with the shaft held perpendicularly, it was employed to tamp and
pack the surface.
It was hard work, even for Jerry with his
Earth-trained muscles. And he could realize how much more difficult it must be
for the slaves around him. The sun's rays beat down relendessly upon them, and
the guards urged them on with spear points whenever they lagged.
Men
who dropped from exhaustion and were unable to rise were kicked down the
embankment, to be buried beneath the constantly growing deposit of rubble.
Jerry
worked at the end of his squad, every member of which was a brown man. Next to
him was a squad of white men, and one of them, a tremendous fellow over seven
feet tall and muscled in proportion, was his nearest neighbor. This powerful
giant made play of his work, laughing and chatting with guards and workmen
alike. Presently he called out to Jerry:
"Ho,
slave of Nisha Novil. At last you palace dalfs will have to do a man's
work."
Jerry
grinned back at him. "It must be that you like it, since you call it man's
work."
"Not I," said the
giant, "but because necessity compels. .
He
paused in the midst of his speech and looked upward, a startled expression on
his face. At the same instant a shadow darkened the sun above them. Then
something struck Jerry behind the knees and he fell backward into a large net
with metal meshes. The giant turned to flee, but the net caught him also, and
he was swept back on top of the Earthman.
As the two men sought to disentangle
themselves, the ground receded rapidly beneath them.
Looking
up, Jerry saw that the net which held them hung from two chains which depended
from both sides of a grotesque flying monster with membranous wings, a
fur-covered body, long legs covered with yellow scales, and a flat, duck-like
bill armed with sharp triangular teeth. The chains were fastened to the sides
of a saddle of gray metal, on which sat a brown warrior who was hurling
javelins at the guards below.
A glance around showed that at least five
hundred of these flying monsters had attacked the camp, and all were now rising
with slaves and guards struggling in their nets.
"What
is this? Where are they taking us?" Jerry asked his companion.
"A
slave raid," the latter replied. "Deza help us, for. we are in the
clutches of Sarkis the Torturerl"
CHAPTER XII
The raiding party flew rapidly away, its victims
dangling helplessly in the nets. "I have heard of this Sarkis the Torturer,"
Jerry said. "An outlaw, I believe. But what can he want with us?"
"He wants fighting men, and victims for
sacrifice. This raid will provide both." ^How both?"
"The
captives will be put to the test. Those who can use a sword and are willing to
join the outlaws and worship the Sun God will be spared. The others will be
reserved for sacrifice. But why do you ask all these questions?" He
glanced sharply at Jerry for a moment, then exclaimed: "Ah, I see the reason nowlYou are a white man in
disguise. Who are you?"
Jerry
looked down at his chest, and saw what had betrayed him. Two of the strips of
jembal applied by Nisha to the scratches she had made on his body had been
rubbed off in the scuffle. And along the edges of the scratches his unstained
white skin showed. "Since you know this much, I may as well tell you all," he said.
"I am Jerry Morgan of the planet Earth, which you call Dhu Gong. I got
into trouble in the palace, and had to leave hurriedly in this disguise."
"I
have heard of you," said the big man, a look of admiration in his eyes,
"and of your duel with Arsad, Rad of Dhoor. Since you slew the best
swordsman in all Kakivar, I do not think you will have difficulty qualifying for the service of
Sarkis—that is, if you eare to join the outlaws."
"I
hadn't thought of it," Jerry told him, "but it might not be a bad
idea. I'm an outlaw, myself, sentenced to be flayed alive and sprinkled with
fire powder, whatever that is."
"Fire
powder is a material we use to light fires with," said the giant. "It
is made from baridium, the same substance used in manufacturing our lights, and
ignites when wet."
"Odd
stuff," replied Jerry, "and scarcely a comfortable thing to have
sprinkled on one. But tell me, who are you, and how did you happen to be doing
a slave's work?"
"I
am Yewd, the fisherman," said the giant, "and was accused' of
stealing a boat. I was innocent, but an enemy brought false witness, and the
seven judges sentenced me to work a year on the excavations with the band of
felons you saw me with."
"Then
I presume that you have no cause to love the government."
"You
are a man of sound judgment and rare discrimination," laughed Yewd.
"In a nation where justice is a mockery, on what side should any real man
fight? But unfortunately, I have not the skill with the sword which is likely
to save me from becoming a sacrifice to the Sun God."
"Perhaps I can find a way to save you
from that fate," said Jerry. "And I hope you will be willing to
forget that I am Jerry Morgan, and remember that I am Gudo, the slave."
"That
I will," said Yewd, heartily. "But what are you going to do about
those white streaks?"
"I'll fix them easily enough,"
Jerry told him. He took the bottle of brown liquid from his pouch and stained
all the white lines. "How does it look?"
"A
perfect match, Gudo," said Yewd. "That is great stuff if you want to
change your complexion. At present I am satisfied with mine."
His
disguise completed once more, Jerry looked down at the landscape beneath them.
It was a vast rolling desert of ochre-yellow sand, sparsely dotted by patches
of thorny creepers with large red flowers. "Wherever they are taking
us," he told his companion, "it must be a long way into the
desert."
"The
Torturer and his outlaws have many secret lairs," said Yewd, "and
some of them must be in the desert. But gawrs require much water, and I'll
wager that this time we are being taken to one of the wild marshes of the
district."
"Gawrs?"
"Yes.
The creatures that are carrying us. Have you noticed their webbed feet? They
swim as well as fly."
It
soon became evident that Yewd's prediction was correct, for the flock sailed
over a sheer precipice which edged what had evidentiy once been the shore of an
ancient ocean. Now it was a sloping sandy beach which led down to a marsh, in
which a number of small lakes reflected the slanting rays of the afternoon sun.
Around the shores of several of these lakes were the portable fur huts of a
large armed encampment, dimly seen through a haze of smoke from the thousands
of cooking fires.
The lakes were dotted with swimming gawrs
with then-wings chained down to prevent their flying away. Armed sentinels were
posted on the bluffs and in a wide circle all about the camp. And a score of
them constantly soared high overhead, keeping watch.
At sight of the returning raiding party, a
great shout went up from the camp. Then a number of warriors caught up their
spears and hurried to an open space among the huts, where they formed a large
ring. One of the raiders dropped to the center of this ring until the net
rested on the ground, while the gawr hovered overhead.
Two
soldiers, who had detached themselves from the ring, came forward and ordered
the three captives out of the net. One by one the gawrs descended, hovered and
flew away, until all the nets had been emptied.
The
captured men were a motley group, consisting of white, brown and black men. But the spearmen
who surrounded them were equally diversified as to color, and more so as to
their clothing and ornaments. Jerry noticed, however, that they had one thing
in common. Hanging suspended on the chest of each was a clear crystal disk about six inches in diameter.
The
Earthman nudged his giant companion. "What are those disks for?"
"Symbols of their religion," Yewd
replied, "and magic instruments with which they fight their fires in the
daytime. They are worshipers of Sarkis, the Sun God. At night they must use
fire powder like the rest of us."
Magic
instruments—and for fighting fires. Jerry instantly recognized them for large
magnifying glasses, but he said nothing to his companion. He noticed a stir in
the crowd behind the spearman, and heard cries of:
"Way
for His Holy Majesty! Shield your eyes from the blinding glory of Sarkis, Lord
of the Day and Vil of the Worlds."
A path opened up in the crowd of warriors,
all of whom instantly raised their hands before their eyes to salute a most
repulsive-looking thing. It was on a divan that topped a gilded platform, borne
on the backs of a score of slaves. The thing was obviously a man, large and
muscular. But his face was concealed by a most hideous mask of burnished gold,
fastened to a headpiece on which a thick mat of golden threads formed a
bristling, leonine mane.
The
sharp hooked nose of the mask was covered with red lacquer, and the lips were
blue against a background of yellow fangs. From behind the oval slits in the
black-ringed
eye-sockets a pair of glittering eyes looked forth. The garments were of royal
peacock blue, and those parts of the body which would normally have been
exposed—torso, legs, arms and hands—were covered with a finely woven golden
mesh. He wore a richly jeweled, gold. hilted sword and dagger. And on his chest
there hung a large crystal disk, fully twelve inches in diameter.
At a sign from the masked figure on the
divan, the slaves lowered the platform to the ground and stood with folded arms
on either side of it.
The
Torturer rose, and standing in front of his divan, spoke in weird, sepulchral
tones that echoed hollowly in the golden confines of his mask.
"The
sacrifice comes first," he said. "Then we will make trial of the
prisoners."
At
this, a number of the spearmen herded the prisoners back to a spot at the left
of the divan. Then a lane opened in the lines opposite it, and through this
came a hundred slaves, staggering under the weight of a large metal platform on
which five broad steps had been built. On each step reclined a man, bound in
place by chains tightly drawn around neck, waist and ankles. Suspended above
them on two poles by means of short shafts which allowed it to be turned in any
direction, was a tremendous crystal disk.
This
disk, as the slaves lowered their burden to the ground, had its edge turned
toward the sun. But as soon as the platform had been placed in position, the
Torturer raised his hand, and at this signal two men in yellow robes sprang up
beside the poles and swung the disk around, manipulating it until they had
focused the sun's rays in a brilliant spot of blue-white light, on the floor of
the platform just in front of the lowest step.
This
done, the masked figure raised both hands. Instandy the surrounding multitude
began a slow, eerie chant which reminded Jerry of a dirge. The metal floor of
the platform had already become red hot at the point where the light focused.
With an expression of horror on his features
the man on the lowest step watched the oncoming spot. As it drew close to him,
his skin was seen to redden from the heat it radiated. Suddenly he shrieked, as
the white-hot light touched his side. The chanting grew louder, and in a moment more the agonized shrieking ceased, as the concentrated sun rays
bumed through a vital spot.
The
brilliant, blinding spot traveled onward. One after another the remaining men
shrieked and were silent. The chanting ceased. The smoking platform with its
grisly burdens was carried away.
The
two yellow robed men advanced so they faced both the masked figure on the
platform and the sun.
"Thus,
O Sarkis, Lord of the Day and Vil of the Worlds, do thy humble servants greet
thee at thy rising, hail thee at thy meridian, and speed thee at thy setting,
in accordance with the ancient custom," they said, raising their hands before
their eyes.
The
Torturer dismissed them with a gesture. "Now we will examine the
prisoners," he announced, seating himself once more upon the divan.
Four
men, bareheaded and naked to the waist, emerged from behind the platform. They
stepped in front of the divan and saluted. Two were white, one wearing an
orange cincture trimmed with black, and the other a plain black cincture. The
third and fourth men were brown-skinned and wore the gray of slaves. A short,
squat black man, also wearing the gray of a slave, now approached the man in orange and black, and held out to him a sheaf containing a dozen swords. The fellow selected one, and Jerry saw
that its sides, instead of being saw-edged, were smooth and dull, while its
point was tipped by a small oval bulb. The black passed similar swords to the
other three men.
In the meantime, one of the captives, a brown
slave, was marched up in front of the Torturer. He saluted, and took a sword from the black.
The Torturer leaned forward and looked at him
apprais-ingly.
"We
have here swordsmen of the first, second, third and fourth grades," he
said. "If you would avoid the sacrificial altar you must defeat at least a
fourth grade swordsman. This will make you a common warrior, and you need go no
farther. But if you are ambitious and would be an officer, a harb, then you
must defeat our swordsman of the third grade. Defeat the swordsman of the
second grade, and you will be made a jen. And if you can best our swordsman of the
first grade, you will be made a jendus. Defeat at any stage will render you a
victim for the sacrifice. Which swordsman do you choose to fight first?"
"I
choose the swordsman of the fourth grade, may it please your holy
majesty."
And
as soon as the two contestants had crossed their weapons Jerry saw that there
was good reason for the slave's diffidence. His antagonist had him at the
second thrust, marking him over the heart with a spot of red pigment which
squeezed out of the bulb on the end of the sword.
"To
the sacrifice pens," ordered Sarkis, in his hollow, sepulchral tones,
"and bring the next prisoner."
Man
after man was brought forward. Some were unable to defeat the swordsman of the
lowest grade, and so went to the sacrifice pens. Most of those who won the
first duel were satisfied to stop there and enlist in the army of Sarkis as common
soldiers. But there were a few who aspired to higher honors. One of these
became a harb, and stopped there. Another aspired to be a jen, but was
defeated by the swordsman of the second grade.
When
the fourth grade swordsman had fought ten duels, he was replaced by another.
The swordsmen of the upper grades had so little fencing to do that it was
unnecessary to relieve them. Some fifty-odd men had fought, and a sixth
swordsman of the fourth grade was testing, when Yewd, who stood just in front
of Jerry, was called.
"Farewell, Gudo, my friend," he
whispered. "If it were to be a spear or javelin, I would have a chance. But with a sword I am all
but helpless."
A
shout went up from the crowd at sight of Yewd's giant thews, but as, soon as he
had a sword in his hand, his un-familiarity with that weapon was instantly
apparent. His brown-skinned opponent grinned, played with him for a moment, and
then marked him twice on the chest.
Jerry's
turn was next. The surrounding warriors hooted him as derisively as they had
Yewd. But when he selected a weapon, tested its balance, and whipped it about
with the ease and grace of a practiced swordsman, they grew silent.
The
swordsman of the fourth rank advanced with weapon in readiness, but Jerry held
up his hand. "Wait. I would not waste the time of his holy majesty."
"What
is this, slaved' asked the masked figure on the throne.
"With
your majesty's permission, I will engage only the swordsman of the first grade.
I have seen the fencing of these others, and they would furnish but poor sport
for me. But none has yet tried the mettle of this jendus."
"Why,
this is bold talk," said Sarkis. "But braggarts who cannot make good
their boasting do not long survive among us. Have at him, then."
CHAPTER XIII
Jebby
found his antagonist a
swordsman of unusual talent. And as he fought, there were many times when he
was only
able to save himself from the touch that would have sent him to the sacrifice
pen by the agility which his Earth-trained muscles afforded him on Mars.
And
it was this same factor which, in the end, gave him the advantage. For his
opponent, evidently fearful of the derision of the horde, pressed so fiercely
that he tired himself. Soon Jerry was only playing with the man who had been
the idol of the Torturer's warriors. But he quickly put an end to it by marking
the chest of the jendus just above the heart.
The
face of the latter was a study in mixed emotions-surprise, chagrin, and hurt
vanity. But Jerry's attention was distracted from him by the voice of the
masked man on the divan.
"You
have made good your boast, slave," he said, "and we are ready to
appoint you a jendus in our army if you will prove your devotion to our cause
by truthfully answering any questions I may put to you.. Fail to do so, and
there is still the sacrifice pens. What is your name?"
"Men call me Gudo, the slave."
"Slave of whom?"
"Of Her Highness Nisha Novil."
"Ahl
And you mean to tell me that her highness would send a swordsman of your
ability to work on the canal?"
"That was where she sent me, your
majesty."
"Are you of the brown race of
Kalsivar?"
"If I am not," said Jerry with a
smile, "what am I?"
"That
is what I mean to find out—in a moment," said Sarkis. He turned to a slave
and issued a curt order. The latter dashed away, returning a moment later with
a large basin of water. The Torturer took a small flask from his pouch, and uncorking
it, poured several drops of a clear liquid into the water. After stirring it
with his dagger he beckoned to Jerry. "Come and stand before me," he
commanded.
The Earthman did as directed.
Taking the basin from the slave's hands,
Sarkis commanded: "Remove your headcloak."
As
soon as he had complied, Jerry was drenched from head to foot by the contents
of that basin. To his surprise and horror, he saw that wherever the'water had
touched, his skin had resumed its normal color.
"And
now," said the Torturer, a note of exultation in his hollow tones,
"who are you?"
"I am Jerry Morgan of
Earth."
"And not the slave of
Nisha Novil?"
"No."
"Nor
yet a member of the brown race of Kalsivar. Nor do men call you Gudo. You have
lied to me, and you know the penalty. To the sacrifice pens with him. And see
that he is the first victim to greet the great Lord Sun at his rising tomorrow."
Jerry
was hustled away through the jeering crowd to the gate of a large inclosure,
surrounded by a stone wall thirty feet in height. A guard opened the gate, and
he was hurled through by his burly conductors.
A
big hand reached out to help him. It was the hand of Yewd, the fisherman.
"I
did not think to see you here," said the giant, "and with your
rightful color restored. This Sarkis must be a wizard, in very truth."
"At
least he is a good guesser," replied Jerry, "or what is more
probable, is someone who saw me at the court of Numin
Vii"
"There
may be some truth in that. I have heard that the Torturer spends much time away
from his army, and that he comes and goes alone in his great metal flying
machine. Each time he leaves, he flies straight toward the sun until his craft
is lost to view, and gives out that he is returning to his home in the
sun."
"I'm
afraid he would need a better insulated suit and mask than the ones.he is
wearing for a visit to the sun," said Jerry. "Can his people actually
believe he goes there?"
"Many of them do," replied Yewd.
"Others, I am convinced, only pretend. They have joined
forces with him because he has always been victorious, and because his raids
afford much loot."
While they were talking the last of the
victims from the raid was thrust into the pen. And shortly thereafter, night
fell with the suddenness common to Mars, where there is little light refraction
in the thin dry atmosphere, and no perceptible twilight. The pen was plunged
into instant darkness.
In
the deeper shadow of the wall, Jerry was carrying on a whispered conversation with Yewd.
"You
say the pen is on the edge of the lake, and that the gawrs swim riderless only
a short distance from the shore?" he asked.
"If
they remain as they were before I was brought hither. But I don't see how it
will be possible for you to leap to the top of the wall."
"That
is a detail you must take on faith. In any event, we are all doomed men, and an
attempt to escape cannot put us in worse case."
"You
are right," agreed Yewd. "Let us then pass the word among the others,
and see who is willing to make the attempt with us."
"Tell
them to take off their belts and give them to you," Jerry said, "and
I will do likewise. Twenty belts will easily reach over the top of the wall and
to the ground on the other side. I'll meet you here when we have made the
rounds."
A
few moments later Yewd and Jerry collided in the darkness. "Have you some
belts?" asked the Earthman.
"More
than we need," the giant replied. "I have twenty-seven."
"And
I have thirty-two," Jerry told him. "We will construct two lines.
Every man is coming with us, and thus we will be able to get them over the wall
with more speed."
As
soon as the two long chains of belts had been fastened together, Yewd cleared a
path for Jerry. Absolute silence had been enjoined upon all, but there was a subdued murmur of wonder as they heard the Earthman run and spring, and
a moment later saw him outlined against the stars as he drew himself up onto
the wall.
The
end of each chain of belts had been hooked to the back of his own belt. But he
left them there for a moment, as he paused to cast a swift, cautious look
around him. There were no guards between him and the water's edge. Most of the
campfires had burned down to beds of glowing coals, but the sounds of revelry
were loud and there was the mixed medley of songs, and drunken quarrels.
Assured
that the way was clear, Jerry swiftly unhooked the two chains of belts, and
lowered one on each side of him until ten belts had passed each hand and he
knew that the ground had been reached. Then he gave one line a gentle shake,
after which he gripped it with both hands and braced himself on the opposite
side of the wall. A heavy weight was thrown on that chain of belts, but Jerry's
powerful Earthly muscles were more than capable of supporting it. And in a few
moments Yewd was on the wall beside him.
Yewd
jerked a signal to the men beneath him, and as soon as the line grew taut,
descended on the other side, where he grasped the ends of both lines.
Retaining
his seat on the top of the wall, Jerry directed operations by signaling to
those below each time a man had reached the top of the wall on either line,
until he had counted sixty, and the pit was emptied. Then, drawing up the ends
of the lines, he dropped them on the outside, and letting himself down as low
as possible by hanging onto the outer rim of the wall, dropped after them.
Silently the men resumed their belts, and
then, forming a great human chain by clasping hands in the dark, they silently
advanced to the water's edge. Here they paused for a moment, while Yewd
whispered the final instructions.
"Remember,
not a sound or a splash," he cautioned. "It may be that we will
become separated from one cause or another. If so, our place of rendezvous will
be the southern end of the Tarvaho Marsh. Pass the word along, then swim out,
seize the gawr nearest you, and fly straight north."
The
human chain broke into its units, with the exception of Yewd and Jerry. Because
the latter knew nothing whatever about managing a gawr, the two had decided to
attempt to make their escape on the same bird-beast.
A short swim brought them to the side of a
great bird-beast which snorted and shook its head as the two men climbed to its
back. Yewd, seated in front, unsnapped the ends of the two chains which
trammeled the creature's wings by being hooked through perforations in the
membrane around one of the wing-bones. The double purpose of these chains
became evident to Jerry when, a moment later, the giant fisherman snapped one
to his own belt and the other to that of the Earthman.
"It
is customary for a rider to attach both chains to his belt each time he mounts
a gawr," explained Yewd, "to prevent his falling to the ground in
case he slips from his saddle. But since there are two of us, 'we must be
content with one chain each."
There
was a light rod, fastened at one end to a short rope which was hooked around
the gawr's neck, and at the other, to the pommel of the saddle. The giant now
raised the rod, whereupon the great bird-beast swam swiftly forward, then took
to the air with a mighty flapping of wings. This was the signal which had been
agreed upon for the others to take off. And their advent into the air was
followed by a mighty splashing and flapping all about them.
It
was followed, too, by shouts, from several of the sentinels who had heard the
noise and thought the bird-beasts had been attacked by some of the monster
saurians which were known to inhabit the marsh.
But
before the mounted guards had reached the remainder of the herd, the sixty
stolen gawrs were silently winging their way northward in the darkness, high
above the marsh. Pursuit parties were instantly organized, to fly in all directions, as it was impossible to tell
which way the fugitives had gone.
In the meantime Jerry and his party flew
steadily toward the north, unable to see each other in the darkness and guided
solely by the blazing stellar constellations overhead, with which every Martian
is familiar.
Presently,
however, the nearer moon popped above the western horizon, and by its light
Jerry saw that the gawr which he and Yewd bestrode had fallen quite a distance
behind the other bird-beasts.
"Looks as if we are
going to be late for the rendezvous."
"The
creature has a double, nay a treble burden," replied Yewd. "I weigh
as much as two average men, and you are not small, by any means."
They lagged farther and farther behind until
their fellow fugitives were out of sight. Shortly thereafter the beast
fluttered groundward despite Yewd's frantic tugs at the guiding rod. Although
they were now flying over the desert, far to the north of the marsh where
Sarkis was encamped, the bird-beast had selected a small, tree-covered oasis at
which to land.
As soon
as it alighted it folded its wings, ran in under the trees and splashed into a
shallow pool, where it knelt, taking sips of water and refusing to rise or
move.
Yewd
unsnapped the ends of the chains from his and Jerry's belts—then fastened them
to the gawr's wings.
"We
may as well dismount and get some rest, ourselves. It will not stir from this
place until it has fully recovered from its fatigue."
They
accordingly got down from the saddle and stretched themselves out on the sand
beneath the thick canopy of trees. Scarcely had they done so when Jerry saw
baridium torches flashing overhead, and looking up, saw a large party of flying
warriors.
"Deza
be-praisedl" exclaimed Yewd. "We have been preserved from capture by
the sudden weariness of our bird-beast, and the thick foliage above this oasis.
Had it continued
to fly with us at the rate we were traveling we should soon have been
overhauled."
When
the last of their pursuers had passed, Jerry settled down once more in his bed
of sand.
He
was awakened by a slanting shaft of bright sunlight, which had penetrated the
surrounding foliage and shone directly in his face. Sitting up and looking
about him, he saw that Yewd had already arisen and was standing beside the pool
looking at the gawr, which had slumped over in a most unnatural position.
"What's wrong?"
he asked.
"Come
and see for yourself," Yewd told him. "We are in sore straits."
Hurrying
to the giant's side, Jerry saw that the bird-beast was dead. Blood had drooled
down from the corners of its beak to form a congealing, bluish red pool upon
the bank.
"What killed it?"
Jerry asked.
Yewd
pointed to the place where neck and body joined. From this spot several sharp
spines projected through the skin.
"It
swallowed a dagger fish. Must have been dying when we mounted it back at the
marsh. The wonder is that the creature carried us this far."
"Looks
as if we'll have to walk the rest of the way," the Earthman observed.
"It
looks as if we are doomed. For between us and the Tarvaho Marsh is an immense
stretch of trackless desert, inhabited by fierce beasts, hostile tribes and
deadly insects."
CHAPTER
XIV
Jerry
smiled grimly. "Last
night we were in the sacrifice pen of the Torturer," he said. "Every
man in that pen considered himself doomed. Don't give up hope."
"Although
I can see no ray of hope, you somehow give me
courage," said Yewd. "At least we have weapons. There is a sheaf of
javelins fastened to the saddle. I modestly
confess that few men are my equal with spear or javelin. One has to be quick
and accurate to spear fish."
He
climbed up, removed the sheaf of javelins from the saddle, and after passing
one of the multi-barbed weapons to Jerry, slung the rest over his back.
"It
is unfortunate that we have no water bottles to take with us," said Jerry.
"But we had best drink our fill from the pool before we start, blood or no
blood. And now shall we start?"
"I am ready," said the giant.
And
so they set off across the rolling dunes of ochre-yellow sand.
When
noon arrived both men were tired and thirsty, but there was no sight of an
oasis and pool.
Presently
they came to a gently sloping hillside, strewn with gray boulders, and by
mutual consent, decided to pause for a rest.
Jerry
sank down on one of the boulders, and to his surprise, found it soft and
yielding. With suddenly aroused curiosity he pricked it with the point of his
javelin and a clear viscous liquid welled forth.
"Look, Yewd!" he
exclaimed. "Here is a stone that bleeds."
The
giant looked, then dipped a finger into the sticky liquid and tasted it.
"Deza
be thanked!" he exclaimed. "These are not stones, but fungoid plants
that we call torfals. Had you not made this discovery we might have died from
hunger and thirst in the midst of plenty. But this liquid supplies a balanced
ration of food and water."
Jerry
tasted the liquid. It was sweet and slightly acid, with a syrupy consistency,
and a flavor that reminded him both of bananas and muskmelons. Pressing on the
skin around the incision he had made, he drank his fill. Yewd, meanwhile, had
tapped another torfai, and was drinking thirstily.
When
both had finished they arose, refreshed, and each taking as many medium sized
torfals as he could conveniently carry, they plodded on into the afternoon.
The
sun was midway toward the horizon when suddenly, upon crossing an unusually
high ridge of sand, they came to a large oasis where the waters of a small lake
gleamed among the tree trunks. With glad cries, they hurried toward it. But
they had scarcely entered its grateful shade, when they heard shouts, cries,
and the clash of weapons from some distance beyond. They judged from the
sounds that a considerable force of men was engaged in some sort of cavalry
battle, but because of the intervening trees and shrubbery, were unable to see
the contest. Here was a serious situation for Jerry and Yewd. They were hidden
for the moment, but they were in grave danger of being discovered.
Cautiously
Jerry and Yewd crept forward in the concealment of the shrubbery, until Jerry,
parting the branches ahead of them, saw two parties of warriors, each numbering
about a thousand men, in deadly combat.
Those
nearest the oasis were mounted on the backs of large, two-legged creatures that
were neither true birds nor reptiles. They stood about five feet high at the
shoulder, but their long necks, covered with bright green scales, held their
ugly reptilian heads to a height of ten feet. These heads were much like those
of large serpents, except that they were tipped by crests of curling white
plumes and there was a sharp, straight horn on the snout of each. Their
birdlike bodies were covered with thick yellow down, and the legs, like the
necks, were armored with bright green scales. The wings were merely short
bunches of white plumes attached to tiny useless stubs.
They
were fitted with saddles somewhat similar to those used on the gawrs, and
equipped with large quivers that held the javelins of the riders.
The
riders were obviously of the white race, though well tanned by the sun. Their
clothing consisted of cloaks, evidently made from the downy hides of creatures
like those which they bestrode, headdresses of the white plumes, which were
attached to the back of the head and spread out, fan-wise above the face, and
cinctures and boots of leather. Their thighs, arms and torsos were protected by
scaly plates, evidently made from the leg coverings of their mounts. And in
addition to javelins, sword, dagger and mace, each was armed with a long shaft
like that of a lance, but tipped with a pair of sharp tongs.
Their
enemies were similarly mounted and armed, with the exception that their mounts
had black plumes instead of white, and they used these for their headdresses.
All the riders' of both warring factions wore the crystal disks which marked
them as worshipers of the sun.
The
battleground was strewn with dead and dying warriors, whose comrades on both
sides fought above them. Although they were using every type of weapon, their
favorite seemed to be the strange shaft tipped with tongs. With these, riders
on both sides seized their enemies and dragged them from their saddles, the
sharp points piercing them deeply.
The
chief purpose of the things, as was plainly evident, was not to kill, but to
capture enemies. On each side, Jerry noticed a detail of warriors guarding wounded prisoners who had been dragged from
their mounts to the back of the lines.
"Who are these
people?" Jerry asked his companion.
"Wild
desert lorwocks," Yewd replied. "They are ferocious fighters and
slave-raiders. Perhaps you have noticed that the tuzars, the long weapons they
carry, are admirably adapted for slave taking."
"Rather hard on the slaves, I should
say. But when those things once grip them, they have to come."
While
they watched, the battle surged nearer and nearer the oasis. Jerry's attention
was attracted to one of the white-plumed lorwocks, evidently the chief. And
though his force was being driven steadily backward by their black-plumed
opponents, he charged again and again into the lines of the enemy, each time
dragging back a limp, bleeding prisoner at the end of his tuzar, while he
fended off hurled javelins with his sword blade.
But
presently, as he returned to the fray, a cloud of javelins descended upon him
simultaneously from many directions. Some he parried and some he dodged, but
there was one that pierced his neck, whereupon he went limp in the saddle. His
mount wandered erratically for a moment, then turned and charged straight into
the bushes where Jerry and Yewd were concealed. They leaped aside just in time,
but the thing stopped and looked inquiringly at Jerry as if asking him to
relieve it of its limp burden.
Yewd
sprang in and caught the guiding rod, while Jerry examined the stricken
chieftain. He was quite dead.
"Here are-weapons, and a mount for
one!" exclaimed Yewd. "If we only had another rodal, we would not
need to walk or fear to encounter armed enemies."
At
this instant, another riderless mount dashed into the bushes. With a swift
spring, Yewd seized the guiding rod and leaped into the saddle.
"Come, let us be off
before the warriors see us," he said.
"No, wait. I have a
more ambitious plan," Jerry told him.
Swiftly
he removed his own clothing, and stripping that of the dead chieftain from him,
donned it, along with his weapons. The tuzar had been lost, but the other
weapons were intact.
"By the power and glory of Deza!"
exclaimed Yewd, when he had finished and leaped into the saddle. "You seem
a very lorwock chief. But come, let us start before we are detected."
"I have a better plan," Jerry told
him. "From what I have seen, I am convinced that we could not travel far without being traced
by these tribesmen. But if we join them they may accept us as friends and
allies. Will you follow me into that battle?"
"With all my
heart."
Jerry
handed him all of the javelins but two from his own quiver.
"You
prefer javelins—I the sword. Follow closely, keeping off enemies from my sides
and back. I will attend to those in front. Let us see if we cannot turn the
tide of battle."
By this time the black-plumed lorwocks had
driven their closely pressed adversaries into a defensive semicircle by
executing an encircling movement at each end of the line. And the horns of the
great crescent thus formed were swiftly drawing together.
One
hom of the crescent had just reached the oasis when Jerry pushed forward on the
guiding rod. His rodal charged.
The
Earthman steered his swift mount so that instead of charging with the other
white-plumed warriors, he was riding behind the attacking line of black-plumes.
As these warriors had their tuzars extended toward the line of white-plumed
warriors, they could not use them on him, but could only turn in their saddles,
snatching out their swords or javelins for defense.
Some
who thus turned their attention away from enemies in front of them were
instantly dragged from their saddles by the tuzars of the white-plumes. Some
fell beneath Jerry's flashing blade; the others were pierced by the javelins of
Yewd.
As a result, the line of black-plumes was
thrown into confusion. In less than five minutes the entire right horn of
their crescent had been shattered and put to rout. But Jerry continued on
through the center and around to the left hom, cutting and thrusting as he
rode, while the deadly javelins of Yewd kept off enemies from his sides and
back.
The Earthman's unexpected coup completely turned the tide of battle and won the day for the
white-plumed lor-wocks. With shouts of triumph they pursued the shattered
remnant of their fleeing enemies, dragging them from their mounts with their
tuzars, while others captured and herded together the riderless rodals. Jerry
estimated that at least seventy-five per cent of the black-plumed warriors had
been killed or captured. The rest were fleeing for their lives.
When the last enemy and rodal had been
rounded up, the white-plumed warriors and their lesser officers crowded around
Jerry and his giant companion. Then one of the jens, who had evidently been
consituted spokesman by his fellow officers, said:
"Though we know not who you are nor
whence you came, riding the rodal of our jendus and wearing his garments, my
comrades and I salute you and your slave, and bid you welcome." So
saying, he raised both hands before his eyes, and all the others followed his
example.
"There
has been a prophecy among you that a fighting man would come to lead you to
victory," said Jerry. "An impostor, who hides his face behind a
mask, and blasphemously calls himself the reincarnation of Sarkis the Sun God,
has gathered a considerable following. But I tell you now that I am he who has
come in answer to your prophecy. I learned the art of war on another planet; I
am that leader for whom you have been waiting."
When
he had finished he calmly took out his cigarette case, selected a cigarette,
and lighted it. The effect on the lorwocks when they saw smoke insuing from his
mouth and nostrils was instantaneous. To a man, they clapped their hands over
their eyes and bowed to their saddle horns.
"As I told you," said Jerry, when
the warriors ventured to look up once more, "I do not claim to be the
reincarnation of Sarkis. I am Jerry Morgan of Dhu Gong, and will be so called.
I have come to gather the desert hordes beneath my banner. And those who ride
after me now will have the honor of being the first to do so. For the present,
I ride north."
So saying, he wheeled his mount, and with
Yewd following close after him, rode away. To a man, the lorwocks fell in
behind him with their prisoners and captured rodals.
CHAPTER XV
Two days
after he had achieved
command of the white-plumed lorwocks, Jerry led them down the side of a steep
declivity and across an ancient, boulder-strewn beach, to the shore of a small
lake at the southern end of the Tarvaho Marsh.
"This,"
he told his jens, "will be our chief camp for the present. From here we
will send messengers to the desert hordes, announcing that a new leader has
come, and that the days of the Torturer are numbered."
At
the opposite side of the lake, Jerry saw the gawrs that had been captured by
the escaped prisoners. And on the shore, in their improvised camp, he saw the
prisoners themselves. He called Yewd to his side. "Ride around the
lake," he commanded, "and tell our comrades to cross the lake and
join us."
A
half hour later the two forces were joined, and Jerry found himself in command
of eight hundred mounted lorwocks, fifty-nine gawr riders, and three hundred
prisoners. After a conference with his jens, he called the black-plumed
prisoners together and addressed them, telling them he was going to release
them and send them as messengers of good will to the black-plumed tribes,
inviting them to join him.
After1
he had made his speech he smoked a cigarette to impress them, and sent them on
their way.
In
ten days, his forces augmented by thousands of desert tribesmen and escaped
slaves, Jerry made his first raid on the central camp of Sarkis. Five thousand
of his newly recruited men crossed the marsh with water shoes in the dead of
night. Then, while a number of the Earthmen's lorwocks created a disturbance on
the bluffs above the Torturer's camp, Jerry's men mounted and escaped with five
thousand gawrs. As he had anticipated, Sarkis had placed a guard around the sacrifice
pens, but had thought his flying bird-beasts safe.
When
the Torturer learned that it was Jerry Morgan's men who had raided his camp, he
swore that he would bring the Earthman and all of his followers to the torture
platform; and on learning of his camping place, set out with a huge armed force
to crush him.
But Jerry's flying scouts quickly reported
the movement of Sarkis's immense army, and when the Torturer reached the
Tarvaho Marsh he found it deserted.
The
Earthman's forces reassembled at a new rendezvous, but not before they had
raided two of the Torturer's lesser camps, in one of which they captured, in
addition to many slaves and much rich loot of all descriptions, fifty large
metal flying machines. Each would accommodate fifty warriors in addition to the
pilot. The glazed windows could be opened to admit the air, or covered with
metal shutters to keep out enemy projectiles.
When
he reached his new rendezvous and distributed the loot, Jerry found, among
other things, several thousand suits of clothing. Among these were many outfits
of rich black material intended for sale to wealthy commoners. The Earth-man
selected a number of outfits that suited him as to size and cut, with
appropriate silver mounted weapons and silver trappings. And though he might
have worn the peacock blue of royalty, he chose rather to be known as the
Commoner.
He also caused pennons to be made of black
material, each
edged with silver fringe and centered with a single silver star.
As
the days passed, Jerry's army swelled rapidly. Not only was he joined by the
desert hordes, escaped slaves, outlaws, and deserters from the Torturer's army;
even the great nobles of Kalsivar, who were dissatisfied with the policies of
Numin Vil, began throwing in their lot with him. The fame of his exploits
spread rapidly, all over Mars.
But
despite his rapid rise to power and unprecedented series of victories he was
still an outlaw, with a price upon his head. Numin Vil now believed the
Earthman to be the murderer of his son, and even Junia was convinced by the
evidence Thoor Movil had brought forth, Jerry heard.
Numin
Vil, further angered by the desertions of many of his nobles, gave orders that
the army of the Earthman should be crushed, his followers slain without
quarter, and himself brought in, dead or alive.
Though
he might have brought the expedition sent against him to grief, Jerry rather
chose to avoid it. Deep in his heart was the hope that some day he might again
be in the good graces of Junia—that he might be able to prove to her that he
was innocent of her brother's death.
The
Torturer, who had no such scruples as Jerry regarding the imperial forces, met
and surrounded the first expedition, then annihilated it, killing or capturing
every man and officer present. In this battle the Torturer kept himself well
out of sight and ordered the black-and-silver standards of the Commoner to be
shown. Then, at the conclusion of the battle he permitted several prisoners to
escape to Raliad with the story that the army had been crushed by the forces of
the Earthman.
Among those in the imperial palace who
listened with bated breath to the recital of each new exploit of the Commoner,
was Nisha Novil. The princess had never for a moment given up hope of making
him her own.
Accordingly
she ordered her luxuriously appointed flying machine one bright morning, giving
out that she intended to
visit her estate on the Corvid Canal. But before she started she had a brief
conference with her brother, Thoor Movil.
"I
will make a bargain with you," she said. "Accompanied by your spy,
Wurgul, to show me the way as we had planned, I will visit this Commoner in his
main camp. If he accedes to my wishes I will spare his life. If not, I will use
my dagger. But in case I spare his life, you are to intercede for him with the
Torturer and the Vil. And when you have become Vil of Kalsivar, you are to
spare him. Do you agree?"
"On
the one condition that you persuade him to give up his command and go with you
to your country estate. As long as he has an army at his back he remains a
menace."
"I will accept that
condition. And now, farewell."
"Farewell,
and may success reward your undertaking," said Thoor, rising and walking
to the door with his sister. But he smiled to himself, for he had already
issued special instructions to Wurgul, who was to conduct her to Jerry's camp.
Nisha
was amazed at the size and orderliness of the outlaw camp. It was a city of
portable huts, laid out around a central plaza from which all streets radiated
like the spokes of a wheel. And in the middle of this plaza was a large hut of
black fur.
As
soon as the flier had passed over the bluff, two others out of a score circling
above the camp flew up and challenged them. When the colors of the princess
were shown, her pilot was ordered to descend at a cleared place on the edge of
the camp.
The
machine alighted, then came to a stop. The ladder was dropped, and Nisha Novil
stepped out, followed by Wurgul the spy. She was met by an officer and a squad
of men, who accorded her the royal salute. In answer to her inquiries, they
told her that the Commoner was in camp, conferring with his jens, and summoned
a multiped vehicle for her.
Accompanied by the officer and Wurgul, she
rode along one
of the streets of'the camp until they came to the central plaza. Here they were
challenged by a guard, who insisted that both the princess and her follower
deposit their weapons with him before going farther.
Nisha
protested, but when she saw that it would be impossible to proceed without
complying with this order, surrendered her jeweled dagger, and ordered Wurgul
to give up his sword, dagger and mace.
A
soldier raised the silver curtain which draped the central doorway of the black
hut. And the officer who had come with the two visitors, announced: "Her
Royal Highness, Nisha Novil."
Nisha
swept into the room with Wurgul at her heels, and caught sight of Jerry. Seated
among his officers, his black clothing and plain silver trappings contrasted
oddly with their brightly colored garments and their gold, platinum and
flashing jewels. Yet, as he rose to greet her, she saw that he was easily the
most striking figure in that assemblage.
"This
is an unexpected honor and pleasure, your highness," he said, rendering
her the royal salute. "May I present my nobles and officers?"
"Later,
Jerry Morgan. At present I am wearied by my journey. And I have a message for
your ears alone."
"It
shall be as your highness wishes," he told her. Then he addressed his men: "The meeting is adjourned until I send a new summons."
The
nobles and officers arose and filed out, each saluting the princess as he
passed her. When the last man had gone, there remained only Jerry, Nisha and
Wurgul. The Earth-man looked significantly at the spy, whereupon the princess
ordered him to wait outside the door for her.
"Won't
you be seated and' have some pulcho?" invited Jerry. He indicated his own
swinging divan and a small taboret beside it on which stood a steaming flask of
freshly brewed pulcho, surrounded by a dozen jewel-encrusted, platinum cups.
Nisha sat down and Jerry filled a cup for
her. After she had
accepted and tasted it he filled another for himself, and stood before her.
"You
need not be formal, Jerry Morgan. Come and sit here beside me."
"Indeed, I prefer to stand for a
while," he replied. "I have been sitting in conference all morning.
And now won't you tell me in what way I may be of service to you?"
"You—you
make it so difficult for me, with your formal ways."
"I'm
sorry," he answered. "My intentions are quite the reverse."
"When
last we parted," she told him, "you were to think over a certain
matter, for the space of one senil. At the end of that time we had arranged for
a rendezvous at my country place on the Corvid Canal. But the rendezvous was
not kept, nor have you vouchsafed me an answer. I have been so lonely for
you—so hungry for even a small sight of you.
"Once
more I offer you all that any man might desire— myself, my love, and the
wealth, position and power which will fall to the lot of my husband. Think,
Jerry Morgan. Before another senil has passed I will be sister to the Vil of
Kalsivar. Give up this futile life of outlawry and come with me to my country
estate. There we can be quietly married, and I can promise you that within a
senil your power in Kalsivar will be second only to that of the throne, itself,
for you will be the brother-in-law of the Vil."
"I
hope you will believe me, highness," replied Jerry, "when I say that
it grieves me more than I can say to decline your offer. As you say, I am an
outlaw, under sentence of death. And furthermore, I am indebted to you for life
itself. But somehow, marriage is a thing I have always associated with love.
And unfortunately, love is a thing which cannot be coerced or commanded. Where
love enters, it commands. We who are its subjects can only
obey, no matter where its dictates lead us."
At
this Nisha's black eyes flashed and Jerry expected another outbreak. But it
did not come. Instead, she arose and said meekly:
"Then this is the end. It is farewell forever. Let us not part in anger."
Slowly she walked up to
where he stood, arms outstretched.
"One last kiss,"
she whispered.
Her hand hovered above the silver mounted
hilt of his dagger. With a sudden, snake-like movement
she seized it, wrenched it from its sheath, and lunged for his breast. But the
Earthman was too quick for her. He Caught her
wrist in a grip of iron, wrenched the weapon from her
grasp.
In
the meantime Wurgul, who had been standing outside the silver curtain, engaged
the guard who stood there in a conversation.
While they conversed, he managed to move against the curtain in such a way as
to push it back, permitting him a glimpse into the room. He saw that Jerry was
standing with his back to the doorway, holding the wrists of the raging
princess.
For an instant, he fumbled in the folds of
his headcloak. Then, with one hand still concealed, he raised the other and
pointed skyward. "What strange craft is that?"
As
the guard looked up, Wurgul's other hand came out from beneath the folds of his
headpiece, clutching a short, straight dagger. The blade flashed
downward—plunged into the guard's back up to the hilt.
Wurgul turned, flipped back the curtain, and
ran noiselessly up behind the Earthman. Nisha saw him coming, but save for a
widening of her eyes made no sound or sign. He lunged straight-for the
unprotected back of the Earthman.
CHAPTER XVI
As Jerry
held the raging little
princess away from him, he suddenly noticed that her eyes had gone wide,
as if she had seen something startling behind him. He flung her back across the
divan, and whirled around just in time to see Wurgul lunging at him.
There
was no time to seize a weapon, but Jerry blocked the stroke with his left hand
against the wrist of the assassin. Then he drove a smashing right to the point
of Wurgul's jaw. The spy slumped to the floor,
unconscious. At the same moment an officer and a half dozen guards rushed into
the room.
"This
murderer just slew Shuvi, the guard," cried the officer. "Stabbed him
in the back."
"Put him in the prison
pen. I'll attend to his case later."
As
two warriors carried out the still unconscious Wurgul, Nisha came to her feet.
"I suppose I, too, must go to the prison pen," she said defiantly.
"Or perhaps you will order my execution at once."
Jerry
smiled grimly down at her. "Neither," he answered. "You sought
only to take that which you once saved for me—my life. I have not forgotten,
and I am not ungrateful. You are free to go."
At this Nisha laughed
bitterly.
"You
are a generous fool, Jerry Morgan," she said. "If you were wise, you
would keep me here—make me your slave. I warn you that once I am free, I will
leave no stone unturned to compass your ruin."
Jerry
turned to the officer, who stood with his four men, awaiting orders. "You
will conduct her highness to her flier."
Nisha
walked out with head held high, and in her black eyes was the feral gleam which
the Earthman knew meant trouble.
Jerry
sat among his officers, conferring on future plans of campaign until a late
hour. One thing they had all urged upon him was that he should select from
among his followers two men who would be his constant companions night and day,
in addition to the regular guard.
He
chose Yewd, the giant fisherman, and a black dwarf named Koha, a queer,
misshapen creature whose brawny arms were longer,than his legs, and whose great
shoulders were as broad as those of the giant. He could throw daggers with
deadly accuracy, and carried a heavy, long-handled mace with which he had
bested many a swordsman by the simple expedient of smashing through guard and
skull.
The
Earthman had dismissed his officers, and was preparing to retire for the
night, with Koha stretched across his doorway, and Yewd standing guard behind
his divan, when a messenger came running up to the doorway.
"A
herald has arrived from Sarkis the Torturer," he announced.
"Admit him," said
Jerry.
With
Yewd standing on guard at one side of his divan, and Koha at the other, Jerry
awaited the herald, who said: "I bear a challenge from His Holy Majesty,
Sarkis, Lord of the Day and Vil of the Worlds. Tomorrow afternoon, when the
great Lord Sun has spanned three-fourths of the sky, his holy majesty will
leave his entire army on the Heights of Zokar, which overlook the Plain of
Ling, and will ride along to the center of the plain.
"If
Jerry Morgan is the leader that he claims to be, he will leave his own army on
the Heights of Lokar, which overlook the plain from the opposite side, and
ride down alone to do battle with the Lord of the Day. And there, within sight
of the two hosts, let the issue of single combat determine who is the true
leader foretold in the prophecy, and who the imposter."
"You
will await my answer outside," said Jerry. Then, as the herald passed
through the curtained doorway, he turned to the giant fisherman. "What
think you of this, Yewd?"
"Though my poor wits fail to read the
riddle," replied the giant, "they plainly
tell me that there is one. Perhaps this Sarkis honestly believes he can beat
you in single combat. But it is not his way to take such a risk."
"And
what think you, Koha?" asked Jerry, turning to the dwarf.
"I
think the Torturer wishes to bring the two armies together so there may be a great battle, which, by some trick, he is confident of
winning, though there be little difference in Strength," said the black man.
"And
yet," said Jerry, "I cannot do otherwise than accept this challenge.
To fail to do so would smack of cowardice."
"That is true,"
agreed Yewd.
"It
would seem that the Torturer has put us in a position where we must walk into his trap. Let the herald remain outside, and call a
conference of the officers."
This
was done, and for some time Jerry was cloistered with his men. Then he sent for
the herald. When the fellow entered, he said: "Tell Sarkis that Jerry
Morgan accepts his challenge."
The
herald saluted and departed. But as soon as he had gone, the camp began to dissolve
away in the moonlight. Piece by piece, the portable fur huts came down, were
rolled up and stowed on the backs of the pack-rodals, along with all other camp
articles and utensils.
Before
the night was an hour older, a vast cavalcade, shadowed by a flapping host of
gawr riders, climbed up onto the plain, and started in the direction
of the Heights of Lokar.
"Always
do what the enemy expects you not to do," Jerry had told his officers. "Sarkis will expect us to leave tomorrow morning, so we will leave now. Thus, we will be the first on the field, and in a position perhaps to thwart him, or to leave if a trap is revealed."
Jerry's
army reached its objective without incident, and pitched camp. Save for the
sentinels on duty, all the men were permitted to sleep late the following
morning, so they
would be fresh for battle. But to Jerry's surprise, morning and noon came and
went without a sign of the Torturer.
Presently,
however, near midafternoon, his gawr sentinels announced the approach of a vast
horde. Shortly thereafter the army of the Torturer took up its position on the
Heights of Zokar, facing them across the Plain of Ling, and the black cloud of
gawr riders which accompanied it settled to the ground.
After
a delay of more than two hours, during which the Earthman watched with bated
breath, a lone warrior mounted on a rodal came trotting down the hillside
toward the center of the plain. The slanting shafts of the late afternoon sun
were reflected by the burnished gold of his mask.
Yewd
had his rodal and weapons in readiness, and it was but the work of a moment to
mount and ride down the hillside at full charge toward the gold-masked
champion.
The
latter, on seeing Jerry, halted his beast near the middle of the plain and
waited, evidently in no hurry to begin the engagement. He carried a tuzar, but Jerry, who had not mastered this weapon, carried a long, stout-shafted lance, instead.
As
soon as the Earthman came within a hundred
feet of his enemy the latter lowered his tuzar and charged. Jerry couched his
long lance, and with it pointed at the breast of his adversary, urged his beast
forward.
The
masked rider, however, swerved his mount, and while Jerry's lance encountered
only empty air, the sharp points of the tongs clamped into the Earthman's hips.
He was jerked from the saddle, and his enemy rode swiftly toward the enemy
lines, dragging Jerry over the rugged ground.
A mighty cheer went up from the lines of
Sarkis, at sight of this easy victory for their champion.
In
the meantime, Jerry seized the tongs and dragged himself to a standing posture. Then, still clinging to a tong with his left hand, and
sailing over the ground with tremendous leaps, he unhooked his heavy,
saw-toothed mace from his belt and brought it down with all. his strength on
the shaft of the tuzar.
The tough wood cracked, but the long fibers
still held. Again and again Jerry hacked at that stubborn shaft. It seemed ages
before the last fiber snapped, and he fell free, his mace flying from his hand,
while the tongs released their hold and clattered
after him.
Half
stunned and covered with blood, bruises, scratches and dust, Jerry lay on his back, breathing heavily. From the corners of his eyes he saw his
adversary wheel his mount, and flinging away his useless shaft, draw a sharp,
multi-barbed javelin from the sheath at his back.
Cautiously,
the masked man rode toward his fallen and motionless antagonist, his javelin in
readiness. Jerry was breathing more easily, now, and felt his strength
returning. Suddenly he saw the javelin arm fly back—the deadly barbed missile
hurtling straight toward him.
In a
flash he had rolled over, just out of Teach of
that keen point. And then, before his enemy had divined what he was about, he
sprang to his feet and bounded straight for the hideously masked figure. The
mounted warrior reached for another javelin but before he could withdraw it
from the sheath the Earthman had sprung up behind him and caught him with an
elbow crooked about his armored neck.
Now it
was the turn of the masked man tobe
jerked from his saddle. Jerry, while they fell, had released his hold on his
enemy and alighted catlike on both feet. He whipped out his sword and turned to
face his adversary. The latter got up and drew his own sword.
For
some time both contestants fenced cautiously. Then Jerry, after a swift feint,
found the opening he sought, and lunged straight for his opponent's breast. His
point went true to the mark, but his blade bent double and snapped in two. In
an instant he realized that the masked man wore a metal breastplate. With a
triumphant laugh his enemy drove a savage blow.
Jerry saved himself from
death by a quick leap to one side. Then, before the masked man could draw back from that lunge, he
struck again with the broken stump of his sword. But this time, he plunged it
with unerring accuracy, through the right eye-slit of the golden mask—through
the eye and into the brain of his enemy.
At
this, a tremendous shout went up from the army of the Earthman. It was answered
by jeers from the army of the Torturer, and Jerry, looking in the direction of
this strange demonstration, saw the reason. For the Torturer himself was being
borne on his platform of state, straight down toward the front of his own
lines.
Jerry
wrenched the stub of his sword from where it was wedged in the bony orbit of
his fallen foe. Then he tore the mask from the lolling head. The dead face that
looked up at him was that of the jendus he had defeated in the Torturer's camp.
Hurling
the hideous mask from him, Jerry turned and walked back toward his own lines.
Two riders dashed down to meet him, Yewd and Koha. The white giant led a
saddled rodal. The black dwarf brought him a new sword and a flask of steaming
pulcho.
After
a copious draught from the flask, he mounted and rode back to his headquarters.
Here his chief surgeon awaited him, and cleansed and dressed his wounds while
he held conference with his officers.
Despite
the furious anger of his men, however, Jerry ordered his officers to hold the
men in check.
"Have
I not always counseled you," he said, "to do what the enemy expects
you not to do? If we go into battle with the army of Sarkis now, we will be
doing precisely what he expects us to do. We will sit quietly for a time—and
see what happens. When the time comes, we will make some plans of our
own."
Scarcely
had he finished this pronouncement when one of his gawr scouts came sailing
down out of the sky. Dismounting, he ran up before the Earthman and saluted.
"Numin Vil is coming up behind us with a
vast host," he cried excitedly, "which outnumbers our force at least
two to onel> We are trapped between two mighty armies!"
CHAPTER XVII
There
was consternation on the
face of the officers, but Jerry, standing in their midst, smiled confidently.
"Just as I suspected. It is well that we did not attack the army of
Sarkis, for then, weakened by our losses, we should have fallen an easy prey to
the forces of Numin Vil."
As a
matter of fact, this was the last thing Jerry had suspected. But now he must
think, and think fast, if his command was to be saved from annihilation. He
knew, also, that his men must be given something to do to keep up their morale.
"Pack
equipment," he ordered, "but do so in such a way that the enemy will
not notice. For the present, leave the huts standing. But have them ready to
pack at a moment's notice."
As
his officers hurried away to carry out his orders, Jerry sat down and poured
himself a cup of pulcho.
"Why
not march south or north?" suggested Yewd. "We are only hemmed in
from the east and west."
"You
surprise me, Yewd. What do you think our enemies would be doing, in the
meantime?"
"I don't know."
"Nor do I. But I believe they could and
would march south or north as fast as we, in the meantime gradually converging
upon us from both sides. And they might corner us in a much worse place than
this hilltop, where we have some advantage of position."
"But even our lofty position will not
avail us against such superior numbers," said Koha.
"If
it could, we should have no problem," Jerry said. "But since we have
a problem, I am seeking to solve it. Fetch me a gawr, and I'll have a look
about."
The
dwarf waddled hurriedly away, returning a few moments later with a saddled
bird-beast. Jerry mounted, pulled up on the- guiding rod, and soared aloft.
First he flew out over the Plain of Ling, and had a look at the army of Sarkis.
There was considerable activity among the hordes of the Torturer.
He turned, and soaring higher, flew back
across his own camp toward the forces of Numin Vil. As he urged his great
flapping bird-beast onward, the sun dipped suddenly beneath the horizon, and
the rolling desert below him was lighted only by the pale rays of the farther
moon.
Presently,
he described the advancing army of the Vil of Kalsivar.. It was a formidable
host, and he knew that it would be disastrous to pit his smaller force against
it. He calculated that, unless Numin Vil struck with his aerial forces first,
he would not be able to attack, for at least a half hour. Accordingly, he
turned and flew back to his own camp as fast as his bird-beast would carry him.
Before
he reached his headquarters the farther moon had set. But campfires had been
lighted both in his own camp and in that of the Torturer, and by these he was
able to locate his own hut, and descend.
Here
he found his chief officers clustered, more panic-stricken than before. But he
had made his plans, now.
First, he ordered all fires quenched. Then
the huts were dismantled and packed with the other equipment. As soon as this
had been done, all in pitch darkness and with a: minimum of noise, he formed his little army into a great triangle, with the pack-rodals in the center, the
rodal cavalry forming the three sides, and the gawr riders and metal fliers
flapping in wedge formation overhead. Though he might have ridden on a gawr, or
in one of the metal flying machines, he chose rather to lead the main body of
his army, and so rode at the point of the triangle which faced the position of
Sarkis, with Yewd riding close at his left, and Koha at his right.
It
was difficult for the men to see each other's positions in the gloom, and there
were some collisions as they charged straight for the position of the Torturer.
Scarcely had they crossed the plain when the vanguard of Numin Vil appeared on
the heights they had just deserted, carrying his baridium torches.
Urging
his men to greater speed, Jerry led them up the hill. At any moment, he
expected a counter-charge from the forces of Sarkis, and was puzzled when it
was not forthcoming. The twinkling campfires were burning as brightly as ever,
and he could see men moving back and forth before them. But as he drew closer,
he saw the reason. Not one of the vast city of huts which had been there that
afternoon was standing, nor were there any rodals in sight.
The
giant Yewd saw the situation almost as soon as the Earthman, and burst into
noisy merriment.
"By
the might of Dezal The Torturer played a neat trick on us. And had you not
decided to give him battle, we would now be back on the Heights of Lokar,
vainly striving against the powerful forces of the Vil."
"We
haven't escaped yet," said Jerry. "Numin Vil is close behind us, and
the nearer moon is due to rise soon." He called to the officers who rode
nearest to him. "Pass the word along to break up into small groups, and
scatter. Let all lor-wock warriors return to their own tribes, and remain with
their families and friends for the space of ten days. At that time, our meeting
place will be the Marsh of Atabah. Let those who have no tribes or families to
return to, live where they will in small groups until the time for our
rendezvous arrives.
"I go, now, to the Atabah Marsh, with my
fliers."
He
signaled a large airship which had been flying overhead, and it settled
swiftly to the earth before him. Then he dismounted and entered, accompanied by
Yewd and Koha.
Swifdy
and quietly his orders were carried out. So that by the time the forces of the
Vil had passed the Heights of Zokar and the nearer moon had risen, the trail
they followed had split up into many, which spread out fan-wise, and gradually
grew more tenuous as they advanced, until there were a thousand small trails,
no single one of which it would be worth the while of an army to follow.
Jerry
led his flying contingent straight to the Atabah Marsh. A few portable huts
which had been stowed in the airships were set up. But most of the gawr riders
bivouacked under the clear sky, wrapped in their furs. Later, their
pack-rodals, if uncaptured, would be in with the rest of the huts and supplies.
As the Earthman sat in his hut, eating a meal
which Koha had hastily prepared, and sipping his pulcho, the more he thought
about it the more he was convinced that the Torturer had some purpose beyond
that of involving him in a battle with the forces of Numin Vil.
Accordingly,
he called in the jen of his scouts, and ordered that a hundred gawr riders take
the air at once, flying in all directions, to bring him news as to the
locations of both Sarkis and Numin Vil.
As
soon as the jen of scouts had gone out, he sent for his jen of spies. After a
brief conference it was decided that twelve spies, each starting alone and
leaving at irregular intervals, should fly to Raliad and attempt to learn what
was taking place there.
Early
the following morning Jerry was awakened by the black dwarf, who proffered him
a cup of steaming pulcho, and said: "A spy has just returned from Raliad
with important tidings. Will you see him now?"
"Admit him," said
Jerry.
A small, mild-mannered brown man in the
garments of a slave entered on Koha's invitation.
"What have you learned, Eni?" asked Jerry. "Sarkis is in
Raliad."
"WhatI You mean he has
been taken prisoner?"
"Far
from it. While Numin Vil was pursuing our army, the Torturer led his forces to
the west gate of Raliad. His appearance was a signal for those in sympathy
with the revolution to fall upon the loyal soldiers and guards who remained.
The gates were thrown open to him by traitors, and he marched straight to the
palace with almost no opposition.
"All
the members of the white nobility who were unable to escape were either slain
or made prisoners. The brown nobility have been assigned their ranks, titles
and estates, and the brown prince, Thoor Movil, has been proclaimed Vil of
Kalsivar."
"But Junia! What of
her?"
"She
is a prisoner in the palace. And the Torturer has offered her the choice of
marrying Thoor Movil, or dying under the burning disk."
"And has she made a
choice?"
"That I have not
heard."
"But what of Numin
Vil?"
"He
returned to Raliad late last night, but the gates were closed to him, and the
warriors of Sarkis manned the walls. He attacked repeatedly, but each time was
driven off with heavy losses. Early this morning he withdrew his forces and
pitched his camp on the Plains of Lav, within sight of the city,"
"You have done well, Eni," said
Jerry, "and I will see that you are suitably rewarded. Await my further
orders outside."
As
the spy saluted and backed out of the doorway, Jerry turned to his two guards
and counselors.
"At
last we begin to see the depth of the Torturer's cunning," he said.
"This
time it seems he has outguessed me, though I was able to defeat part of his
plans. It was his intention to dispose of me, to wipe out my army, and to
weaken the army of Numin Vil, all this while he was capturing Raliad."
At
this instant a guard drew back the curtain and announced: "Algo the spy,
from the camp of Numin Vil."
"Let him come
in," said Jerry.
A
tall, soldierly white man of middle age, dressed in the uniform of the Palace
Guard, entered and saluted.
"Eni
has told me what befell last night," Jerry told him. "Who set Numin
Vil on our trail?"
"It
was Nisha Novil," said the spy. "Yesterday afternoon she came
hurrying into the audience chamber, and asked for an immediate hearing on a
matter of grave importance. It was granted, and she told the Vil a slave of
hers, retrirning from her country estate on the Corvid Canal, had flown near
the Heights of Lokar on his gawr, and had seen your army encamped there.
"Numin
Vil sprang down from his throne, ordered a force assembled, and set out at the
head of it, bent on annihilating us."
•
"She said nothing about the force of
Sarkis being encamped opposite us on the Heights of Zokar?" "Not a
word." "Ah!"
Jerry sprang up from his divan.
"That
will be all, Algo. You may return to the camp of the Vil, and-report in two
days."
As Algo saluted and
withdrew, Jerry turned to Koha.
"Fetch
me the clothing of a palace slave, I am going to the Imperial Palace in
Raliad."
CHAPTER XVIII
Disguised as a brown-skinned palace slave with the
crystal disk of a sun-worshiper on his breast, and mounted on a swift, sturdy
gawr, Jerry flew toward Raliad, unheeding the picturesque scenery which
unrolled swifdy beneath him.
On
sighting the imperial palace, Jerry soared high above it in order to select the
best place for a landing. He saw that the Torturer had stabled a number of his
gawrs in the lagoons of the palace roof garden, something Numin Vil had never
permitted. However, this made it easier for Jerry to reach his objective; he
decided to land on the roof of the palace itself.
He
accordingly selected the lagoon which was nearest that side of the edifice on
which he knew Junia's apartments to be situated, and soared down to the .sloping
beach. A brown-skinned attendant, who wore only a leather breechclout, came
hurrying up.
"You
cannot alight here, slave," he said, gruffly. "Only the warriors of
Sarkis and Thoor Vil may stable their gawrs in these lagoons."
Without
replying, Jerry untied and tossed him the thong which held the end of the
guiding rod to the saddle. Then he sprang to the ground.
"Have I not said that you cannot land
here?" demanded the attendant.
"Fool!" said Jerry. "I'm the
bearer of important tidings for his holy majesty. Would you like it known that
you have delayed me? For such as you there is the burning eye of the Lord
Sun."
"Forgive
me, my lord," said the attendant, abjectly. "I did not know you for a
messenger of the holy one."
"See
that my mount is well fed and watered, and hold him here in readiness for my
coming, as I may be leaving soon, in a hurry."
"I hear and obey ' my lord,"
replied the attendant, saluting respectfully.
Jerry
swaggered away in the direction of the nearest vehicle tunnel. But as soon as a
turn in the walk took him out of sight of the attendant, he slipped off through
the shrubbery toward the thick wall that edged the roof. Here he mounted a
stairway, and, going to the edge of the wall, peered over the balustrade.
It
took him but a moment to identify the balcony of Junia, which was in the upper
row, by the swinging divans with their golden chains and cushions of peacock
blue, flanked by taborets of gold inlaid with lapis lazuli, which could only
adorn the apartments of the Vil or his immediate family.
Reaching
beneath his headcloak, Jerry now took out a coil of light, tough rope. Going to
a point directly above one end of Junia's balcony, he made one end of the rope
fast and dropped the coil. It fell among the potted shrubs, and the Earthman
noted that it reached all the way, with a good twelve feet to spare.
After
a swift glance around, to make sure that he was not observed, he swung over the
balustrade and slid down the rope, alighting on the balcony without a sound.
Cautiously, he made his way among the plants to a point opposite the window,
and peered between them into the apartment.
His
heart pounded wildly as he caught sight of the girl who meant more to him than
life itself. Junia was seated before a small taboret, loaded with a variety of
dainties. A brown-skinned slave girl was urging her to eat, but she would only
sip a little pulcho from a tiny jeweled cup.
As
he crouched there in the shrubbery, deliberating as to the best way to approach
her, he suddenly saw a look of loathing come over her features. She was gazing
toward another part of the room which he could not see. Someone had entered,
an armed man, evidently, for he distincdy heard the clank of weapons.
Then
Jerry recognized the hollow, sepulchral tones of Sarkis the Torturer.
"I have come for your decision,
princess. The great Lord Sun nears the zenith, and the time for the noon
sacrifice is near at hand. You will give me your word, now, that you will wed
with Thoor Vil at once, or you will go beneath the burning eye."
Again there was the clank of weapons, and the
Torturer stepped into view before Junia. Behind him came two burly black
warriors.
The girl stood up, and said defiantly:
"You have asked for my answer. Take it then, nameless one who hides behind
a mask lest his face be identified with his own evil deeds. I will not marry
the false Vil, my cousin, and your puppet. You have offered me two choices, but
Deza presents a third."
So
saying, she suddenly turned and sprang through the window.
"Seize her!" shouted the Torturer.
Before she was halfway across the balcony one of the burly blacks had her.
At
this Jerry whipped out his sword and sprang from his hiding place. A single
bound brought him directly in front of the astounded guard, and a sweeping cut
sheared through the fellow's head from crown to chin.
"Courage,
highness," he said, as Junia Jerked her arm free. He whirled to confront
the second warrior, who ran at him with his point extended. Deftly the Earthman
parried the thrust, then caught the charging black on his blade.
The
masked Torturer was now running toward the door which led to the hallway,
bawling for the guard. Jerry snatched his mace from his belt and hurled it with
all his might. It flew straight to the mark, smashing into the rear of the
golden helmet and flattening the Torturer upon the floor.
Leaping
over his foe, Jerry reached the door and shot the bolt, just as a considerable
body of men came rushing up from the outside. When they found the door locked
they began hacking at it with their weapons, but Jerry knew it would be some
time before they could break through.
Sheathing
his sword, he caught up his mace and replaced it in his belt. He was tempted to
tear the mask from the face of the recumbent Torturer, but knew that he must
make every second count in order to carry out his plans. Snatching a
blue-and-gold curtain from a doorway, he ran out onto the balcony. Junia was
standing near the railing.
"Who
are you?" she asked. "Don't come near me or I'll jump."
For
answer, he cleared the space between them at a single bound and flung the
curtain over her.
"I
know you now, Jerry Morgan," she said, "for there is no other man on
Mars who can jump like that. Release me."
"You
must trust me, highness," he said, bundling the fabric more tightly about
her slender figure, "for I have come to save you. If you resist you will
only put us both in peril."
"How can I trust the
murderer of my brother?"
But
Jerry had no time to reply. Flinging his bundle over his shoulder, he hurried
to where the rope trailed on the balcony. With his dagger he cut off a
twelve-foot length, and quickly made a sling by which he swung the girl across
his back. He could hear the door of the apartment splintering as he started to
climb, hand over hand, toward the balustrade above.
The attendant, seeing the strange bundle upon
his back, looked surprised, but Jerry said, sharply: "Bring me my mount
quickly, fellow! Can't you see I'm in a hurry?"
Evidendy
still puzzled, yet afraid not to obey him, the man waded into the shallows and
led the great bird-beast out onto the sand.
Jerry climbed into the saddle, made the thong
of the steering rod fast, and, unhooking the safety chains from the gawr's
wings, hooked them through the rings in his belt. At this instant there was a
shout from the nearest tunnel mouth, and a group of warriors came running out.
"Stop
him!" called an officer. "Stop that slave! He has stolen the
princess!"
The Earthman lifted the
guiding rod and the huge birdbeast, after running clumsily along the beach a
few feet, spread its great wings and took to the air.
As
soon as he was out of javelin range above the palace roof, Jerry turned his
mount's head toward the Plains of Lav beside the Corvid Canal, where he had
heard that Numin Vil was encamped. He planned to restore Junia to her father,
then escape before his identity was discovered.
Scarcely
had he flown across the palace area when a score of warriors mounted on gawrs
rose in pursuit. The Temple of Mercy lay directly in his path, and on this he
saw that one of the Torturer's immense burning glasses had been placed. This
was surrounded by a group of yellow-robed priests, who were encircled by a
company of brown warriors, some of whom led gawrs.
As
he flew straight toward them, one of the warriors chanced to look up. Instantly
he called the attention of his companions, and in a moment they had mounted and
soared aloft to head off the Earthman.
Jerry
was now faced with the necessity of flying across the city, almost at right
angles to the course he would have chosen. Some time passed before they flew
over the great wall which marked the edge of Raliad. Jerry knew that sooner or
later, with his doubly laden bird-beast, he would be overtaken and slain
unless he could reach a body of his own flying warriors. Accordingly he tried,
by turning the head of his mount a little at a time, to steer a course toward
the Marsh of Atabah.
He
had flown thus for some time when he suddenly noticed that the sun no longer
beat down upon him. Looking up, he was astounded to see that it was obscured by
the upper fringe of an immense, reddish-brown cloud which, trailing backward
and downward like a ragged, twisted garment, reached clear to the ground.
Never, in all his experience on Mars, had
Jerry seen a cloud, but he had been told of the terrific sand storms which
sometimes swept the face of the planet.
There could be little question but that the
cloud now bearing down upon him with such amazing speed was a cloud of sarid
and other debris picked up from the surface of the land by tremendously
powerful winds. He saw a ragged streamer creep up on his pursuers. It caught
them. For a moment they were tossed about like leaves in a gale, then the cloud
swallowed them up.
Swiftly Jerry let down his headcloak and drew
the transparent, flexible mask with which it was equipped across his face.
Tucking the cloak down around the precious bundle on his back, he awaited the
onslaught of the storm. He noticed that his mount dropped a transparent inner
eyelid over each eyeball, and a thinly perforated membranous flap over each
nostril.
There
was a roaring, rumbling noise behind him now, that swiftly increased in volume
until the sound was deafening. Then the storm struck.
At the first impact of that giant force the
gawr turned completely over, and for a moment Jerry hung from his safety
chains. Whirling, hurtling particles of sand beat against his clothing and
mask, sifting into the interstices and getting into his eyes, ears and
nostrils. The gawr righted itself, and he dragged himself back to the saddle,
gripping the horn and clinging with all his strength.
The world above, below and around him was
blotted out by a maelstrom of flying sand.
Hours
passed thus, and still the storm showed no sign of abating. Presendy the gawr
began fluttering weakly, and turning over and over, sank rapidly groundward.
Suddenly
it struck a solid object with a terrific impact. Jerry was hurled forward with such
force that the safety chains tore out his belt rings.
CHAPTER XIX
When Jerry regained consciousness someone was
shaking him, calling his name.
"Jerry Morgan, speak to mel O Deza,
grant that he still lives!"
He
opened his eyes and looked up into the frightened face of Junia, bending over
him as he lay on his back in the sand. The slanting rays of the afternoon sun
shone brightly down from a clear sky.
"Junia!" he
exclaimed. "Are you all right?"
"Yes. And you?"
He
sat up and his head throbbed painfully. Exploration with his fingers revealed a
lump, that was sore, but not dangerous.
"Apparently
I collided with something as hard as my head," he said, getting dizzily to
his feet, "but there are no permanent injuries."
Junia
did not reply. As soon as she had learned that he was not badly hurt her manner
had altered perceptibly. And Jerry guessed the reason. She could not feel other
than antagonistic toward the supposed murderer of her brother.
"Highness,"
he said, "I wish I could prove to you in some way that I am not guilty of
the—the crime which you seem to think I committed."
At
this she turned on him and said, almost fiercely: "I wish to Deza
that you could! But mere assertion proves nothing."
He
walked over to where the bird-beast was lying, half-buried beneath a drift of
sand. It was breathing heavily, with its great membranous wings outspread, and
its head stretched out upon the ground. He pulled up on the guiding rod, but
when he released it the head dropped back as before.
With the flat head of his mace he scooped the
sand away from one side. Suddenly he noticed blood in the sand around the wing,
close to where it joined the body. An examination revealed the fact that the
bone was snapped asunder. The gawr would never fly again, and he realized that
it must be suffering horribly.
Resolutely he walked to where the head lay on
the ground and, raising his mace, drove the keen saw-teeth down through the
creature's skull into its brain. "We will have to walk," he called to
Junia.
"Apparendy,"
she replied, "since you have just destroyed our only other means of
transportation."
"If
you will look at the gawr's left wing you will see the reason."
At
first she seemed determined to do nothing of the sort, but presently her curiosity
got the better of her, and she walked over and looked.
"Oh,
the poor creature!" she cried. "And you slew it to end its suffering.
Forgive me, Jerry Morgan."
"Willingly,"
he answered. "And now have you any idea where we are?"
"I'm
afraid I can be of no help," she said, "for this terrain is as
strange to me as to you. And the desert, after all, is much alike all over
Mars."
He removed the sheaf of javelins from the
saddle of the bird-beast and slung it over his shoulder. Then he rolled up the
hanging in which he had carried the girl, wrapped the rope about it, and slung
it beside the sheaf.
"Come on," he said. "Let us
climb to the highest sand dune we can find. Perhaps we will be able to sight
something besides desert."
The highest dune in sight lay to the
northwest of them, and toward this they plodded through the soft sand. Upon
mounting to its top they made out, far to the south, a chain of low hills
sparsely dotted with vegetation. In every other direction there were only barren
dunes of ochre-yellow sand.
"Where there is vegetation there may be
food and water," said Jerry. "Our best plan will be to go
south."
A
walk of some five miles brought them to the foot of the hills they had descried
from a distance. On close inspection they did not look so inviting. The sparse
clumps of vegetation were mostly thorny shrubs that offered neither food nor
shelter. And there was no sign of water.
They
reached the top after a short climb, and Junia cried out in pleased surprise at
the sight which lay before them. They were looking down into a green valley,
through which a narrow stream meandered. Here was water, and perhaps food, for
plants and shrubs which grew along the banks of the stream made it probable
that there would be edible fruits or nuts.
With renewed hope in their hearts they
hurried down the hillside, and made straight for the stream. Rinsing his
folding cup, Jerry offered it to Junia. But she declined it, and drank from her
cupped hands. They remained beside the stream for some time, drinking and
bathing their faces in the cold water. Then Jerry arose.
"I
think we had best be going," he said. "The sun is low, and as yet we
have found neither food nor shelter."
Without
a word she arose and followed him along the river bank. Presendy, he noticed a
fin cleaving the water near the shore. He drew a javelin from his sheath and
cautiously stalked it. Presently it came close under the bank, and he drove the
multibarbed weapon straight down through the water in front of that fin. It
struck something solid.
But
scarcely had he driven the point home when the half was wrenched from his hand.
An immense and hideous head on a long scaly neck reared itself high above him,
taking the javelin with it, and he saw that he had speared the neck of a huge
saurian.
The
giant water lizard opened an immense mouth that was armed with a triple-row of
sharp, back-curved teeth, and, with a loud hiss, darted straight for this thing
which had had the presumption to annoy it with a javelin.
For a moment Jerry stared, too astounded to
move. But when he saw it darting toward him his Earth-muscles carried him
straight back in a tremendous flying leap to where Junia stood.
The
saurian floundered up out of the water on two immense flippers, hissing
angrily, and dragging an amazingly huge body out onto the bank.
Jerry
caught Junia up as if she had been a child and, turning, sprinted away at his
best speed. The saurian turned back toward the river, still hissing its anger
and shaking its neck to dislodge the annoying javelin.
When
he had placed a good mile between himself and his pursuer, Jerry stood Junia on
her feet once more, and paused for a short breathing spell.
"I
thought I had speared our dinner," he said, "but I came near
furnishing a dinner, instead. What do you call that thing?"
"It
is a histid," she replied. "They are quite common in wild marshes and
lakes."
"Well,
this histid has made a vegetarian out of me," said Jerry. "I no
longer have the craving for fish that I had a few moments ago."
They
moved on once more, following the curving bank of the stream. Presently the
ground grew soft and boggy beneath their feet, the water oozing up around them
at each step. Then suddenly, with a peculiar sucking sound, a round trapdoor in
the bog flew open just in front of Jerry, and a long, slimy thing as large as a
boa constrictor darted out. At the end of the thing was a white sucking disk,
which clamped itself to the Earthman's chest. He was lifted off his feet, then
dragged downward to the very rim of the hole beneath the trapdoor, which was
about three feet across.
Jerry
bridged himself across that hole. The slimy thing that had seized him threshed
about beneath him, almost tearing the skin from his chest in its efforts to
drag him down. Then he heard a scream from Junia.
Supporting himself with his knees and left
hand, he
snatched his long dagger from his belt with his right. Then, with the keen
edge, he cut through his slimy enemy, just below the sucking disk, and sprang
erect. Junia was being fought over by two of the things, which had both seized
her simultaneously.
Transferring
his dagger to his left hand, Jerry whipped out his sword with his right, sprang
forward, and simultaneously severed the two snaky necks. Then he sheathed his
dagger and, throwing Junia over his shoulder, ran across the sucking ooze toward
the higher ground.
The
two severed disks still clung to Junia, one on each side of her waist. Drawing
his dagger, he slit one from side to side with the point, then peeled it away.
Beneath it, the blood had begun to ooze through a thousand little punctures in
the soft white skin. Swifdy he removed the other, and then slashed and ripped
off the one that clung to his own chest.
Taking
a bottle of jembal from his belt pouch, he applied the antiseptic gum to her
wounds. Junia was pale and trembling.
"Once
again you have saved my life, Jerry Morgan," she said. "If only ..."
"Yes,
I know. Somehow, some day, I'm going to prove to you that I am innocent."
"Deza
speed the dayl" she said. "And now, let me dress your wound."
She
took the bottle from his hand and deftly applied the liquid gum. She had
finished dressing his wounds and was handing him the bottle when suddenly her
eyes went wide.
"Lookl Look behind you!" she
exclaimed.
CHAPTER XX
At Jdnia's
cry Jerry whirled around,
then gave a low whistle of amazement. A monstrous thing was wading toward them
across the narrow stream. As he gazed, it emerged upon the bank, a gigantic and
hideous bird, fully forty feet in height.
Its
long lean neck and scrawny body were leathery and bare of feathers. On its huge
head was a waving crest of plumes. Its beak, which was four feet in length and
two in width at the base, was hooked like that of an eaglei The short wings
were covered with sharp spines in lieu of feathers. The long scaly legs were
adaptable either for wading or swimming, and there were leathery webs between
the toes, which were armed with immense, sickle-shaped talons.
"What is it?"
Jerry asked.
"A'
koroo," Junia told him. "The aquatic cousin of the koree, the great
man-eating bird of the desert. Like its desert relative, it is fond of human
flesh. But the koroo is- much larger and considered far more formidable."
"It's
certainly big enough," he replied. "We would just make about one
mouthful apiece for it. Do you think it has seen us?"
"I
think not. Let us move away as slowly and quietiy as possible, and seek a place
of concealment."
Slowly,
cautiously, they crept up the stony bank. Jerry, meanwhile, kept a sharp watch
on the monster, which raised its plumbed head to its full height and cocked an eye
in the direction of the fleeing couple. At sight of them its crest rose and its
horny wings, which had been hanging at its sides, were suddenly elevated to a
horizontal position. Then, with a peculiar booming cry, it charged swiftly
toward them.
"It
sees us!" said Jerry excitedly. "We may as well spring for it,
now."
He caught up Junia, flung
her over his shoulder, and started up the hillside with huge leaps that almost matched the giant
strides of the bird.
Jerry ran as he had never run before. But the
fifteen-foot legs of the monster koroo shortened the distance between them with
alarming rapidity. Soon the Earthman could hear it stertorous breathing behind
him. Then he noticed a dark hole in the hillside, just in front of him. Like a
hunted animal seeking cover, he plunged into it.
He
took his baridium torch from his belt and unhooded it, flashing it about to
assure himself that there was no formidable creature lurking there. He was in a
roughly circular cave, about thirty feet in diameter, with a twelve-foot
ceiling. Swifdy he ran to the opposite side of the cave and faced about.
The koroo was now peering into the hole, its
head cocked to one side. Seeing its intended prey standing in the back of the
cave, it lunged forward. But its long neck would only negotiate about half of
the distance, and the opening was not large enough to admit its shoulders.
Temporarily
baffled, the monster backed out and began scratching and tearing at the opening
with its immense talons. After it had enlarged the hole considerably, it again
lunged forward. This time its shoulders passed through.
Jerry
took a javelin from the sheaf he carried and, running up close to the hideous
head, plunged it into one huge, glaring eye.
With
a squawk of pain the koroo backed out of the cave, shaking its head and clawing
at the shaft of the weapon in an effort to dislodge it. The barbs held, but the
shaft was snapped off like matchwood. Blinded in one eye, the man-eater again
hurled itself into the hole. Once more Jerry ran forward, and this time threw a
javelin with all his strength into the other eye.
Again
the giant bird backed out, shaking its head and clawing at the shaft. Then it
lost its balance and rolled end over end down the steep hillside, loosening a
small avalanche of stones and gravel. About halfway down it brought up against
a huge boulder with a crash, and lay still.
Drawing
his sword, Jerry half slid, half ran, down the hillside to where the koroo
lay. He pricked it with the point, but it did not respond. Sheathing the larger
weapon, he took out his dagger, and, after laying back a section of the
leathery skin on the breast, cut out a large slab of meat. With this he
returned to where Junia waited in the cave mouth.
"At
last we have food," he said, depositing the meat on a flat boulder.
"I have never heard of anyone eating
koroo," she said. "Nor I," replied Jerry, "but I'm hungry
enough to eat crushed rock."
Swiftly
he gathered a pile of dry brush and dead leaves, and powdering a small quantity
of the latter, lighted them by focusing the rays of the setting sun on them
with his crystal disk. Soon he had an efficient cooking fire crackling, and
when it had burned down to a bed of glowing coals, grilled several slices of
the meat.
Politely
he passed the first slice to Junia. She attempted to bite off a piece, but was
unable to so much as dent it with her teeth. Jerry tried another with similar
results. It tasted like a slab of sole leather flavored with fish oil, and was
neither palatable nor chewable.
"There
seems to be an excellent reason why you never heard of anyone eating
koroo," he told Junia.
"Apparendy,"
she replied. "Yet the flesh-flies seem to enjoy it."
She nodded in the direction of the carcass,
and Jerry, following her gaze, saw that virtually nothing remained but the
picked skeleton. A half dozen huge insects still walked about it, as if looking
for stray morsels.
"They are welcome to my share," he
said. "After all, I believe I should prefer to tackle crushed rock. But
if we may not eat, we can at least sleep. The sun is low, and we had best make
our preparations for the night."
When Jerry awoke in the morning his first
thought was of Junia. How little and helpless she looked, sleeping there
wrapped in her blue curtain! A fiercely protective feeling surged up in him as
he turned to face this strange and hostile world.
Cautiously
he removed a stone or two of the barrier he had erected the night before, and
peered out. But there were no enemies in sight, so he soon had the opening
cleared out.
The
sound of his labors awakened Junia, and she quickly joined him. Together they
went down to the stream to drink and wash.
"Shall
we hunt upstream or down?" Jerry inquired. "I think we would do well
to keep near the water."
"Down,"
Junia voted. "We would be going in the general direction of Raliad."
Their hopes rose as they rounded a bend in
the little stream, for it emptied into a large river. In the middle of the
river was a very sizable island, and Jerry scanned the shore attentively.
"Junia, does that look
to you like a boat?"
"I believe it
is."
"That
means human beings, and food. Ill swim across and find out."
"Don't
leave me behind!" she pleaded; she followed him into the water, leaving
the curtain robe behind.
They
struck out firmly for the island, breasting the slight current, and landed near
the object they had spied from the other shore. It proved indeed to be a boat,
wide, flat and wooden. In it lay two wooden paddles, a net, and a multi-pronged
fishing spear. And there was the remnant of a narrow path leading up from the
shore, where the ground was so packed by footsteps that the weeds which had
grown over it were stunted.
"Maybe
the people who left this boat here also left an empty dwelling we can
use," said Jerry. "Shall we investigate?"
"By all means," Junia replied.
"It will be bitterly cold after sunset, and neither of us is equipped for it. If there is a
dwelling of some sort, we can at least build a fire and keep warm."
They
were suddenly startled by a terrific
roar, followed by a crashing in the underbrush. Then a huge black dalf burst
into view, and charged at them with bared fangs.
Stepping
in front of Junia, Jerry whipped out his sword and awaited the beast. But when
it came quite near him, it stopped suddenly, sniffing in his direction and
growling softly. Then he noticed that it had a tarnished, gold-plated collar
around its neck, on which was the inscription:
Neem,
the dalf of Thaine
Evidently, thought Jerry, this beast was half
minded to be friendly.
"Quiet, Neem," he
said.
The great beast pricked up
its ears and ceased growling.
"Come
here, Neem," Jerry went on, lowering his sword and holding out his hand.
The
dalf came forward slowly, evidently still suspicious. Then Junia spoke to him,
at the same time stepping from behind Jerry. As soon as he saw her, Neem gave
violent manifestations of an exuberance of joy. Soon she was rumpling his head,
while Neem stood, leaning lighdy against her, with his eyes half-closed, the
picture of contentment.
"I
must resemble his former mistress," said Junia. Then she went on musingly:
"I wonder who this Thaine could have been."
"Perhaps
we can solve the riddle if we find the house of Thaine," said Jerry.
"The sun is due to set in a very short time. Let us start searching."
He
led the way up the path, with Junia and the dalf following closely behind. But
presently, when he emerged in an open glade in the center of the wood, the
trail disappeared entirely. And a careful look around disclosed no sign of a house.
CHAPTER XXI
As Jerby
and Junla stood in the
little sunlit glade, Neem, the great black dalf, stood between them, gazing up
at, first, one and then the other. Apparently he wondered why they had stopped.
"No sign of a house
here," said Jerry.
At
the word "house," Neem pricked up his small ears. Then he seized a
fold of the headcloak which Junia wore, and began tugging gently.
"Go
ahead. Show us the house, Neem," she said, encouragingly.
At
this, the beast turned and trotted toward a vine-covered mound, his flat,
spiked tail proudly elevated. He led them through a small opening in a leafy
screen of tangled vines, and behind it they saw a door cut in the supposed
mound, which turned out to be an irregularly shaped house covered with vines
and creepers.
"The
place is certainly well concealed," said Jerry. "Thaine must have
been hiding for some reason."
Rearing
up, the dalf pressed on the latch with one huge paw, then shouldered the door
open and went in. Jerry and Junia followed him into a large room, comfortably
furnished with swinging chairs and divans. There were three circular doorways
cut in the walls, leading to the other rooms. And at one end was a large
fireplace, around which were various utensils, and beside which a shelf held a
number of dishes,
cups, and the like, all of which were of
gold, skillfully engraved and set with jewels. A shelf on the other side held
a number of covered jars, such as the Martians use for the storage of foods.
"Evidently
the lady was quite wealthy," said Jerry. "Those dishes and jars look
as if they came from a palace."
"They
did. On each is the mark of the royal house of Xancibar. It must be that Thaine
had some connection with the house of Miradon Vil."
"Or perhaps with a
gang of burglars. In any case, we eat!"
And
eat they did. It was some time before they troubled to examine the three other
rooms. One was obviously the sleeping room of a man—a mighty huntsman, judging
from the weapons and the collection of trophies.
The
second room was used for storage. In it they found considerable quantities of
dried and preserved provisions, as well as boxes of clothing, sleeping furs,
fire powder, and other necessities.
The
.remaining room was unmistakably the boudoir of a girl, with its many chests of
feminine apparel, and its dainty jeweled boxes of cosmetics. There Were weapons here, also, but smaller and lighter than those in the sleeping
room of the man.
Junia
immediately took possession of this room, and Jerry retired to the room of the
hunter. He bathed, then took the bottle of depilatory which he had long since
substituted for his razor and went to the mirror to remove his beard. Putting
down the depilatory, he returned to his belt pouch, and getting the bottle of
clear liquid, filled a jeweled gold basin with water at the bath box, added a
few drops of the chemical, and removed the dye from his skin and hair.
He
got out the bottle of black hair dye, and with it re-dyed his hair and eyebrows
and stained his beard jet black. Then he opened several chests until he found
what he wanted—boots, cincture and head-cloak of brown, pliable leather like
those worn by huntsmen. These he speedily donned.
His toilet completed, Jerry opened the door
to the living room and saw, to his surprise, that Junia was there before him.
She had kindled a fire in the grate, and had a pot of fragrant pulcho brewing.
Like Jerry, she had chosen huntsman's leather in preference to the blue and
gold raiment which was at her disposal. She was bending over close to the fire,
preparing a pot of hunter's stew, a mixture of dried meats, berries and
vegetables.
Hearing
the sound of his footsteps behind her, Junia turned, took one look at him, and
uttered a piercing scream. Instandy, Neem the dalf, who had been lying
stretched near her,- sprang up with a roar, and plunged straight for the
Earthman.
Neem,
after charging up to within three feet of Jerry, suddenly stopped, sniffing the
air. Then he hung his head, the bristles on his back receded, and with a most
crestfallen manner he returned to his place by the fire.
"Sorry
to have startled you," said. Jerry. "I thought I made sufficient
noise coming into the room."
"It
wasn't the noise, but the change in your appearance," Junia said. "I
should never have known you."
"Then
perhaps my plan will work," Jerry told her, continuing: "Junia, I
want to take you back to your father, and when I do, I would like to remain and
help him. Without my help, and that of my army, it is probable that he not only
will never be able to retake Raliad, but that the Torturer may completely crush
his army."
"Just what is your
plan?"
I would go as I am, disguised as a huntsman
from Xancibar, who found you in this marsh. As a reward, your father should be
glad to give me a post in his army. I am a soldier by profession—have made a
study of the art of war. With my help, and that of my warriors, who I am sure I
could persuade to reenforce the Vil's army, your father will be able to drive
the Torturer from Raliad and retake his empire."
"I suppose you realize," she said,
"that if my father should recognize you, or if' you should be betrayed by someone else, he would
have you put to death without compunction. And even with the—the barrier that
stands between us, I should not want that to happen."
"I know," he
agreed. "And for a crime I did
not commit."
"That
remains to be proved," she reminded him. "And I have prayed every night that you may prove your innocence."
"Bless
your heartl" For a moment Jerry laid his large brown hand over her small
one.
They
sat there before the fire, toying with their pulcho cups and making their plans
for the morrow.
"I
found a map which shows our location," said Junia. "We are in the
midst of the Takkor Marsh, on the rim of which is situated Castle Takkor. The
Raddek of Takkor is within the Empire of Xancibar, and subject to its
ruler."
"Then how far are we
from Raliad?" asked Jerry.
"I
have computed the distance
at four thousand jahuds," she replied.
"May I see the
map?" he asked.
She
rose and went into her room, presently reappearing with a roll of waterproof
silk, which she spread on the taboret. "Here is our location in the center
of the marsh," she said, pointing to a tiny red dot on a small island.
He
looked at the map more closely. "It appears that we are about two hundred
jahuds from the Corvid Canal," he said. "That will take us straight
to Raliad. We are five hundred jahuds from Dukor, capital of Xancibar, and only
fifty from Castle Takkor. Why not go to the castle and ask the Rad for the loan
of a couple of gawrs?"
"I
am surprised at you, Jerry Morgan," she said. "Have you forgotten
that Sarkis is in Raliad, and that Thoor has been named Vil?
"We
know not what treaties may have been concluded between Kalsivar and Xancibar
during our absence. It may be that the Rad of Takkor would place us under
arrest and send us to Raliad. Perhaps Thoor and Sarkis have offered a fabulous
reward for our return."
"I bow to your superior judgment,"
he said, "and apologize for being so thick-witted. Naturally, if it would
not be wise to go to Casde Takkor, it would be equally unwise to go to Dukor.
But if we go straight to the Corvid Canal, disguised as a huntsman and his
sister, it may be that we can take passage on one of the boats for
Raliad."
"Have you thought of
the matter of passage money?"
"No,"
Jerry admitted. "And I suppose the boatmen won't take promises. Perhaps
we'll have to steal a boat."
"Fortunately
not," she replied. "I found a well-filled purse in the bottom of a
chest in Thaine's sleeping room." She put a small, gold-embroidered silk
bag on the taboret, and opening it, disclosed a considerable sum of gold and
platinum pieces stamped with the mark of the Vil of Xancibar.
"Take
the purse," she went on, "and if we succeed in reaching my father I
will learn the whereabouts of this Thaine, and reimburse her."
Jerry
pushed the purse back to her. "You take charge of it," he said.
"And now, how about what I asked you? Will you permit me to assist your
father in my character as a huntsman?"
"I'll
sleep on that," she told him, rising and yawning prettily. "Good
night."
CHAPTER
XXH
The Eahthman arose early, and went down to the bank of the
stream to prepare the wooden boat for their journey across the marsh.
The fragrant aroma of boiling pulcho greeted
him as he opened the door, and Junia cheerily called him to breakfast. This
consisted of several kinds of dried fruits, which she tad stewed, and the
inevitable pulcho.
Their
breakfast over, they carefully selected the provisions and supplies which they
would take with them, with a view to keeping their packs as light as possible,
for they would have to walk across the desert a distance of about seventy miles
before reaching the Corvid Canal. Then it might be necessary to walk ten or
fifteen miles farther before reaching a boat station.
When
they had loaded and strapped on their packs, with a rolled sleeping fur"
attached to each, Jerry went into the huntsman's sleeping room and got his
weapons. After replenishing his supply of javelins from a large sheaf on the
wall, and pouching a half dozen bottles of fire powder, he was ready.
Neem
accompanied them down to the boat, and when they, were ready to push off, Jerry
called to him. But instead of getting in with them, he took the tie-rope in his
mouth, and plunging into the water with it, pulled them out into the middle of
the stream, then stopped, looking back at them.
"Why,
I believe the beast wants to tow us!" exclaimed Jerry.
"Of
course," Junia told him. "That is what all marsh-reared dalfs are
trained to do. I'll guide him."
She
sat down in the front of the boat, and unrolling the map, spread it over her
dimpled knees.
"To the right,
Neem," she said.
The
dalf obediently turned and started away, dragging the boat after him with a
speed which Jerry could never have equalled with a paddle.
A
two hours' ride through the marsh brought them to a wide sandy beach strewn
with boulders, behind which towered a row of rugged, frowning cliffs.
"The desert starts at the edge of those
cliffs," said Junia, glancing at her map. "And a hundred and forty jahuds beyond lies
the Corvid Canal."
They
left the boat on the beach, and shouldering their packs, climbed up among the
boulders to the base of the cliff. Here they consumed a laborious hour in
scaling the precipice, then emerged into the desert.
After
a brief rest, they started off across the ochre-yellow sands. Presently, a
growl from Neem attracted Jerry's attention, and he looked in the direction
toward which the dalf was gazing. He saw that several rodals were coming
swiftly toward them.
They
were riderless, and had obviously run thus for some time. It was apparent that
these were the survivors of a clash between desert tribesmen. The rodals came
to a halt a short distance away from the travelers. Jerry turned to the girl.
"Suppose
you wait here with Neem to guard you, and I'll see if I can catch a couple of
rodals. I'm accustomed to handling them."
The nearest rodal had stopped 'at a patch of
sand flowers about half a mile away, and Jerry walked slowly toward it. As he
drew near, he saw that it was engaged in hunting the large insects and small
rodents and reptiles which make up the diet of these desert steeds. It raised
its plumed, snaky head at his approach, and stood staring at him. At this,
Jerry made a sound used by the desert lorwocks to call their mounts, while he
continued to saunter closer.
The
rodal was puzzled. It looked around several times, as if half minded to sprint
away. Again Jerry called. This, and his slow, careless approach seemed to
reassure it. Almost before the creature was aware of it, the Earthman had his
hand on the guiding rod, and had vaulted into the saddle.
Once
on the rodal's back, Jerry was in complete command. And the matter of capturing
a second mount for Junia was easily accomplished. Soon they were speeding
across the sands on their tireless desert steeds, with Neem loping along beside
them.
At noon they halted in a small oasis for
rest, food and
pulcho. Then they pressed onward, and late that afternoon sighted the black
stone wall which, topped by sentry towers at intervals of one jahud, or
approximately a half mile, guarded the Corvid Canal.
They
now took a course parallel to the wall, and just out of sight of the sentries, until they came to a tower above which was a
small replica of a ship. This indicated that it was a station where boats
stopped for passengers and freight. Here they abandoned their rodals and waited
until sunset.
A
short walk in the dim moonlight brought them to an arehed opening in the wall.
A sentry on the wall above the gate flashed his baridiura torch in their faces
and challenged them.
"Who are you, and what
do you want?"
"I
am Jandar the Hunter, with my sister Thaine, and her dalf. We have left our hut
in the Takkor Marsh, to seek passage for Raliad."
"Have you passage
money?"
"We
have saved a little from the sale of our furs," replied Jerry, "and
would see the wonderful sights in the greatest city of all Mars."
The
sentry called to someone below him, and a moment later the two massive doors
beneath the archway swung outward. A voice called: "Enter."
They
went in side by side, with Neem trailing at their heels, and traversed the
dimly lighted passageway which led through the wall. This brought them up
before a corpulent, red-faced officer in the uniform of Xancibar, at whose back
stood two stalwart guards. The officer sat on a swinging chair before a
taboret, with a baridium torch dangling above his head. A scroll of waterproof silk
was unrolled before him. Beside it was an ink pot, and in his hand was a
writing brush.
"Name?"
he rasped at Jerry. "Jandar the Hunter." "From?"
"Takkor Marsh."
Dipping the brush into the pot of ink, he
made the entry on the scroll. Then he turned to Junia with the same questions.
She replied that she was Thaine the Huntress, also from the Takkor Marsh.
Having
entered this, he glanced at the name plate on the dalf's collar, and wrote it
down on the scroll. This done, he said:
"It is not strange that there should be
two dazzlingly beautiful Thaines in Xancibar, nor yet that there should be two
black dalfs named Neem. But that there should ever have been two such Thaines,
each with a black dalf named Neem, is passing strange. Also, I have heard it
said that her highness, the Vil's adopted daughter, lost her black dalf Neem in
the Takkor Marsh some time ago. I wonder if this could be the same beast."
"I
see nothing strange in the fact that my sister was named after her highness,
nor that she should name her black dalf after the beast which belonged to the
Vil's adopted daughter," said Jerry. "And," he continued, laying
his hand on the hilt of his sword, "I resent the insinuation of theft
which your words seem to imply. I wait to hear you retract them."
"You
take a strange tone for a mere hunter," said the officer, looking the
Earthman over with the practiced eye of a military man. And though the officer
was not accounted a bad swordsman, the cool self-assurance of the young man who
stood before him did not make him at all anxious to press matters further. He
sat down heavily, and continued: "But after all, hunters have their
rights, as does every citizen of Xancibar, however humble, under the just role
of our mighty Vil. And as his majesty's representative, it is my duty to see
that you get justice. I, Hazlit Jen, retract the insinuation, and wish you and
your sister a pleasant trip to Raliad. Shortly after the rising of the nearer
moon a large passenger boat going your way will dock here. In the meantime,
there is a small cabin boat tied at the wharf. If you care to pay the price, it
might be that you could charter it for the trip."
Jerry removed his hand from his hilt and
saluted. "We are beholden to you for your kindness. Come, sister. Let us
interview the boatman at the dock."
At this, the bulky officer
arose.
"Permit
me to interview Padrath for you," he said. "I know the fellow. If
he thinks you are in a hurry, he will want to charge you double or perhaps
treble fare."
Intuition
instantly told Jerry there was something amiss. "Don't trouble yourself.
If we find the boatman unreasonable, we will wait for the passenger ship."
"Ah,
but I insist," wheezed the officer, crowding past them and waddling down
to the dock, where a small narrow craft with a cabin of iridescent crystal was
moored.
With
a whispered warning to Junia to remain quiet and keep the dalf with her, Jerry
softly stepped upon the deck, and tiptoeing to the cabin door, crouched there,
listening. For the most part, the conversation was indistinguishable, but he
did make out the words: "Junia, Crown Princess of Kalsi-var," ■
"Thoor Vil," and "a reward of ten thousand platinum
tayzos."
Noticing that one of the bulky shadows inside
had gotten up, he quickly stepped back to the dock.
A
moment later, the door opened and the red-faced officer squeezed through.
"All
is settled," he wheezed, "and at a great bargain for you. I, myself,
am going with you and will pay half of the charge, which my friend Padrath has
made very nominal for my sake. I had intended going tomorrow, but tonight will
do as well. Bear with me but a moment, and I will be with you.
He waddled off hastily in the direction of
the tower. "What did you hear? What does it all mean?" asked Junia.
"It
means," replied Jerry grimly, "that the fat, red-faced jen has
recognized you, and has conspired with the boatman to take us to Raliad, that
they may collect the reward of ten thousand platinum tayzos which Thoor Vil has offered for your
return."
"And knowing this, you mean to go with
them?"
"We
have no choice in the matter. To attempt an escape over the wall, patrolled as
it is, would be extremely dangerous and would only put us back where we
started if successful. This way the danger will be equally great, but at least
we will have the satisfaction of knowing that we are drawing nearer to our
destination. And some opportunity for escape may present itself before we reach
Raliad."
CHAPTERXXIII
So fab
as physical comforts went,
Jerry and Junia were pleasantly installed on a pile of cushions in the cabin of
Padrath's swift little boat. The boatman himself sat in the front of the cabin
on a saddle-like seat, manipulating the two driving levers which controlled
both the speed and direction of the craft. The corpulent, red-faced officer
occupied a cushion across from them, and Neem, the black dalf, snoozed at their
feet.
Under
any other circumstances it would have been pleasant to glide swiftly and
smoothly over the placid waters of the canal, leaving a wake of ripples that
sparkled in the mellow light of the farther moon.
Presently,
some time after the nearer moon had risen, Jerry said: "You are weary,
little sister. Close your eyes and sleep."
"And what of you, big
brother?"
"I would watch this
strange scenery," he told her.
"It
is no more strange to you than to me, and not a bit less interesting."
Near
midnight, Hazlit Jen brought a pan of charcoal, ignited it with a pinch of
fire powder and a splash of water, and brewed pulcho. After passing a cup to
the boatman and one to Junia, he filled one for Jerry and handed it to him. But
the Earthman noticed that before he picked it up, he held the palm of his hand
over it for a moment. Accordingly, he held the cup without tasting it, and then
as the officer filled his own cup, said:
"A
whim of mine, Hazlit Jen. Among huntsmen it is a custom for good friends to
exchange cups." He pressed the cup into the officer's left hand and took
the one he had poured for himself.
The man's face grew redder, and he flashed a
suspicious look at Jerry.
"To a swift journey
and a safe arrival," said the Earthman.
Having
gone this far, Hazlit Jen was forced to raise the cup which Jerry had handed
him. But as he did so, it slipped from his hand.
"Clumsy
of me," he wheezed, catching up the cup and hurling it through the
porthole as if his temper had got the better of him. Then he filled another
cup.
Shortly
thereafter, Hazlit Jen settled back among his cushions and was soon snoring
lustily.
"We must get some sleep," Jerry
whispered to Junia, "for a long joumey lies ahead of us. You sleep first,
and I will watch. Then, when you awaken, I will get some sleep."
When
the Earthman awoke, the sun was at the zenith. And Junia was busily engaged
over the charcoal pan, preparing their noon meal. The appetizing odors made
Jerry ravenous, and he did full justice to the meal, paying extravagant tribute
to the skill of the cook.
They invited Padrath and Hazlit Jen to join
them, but both declined, saying that they were not hungry, and would prepare
their own food later.
After they had eaten, Jerry and Junia went
out on deck where Neem was basking in the sunlight, and fed him the remainder
of the anuba steaks. Then they sat down to enjoy the sunshine and the scenery
that was slipping past them.
Far
below them was the drainage canal, swarming with boats and fishermen. And
across the thirteen mile chasm was the other irrigation canal which watered the
opposite terraces, its larger craft plainly visible in the clear air.
At
intervals of about two hundred jahuds, cross canals bridged the chasm on
tremendous arched structures of metal and stone, connecting the two upper
canals and making it possible for boats to cross direcdy from one to the other
without using the slower systems of locks which occurred at equal distances,
and connected both with the lower drainage canal.
The sun was low in the west when Padrath
turned into one of these transverse channels and crossed to the irrigation
canal on the opposite side.
As
they turned into the other canal, the sun set, and night fell suddenly with its
blaze of sparkling stars in a black velvet sky, and the pale farther moon
preparing to follow the sun beneath the western horizon.
Lights
flashed on in the teeming craft that swarmed on the canal, the houses that
dotted the terraces, and the watch towers upon the wall. And Padrath unhooded
the baridium torch that lighted the small cabin. The boatman then rose, and
turning over the control levers to Hazlit Jen, sauntered out upon the deck,
closing the door after him.
For a time he stood looking at the passing
towers and stroking his bushy beard. Then he said: "We should make the
border of Kalsivar before the farther moon sets. I suppose you two have
passports."
"Why,
no, we haven't," replied Jerry. "I didn't know they would be
required."
"They are. But a few platinum pieces
will serve as well. I know
an officer."
"How much will it cost?" asked
Jerry. "Five tayzos should be enough."
"My
sister carries our money," said Jerry. Then he turned to Junia. "Pay
the boatman five tay . . ." he began. But at that instant something
descended upon his head with terrific force, felling him to the deck.
Fortunately for him, he had coiled the leather lasso inside his headcloak to
conceal it, and this saved him a crushed skull.
Almost
as soon as the blow fell, there was a low growl from Neem. Then the big dalf,
with a quickness that was surprising in a creature of such great bulk, leaped
straight over the fallen Earthman. There was a muffled shriek, and a crunch of
shattered bone. Then Padrath fell to the deck with the dalf on top of him, his
head crushed like an eggshell.
Jerry
sprang dizzily to his feet, and grasping Neem by the collar, pulled him off his
fallen assailant. A single glance told him that the boatman was beyond all
human aid.
Feeling
sure that Hazlit Jen, who had tried a more subtle method of assassination only
a few hours before, was in on the plot, Jerry tiptoed to the cabin door and
sofdy opened it. The officer sat at the controls, looking straight out through
the front windows and piloting the craft through the canal traffic with
undiminished speed.
Jerry
quietly closed the door. Then he returned to where the corpse lay, and tearing
off a piece of the headcloak, heaved it into the water. With the fabric he
mopped up the blood, then dropped it overboard.
He turned to Junia.
"I
am going into the cabin to try to learn the plans of Hazlit Jen," he said.
"First give me five tayzos. I will leave the door open. If you see me
raise my hand to my head, rush into the cabin, saying that Padrath has snatched
your purse with a thousand tayzos in it, and leaped overboard."
"But what are you
going to do? He may kill you."
"Have no fear, and
trust me," said Jerry, pressing her hand as she passed him the money.
"Is all clear?" "Yes."
Jerry
went to the cabin door, and opened it noisily. Then he walked in, and toward
the front.
"I
dislike to trouble an officer with what must seem a most trivial matter,"
Jerry began, "yet to a poor hunter a matter of five tayzos is of
considerable importance. To me it represents many dangerous hunts, and many
trips to the City of Takkor, where the grasping fur merchants pay us less than
a tenth of the prices they receive from the tanners in Dukor. I hope that you
understand."
"I
understand fully, my poor fellow," said Hazlit Jen. "Go on."
"I
have not forgotten that you warned me against the cupidity of our
boatman," continued the Earthman. "Just a moment ago he approached me
and asked if we had passports. Since we had none, he said he would have to
have five tayzos with which to bribe the officials at the border in order that
we might pass into Kalsivar. He claimed he was well acquainted with one of the
officers, and could arrange everything for us."
"The
amount he mentioned was correct. But if he told you he could arrange things
with the officials, he lied. Only I can do that. And it is to me that you must
pay the money."
"Indeed
I am glad I consulted you in this matter," Jerry told him, handing over
the five platinum pellets with a look of relief.
The
officer dropped the money into his belt pouch. "Leave everything to me,
and you will be safe and sound in Raliad before sunup."
Jerry
raised his hand, as if to adjust his headcloak. This movement was followed by a
most convincing scream from Junia. Then she rushed into the cabin.
"What happened? What's
wrong?" asked Hazlit Jen, paling.
"The boatmanl" she panted. "He
snatched my purse and leaped overboard. Our life savings—our thousand
tayzos—are gone with him."
Jerry
sprang to his feet, simulating anger, but the anger of the red-faced officer
was not simulated. Moving both levers back to neutral, he turned and asked:
"Where is the scoundrel?"
"He
must be on shore, and well away with the loot by this time," said Junia.
Hazlit
Jen plunged across the cabin, through the door, and out upon the deck. Jerking
his baridium torch from his belt, he flashed it over the placid waters.
"Gonel"
he wheezed angrily. "Gone with a thousand platinum tayzos! Oh, the
blackguard!"
"After
all," said Jerry dryly, "there are more platinum pieces where those
came from. The fool has only cheated himself."
"Eh? What do you
mean?"
"Since
the low-bom villain has decamped, there is no reason why two officers and
gendemen should not be perfectly frank with each other," said Jerry in a
confidential tone. "Let us drop all pretense. I realized that you had
recognized her highness, from the start. What you have evidently not realized
is that I an in the employ of His Majesty, Thoor Vil. Of course she doesn't
know that. And I thought it best not to tell her until we arrive. She might
offer absurd objections, or attempt to escape."
"Quite right,"
said Hazlit. "But what of the reward?"
"I'll
split it with you," Jerry told him. "I had intended dividing with you
and the boatman. But since he took the purse, there remain larger portions for
both of us. It is he who is the greatest loser."
"Why,
so he is," said the officer. He was still holding his baridium torch,
unhooded, and the rays were shining on the deck. For a moment, the little
pig-like eyes paused and widened at sight of a small, red splotch.
Jerry
saw it too, and quickly looked up to see if the jen had noticed it. But the
officer looked away unconcernedly.
"Let the fool boatman go with his
ill-gotten gains," he said. "We will have ten thousand tayzos to
divide between us."
He
hooded his baridium torch, and replacing it in his belt, started toward the
cabin.
During
this conversation, the boat had been drifting slowly forward under its own
momentum, the driving mechanism having been set at neutral.
"We
are almost at the Kalsivar border," said Hazlit Jen, resuming his seat
between the two control levers. "You two had best remain in the cabin. I
will dock the boat and attend to interviewing the officers, alone."
He
pushed both levers forward a little way. A cunning look came into his eyes as
he smoothly guided the boat up to the international dock. He drew the levers
back to neutral, and stood up.
"Await
me here," he said, "and leave everything to me. I won't be long."
CHAPTER XXIV
Jerry
kept his place among the
cushions in the cabin when Hazlit Jen went out to moor the boat. But he had no
intention of leaving the officer unwatched.
The
Earthman watched through a porthole while Hazlit Jen tied the boat to the dock
and walked to the tower doorway. As soon as the officer entered, Jerry
strolled unconcernedly out on the deck and across the dock after him. Guards
were stationed at regular intervals along the dock, as well as upon the black
wall, and in the open windows of the tower. And there were four swift patrol
boats of Kalsivar anchored at equidistant points across the canal, facing four
similar boats belonging to Xancibar.
Instead
of entering the tower doorway, Jerry paused just outside it, and a little to
one side. Hazlit Jen, with his back toward him, was standing before the
commander of the border guards, who sat on a swinging chair with writing
materials on a taboret before him.
"The
hunter murdered the boatman," Hazlit Jen was saying, "and threw his
body into the canal. Then he told me his victim had robbed his sister and
leaped overboard. I will take the girl on to Raliad, for she is innocent, but I
should like to have you hold this assassin here until I come back. Then I will
return him to Dukor in chains, to stand trial for murder."
"I
don't know why you wish to leave him with me, instead of the Xancibar
officer," said the commander, "but since you have paid me five
tayzos, I can see no objection to holding the assassin for you." He
turned to a soldier who stood behind him. "Take six men and arrest the
hunter on the small boat at the dock," he ordered.
Jerry waited to hear no more. Springing
across the dock, he whipped out his sword, slashed the tierope, and leaped
aboard the boat. Then he plunged into the cabin, seized the two control levers,
and pushed them forward as far as they would go. The boat tore away from the
dock with a rush, just as the two nearest guards came running up.
Jerry
kept his eyes ahead and his hands on the control levers, while Junia watched
from the rear deck.
"The
patrol boat is drawing up to the dock," she said, "and Hazlit Jen is
getting aboard. Now they are starting after us."
It looked as though their capture would be
only a matter of minutes, when Jerry, who had noticed the farther moon just
ready to settle below the western horizon, suddenly thought of a plan.
Zigzagging through the traffic toward the outer bank, he presendy reached a
position only a few feet
from shore. By this time the patrol boat was but two hundred feet behind them,
its prow lined with warriors ready to leap upon their afterdeck.
Presently
the moon dipped below the horizon. Instandy Jerry hooded the baridium torch
that lighted the cabin, plunging the boat into darkness. Then he set the levers
so the craft would turn about in a narrow circle. Grasping Junia's hand, he
hurried her out onto the deck.
The dark bulk of the shore loomed beside
them, and the boat began curving away from it. Gathering the girl in his arms,
Jerry jumped, his Earth-trained muscles easily carrying him beyond the water's
edge. Swifdy he ran up the bank in the darkness. And a moment later, he knew
that part of his plan had worked out, for there was a terrific crash, and the
shouts of men struggling in the water, as the small boat, turning in a circle,
rammed the large craft amidships.
There
were stairways for the use of defending warriors at regular intervals along the
inner side of the wall, and Jerry presendy groped his way in the dark to one of
these. Climbing it without noise, he saw a guard approaching, outlined against
the sky. At this moment, Jerry, who had completely
forgotten Neem the dalf, felt a wet muzzle pressed against his arm.
"Get him, Neem," he whispered.
While
Jerry and Junia crouched in the shadow, the great shaggy beast crept over the
edge of the wall. The guard saw him and raised his javelin. But ere he could
draw it back for a thrust, the furry body shot through the air, the huge jaws
closed on his head with a single crunch, and the sentinel expired without a
sound.
Jerry caught up Junia once more and ran to
the edge of the wall. Uncoiling the rope beneath his headcloak, he passed it
around her slender waist and let her over the edge. The lasso did not grow
slack until most of its length had been paid out, so he knew there was a drop
of about thirty feet beneath him.
"Release the rope," he called down
to Junia softly.
She instantly complied, and fastening it
around Neem, he pushed the beast over the edge, snubbing the lasso on the
parapet in order to hold the great weight of the dalf.
As
soon as the beast had alighted, Jerry let himself down as far as he could by
hanging from both hands, then dropped, alighting in the soft sand without
injury.
Recovering the rope, he
caught up Junia and hurried away.
For
some time the darkness favored them. Then the bright nearer moon suddenly
popped above the western horizon, almost at the point where the farther moon
had set, flooding the desert with light. By this time they were more than a
mile from the wall, and Jerry found that by keeping to the hollows behind the
sand dunes, they could travel without danger of being seen by the enemy.
The
bright nearer moon was high in the heavens when a black shadow suddenly swept
across its face and fell upon the fugitives. It was followed by another and
another, and Jerry, looking up, saw that a party of a hundred gawr riders was
passing high overhead.
Junia,
who had also been watching the fliers, clutched his arm. "They've seen usl
What shall we do?"
"I'm
afraid there is nothing we can do," he replied. "It is too late to
hide, we can't outrun them, and it would be hopeless to try to fight a hundred
warriors."
The
sound of flapping leathery wings grew louder as the flying warriors spiraled
lower, and in a few moments they had landed in a circle completely surrounding
the fugitives.
Stationing
himself in front of Junia, Neem bristled up, and ominous rumblings issued from
his cavernous throat.
Then
suddenly the leader of the warriors flung himself down from his steed. He was
short and bow-legged, with long ape-like arms and tremendously broad shoulders.
Instead of a javelin, he carried a heavy, long-handled mace.
"Kohal" Jerry
exclaimed.
"I
hoped it would be you, master," the black dwarf cried, saluting. He turned
to the others, whirling his mace aloft. "Ho, warriorsl It is the
Commonerl"
At
this a cheer broke from the throats of the entire company.
"We
have been searching for you day and night, since your disappearance,
master," continued Koha.
"The
lady with me is Her Imperial Highness of Kalsivar," Said Jerry. "You will salute her, and provide a gawr for each of
us."
Instantly
the entire company sprang from their saddles, rendering the imperial salute to
Junia and proffering their mounts. Jerry selected one for the princess and
another for himself.
Mounted
on their swift bird-beasts, it took them less than a half hour to reach Jerry's
camp, where he and the princess received a tremendous ovation. Here, after
providing Junia with a portable hut, and recommending that she get some sleep,
the Earthman called his officers together.
"It
is highly probable," he said, "that there will be desperate fighting
for all of us in a few days. And strange as it may appear to you, we will
probably be fighting as allies of Numin Vil. As you all know, the Torturer is
in Raliad, and has put the dark-skinned prince on the throne for his puppet. By
joining forces with Numin Vil, we will be assisting him in combating a mutual
enemy, and if we win, there will be suitable rewards for all. Are there any
questions or objections?"
No one spoke.
"There
being no objections," Jerry continued, "you will send out riders at
once to summon the tribesmen, and the other units of our army that are in
hiding. Let the Atabah Marsh be the rendezvous, and be ready for matching
orders by tomorrow. I go now to inspect the work of our armorers and
smiths."
Rising,
he strode through the circle of officers, followed by Yewd and Koha, and
crossing the sandy, boulder-strewn beach to the base of the cliff, entered a
dark doorway.
Unhooding
his baridium torch, he followed a winding
passageway deep into the cliff. He emerged in a tremendous natural cave, where a night shift of two thousand men was at work, forging and welding small octagonal
metal turrets, each large enough to hold one man. The turrets were fitted with
thick crystal panels, each of which could be opened or closed by a lever in the
hands of the occupant. "How many are ready?" Jerry asked.
"Eight
hundred are finished," Koha replied. "And there will be two hundred
more by morning."
"Goodl And now let us see what the
workmen in the next cave have accomplished."
As
they passed through the huge workshop, Jerry paused from time to time to
inspect a turret or say a few words to a workman. A second passageway led them
into another tremendous cave, where five thousand workers, men and women, were
busy. The men were molding hollow metal shells of cast iron. The women were
filling them with measured quantities of fire powder, and inserting small,
stoppered globes of water. Some of these were fitted with percussion plungers
which would break the globes on contact, and others with tiny clockwork
mechanisms that would jerk the stoppers from the glass globes in from one to
ten seconds, depending upon how they were set.
"You
made the tests as I ordered?" Jerry asked, turning to Yewd:
"All
of them," replied the giant. "The large globes, when dropped,
excavate holes in the ground that will contain a hundred mounted men. The
smaller ones make craters proportionate to their size."
"How many are
finished?" Jerry asked.
"A hundred thousand of the small, and
ten thousand of the large."
"You
have done splendidly, all of you," said Jerry. "Keep it up, and if
nothing happens to prevent, I will return tomorrow. I go, now, to return the
princess to her father, and to perfect our alliance with him."
Yewd
said: "Deza grant that you may find Raliad a. safer place this time than
you' ever have before."
CHAPTER XXV
As he
drew near his own camp,
some hours later, Jerry saw that the preparations for war which he had ordered
were well under way. Already the city of portable huts had grown to thrice its
former size, and his forces were still being swelled by large companies of
rodal cavalry, and by thousands of flying warriors. The lakes were black with
swimming gawrs, and the entire end of the marsh had been turned into a vast community
of fur-covered dwellings.
Challenged
by a strange flying guard, Jerry gave the password, "On to Raliad,"
and was permitted to alight in the square before his hut. Here the guards and
officers recognized his disguise, and rushed up to greet him. Among them was
Yewd.
"You
are back sooner than we expected you, my Viljen," said the giant.
"Find
Koha," Jerry replied, "and bring him to me. I would hold council with
you two."
Two
guards parted the silver curtains that veiled the doorway of the black hut,
and Jerry went in. Since the need for his disguise was at an end, he removed,
it, and exchanged his huntsman's garments for a commoner's black and silver. A
slave brought pulcho, set it on a taboret at his elbow, and withdrew. And a moment
later Yewd strode in with Koha waddling behind him.
"What
news, master?" asked the dwarf. "Do we join the Vil's army
today?"
"Not today, or ever," replied Jerry
dejectedly, pushing the pulcho flask toward his two sturdy henchmen. "I
have failed in my mission—failed miserably and completely. The Vil would have
none of me as an officer. He has made an alliance with Manith Zovil, marital as
well as martial. And to top it all, my disguise was penetrated by one of his
courtiers, so that I barely escaped with my life—he still deeming me the
murderer of his son."
"Why,
then, that leaves us free to harass the Torturer in our own way," said
Yewd, drinking deeply. "And with the new weapons we should be able to more
than hold our own."
"You
forget that the Torturer and his puppet sit in Raliad," said Jerry.
"He is no longer an outlaw, but the power behind the throne. Numin Vil,
if he does not retake his capital, will himself be the outlaw. And even with
the help of Manith Zovil, I do not believe he can do it. With our assistance it
might be done, but he would renounce his kingdom forever rather than accept my
aid."
"If
we could only find the man who slew Shiev Zovil," said Koha, "the
rest should be easy."
"Ah,
but the irony of fate prevents even thatl" exclaimed Jerry.
"Then what are we to
do?"
"Do?
Why, I will found a city of outlaws, here on this spot, that will defy all the
armies of Mars. So long as Thoor remains Vil of Kalsivar with the Torturer
pulling the strings, we shall be a thom in their sides. We will..."
He
was interrupted by a guard, who drew back a silver curtain and
said: "Algo the spy is here with an important message."
"Admit him," said
Jerry.
The
spy, resplendent in his uniform of the imperial guards, hurried in.
"What news, Algo?" Jerry asked.
"The princess has been abducted."
"What!" Jerry sprang to his feet.
"When? By whom?"
"Only a short time ago. And by agents of the Torturer."
"Impossiblel Wasn't Neem the black dalf
with her? And was she not surrounded by the Vil's army?"
"Neither,"
Algo replied. "She was circling above the camp on the swift gawr you gave
her, accompanied by two guards. Suddenly four brown warriors plunged down from
high above them. Three slew the guards with their javelins. The fourth dropped
a noose around the neck of her highness's gawr, so that it was forced to follow his bird-beast
or strangle. Then he flew off in the direction of Raliad, followed by his three
companions. I managed to bring you this message by pretending to follow the
abductors."
"Back to your post, then, Algo,"
said Jerry. "And from now on you rank a jendus for bringing this
news."
The spy saluted smartly and
departed.
The Earthman whirled on
Koha.
"Have
the saddles been prepared with the chains and hooks, as I ordered?"
"They have, master;
four thousand of them."
"Good.
See that the gawrs are saddled, and their riders ready. And have two thousand
more flying warriors prepared to join them."
As
Koha waddled away, Yewd asked: "What are you going to do?"
"First
I will lead a raid upon the canal excavating crew," he said. "Then
our watchword shall become our war cry: 'On to Raliadl'"
CHAPTER
XXVI
Seated
in his black hut, Jerry
summoned his officers and called for a scroll, brush and ink. Then he wrote the
following note:
TO
SARKIS THE TORTURER, THOOR THE FALSE VIL, AND THE PEOPLE OF RALIAD:
Today, when the sun reaches the zenith, my
army wll enter Raliad through the Gate of Victory, march down the Avenue of
Triumph, and take over the Imperial Palace. All citizens are warned of the
danger of congregating at any of these places at that hour.
THE COMMONER.
"Cause five hundred copies of this
notice to be made," he told his jendus of fliers, "and see that they
are dropped along the Avenue of Triumph and upon the roof of the Imperial
Palace, at once."
"I hear and obey, my Viljen,"
replied the officer, saluting.
Jerry
turned to his jendus of cavalry. "Mobilize all riders at once, and start
for Raliad. By hurrying, you will be able to meet the flying contingent in
front of the Gate of Victory, shortly before noon. See that the riders who
carry grenades are in the front ranks."
"To hear is to obey, O Viljen," the
officer answered.
Having
given detailed instructions to his other officers, Jerry went out on a brief
tour of inspection. The turrets which had been manufactured in the cave were
being rolled out into the sunlight and stacked. Fire-powder grenades were being
issued to both flying warriors and members of the first contingent of rodal
cavalry. The heavier bombs were passed out to a picked group of fliers, who were also given a few small
grenades.
His
inspection completed, Jerry mounted his gawr, took his place at the head of the
raiding party, and set off for the canal work-camp. An hour's flight brought
them directiy above their objective.
As
soon as the party of raiders was sighted a general alarm was sounded. The
digging machines stopped work and their drivers were ordered off of them and
into the work-camp, where they were surrounded by the guards, for it was
believed that this was a slave raid. It suited Jerry's purpose to let them
think so. And so he continued to circle until all of the slaves had been herded
into the compound with their guards massed around them.
Then
he swooped down, and with a thousand riders armed with grenades, formed a line
between the camp arid the abandoned machines. Another thousand riders
dismounted behind them, and each ran to a machine. Meanwhile, the four thousand
remaining riders maneuvered until four gawrs hovered above each machine. Then
the riders each dropped two hooks suspended on heavy chains fifty feet in length.
The men on the ground swifdy fastened the hooks to the sides of the digging
machines.
As
soon as the guards realized what the raiders were about, they charged the line
of warriors which Jerry had posted on guard. But a few fire-powder grenades
hurled among them wrought such havoc that they beat a hasty retreat.
Before
they could rally, a thousand of the machines were dangling high above their
heads, each carried by four gawrs. And in a moment more the rest of the
raiders, led by Jerry, had taken to the air.
Straight
back to the camp they flew. Here the machines were lowered to the sand, their
supporting gawrs still hovering above them, and were swifdy fitted with the
turrets which had been built to their exact dimensions to protect the drivers.
In less than a half hour every turret was in
place with its shelves lined with grenades and an experienced driver in the
saddle.
And
now, at a command from the Earthman, the entire flying force took to the air.
Jerry flew in the lead, flanked on either side by Yewd and Koha, and
immediately followed by the contingent of fliers who carried the heavy bombs.
Those who carried the converted digging machines were in the center, and were
guarded on either side and at the rear by warriors armed with grenades. Behind these
came the large metal flying machines carrying foot soldiers.
The
sun was two-thirds of the way to the meridian when Jerry caught up with his
cavalry, about two jahuds from the Gate of Victory. As he had anticipated, a
heavy force of the Torturer's fliers circled above the gate. And the walls were
lined with warriors, ready for the attack.
The
Earthman sent his flying orderlies to carry his final commands to his various
officers, then urged his bird-beast forward. Instantly, those who carried heavy
bombs fell in behind him, forming an immense triangle in the sky. About five
hundred feet above them, and leading them by approximately the same distance,
flew a similar triangle of those who carried grenades.
At this, the flying warriors of the Torturer
formed a single wedge, much larger than either of his, and came hurtling toward
them. In accordance with their instructions, Jerry's men in the upper wedge did
not throw their grenades until the foremost enemy was within javelin range.
Then they began hurling them with deadly accuracy. The fire-powder exploded
with sharp detonations like those of cordite, and the havoc wrought among the
enemy fliers was appalling.
There
was, however, a drawback to this mode of warfare in the air. Some of the shell
fragments did considerable damage in his own ranks. He was about to order his
warriors to cease throwing grenades and use their javelins when the command was
made unnecessary by the enemy warriors themselves, their swift charge was turned to an ignominious and
disastrous rout.
A moment more and Jerry was passing above the
Gate of Victory at a height of about two thousand feet. The force above him
still retained its V formation, but the bombers now drew together in a long,
straight line, with the Earthman at the head. As he had expected, the Torturer
had virtually packed the Avenue of Triumph with his cavalry and foot-soldiers
arranged in succession so he could hurl them in alternate waves at any enemy
that might be able to pass the gate.
He
flew on, his bombers strung out behind him at intervals of about five hundred
feet, following the Avenue of Triumph straight to the palace.
In
the meantime, the Torturer's flying force continued its disorderly retreat,
until it reached the palace, where Sarkis himself was waiting. Jerry saw the
glint of his jeweled golden mask and armor on the roof, and a moment later saw
him take the air on the back of a gawr.
He
instantly reformed his forces, but Jerry had attained his objective.
Unhooking
a bomb from its rack in the front of his saddle, he dropped it to the packed
street below, then awaited the result. It struck between two warriors. There
was a terrific detonation, and the warriors, together with those around them,
disappeared in a cloud of dust, smoke and debris.
The
concussion was quickly followed by a series of similar explosions, which, in
the- space of a few seconds, traveled clear back to the Gate of Victory. And
when the smoke and dust cleared away, no living thing, either man or beast, was
left on the entire length of the avenue. There were only huge craters in the
paving where the bombs had struck.
Leaving
his bombers to hold their position above the Avenue of Triumph, Jerry now
soared upward to lead the other contingent against the hosts of the Torturer.
But this time he cautioned his warriors to fly above the foe.
There was a brisk, sharp engagement, and
again the forces of Sarkis were broken up. But the main body was driven back to
the palace roof, and with them was the Torturer himself. Jerry hurled a grenade
at him, but he forgot to set the time mechanism; it struck the neck of Sarkis's
mount, it bounded off and rolled harmlessly to the roof.
A
moment later the Torturer dismounted and disappeared into the mouth of one of
the tunnels which led to the lower levels, followed by several hundred of his
officers and men. Others of his force found haven in other tunnel mouths. But
at least half of those who alighted on the roof never lived to reach them.
Leaving
the main body of his men to guard the room and tunnels, Jerry, accompanied by
Yewd, Koha and a score of his best fighters, flew straight to the balcony of
Junia. As his bird-beast came to rest on the balcony, he heard the scream of a
girl in mortal terror.
Springing
from the saddle, he sprinted through the open window just in time to see Junia
carried through the door on the back of a hideous, masked figure, clothed in
woven gold links. The door slammed shut, there was the sound of a bolt sliding
into place, followed by the noise of retreating footsteps in the hallway.
Yewd
and Koha came through the window, and the other warriors began crowding in
after them. But Jerry ordered them all back. Then, standing just outside the
window, he hurled a percussion grenade at the door, and dropped below the sill.
There was a sharp explosion; when the Earthman raised his eyes above the sill
he saw that a jagged hole had been blown in the door. Dashing forward, he
plunged through that hole, followed by Yewd, Koha, and the other warriors.
In
the meantime, back at the Gate of Victory, Jerry's officers were carrying out
his orders. As soon as the last heavy bomb had exploded, clearing the avenue of
the Torturer's warriors, a small squad of gawr riders flew low over the gate
and adjacent walls, hurling grenades which swiftly wiped out the massed
defenders.
Following them came the gawrs carrying
digging machines at the ends of long chains. These were set down in the street,
four abreast, and the hooks released.
Behind
them, two huge flying machines discharged foot soldiers upon the walls and into
the gate towers. These quickly drove out the remnants of the defenders, and
taking charge of the control levers, swung the gates wide just as the sun
reached the zenith. At this, Jerry's fierce desert tribesmen, mounted on their
rodals, poured through. Half of them followed the converted digging machines in
their march along the Avenue of Triumph to the palace.
Sarkis
had stationed warriors in the windows and upon the roofs of the buildings on
either side to hurl javelins down upon the army of the Commoner. But as fast as
these showed themselves they were treated to grenades, hurled by the Earthman's
fliers.
The
other half of the rodal cavalry split in two parts, and accompanied by the
large metal flying machines containing the foot soldiers, began a systematic
circuit of the wall, killing or capturing the guards who did not flee, and
installing the men of the Commoner in their places.
Swiftly,
the blood-red pennon of the Torturer was torn down from each captured gate
tower. And in its place was hoisted the black standard of the Commoner, with
its single silver star. At the points where the numerous canals entered the
city, solid walls were built up from the terraces to a common level, and there
were tremendous barred gates which could be dropped in the channels to block
navigation.
All
these had to be captured and invested, as well as the land gates and sentinel
towers.
As the last armed rider passed through the
Gate of Victory, the jen in charge ordered it closed. Then, chancing to look
out of the tower window, he uttered an exclamation of surprise and turned to
the warrior who stood at the control levers.
"Look,
Tarjusl" he exclaimed. "A vast host approaches across the Plains of
Lavl And the sky above it is black with gawrs! Who do you think that could be? Now who could that be?"
Tarjus
looked out of the window for a moment, then cried out in dismay. "We are
in for it now, Deza help usl" he exclaimed. "A force the size of that
one can be none other than the combined armies of Numin Vil and Manith
Zovill"
CHAPTER XXVH
When the first cross street was reached by the
improvised tanks, there was a fierce charge of rodal cavalry from both sides
against the advancing machines. The drivers of the machines hurled grenades
into the foremost ranks of enemy cavalry, then made a swift countercharge.
The
huge steel jaws which had been designed to bite through solid rock now snapped
like living animals at the fighting men and their mounts. Warriors were bitten
completely in two, and a single snap was sufficient to kill or maim a rodal.
Around the edges of the melee the flying warriors of the Commoner continued to
hurl their grenades, harmless to the men in the metal turrets.
The
sanguinary engagement was soon ended, with the scattered remnants of the
Torturer's forces dashing off down the side streets.
At
the next cross street a charge of foot soldiers met the advancing forces. But
these were even more easily scattered than the cavalry. After that there was no
more opposition until the palace was reached. Here Sarkis had concentrated the
bulk of his most seasoned fighting men.
The army of the Commoner did not attack at
once. Instead, it split into two columns, which went to the right and left,
circling the palace until it was completely surrounded. Now a thousand metal
fighting machines faced the building from all sides.
When
all was in readiness, the machines advanced first. Some of them charged up to
doorways, others straight up to the wall. But no matter what was in front of
them, they went to work to remove it, biting out and swallowing great chunks of
the wall, and eating away the tremendous arches that framed the metal doors.
Swiftly, machines excavated tunnels through
the base of the wall. And as rapidly, others tore away the door frames and
arches. Presendy one machine ripped out a huge metal door, and charged through
into a closely packed mass of defenders. Behind it came Jerry's foot-soldiers,
hurling grenades as they went. As soon as they were through the doorway, the
rodal cavalry charged in after them and deployed to the right and left. At
almost the same time other machines were breaking through the walls and tearing
down the doors, to encounter similar resistance and employ like measures. And
soon the greatest battle ever fought in all Kalsivar was raging within the huge
palace itself.
In
the meantime Jerry, followed by Yewd, Koha and a score of his warriors, met
with a check as he plunged through the hole in the door of Junia's apartment in
pursuit of her masked abductor. For Sarkis had posted a considerable body of
fighting men in the corridor, and these outnumbered the Earthman's little band
at least five to one.
Jerry,
wielding his sword, was in the front and center as the two forces clashed. At
his side was the giant Yewd, using by preference in these close quarters, a
short, thick-shafted spear. At Yewd's left, Koha the black dwarf swung his huge
mace with great, smashing blows that snapped sword-blades, crushed skulls like
eggshells, and bit through bone and sinew alike. Behind them the small squad of
the Earthman's picked fighters used such weapons as best met the emergency or
suited their fancy.
Fully
half of their number were cut down before the Sarkis warriors realized that it
was sure death to step in front of the spear of the white giant, the sword of
the Commoner, or the mace of the black dwarf. But once this realization came to
them, they fled more swiftly than they had come to the encounter a short time
before.
Bleeding
from half a dozen small wounds, and panting from his exertions, Jerry paused
and leaned on his dripping sword, while one of his warriors applied jembal to
his injuries. Yewd and Koha also had their wounds dressed. Then his eyes
chanced to fall on one of the brown warriors who had been felled by the mace of
Koha.
Apparently
it had only struck him a glancing blow, for he was moaning and attempting to
rise. "Fetch me that warrior," Jerry ordered.
Two of his men removed the fellow's weapons,
picked him up, and laid him at the feet of the Earthman. "Give him
pulcho," said Jerry.
A
soldier produced a flask and put it to the man's lips. He drank deeply and
brightened perceptibly. "Get up," the Earthman ordered. He got to his
feet, swaying unsteadily. "Where has the Torturer gone?" "I
don't know."
"You
lie!" grated Jerry. "Throw him on his back and open his mouth."
Swifdy, the warriors
carried out his orders. Jerry took a small bottle of fire-powder from his belt
pouch, and standing over the prisoner, leisurely removed the stopper.
"A
few grains in the eyes might make you talk," he said. "I will try
that first. J£ it fails, then the mouth."
Jerry let a single grain of
the powder fall upon his perspiring cheek. It flared up, and the man screamed
as it seared his skin.
"Stop! Wait! I'll tell
you!" he shrieked.
"Ah, that is better," Jerry told
him. "I am more than just, for I am merciful. If you tell me the truth
this time, you will be spared."
"Before he went," said the
prisoner, "I heard the Lord Sarkis tell our jen to meet him in the central
audience chamber."
"Is that all he
said?" asked Jerry.
"He
said that in case the battle went against us, he had a hostage for the sake of
whose safety the Commoner would grant us all our freedom."
Jerry corked the fire-powder and replaced it
in his belt pouch.
"To the central audience chamber,"
he said, "and bring the prisoner with us, until we make sure he has told
us the truth."
When they reached the main floor platform
they heard the sudden deafening clamor of battle. Jerry went cautiously to the
door to reconnoiter, and saw that his fighting machines had broken into the
palace. Behind them, his foot-soldiers were hurling grenades into the massed
defenders, creating fearful carnage among them. And a moment later his rodal
cavalry charged in. From that time on, only cold steel was used.
In a
moment the wave of battle had reached the door where the Earthman stood, as the
forces of the Torturer fell back before the fierce onslaught of the desert
tribesmen. Foot by foot, the forces of the Torturer were cut down or forced
back, until Jerry's men were at the very doors of the audience chamber, and the
remnant of Sarkis's army was inside it.
Suddenly the clarion notes of a trumpet
sounded from the center of the vast room. In the military language of Mars,
they were a request for a truce.
Looking up, Jerry saw the herald standing on
the lower step of the central dais. But at the top stood the masked
Torturer.
He was supporting Junia with his left arm. And in his right hand gleamed a
dagger.
Instantly
the Earthman called for a herald, and when he came running up, ordered
him to sound the "Truce granted."
As
the silver tones broke over that vast assemblage, the din of battle ceased as
if by magic. Then the sepulchral tones of the Torturer floated across the room
to Jerry, sitting his rodal in the doorway.
"Desperate situations call for desperate
remedies. We do not ordinarily sacrifice women with the dagger, but the moment
one armed enemy sets foot within this room, Junia Sovil dies."
"My men will respect the truce so long
as yours do," said Jerry. "What do you want?"
"Freedom," replied the Torturer.
"You will immediately order that a gawr for me, and one for each of my
men, be saddled, provisioned and made ready on the palace roof at once. And in
earnest of your own good intentions, you will lay down your arms and join my
other prisoner, to be kept as a hostage until we are ready to depart."
"Release
the princess now, and I pledge you my word that you and your warriors shall all
go free and unharmed," said Jeny.
"Do
you take me for a fool?" the Torturer roared. "I am
not so gullible as all that."
"Very
well," said Jerry, "I will accept your terms. But if you attempt any
tricks, you and those with you will never leave this palace alive."
Vaulting
down from his saddle, he removed his weapons and handed them, one by one, by
Koha and Yewd. While he did so he rapidly issued instructions to them. Then, as
he handed his dagger to the black dwarf, a courier came running up.
"What is it?" asked Jerry.
"Numin
Vil and Manith Zovil are at the Gate of Victory
with a vast army," said the messenger. "They demand that we
immediately throw the gates ópen to
them, and say that failing in this, they will take the city by assault and slay
all of us."
"Tell them," the Earthman replied,
"that pressing business here at the palace prevents my meeting them and
escorting them hither. Tell them I have weapons that would destroy their armies
as easily as they did that of the Torturer. But say that I invite them to come
here and meet me for a friendly conference, guaranteeing them safe conduct.
Then, if they consent to come, bring them in my swiftest metal flier. But see
that none of their flying warriors are permitted to pass above the walls."
Jerry
whispered a final, "Don't forget the signal," to Yewd and Koha. Then
he turned and marched weaponless through the doorway.
The
Torturer's warriors opened their ranks to let him pass, and fearlessly he
strode up to the dais.
CHAPTER XXVIII
As Jerry
walked up to the dais on
which the Torturer stood with Junia, he saw that the princess was tightly
bound, hand and foot.
Sarkis
greeted him with a chuckle from the depths of his hideous mask.
"Now
I have you both where I can kill you. I will die content."
"What
do you mean?" asked Jerry. "Do you think you could do that and get
out of here alive?"
"Since this defeat, I have nothing left
to live for," said the Torturer. "I lured you here only for the
purpose of revenge. First you shall see your beloved die; then you shall share
her fate."
He
raised his dagger aloft, clutching the princess by her glossy black hair as she
struggled in his grasp. At the same instant Jerry lifted his hand to his head—a
signal his men would understand. Then he sprang straight for the top of the
dais.
The
Earthman's remarkable jumping powers were something Sarkis had overlooked; the
startled Torturer turned to defend himself. As Jerry alighted he gripped the
dagger wrist of Sarkis with his left hand, and with his right dealt him such a buffet on the side of the head as must have made his ears ring inside
the golden helmet.
The
Torturer released the girl and focused all his attention on the Earthman. The
two struggled for a moment on the narrow top of the dais, then lost their
balance at the edge, and toppling, rolled over and over to the floor.
At
the same instant pandemonium broke loose within that vast chamber. Jerry's men
opened hostilities by hurling grenades into the packed mass of their foes.
Then they charged. At this, some of the Torturer's men turned and ran toward
the dais. But to their utter astonishment they saw that a square section of the
floor, supported on four metal shafts, had risen in front of the throne.
Through the opening squirmed a white giant, followed by a black dwarf.
And after them poured a steady stream of the Commoner's fierce fighting men.
In a
few seconds the dais was completely surrounded by a ring of Jerry's soldiers, whose numbers were constantly augmented by
those who poured through from beneath. And now, the pitiful remnant of the
Torturer's army threw down their arms and surrendered.
Not
so the Torturer. He wrenched himself free from Jerry's grasp and with his
dagger aimed a blow at his heart.
But
the Earthman kicked the weapon from his hand and sprang back.
"Give me a sword," he told Koha,
"then cut the princess free and stand guard over her. But see that no one
molests the Torturer. He is mine alone to deal with."
As
the black dwarf pressed his sword into the Earthman's hand, Sarkis drew his own
weapon.
"Some
days ago," said Jerry, "you challenged me to a duel, but did not
appear. Though I slew your substitute, I do not consider the affair setded.
What is your opinion?"
"It
will be settled when I have killed you," grated Sarkis, lunging.
Jerry deflected the lunge with ease, then
before his opponent could recover, raked him across the chest with his point,
cutting a long gash in his garment of golden mesh and revealing an expanse of
shirung.steel beneath.
"Ah, a
breastplate!" said Jerry. "We must remove it."
Again
they engaged, and again Jerry slit his enemy's golden covering, so that one
corner hung down. A third slash, and Sarkis wore a golden apron which flopped about
his legs as he moved.
But
Jerry had only begun. Systematically, he began undressing his opponent with
his point. At the fourth slash, the Torturer was plainly revealed as a
brown-skinned man. With his golden disguise cut away from him, his torso was naked
save for the breastplate. Then the Earthman cut the straps that held it, and it
clattered to the floor.
At
this Jerry heard a hearty laugh behind him, and turning for an instant, saw
Manith Zovil, who had just come up with Numin Vol. The Vil was clutching the
collar of a great black dalf, who was growling thunderously and seemed anxious
to leap forward to the aid of the Earthman.
"Back, Neem,"
said Jerry quickly.
Though
the Torturer fought desperately, he was now badly hampered by his heavy golden
garments, which he was compelled to hold up with one hand to keep them from
slipping down around his legs and tripping him.
Suddenly Jerry avoided a lunge, and springing
in, struck upward so that his pommel caught beneath the hooked nose of the
hideous mask. It flew off revealing the features of Thoor Movil. Before his
enemy could recover, Jerry turned and brought his blade down upon that of the
brown prince with such force that the weapon was knocked from his grasp.
At
this sudden revelation of the identity of the Torturer there were cries of
amazement from the onlookers, and shouts of "Kill the false Vill Slay the
Torturerl Pierce his rotten heart!"
"Yield
or die," said Jerry, presenting his point to his enemy's breast.
"I yield,"
replied Thoor Movil.
"Take
charge of the prisoner," said Jerry, sheathing his sword. Two of his
warriors sprang forward to do his bidding, and he turned to salute his royal
guests. Junia had joined her father, and the Vil stood with his arm around her
slight figure, while she fondled the head of Neem, the dalf.
Manith Zovil smiled broadly as he
acknowledged Jerry's salute.
"That
was rare entertainment you just afforded us, my friend," he said.
"I'm glad you invited us here to witness it."
"But
I didn't," replied Jerry. "I hoped to have it over with by the time
you arrived."
"Then
Deza be thanked that you miscalculated. I wouldn't have missed it for a million
tayzos."
Numin
Vil was more brusque. "Now that you have seized my capital, what do you
intend doing with it?"
"I
believe you offered the hand of your daughter to the man who would recapture it
for you," Jerry replied.
"That
offer was made to my friend Manith Zovil, and not to the murderer of my
son," thundered the Vil.
"One
moment, majesty," interrupted Manith Zovil. "It seems that between us
we have done my friend Jerry Morgan a grave injustice. He did not kill your
son."
"Then who did?"
"I slew Shiev Zovil in
self-defense," replied the Prince. "I met him in the corridor near Jerry Morgan's apartment, and he lunged at
me without a word of warning, when my sword was sheathed. I leaped back, and
only the fact that the point was stopped by my breastbone saved my life.
"Then I drew my own
weapon, and we had it out."
The poker face of Numin Vil showed nothing of
his feelings, but his rumbling voice grew suddenly tremulous. "I— I
cannot understand why Shiev attacked you thus."
"I
can explain that, also," replied Manith Zovil. "Thoor Movil poisoned
his mind against me. He wished to marry Junia himself, and after putting you
and the crown prince out of the way, to make himself Vil of Kalsivar. As you
see, his plans underwent some slight changes through circumstances, but his
central purpose has ever been the same."
"It
seems," rumbled Numin Vil, tinning and fixing the prisoner with his
expressionless eyes, "that my nephew is responsible not only for the
death Of my son, but for all of our troubles and misunderstandings. Were he my
prisoner . . ."
"He
is your prisoner, majesty," interrupted Jerry. "I wish to rum him
over to you, along with your capital and your empire, which I will tell you
frankly that I do not want. All I ask is that you legaDy free those of my
followers who have been slaves, pardon those who have broken your laws, and
permit us all to go in peace."
"Then you have no
ambition to rule Kalsivar?"
"None whatever."
The
Vil again regarded his treacherous nephew. "Thoor Movil," he said,
"I sentence you .. ."
At
this moment there was an interruption. No one had paid any attention to the
slight, brown-skinned girl attired in a gray slave habit, who had unobtrusively
wormed her way through the crowd to a position behind Thoor Movil. Jerry's
first inkling of what was taking place was when he saw the glint of light on
the blade of a dagger which she slipped into the prince's right hand.
The feel of that weapon galvanized the
desperate prince to sudden action. Before the two warriors who stood guard at
either side of him had any idea what was taking place, he sprang forward,
seized the Vil by his braided beard, and raised his dagger to plunge it into
the monarch's heart.
To
all save Jerry this development was so unexpected, that they could only stand,
gasping and helpless. But the Earth-man had caught the glint of the dagger just
in time. And so, when Thoor Mo vil deaped, Jerry' was but a fraction of a
second behind him. With a single, sweeping motion, his sword flashed from its
scabbard and described a glittering arc. One moment the bystanders saw the
brown prince standing with dagger raised for the death thrust; the next, they
saw the upraised arm and sneering head leap upward and fly through the air,
both severed by the same terrific blow.
Behind
him Jerry heard a female voice screaming—cursing. He turned and saw Nisha
Novil, wearing the gray of a slave girl, struggling in the grip of two of his
warriors.
"What
is this?" thundered Numin Vil. "Has my niece become a slave?"
"It
was she who passed the dagger to Thqor Movil, majesty," volunteered one of
the men.
"Then
she shall have the sentence I intended for her traitorous brother,"
rumbled the monarch. "Nisha Novil, you are stripped of your royal rank,
your wealth and lands. You have chosen to wear the habit of a slave girl as a
disguise. Wear it now as your future apparel. And tomorrow you go on the
auction block."
He
waved his hand, and the two warriors dragged her away, still kicking, cursing,
biting and scratching.
"Deza
help the man who buys her," said Manith Zovil dryly.
The Vil turned to the
Earthman.
"Jerry
Morgan," he said, "you have not only restored my daughter and my
empire, but have saved my life. The rewards which I promised you on the Plains
of Lav shall now be yours. A million tayzos and the Raddek of Dhoor."
At this Jerry's heart turned bitter within
him. For a moment he was minded to hold the empire which lay within his
grasp—to make Junia his own, despite the evident reluctance of the Vil to give
his daughter to a commoner. But he remembered that the princess had agreed to
marry Manith Zovil, and he did not want the empire; it was only Junia he
wanted—Junia and his freedom.
"I
care not for your riches nor your tides," he said. "The free,
adventurous life of your deserts and marshes suits me better than your crowded
city existence. I would sooner sleep beneath the jeweled vault of heaven than
in a palace with a golden roof set with the most precious gems; would rather
watch the sun rise over the sand dunes or through the morning mists that hang
over the Atabah Marsh, than over the most ornate building in your vast city. I
want to go back to my wild tribesmen—to ride and hunt and live and .. ."
"And
love?" asked Junia, coming quickly to his side and looking up at him with
starry eyes, eloquent with a meaning which he could not mistake.
"And
love!" he replied, taking her in his arms and possessing himself of her
eager, upturned lips.
"Then take me with
you, my Commoner," she murmured.
He looked up at the Vil.
"On
my world," he said, "it is a custom for outlaws to say, Tour money or
your lif el" You know that I hold all Kalsivar in the hollow of my hand.
And I, the outlaw of Mars, now say to you, *Your empire or your daughterl' It
is up to you to choose."
For
a moment the Vil glared at him, speechless. Then the suspicion of a twinkle
came to his usually expressionless eyes as he replied: "Since she,
herself, has chosen you, take her, my boy, and may Deza bless you both."
So
Jerry Morgan, though he had renounced the throne of the greatest empire on all Mars, was very well content.
ACE
SCIENCE-FICTION CLASSICS now include the following distinguished novels:
D-283
CITY by Clifford D. Simak
A
masterpiece of future history, described by Anthony Boucher as "a
high-water mark in science-fiction writing."
D-309 THE ISLAND OF DR. MOREAU by H. G. Wells
This
novel of a vivisectionist's secret island is an unforgettable work of macabre
imagination.
D-324
BRIGANDS OF THE MOON by Ray Cummings
A thrilling
novel of the clash of two planets for the ore of the Moon—space-adventure of
the most exciting kind.
D-388
WHEN THE SLEEPER WAKES by H. G. Wells
A
powerful novel of things to come, Hugo Gerns-back called this "the
outstanding story of its class of all times."
D-397
JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF THE EARTH
by Jules Verne
The
first 20th Century translation of the book from which the movie was made—a unique
experience.
D-473 THE GREATEST ADVENTURE by John Taine
An
exciting novel of a lost land overrun with the monsters of an evolution gone
wild!
D-504
MASTER OF THE WORLD by Jules Verne Which included "Robur the
Conqueror."
35(4
Ask
your newsdealer, or purchase directly from the publisher for 350 per copy
(plus 50 handling fee), by writing to Ace Books, Inc. (Sales Dept.), 23 W.
47th St., New York 36, N.Y. ,
Here's
a quick checklist of recent releases of ACE SCIENCE-FICTION BOOKS
35*
D-508
MORE MACABRE edited by Donald A. Wollheim D-509 THE BEAST MASTER by Andre Norton
and STAR HUNTER by Andre Norton D-516
THE SWORDSMAN OF MARS
by Otis Adelbert Kline D-517 BRING BACK YESTERDAY by Bertram Chandler
and
THE TROUBLE WITH TYCHO by Clifford Simak D-525
THIS WORLD IS TABOO by Murray Leinster D-527 STAR GUARD by Andre Norton
400
F-104 MAYDAY ORBIT by Poul Anderson
and
NO MAN'S WORlD by Kenneth Bulmer F-105
THE BEST FROM FANTASY AND SCIENCE FICTION
Fifth
Series Edited by Anthony Boucher. F-108
THE SUN SABOTEURS by Damon Knight
and
THE LIGHT OF LILITH by G. McDonald Wallis F-109 STORM OVER WARLOCK by Andre Norton F-l
13 REBELS OF THE RED PLANET by Charles
Fontenay
and 200 YEARS TO CHRISTMAS by J. T. Mcintosh F-l 14 THE BIRD OF TIME by Wallace West F-l 17 RENDEZVOUS ON A LOST WORLD
by A. Bertram Chandler
and THE DOOR THROUGH SPACE
by Marion Z. Bradley
If
you are missing any of these, they can be obtained directly from the publisher
by sending the indicated sum, plus 50 handling fee, to Ace Books, Inc. (Sales
Dept.), 23 West 47th St., New York 36, N. Y.
EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS
couldn't
have written it better! That's what tens of thousands of "Tarzan" and
"John Carter" readers say of
OTIS ALBERT KLINE.
In
THE OUTLAWS OF
MARS
Kline once again presents an interplanetary novel packed with daring
Earthmen, beautiful princesses, terrifying monsters, and hairbreadth
adventures.