VENUSIAN ADVENTURE BY THE AUTHOR OF THE SWORDSMAN OF MARS
Robert
Grandon, tired of the ease and luxury of the Twentieth Century, yearned for a
life of romance and adventure. Then suddenly he was offered an opportunity
beyond his wildest expectations—to exchange consciousness with his
'look-alike" on Venus, the Venus of some millions of years in the past.
Thus Grandon finds himself the prisoner of
the most powerful ruler on Venus, a beautiful and dangerous woman; And even should he somehow escape the fierce and warlike
Reabonians, could he hope to survive in the Valley of the Sabits, where men are
the slaves of beasts?
OTIS ADELBERT KLINE: An
Appreciation
The
creator of Tarzan and John Carter of Mars, Edgar Rice Burroughs, was, without a
doubt, the most famous author of fantasy-adventure. Though his imitators were
legion, only one man was able to compete successfully with Burroughs. He was
Otis Adelbert Kline.
Though they wrote for the same publishers and
were filmed by the same movie studios, Kline never meant to compete with
Burroughs. He admired the author and it was his enthusiasm for that type of
story that inspired him to create his own universe of planets of peril, peopled
by swashbuckling planeteers and stimulating sirens.
You
have in hand a Kline novel. This is not the science-fiction of computers and
analogs. There will be no roar of rockets. This is for the reader who wants a
free-fall flight in fantastic adventure with star-flung heroes fighting
furiously for honor on worlds without it, and beautiful maidens who know there is a fate worse than death! This is for the reader who likes his thrills
unique, and his fiction spellbinding from first page to last
Interested? Then Otis Adelbert Kline is your
meatl The only author to be compared with Edgar Rice
Burroughs, but whose work is as original as Burroughs' ownl
—Vernell
Cobiell Founder, The Burroughs Bibliophiles
PLANET OF PERIL
ACE
BOOKS, INC. 1120 Avenue of the Americas New York 36, N.Y.
Copyright ©, 1961, by Ellen
Kline Copyright, 1930, by Frank A. Munsey Co. An Ace Book, by
arrangement with Thomas Bouregy & Co., Inc.
Cover art and title-page illustration by Roy Rrehkel, Jr.
Otis Adelbert Kline novels available from Ace Books:
THE
SWORDSMAN OF MARS (D-516) THE OUTLAWS OF MARS (D-531)
Printed in U.S.A.
CHAPTER
I
R-obeht
Ellsmobe Grandon
stifled a yawn with
difficulty as the curtain went down on the first act of Don Giovanni and
wondered what was the matter. It wasn't that opera
bored him, or that tonight's performance was inferior; in fact, what he had
been able to give his attention to struck him as being among the best
performances he had seen. But something was distracting him, something he could
not put his finger on; and the effort to keep his attention on the music and
the performers was tiring him. Perhaps it was just one of those days, he
thought.
He was tired of life at twenty-four, he decided—tired and disillusioned
and somehow trapped. After his spell of military service, he'd broken away from
family obligations and expectations to join revolutionaries in Cuba. The struggle
there had seemed important, worth risking his neck for; but he'd seen, much
earlier than some others, that the new regime was just a change of masters.
He'd gotten out while getting out was easy and returned to take up the career
in insurance administration that his uncle wanted him to take—the uncle who had
paid his college expenses. Now, Robert and Vincent Grandon would prepare for
the position that Uncle Arthur would be leaving in a few years. It would be a
good career for both young men; for while only one
could step into Arthur Grandon's shoes, the second
spot would be no less desirable.
Very
likely, with full effort, he could make the top—but his cousin had the extra
measure of devotion to the business that Robert Grandon simply couldn't bring.
Robert Ellsmore Grandon yearned for action, adventure, romance—something that
seemed to be gone in this world of the Twentieth Century.
He
made his way to the bar thinking that he'd chuck it all in a moment for a
chance to think and act for himself, for a chance to accomplish something worth
while according to his own lights. Yes—insurance was worth while, he thought as
he sat at the bar and beckoned to Louis, but not worth his while.
Louis
looked his way, nodded, and started to mix a gibson
for him. The bartender had a curious grin on his face as he set the glass down.
"Did you get the message, Mr. Grandon?"
Robert Grandon blinked.
"What message?"
"Didn't you see the
papers today?"
Grandon
shook his head. "Just glanced at them. What's
up?"
Louis went back and bent down, to return with
the Times,
folded to a certain page,
and placed it on the bar before him. To Grandon's astonishment, he saw a sketch
of himself staring him in the face.
"Had
you planned in advance to come tonight, Mr. Grandon?"
Grandon
looked up with a puzzled expression on his face. "No—now that you mention
it, I hadn't. I was going to ask a friend to come with me next Friday night.
Came down this morning to see about tickets, and decided that I'd come tonight
alone, when I found that there was a good seat available.
. . . .Don't know why, now that I think of it."
Louis'
face wore a strange smile. "Read that ad, Mr. Grandon. Maybe you are the
one."
Grandon
picked up the paper. The heading read, "l Want
You!" There was no caption under the sketch; beneath it, the text said:
"I do not know your name, or anything about you, except that you are in the city.
I want to perform an experiment, and you may be the man I need. If you are, you
will know by these tokens.
"You will feel an urge to go to a
certain place tonight which you may or may not have been planning to go to, and
you will want to get there around 8 p.m. Starting at 8:30 p.m., every half hour, I will send you a
message. You may not hear it the first or second time, but you may feel
distracted. If you are the man I want, it will seem as if a voice is speaking
to you. It will be a voice in your mind; it will say 'Doctor Morgan' and direct
you to go to a particular spot. There a man will be waiting for you; he will
ask you a question which I shall also tell you of when I communicate with you.
Please give him a hearing before you decide."
"Looks as if you've gotten the first
part of it, Mr. Grandon. You hadn't expected to come tonight, but here you are."
Grandon put the newspaper down. It had been just about half an hour after the performance started that he'd begun
to feel distracted and a little irritated.
Louis said, "It's two minutes of nine,
Mr. Grandon. Maybe you'll get the message this time."
Grandon sipped the gibson, with his- eyes on the clock. He tried to relax, to
let himself open to whatever thoughts might come into his head. He'd heard'of
experiments in telepathy, and while he didn't find parapsychology too
convincing, he had no strong bias against it. In fact, he'd thought that it
might be fascinating if this sort of thing could be so. Here would be a new
frontier if . ..
It wasn't exacdy a whisper, but there was a softness about a voice he now seemed to hear yet not to
hear. It said, "Doctor Morgan." Grandon sat up straight. Again it
came: "Doctor Morgan." A third time; then the voice said, "Go to
the telephone booths in the lobby. A man wearing a tuxedo with a green lapel
pin will offer you a cigarette."
The voice ceased. Grandon waited a moment or
two, but there was nothing more.
"Did you get it, Mr.
Grandon?" asked Louis eagerly.
Grandon finished his gibson
and put a bill down on the bar. "Could be," he said. "I have a
pretty good imagination, you know. Think I'll wait another half hour and
see."
He
left the bar. Either this was or it wasn't. If it was, then he might as well
follow up now as wait another half hour. If it wasn't, it didn't make any
difference; he couldn't possibly pay any attention to the opera now, no matter
who was singing.
He made his way to the phone booths in the
lobby and looked around, oblivious to the feminine eyes that turned to glance
at his broad shoulders and curly black hair. No one fitting the description
he'd received was in sight. He waited a moment
and began to feel foolish.
Just
imagination, he decided a little sadly. Well, there was time for a cigarette
before he had to get back to his seat. He was reaching for his case when a
pleasant voice at his right said, "Try one of mine, won't you?"
Grandon
turned and looked into the smiling eyes of a man about his own age. A man wearing a tuxedo with a green lapel
pin. He accepted with thanks.
"Excellent performance, don't you
think?" volunteered the smiling one, lighting a cigarette himself which he
had, unnoticed by Grandon in his confusion, taken from the side of the case
opposite the one which he had extended a moment
before.
"I suppose so—ah—why, yes, of course . . Grandon was beginning to feel unaccountably drowsy.
Suddenly he slumped forward, and would have fallen on his face, but for the
quick assistance of the friendly young man. A moment later he lost
consciousness.
An attendant came running up. "What's
the matter with your friend?" he asked.
"Fainted dead away. It's his heart; he's had spells like this
quite often lately. Help me get him outsdoors."
The
two of them carried Grandon outside, followed by the more curious bystanders.
When he reached the sidewalk, the young man waved to the driver of a car parked on the other side of the street. It immediately swung across and drew up to the
curb.
"Let's
put him in the car," said the young man. "I'm used to this—a spin on
Michigan Boulevard will revive him. Just needs fresh air; His doctor has told
me how to handle him."
They
lifted Grandon into the car and the driver put the top down. The young man
handed a crisp bill to the attendant and got into the car, which drove away.
CHAPTER II
When Grandon regained consciousness he was lying on a cot
in a dimly lighted room. He looked about Him in bewilderment as he saw four bare concrete
walls, a heavy oak door studded with many large bolts, and a small window
fitted with powerful iron bars 'more than an inch in diameter.
There was a chair and a small table with a
lamp on it next to the cot. On the table, Grandon saw a sheet of paper. He
rolled over and picked it up, switching on the lamp.
"Dear Mr. Grandon," he read, "I must admit and apologize for technically kidnapping you; but I hope to be able to persuade you shortly that this was both necessary and to your advantage. Now I must ask you to be patient for a little while; I shall see you soon. The drug you were given should be wearing off by evening—you were kidnapped last night—and I can assure you that it will have no harmful after-effects, physical or mental." The paper was signed, "Dr. Morgan."
Grandon arose and tottered unsteadily toward
the door. It was evidently locked from the outside, for he could not rattle it.
He went to the window and peered out. Night had fallen, and a myriad of
twinkling stars looked down at him from a clear sky. Not a tree, house, or
earthly object of any land was visible. There was only the starry sky above and
the black void below.
He heard the sound of talking, and wheeled
about as a bolt slid back and the door opened. Two men entered. The foremost
was tall and of large structure; his forehead was high and bulged outward, so
that his shaggy eyebrows, which grew together above the bridge of his aquiline
nose, half-concealed his eyes. He wore a pointed, closely-cropped beard, in
which a few gray hairs proclaimed him as middle-aged. Behind him was the young
man who had given him the drugged cigarette in the lobby of the opera house.
The
young man advanced and extended his hand. "How are you feeling now, Mr.
Grandon?" he asked. "Ah, you seem surprised that we know your name.
That will be explained to you. I should have introduced myself sooner. My name
is Harry Thome. Allow me to present Doctor Morgan."
The big man held out his hand and said in a
booming bass voice, "This is a pleasure I have long anticipated, Mr.
Grandon."
It
was nothing like the voice he had heard in his mind, and yet it was the same
voice. Grandon realized that at once; and his curiosity, added to the feeling
of confidence in these men's intentions toward him that the note had imparted,
washed away any resentment he might feel at their methods. He clasped the
doctor's muscular hand and muttered an acknowledgment.
"And
now," said Morgan, "if you will accompany us to dinner, we shall
start the explanation due you. Afterwards, I shall ask you to read two
interesting manuscripts before we talk further; they will tell you far more,
and prepare you far better, for the experiment I have in mind than a lecture
from me."
In Dr. Morgan's drawing room, where night had
given way to day while Robert Ellsmore Grandon read two novel-length
manuscripts, Dr. Morgan—who had entered just as Grandon was finishing the last
chapter of the second box of neatly-typed pages—smiled at his guest quizzically.
"What do you think of them?" he asked.
Grandon
shook his head. "If I hadn't had the experience of the past day or so, I'd
think they were just good stories and nothing more. Even so, they sound
fantastic."
"They
are," Morgan agreed. "But nonetheless true. To summarize briefly, I
started experimenting with telepathy ten years ago, and finally succeeded in
building a device which would pick up and amplify thought waves."
"And
thought waves, you found," said Grandon, "are not limited by space or
time. So you picked up the waves projected by another man who had built a
similar device to project them—only this man was on Mars."
"But not the present-day Mars—the Mars of some millions of years
ago, when a high human civilization did exist there."*
"And
you and this Martian scientist, Lai Vak, found that persons who are nearly
doubles in physical appearance may have similar brain-patterns—enough alike so
that consciousness may be exchanged between them. Your first experiment
involved such an exchange "between an Earth-man named Harry Thome and a
Martian named Borgen Tak-kor. The man you now call Harry Thome was bom on Mars
as Borgen Takkor, while the true Harry Thome is 'now' living on Mars—and
leading a most adventurous and satisfying career from the account I just
read."
Dr.
Morgan nodded. "He and his princess have had many adventures together
beyond those related in the first manuscript. To us, of course, both have been
dead millions of years. But it is possible for me to tune in on their lives at
*See "The Swordsman of Mars" by
Otis Adelbert Kline, Avalon Books, 1960.
any point where Harry was transmitting to me. He
has never regretted his choice."
"Then," went on
Grandon, "you got in touch with a Venusian named Vorn Vangal, who is a
contemporary of Lai Vak and Borgen Takkor. With his help you constructed a space-time
vehicle through which your nephew, Jerry Morgan, was able to go to Mars in the
flesh. And he, too, made out pretty well."00
Morgan nodded. "Yes. I sent Jerry to
Mars that way, and hoped that I'd be able to send someone to Venus the same
way. But my telekinetic control failed in some way on the return trip, and I
never recovered the ship I built for Jerry. Vom Vangal said he would build one
on Venus and send it to Earth for me, so that I could visit him, but I do not
know when this will be possible. It may be soon; it" may not be for some
years." Morgan smiled. "And I'm not too patient a man. I know that it
is possible for me to get an account of Venus as seen by Earthmen's eyes—the Venus
that was, in relation to the Mars that was—just as I learned about Mars in
those two manuscripts you've read. So I asked Vom Vangal if he could send me
the brain waves of two Venu-sians, to see if I could find their counterparts
here on Earth. Then Harry urged me to try to see if there was a Venusian with
whom he could change personalities—so I sent his picture and brain-wave pattern
to Vom Vangal."
"I see. And Vom Vangal sent you the
picture and brainwave pattern of a Venusian who was—me."
"Yes. You'll recall that Lai Vak had
shown me how to construct a mind-compass, which would indicate whether there
were any living persons here on Earth whose brainwaves corresponded with those
of the Martians whose pictures he sent me. This would not only aid in my
finding such people here on Earth, it would also protect me from disappointment
on coming across someone who looked right,
"See The
Outlaws of Mars" by Otis Adelbert Kline, Avalon Books, 1960.
but whose brain-pattern did not match closely
enough for an exchange of personalities, after all."
"Has that happened?" Grandon asked.
"Only
once. But
now it's all arranged for Harry; and I hope you'll be interested in going to
Venus, too."
Grandon smiled. "After
reading those two accounts of conditions on Mars, I certainly am. Of course, I
suppose it's nothing like Venus."
"There are differences, of course, but
the civilizations are on a somewhat similar level. The planet is known as
Zarovia, and your physical counterpart is a gentleman who has been enslaved by
an Amazon ruler—a princess with no thought save of her
own pleasure. He finds it impossible to escape from bondage, and is therefore
willing to make the exchange. Mr. Thome's bodily duplicate is a prince of a
realm on the opposite side of the planet from that occupied by the slave. The
prince has been petted and pampered and shielded from all danger, and longs for
adventure; he is willing to exchange bodies for a time with Mr. Thome. . . . Well,
what do you say? Are you willing to make the trip?"
Grandon smiled. "You know, Doctor, I'm a little surprised. You
investigated the Earth-bom Harry Thome very carefully, because you'd made a
bad choice and sent a criminal to Mars ahead of him. You knew your nephew
thoroughly because you were in telepathic communication with him for years,
though he didn't know it then. But what do you know about me?"
"Touche!" chuckled Morgan. "I
forgot to tell you. I've gone a good ways beyond telepathic projection in the
last few years. When I contacted your mind, I also got a very full picture of
your character and personality—no intimate details, but sufficient to assure me
that you were the sort of man I wanted. And that you were very likely to go
along with me if the way could be cleared for you. . . . But suppose you tell
me of any inhibiting factors; I think they can be cleared up."
Robert Ellsmore Grandon recounted his
personal situation briefly, and Morgan nodded.
"Yes," he said. "This checks with the information I've gathered
on Mr. Arthur Grandon since you arrived here. He's sincerely devoted to you,
you know. I don't believe he'll stand in the way if he knows you want to go on
some caper of your own and by your own choice. . . . Suppose you phone him long
distance now. Here's what I suggest you tell him . .
"You were right,
Doctor," Grandon said after bidding his uncle farewell. "Uncle Arthur
agrees that Vincent is better suited to handle the firm than I. He just wanted
me to try for awhile and see—says he half expected something like this when I
disappeared and was concerned lest I forget to let him know."
"Then we need waste no more time, Mr. Grandon."
"But—my body will remain here while my
personality goes to Venus. What happens to it?"
"You need have no fear about that. The
man who comes to inhabit it—forgotten about him, haven't you?—will naturally
be careful of it; for if he loses it there will be no return for him, either to
this world or his own."
"What do we have to do
in order to exchange bodies? And how will you keep in touch with me?"
"I will, at regular intervals, establish
telepathic rapport with you and Thome while you are asleep. You will know
nothing of these telepathic communications—which will be as detailed as those
you read last night—unless I see fit to convey a message to you which will
probably come in the form of a dream, so vivid that you will remember every detail.
If you wish to communicate with me for any reason whatever, I will leam,of it when I establish rapport with you."
Grandon sighed. "I'm ready. Want me to
lie down and look into a mirror the way Harry Thorne did when you sent him to
Mars?"
"Right. And the present Harry Thorne will follow you in a few hours—you may
meet on Venus, though it isn't too likely." He set up the mirror, painted
with alternate circles of red and black, as Crandon reposed on the sofa. "Now think of Venus, far off in time and space—millions of miles, millions
of years away ..
CHAPTER IH
Robert Ellsmore Grandon, was awakened from a sound sleep by a shaft of brilliant sunlight which shone through the
mica-paneled window of the quarry-slaves' sleeping quarters. He blinked, turned
uneasily, then sat up. His muscles appeared stiff and
bruised and his back smarted and burned. He noticed that his sole articles of
apparel consisted of a scarlet breechcloth and a pair of sandals of strange design. His skin was browned; his hands were
rough and callused. His face was covered with a thick, black beard, and his hair was matted and unkempt.
He
rose stiffly and walked to the window, hoping for a clear view of a Zarovian landscape, but he- was disappointed, for in
front of his window there stretched a solid wall of black marble cliffs. The
only visible vegetation consisted of a few pink toadstool-like growths which
grew from niches in the rock, some over twelve feet in height.
He turned and glanced at his roommates. Fifty
men were quartered in the sleeping shed. The bedding consisted of a.coarse,
dried moss, which made an exceptionally resilient couch. The men were attired
like Grandon, except that their breechclouts were gray instead of scarlet.
Their skins were sun-burned like his own, and marked
with scars and open wounds.
Grandon
was startled by a hollow booming sound, and someone on
the outside opened a large door at the center of the shed. Instantly every man
sprang to his feet, and he saw that they were forming in single file to march
through the door. He joined the procession, which was heading for a large
building in the midst of a group of sheds similar to the one he had occupied,
and saw that the sound emanated from a large cylinder of iron suspended from a
steel beam in front of the building, and beaten by a man who wielded a large
club wrapped with thongs.
Heavily-armed
guards stood at intervals of about fifty feet on either side of their pathway.
Each guard carried a tall spear with a broad blade about four feet long; a
sword with a basket hilt, its blade rather like that of a scimitar, hung from
the left side of the belt.
From
the right depended a weapon which was utterly strange to Crandon.
It was about two feet long, oblong like a carpenter's level, and apparently
composed of blued steel. A rivet passed completely through it about four inches
from the end, holding it firmly to the belt, although it could be tilted at any
angle, and its wearer could point it in any direction by turning his body.
Grandon
had yet to learn the efficiency of this weapon, the tork, which fired
needlelike glass projectiles filled with a potent poison that paralyzed man and
beast alike almost as soon as it penetrated, and had a range as great as the
most powerful of rifles. These tiny bullets were propelled by a highly
explosive gas, ignited by an electric spark at the touch of a button.
The gas was compressed in a chamber at the
rear of the tork, while the glass missiles were held in a magazine near the
muzzle. After a shot was fired, the weapon would automatically reload, a bullet
sliding into place in front while just the right charge of gas was released in
the chamber behind it. Each tork, held a thousand rounds of ammunition.
The slaves passed through the building where
each man had his ration doled out to him: a bowl of stewed mushrooms and a
steaming cup of a beverage which Grandon found to be very much like a strong
wine.
As he followed his
companions, Crandon noticed that each man stopped before a small shrine and
stood for a moment with head bowed low and hand extended toward it, palm
downward. When he reached the shrine, he stopped as the others had done, then
gave a gasp of amazement at a life-size painting of the most beautiful woman he
had ever seen.
She wore a robe of scarlet, ornamented with
gold and precious stones, and a jeweled band of platinum imprisoned a mass of
golden curls which were piled on top of her head after a style different from
anything he had ever seen. She was seated on a massive golden throne with
cushions of scarlet, across the arms of which rested a scarbo—a sword like
those carried by the guards, but with a hilt of gold studded with rubies.
Could this be the Amazon ruler of whom Dr. Morgan had spoken?
A sharp exclamation brought him to his
senses; he turned and saw an overseer 'advancing with whip upraised. Quickly
bowing as the others had done, he ran forward to join his fellow slaves.
Once
outside the building, the men seated themselves on
the ground in little scattered groups for their morning meal.
Crandon joined a company of those who had occupied the
same dormitory with him. «■..
He could not take part in
the general conversation because the language was unintelligible to him—yet
the words sounded strangely familiar. A recollection of their meaning was
stored in the brain cells of the body which had become his, but the ego, which
was Crandon could not interpret them. He kept silent
and listened.
The meal finished, the
slaves were herded to the quarries by their drivers. Each driver, who had
charge of ten slaves, wore both tork and scarbo in his belt and carried a whip,
the five lashes of which were woven from some coarse fiber and interwoven with
short pieces of a brittle, nettlelike moss, which broke off in the skin of the
victim, inflicting pain like that of a thousand bee stings.
Grandon managed to keep pace with his fellow
slaves. The intense heat of the sun would have made labor in the open
impossible, had it not been constantly tempered by the floating clouds of
vapor, ever present in the dense, moist Zarovian atmosphere.
The marble was being removed from the
hillside in large rectangular blocks, by thousands of slaves working on a
series of terraces, each of which was the height of one of the blocks. The
crews were so distributed that the terraced hillside constantly retained the
same general contour.
Grandon's
crew worked on the bottom terrace all morning, but were ordered to the top in
the afternoon to reinforce the laborers in that section who, for some reason,
had not kept up their quota. He and a fellow slave were removing one of the
heavy blocks by means of levers when his end slipped and fell on another block,
breaking off a large fragment. The driver raised his whip and struck Grandon a
stinging blow across the shoulders.
Quickly wheeling, Grandon landed a tremendous
right hook on the point of the man's jaw. It was a clean knock-out. Another
driver came running with whip upraised, but Grandon bowled him over with a marble
fragment and ran through the group of startled slaves toward the brow of the
hill. Some one raised the alarm and a half dozen torks were immediately
pointecf toward the fugitive. Several slaves fell, struck by the missiles
intended for him, as he disappeared over the hilltop.
Before him stretched a dense, waving forest
of tree fems into which he plunged without slackening his speed, his pursuers
close behind. As he dodged in and out among the tree trunks he could hear their
halloos growing fainter and fainter; finally no sound was audible except the
rustling of the countless, wind-shaken fern leaves.
He slackened his pace and, after proceeding
about a mile farther, stopped and looked about him.
Huge
tree fems with rough trunks and foliage growing out of the tops like that of
palm trees, some of them over seventy feet in height, towered above the
shorter, more bushy varieties which were themselves giants. Then there were
climbing ferns hanging in tangled masses, creeping ferns, and dwarf,
low-growing kinds, barely raising their fronds above the thick carpet of moss
which everywhere covered the forest floor.
Grandon
noticed that the ground slanted slightly toward his right,
and intuition told him that this might lead to a valley and water. He changed
his course accordingly. He hoped also to find some fruits, berries or nuts with
which to satisfy his hunger.
As
he trudged wearily forward, sunset was succeeded by twilight, and before he
realized it, the black, moonless Zar-ovian night had spread its impenetrable
mantle about him.
Suddenly,
from out the darkness behind him, came a peal of horrible, demoniac laughter.
As
he wheeled, two glowing phosphorescent orbs were slowly advancing as if
something were creeping or slinking toward him. Then, without warning, the
hideous noise was repeated at his left.
He
turned to face another pair of menacing eyes, then leaped for the trunk of the
nearest tree-fern and climbed it barely in time to escape the snapping jaws
that yawned beneath him.
Not
until he had reached the leaf-crown, fifty feet above the ground, did he pause
or look downward. Then he saw, not two, but a dozen pairs of eyes glancing
toward him, while peal after peal of the nerve-racking laughter smote his ears.
Time dragged along. What manner of things
were these? Evidently they were unable to climb, or they would have followed
him ere this. The fact that they did not leave, even after several more hours
had elapsed, made it evident that they expected to get him.
He had been hearing a peculiar crunching
sound some time before he located it and guessed the terrible truth.
They were gnawing through the base of the
tree trunk!
When morning came, it looked as if Grandon's luck was running out. He'd made a desperate leap when
the first tree started to fall and landed on another. The beasts followed and
started to work on his new refuge, He'd found what felt like a coarse thick
rope, and recognized it as the stem of one of the large climbing ferns he'd
seen the day before. That led him to the
crown of another tree twice the size of the one he left. But now the beasts had felled that one and were patiently gnawing at his third
refuge.
Now he could see them below—twelve of the
most fearsome creatures he'd ever seen. They looked like hyenas, but were
twice as large, their bodies covered with thick scales, black and mottled with
orange spots. Each beast had three horns, one projecting from either temple, and one sprouting out between the eyes. Six
of them were gnawing at the base of his tree while the other six rested.
Apparently they Were working in shifts.
Then he saw a man about two hundred yards away, walking with his eyes on the ground as if following a trail. He was armed with scarbo, tork, and knife, and carried a long bundle strapped to
his back. Someone sent out to trail the fugitive slave, no doubt, Grandon
thought. Well, he'd have a surprise soon.
A moment later, one of the beasts scented the newcomer, and uttered' the
laugh with which Grandon was now familiar. All work on Grandon's tree stopped
and the pack charged the stranger.
Now the Earthman witnessed the power of the
tork. The leader of the pack fell a full fifty feet from his quarry; seven more
met a similar fate in as many seconds. The rest turned and fled. Then the man
drew his knife and coolly and deliberately cut the throat of each animal. He
glanced at the two fallen trees, then walked over to
the one in which Grandon was perched.
"Come down, Robert Grandon," he said, in English.
Grandon was so surprised he nearly fell out of the tree.
"Who are you," he asked, "and
where did you leam my language?"
"Come down and I will explain."
"You might come up," suggested
Grandon. "I don't fancy the climate down there. I suppose you have
instructions to bring me back dead or alive. I won't go back alive."
"You
are mistaken, Robert Grandon. I have come to your aid. To prove this, I need
only mention that I have communicated with Dr. Morgan of your planet for
several years. Now will you come?"
Grandon
slid down the rough tree trunk. When he reached the ground, the stranger
advanced. "Permit me to introduce myself. I am Vorn Vangal, and my home is
in the distant country of Olba."
"How
do you do, Mr. Vangal," replied Grandon,
extending his hand.
Vorn Vangal looked puzzled.
"What is it you wish?"
"Why—nothing
at all. I forgot that our custom of shaking hands might be unknown here."
"I
have never heard of it," said Vangal. "I hope you will pardon the
ignorance which kept me from returning your proffered salute. Show me how you
do it, please."
Grandon
explained, and for the first time in the history of that planet, two men shook
hands on Zarovia.
"A
very pretty custom," Vangal said. "I shall introduce it in Olba on my
return. I will explain the various forms of salutes used on Zarovia. When one
is presented to a stranger he merely bows slightly and acknowledges with words.
Two intimate friends on meeting sometimes press their foreheads together. Then
there are the military salutes, the salutes to royalty, et cetera. For
instance, the reigning Tor-rogina of Reabon—or princess as you would call
her—would be saluted thus." He made a low bow and extended his hand as
Grandon had seen the slaves do the day before in front of the shrine.
"In
the company with my fellow slaves, I bowed thus before a picture of a
beautiful young woman yesterday," said Grandon. "Can it be that this
is the Amazon princess of whom Dr. Morgan spoke?"
"She can be none other than Vernia,
Princess of Reabon, who has ruled that country since the death of her father,
Margo, who made Reabon the
largest and mightiest empire in all Zarovia."
"I should like to meet
her," said Crandon.
"To say that you should like to meet her
is equivalent to saying that you should like to die. Thaddor, Prince of Uxpo,
whose body you now inhabit on Zarovia, had the temerity to make love to her.
She sentenced him to work in the quarries for life; and to run away after such
sentence has been passed is equivalent to signing your own death warrant, in
Reabon."
"Nevertheless,
I hope some day to meet her. By the way, friend Vangal, I suspect that you have
food and drink in that long bundle you are carrying, and I have tasted neither
since yesterday morning."
"Can
it be possible?" ejaculated Vangal. "But of course! You are not
familiar with the fern forests of Zarovia. No one carries food or drink in
these forests, for both are about him in abundance."
He
drew his knife and cut a branch from the bush-fern under which they were
standing. "Here. Taste water as pure and delicious as may be found in all
Zarovia."
Grandon
put the end of the branch to his lips and drank greedily, while Vangal gathered
several large spore-pods and split them open with his knife.
"I
shall have to teach you the woodcraft of Zarovia before I leave you,"
said Vangal. "But come, we must go as far as possible from this vicinity
at once, or the soldiers of the Torrogina may find us."
"I
am puzzled to know how it happened that you found me before the
Reabonians," said Grandon.
"Because
I followed your trail, while they merely ran about in the forest, guessing at
what direction you had taken. The men of Reabon know nothing of following a
trail, which is as an open book to my people of Olba. But here, I have brought
you weapons and trappings." Vangal unrolled the long bundle. "Fasten
this belt about your waist and cross the straps over your shoulders, so. Now
let us be off."
The two swung away through the forest glades,
Grandon armed like his companion with tork, scarbo and knife. As they walked
side by side, Vangal explained the use of .the tork, and showed Grandon how to
insert the extra clips of bullets and gas which were in his belt.
"What
do you call those strange creatures that treed me last night, and why did you
cut their throats after you had already dispatched them with bullets?"
inquired Grandon.
"They
are called hahoes, so named because of their peculiar cries, and are mostly
eaters of carrion, although they will seek and bring down fresh meat when
driven to do so by hunger. I cut their throats because .the poison in the tork
bullets paralyzes temporarily, but does not kill. I prefer to use this kind
rather than those bullets which carry deadly poison."
The
sun was high in the heavens when they reached the bank of a small stream. Here
the character of the vegetation changed considerably, for while large
tree-ferns were still in evidence here and there, as well as the smaller
varieties, there were huge fungus growths unlike anything Grandon had
previously encountered. Colossal toadstools, some of which reared their heads
for fifty feet in the air, grew all about in an endless variety of forms and
colors.
"We
are now more than twenty miles from the marble quarries and in an excellent
place for a camp," said Vangal. "I will help you build a shelter and
remain with you for a week to teach you Zarovian woodcraft, and patoa. At the
end of that time I must journey to the other. side of
the planet, in order to assist your friend, Harry Thome."
"What is patoa?"
asked Grandon.
"It
is the universal language of Zarovia," replied Vangal. "While every
nation has its own language, we have, in addition, patoa, which is taught to
the children of every country from infancy. When you have mastered this tongue,
you will have the means of conversing with any intelligent being you may
meet."
The
rest of the day was spent in building Grandon's new abode.
CHAPTER
IV
After
they had eaten on the
following morning, Vom Vangal said: "No doubt you are anxious to know
something about this country, and the person you represent on Zarovia. The
wild, mountainous kingdom of Uxpo, of which these forests are a part, is
situated at the extreme southern limit of the empire of Reabon. Uxpo, together
with seven other kingdoms, was originally conquered by the famous emperor,
Margo, and its fierce, previously unbeaten mountaineer people reduced to
slavery.
"Upon Margo's death, three years ago,
the people of Uxpo entertained high hopes of freedom. They had learned that the
emperor's daughter, Vernia, a mere slip of a girl, had succeeded to the throne;
they revolted and, almost overnight, slew every soldier, officer and agent of
the empire. Then-old king had been executed by Margo at the time of the
invasion, but his elder son, Lugi, was placed on the throne.
"Two days afterward a courier brought
news that the princess Vemia was coming at the head of a hundred thousand
soldiers. Lugi assembled his five thousand mountaineers and went forth. The
army of Uxpo was annihilated, and Lugi was executed for treason. Once more the
fierce Uxponians bowed their necks to the yoke of the conqueror.
"Lugi had a young brother named
Thaddor—your double. This youth was of a mild and gentle disposition, and it
was for this reason, perhaps, that Vemia spared his life and allowed him the
privilege of her court.
"Prince Thaddor, however, fell madly in love with her. He had
always found women susceptible to him; so when
one evening he attempted to make love to her, he
was little prepared for the storm of anger which followed, and his being
condemned to labor in the quarries for life.
"For
some time I had been searching for a man dissatisfied with life on this
planet, to accompany our Prince of Olba on the journey to your world. I heard
of Prince Thaddor's predicament, and experienced little difficulty in
persuading him. When Dr. Morgan reported that you were about to make the
journey I immediately came hither in order to be of assistance to you. On
learning of your escape, I trailed you to the tree in which you had been driven
by the hahoes. The rest you know."
.Vangal
stayed with Grandon for a week, teaching him patoa and woodcraft, and
the use of the tork, and scarbo. On the evening of the seventh day he stated
that the time had arrived for him to return.
"No
doubt you are anxious to be back among your friends," remarked Grandon.
"Is the journey a long oner
"Olba
is on the opposite side of the planet; roughly, about twelve thousand of your
Earth miles from here."
"And you will go all
that distance afoot?"
"Hardly. My airship is concealed in a ravine only a short distance from here. In
one day's time I shall be home. By leaving here in the evening I shall arrive
there in the morning, for it is morning in Olba when it is evening in
Reabon."
"What motive power do you use?"
"Ah,
my friend, I regret that I am not at liberty to divulge that, for Olba is the
only country on the planet in which airships are made or used. The factories
and the secrets of manufacture are the exclusive property of the government,
and have been since the first airship was invented, nearly four centuries ago.
"My
people are not given to conquest. In the airship they have a potent means of
defense from their warlike neighbors. If the Reabonians, for example, knew the
secret, they would long ago have subjugated most of the other Zarovian
nations."
Together the men walked to the ravine where
the airship was concealed. Grandon beheld what looked like a small metal
duck-boat with a curved glass dome over the tiny cockpit. The airship was about
ten feet long and three wide, and without planes, wings, propeller, or rudder.
Vangal
noted the look of surprise on the face of his companion.
"You seem puzzled," he said,
smiling slightly. "It will do no harm for me to explain something of this
craft's general principles, so long as I do not betray the actual secret of
motive power."
"Immediately in front of the glass dome
you will notice a small, round bulge in the deck. Under that bulge is a
delicate mechanism which it is impossible to remove or take apart without
breaking a small vial of acid that will instantly destroy it. This mechanism is
the motive power of the craft, so you can readily see that it would be quite
impossible for an enemy to leam our secret by capturing one of our ships.
"You have heard of telekinesis—the power
with which your terrestrial mediums sometimes cause tables and other ponderable
objects to rise and hang suspended, or move about in the air without physical
aid. My people have been familiar with this wonderful power of the mind for
many centuries; this mechanism responds to, and amplifies telekinesis to a
remarkable degree. By mind power I am able to cause the craft to rise and hang
suspended at almost any altitude, or to move in any direction, backward,
forward, or sidewise. For emergency use, in the event of the failure of the
motive power, there are two parachutes, one under the small round lid at either
end of the craft. By pressing a button I cause the lids to fly back and the
parachutes to project from the holes and open almost instantly."
"A
most astounding and wonderful invention," exclaimed Grandon.
"Perhaps
some day you will visit Olba, and when you do, Vorn Vangal will see that you
are provided with a suitable craft as long as you stay in the country—for none
but a government official or employee may take one of these airships over the
border. It is growing late, and I must begin my journey," Vangal
continued, opening the door in the rear of the dome and stepping inside.
"Farewell, my friend. I admonish you to hurry home at once. I see you have
not brought your tork or scarbo with you. That is unwise. From now on, never
travel without them. On Zarovia you are in constant danger from attack by man
or beast. Farewell, and may you soon be firmly seated
on the throne of Uxpo."
Grandon
warmly clasped the hand of his departing friend, and a feeling of indefinable
sadness came over him as he watched the tiny craft rise noiselessly and
smoothly to a height of perhaps a thousand feet, then dart away, to be lost to
view in a few seconds.
As
he stood looking in the direction Vangal had taken, he was startled by the
sound of a stealthy footfall behind him. He wheeled, but his eyes could not
penetrate the shadows, for night had come on with its characteristic
suddenness. At the sound of a second
footfall he turned and dashed ofi through the forest, only to find himself amid
a group of warriors with leveled torks.
CHAPTER
V
Despite the fact that the audience chamber of the imperial
palace of Reabon was crowded with people, the silence was intense for the
scarlet curtains which surrounded the massive throne had been drawn back,
signifying the approach of the Torrogina.
Those who stood at the lower end of the hall
and farthest from the throne were the slaves, the prevailing color of whose
garments was gray. Next to the slaves stood the common people—tradesmen,
farmers, merchants, mechanics, and the like—attired in blue. Then came the
nobles and their families, who might be recognized anywhere by their purple garments;
and finally members of the royal families of Reabon and her many rogats, who
were privileged to wear scarlet, the universal Zarovian color of royalty, and
to stand next to the throne during audiences.
All eyes were turned toward the door as four
men entered, carrying a great golden palanquin with curtains of scarlet. The
litter-bearers all wore heavy beards, cut off square below the chin. On their
heads were jeweled golden crowns, and their scarlet
garments proclaimed their royal birth. They were kings of four of the sixteen
kingdoms which comprised the empire of Reabon, and were serving their allotted
time in attendance on the Torrogina Vernia, as was required by law.
Behind
the palanquin walked the illustrious Orthad, commander of all the armies of
Reabon, and responsible only to the princess herself. He was armed with tork
and scarbo, and resplendent in his magnificent uniform, which was of purple,
decorated with no inconsiderable quantity of gold fringe, gold braid and
.jewels. On a scarlet cushion held before him he carried the great jeweled
scarbo, scepter of Rea-bonian authority.
A
hundred members of the Imperial Guard marched behind in double file, and
ranged themselves at regular intervals along the wall. Their uniforms were of
an olive green color, decorated with silver in lieu of the gold which adorned
that of their commander.
When
the four palanquin-bearers arrived at the foot of the throne which was reached
by four broad steps, they gently lowered their burden to the floor, and each
stepped forward and lay, face downward, on one of the steps. No sooner had they
taken their places than the scarlet curtains parted, and the beautiful ruler of
the greatest empire in all Zarovia, Vernia, of Reabon, emerged and ascended the
four human steps to the throne.
As she took her seat with quiet dignity,
everyone bowed low
with right hand extended palm downward. She sat there attired in a clinging
garment of scarlet material that left her white arms and shoulders bare, her
jeweled crown resting lightly on her fluffy golden curls.
The first person to seek audience before the throne was a
gayly-uniformed ambassador from the great western empire of Mernerum, laden
with costly presents, and bringing a proposal of marriage, despite the fact
that this same suitor had been refused a score of times before.
When Bonal, her prime minister, advised her
that the ambassador from Mernerum sought audience, Vernia looked a trifle
bored. "Are there not several other ambassadors with presents and similar
messages waiting without?" she asked.
"Yes, your majesty, there are ten in all
from as many empires."
"Send them all in at once. I can say 'No' to all collectively;
otherwise our entire day will be taken up and important business of the empire
will have to be postponed."
The ten ambassadors traversed the length of the hall with much pomp and
ceremony, each followed by a concourse of slaves laden with the most costly
presents a great emperor could procure, and humbly bowed before the throne.
Bonal announced their ten proposals as one. Vemia promptly and courteously
declined, and they sadly took their departure.
Her matrimonial offers disposed of, the
Torrogina listened to the reports of the rulers of her various provinces. Last
on the list came Uxpo, as it was the last kingdom conquered. Though the other
provinces were ruled by princes, this one was under the control of a military
commander; its people had not been completely subjugated. A captain bore
tidings from his commander. He humbly approached the foot of the throne, waited
for permission to speak, then announced: "Prince Thaddor has escaped from
the quarries. He nearly killed two of his guards and ran away into the fern
forest."
Vernia was greatly surprised. That Prince
Thaddor had found courage to escape seemed incredible to her; but that he had
nearly killed two of his guards in the process seemed little short of
miraculous.
"You have sent soldiers after him, I presume."
"Men are scouring the forests and
mountains in search of him, but up to the time of my departure, no trace had
been found. There is another matter of which my commander bids me speak. It
has been prophesied by some unknown soothsayer that a great fighter is coming
from another world to lead Uxpo to victory and independence. This ridiculous
prediction has spread throughout the kingdom, and as a result it is seething
with unrest. The Fighting Traveks of Uxpo make nightly raids on our soldiers,
and even the women and children have grown rebellious."
Vernia frowned slightly. "This mutiny must be put down, once and
for all. Orthad: assemble an army^of ten thousand men at once—I will lead them
in person. Bonal: my palanquin-bearers. Postpone all further hearings until my
return from Uxpo."
A half hour later two men
stood on one of the smaller balconies of the imperial palace in whispered
conversation. One wore the scarlet of royalty, the other the purple of the
nobility and the trappings and insignia of an imperial commander.
The one in scarlet, a youth of twenty,
whispered hoarsely: "Have a care, my worthy Zueppa. I hear quite well, you
know. Are you Sure the four men who are to constitute her
personal bodyguard will not fail us?"
"Their loyalty to your highness, Prince
Destho, is beyond question. If they fail they will die, rather than betray
us."
"They must not fail. After all, the task is not too difficult. They
have only to hide her in the northern mountains for a year—a short year, mind
you—then none will dare to question my title to the throne. And you, my
faithful Zueppa: Second only to myself, you will hold the greatest office in
Zarovia."
"May I not again
remind your highness that there is a much easier and simpler way to attain our
ends?"
"Stop, fooll Do you take
me for an assassin? My ambition is great, but my desire for this woman is greater. You must detain her
for a year; then return her to me unharmed."
Within half an hour of his capture by these
men who called themselves the Fighting Travels, Robert Ellsmore Crandon learned
how quickly a man's status could change in Zarovia. They were impressed by the
fact that he wore the color of royalty and seemed baffled when he identified
himself as Crandon of Earth.
After
a brief consultation amongst themselves, the stranger was given a choice. He
could go his way in peace, or remain with the Fighting Traveks once he
demonstrated his fitness—which meant overcoming whichever of them he chose to
encounter in a duel. Since the alternative would be to face the Venusian beasts
alone and unarmed, Grandon challenged the leader of this band.
The
man was a good fighter, but the art of fencing was unknown here. Once Grandon
adjusted himself to the scarbo, and his opponent's manner of fighting—which was
roughly comparable to scimitar or broadsword technique—a well-directed lunge
stretched the leader of the Fighting Traveks at the Earthman's feet.
Then
came the surprise. The band now greeted Grandon as
their mojak; he had beaten the leader—he was now in command. When his
second-in-command came up for orders, Grandon told him to carry on as before.
The
lieutenant saluted. "Did you say your name was Grandon of Urgg? I cannot
pronounce it."
"Well, you may call me
Grandon of Terra," he suggested.
"Grandon
of Terral" the lieutenant repeated. "We salute
you."
The
men prepared shelter and the evening meal; soon after, all retired. Grandon
drifted off to slumber with difficulty, still marveling at the swift events;
it seemed that he had slept but a moment or two when a deafening din assailed
his ears. All about him men were fighting, cursing, shouting, and groaning.
"What is up?" he
asked the man nearest him.
"It's
the Reabonians," replied the man, stanching the blood from a cut in his
shoulder. "We are surrounded by the soldiers of the princess."
VI
The
instant Crandon
learned they were being attacked by Reabonians, he was on his feet directing
the fighting. First at one point, then another, he momentarily filled a gap
where a man had been cut down. The little circle of Traveks was narrowing
swiftly. They fought bravely, but the odds were in favor of the Reabonians.
The battle cry of the attackers was "For
Vernia, for Vernial"
"For Grandon of Terra!" answered
the Traveks, defiantly. Suddenly a cry came from one of the leaders of the
Reabonians. "Truce!"
Instantly
the fighting ceased. Grandon's men lowered their weapons as the soldiers of
Vernia withdrew a little way.
"Where
is your captain?" shouted the Reabonian commander.
"Here," replied
Grandon.
"I offer you the alternative of
surrender or complete annihilation, Grandon of Terra," said the officer. "Two-thirds of your command he bleeding on the ground.
You can save the others from a like fate by laying down your arms."
"What say you, men?" asked Grandon,
looking around.
"We are Fighting
Traveks!"
A
surge of pride swept over him. If there were only some way—he racked his brain
for a feasible plan. Like a flash there came to his mind a vision of old football days. He
lowered his voice and issued a few swift orders. The men formed a circle once
more, and Crandon shouted defiance to the Reabonian commander.
The fighting had all taken place by the flickering light of the
campfires. Each Travek, as he took up his position, pushed a quantity of loose
moss before him with his feet. The soldiers of the princess were closing in on
them when Crandon issued a sharp command. Simultaneously every fire was
smothered under a heap of moss.
Another command, and
the men had formed a flying wedge with Crandon at the apex. Straight through
the circle of attackers they smashed in compact formation, cutting right and
left. As they ran through the forest lanes they could hear the Reabonians
fighting each other in the darkness.
When they had attained some little distance
from the scene of battle the smoldering fire flared up once more, and they
heard a shout of baffled rage go up from the Tor-rogina's men.
Crandon had lain down to sleep with a command
of sixty-five men. They numbered now but nineteeen, and the lieutenant was missing.
Crandon turned to the man nearest him. "Are there other bands of Fighting
Traveks near by?"
"A number of them rove these woods;' but
as none tarry long in one place we might hope to find them only by accident.
Bordeen, the great commander of all the bands, is encamped with three hundred
men in a valley only twelve miles from here."
"Can you find the place to-night?"
"Unless we run into Reabonians."
"Then lead the way, and let us be off at once."
i
They were halted by a sentry at some distance
from the camp; at a sign from the guide, they were allowed to proceed without
interruption.
The camp consisted of a half dozen circular
huts similar to the one Grandon's men had constructed, surrounding a much larger hut which he took to be the
headquarters of the commander. The guide led him straight to this structure
and, before he realized it, he found himself in the presence of Bordeen.
There
was no light within the inclosure except the flickering rays cast by the
campfires surrounding the camp, and Grandon could only imperfectly discern the
features of Bordeen and those who stood about him.
The
guide saluted with drawn scarbo held pointing at an angle of forty-five
degrees, and the Earthman did likewise.
"Mightiest
of commanders," the Travek said, "if it is your pleasure, our new
captain, Grandon of Terra, will make his report."
"A
new captain!" exclaimed Bordeen. "This is indeed strange. Thelpo was
a mighty fighter. Report, Grandon of Terra."
Grandon modestly described the duel that
followed his chance meeting with the Fighting Traveks,
how they had been surrounded by a large body of Reabon soldiers and all but
annihilated. He expected a reprimand for losing two-thirds of-his command, but
Bordeen commended his generalship in effecting an escape when escape seemed
hopeless.
His report concluded,
he was conducted to the hut where his men were quartered, and was soon asleep
on his mossy couch. The guide, however, remained by order of the commander,
who asked: "What know you of this Grandon of Terra?"
"Nothing he has not told you for
himself, other than that he is from a far-distant country which he calls Terra,
and is a most extraordinary fighter with the scarbo as well as an exceedingly
able commander. No doubt you noticed that he wore the color of royalty."
"Hardly. In this dim light I cannot tell scarlet from any other color. I fear my
eyes are failing me. However, it seemed to me as he stood there, that there was
something strangely familiar about him."
A man at Bordeen's right spoke up. "Was
it not of Prince Thaddor that he reminded you?"
Tes—now that you mention it, he did. Could it
be that cruel treatment has changed our gentle prince into a fighting man? . .
. Bring me a flashlight. There is a mark on Prince Thaddor's foot that few know
of, and it could not be simulated. Should it be he, we must dispatch runners to
gather in all our scattered bands, for then a great feast will be in
order."
The long-suppressed hope in Bordeen's heart
was making him plan before examining the evidence. But when he and the others
emerged from the sleeping Grandon's shelter, there was no doubt in anyone's
mind.
Grandon's awakening on the
following morning, was perhaps as much of a surprise as was the memorable
morning when he first opened his eyes in the quarry-slaves' sleeping quarters.
The rude hut in which he slept had been
draped with curtains of shimmering scarlet cloth, and the interior hung with
wreaths, festoons and shields on which were emblazoned the coat of arms of the
royal house of Uxpo. The men of his command, who had occupied the hut with him,
had been removed to other quarters, and he beheld two who introduced themselves
respectively as. his valet and his armorer.
At first he thought some joke was being perpetrated by the commander, but was assured that this was not the
case. He permitted his hair to be cut after the prevailing fashion of Uxpo, but
when his valet commenced to trim his beard, which was cut off square below the
chin, in accordance with the custom of the' land, he demurred and ordered a
clean shave.
As
the armorer buckled a broad belt about him, from which descended a tork
embossed with silver, and a scarbo whose hilt was gold set with jewels, he
said: "As it is your duty to supply me with weapons, I am going to ask you
to procure a sword for me."
"I will procure it for
your highness if it be humanly possible, but I have
never heard of one. If I might have a description,
perhaps . . ."
"Of course you have never heard of it.
It is a weapon used on another planet. Have your
metal workers fashion for me a weapon
with a hilt like a scarbo, but with a long, straight, two-edged blade, slender and
pliable, and of the strongest tempered steel."
The armorer bowed with hand extended palm
downward, and backed through the doorway.
He had scarcely departed, ere Bordeen
entered, followed by a concourse of Uxponian nobles and officers.
All bowed low before Grandon in the customary salute to royalty.
Accepting their homage
courteously, he permitted himself to be conducted to the head of a huge banquet table on which a sumptuous
feast was spread, amid the ringing cheers of a thousand Fighting Traveks.
Bordeen made the formal speech of welcome, addressing Grandon as Prince
Thaddor. Then the latter arose.
"Comrades," he began, "your
mighty commander has just addressed me as Prince Thaddor. I have
come among you to do the work of your prince, not to assume his name,
for I am not Thaddor, nor is he any longer an inhabitant of this world. While he lives my life on the planet Earth—or
Terra-it shall be my endeavor to lead you to victory. I therefore assume
leadership of your armies, men of Uxpo, not as Prince Thaddor, but as Grandon of Terra."
This speech spread consternation in the ranks of the Fighting Traveks.
As he resumed his seat there was no applause—only an ominous silence. Grandon
resolved to tender his resignation, when Bordeen stood up, flushed with the
fever of inspiration.
"My countrymen, a prophecy has been fulfilled. Some time ago I
learned that a wise man, a prophet and seer from the distant land of Olba, was in this vicinity. In
my extremity and worry I sought him out. This is what he told me:
" 'Go back to your people and tell them to be of
good cheer, for your
royal leader will soon be with you. He will be young and strong, and expert
with the scarbo, but his first request will be for a weapon which he calls a
sword. He will resemble a prince of Uxpo who will have, by that time, journeyed
to another world. Reject him and you will see him no more. Accept him, and he
will lead you to victory.' "
There
was a brief instant of awed silence as Bordeen finished his discourse. Then, as
if by a prearranged signal, a thousand scarbos flashed on high and a thousand
voices thundered: "Long live Grandon of Terra, Prince of Uxpo!"
Ere
the tumult had ceased, the armorer threaded his way through the crowd, holding
before him a scarlet cushion on which reposed a weapon new and strange to all
Zarovians. He deposited it before Grandon, just as the tumult was subsiding.
Grandon drew it from its scabbard and held it
aloft, saying: "This is the sword of which your prophet spoke. I pledge
it with my life to the cause of Uxpo."
Grandon,
exalted as he was, found time to marvel at the clever planning of Vorn
Vangal—or whatever agent of Dr. Morgan's had put across this prophecy. Then a
courier dashed breathlessly into the hall.
"The Reaboniansl" he gasped.
"They are coming, a great army of them, led by the princess herself! We
are hemmed in on three sides!"
By this time more runners were arriving from
different directions, all with descriptions of a mighty army encircling the camp.
Grandon marshalled his men for a retreat
toward the north—the only direction left open to them—urging the utmost speed;
for to have those converging wings meet ahead of them meant almost certain
defeat.
As it was, they were barely in time for a
swift charge between them under a heavy fire of tork bullets which exacted a
heavy toll from their ranks. They were still far from safety, however, for the
Reabonians followed in swift pursuit.
Grandon held council with Bordeen and they
decided to make, for a narrow mountain pass nearly
four miles distant, which led to a valley beyond.
After
a running fight lasting more than two hours, they reached their objective with
their numbers sadly depleted. They had reckoned, however, without the military
genius of Princess Vemia; she had anticipated this move and filled the narrow
pass with armed men.
The
Uxpo troops were in a trap from which escape seemed utterly impossible. The
pass was out of the question, for with even a small body of men defending it,
it was practically invulnerable. On either side of the entrance rose sheer
precipices, which even a monkey-man could not have scaled, while in front of
them there was an army of between eight and nine thousand men.
Grandon
kept to the front ranks, shouting encouragement to his men, and using his sword
to such good advantage that at times the Reabonians fell away from him in sheer
wonder at his prowess.
But
the Traveks were fighting a hopeless battle; already their number was reduced
to less than five hundred. .
At this juncture a force intervened on which
neither of the contestants had counted. Grandon's first inkling of what was to
take place was the sight of a mass of black clouds, apparently hanging midway
between the tree-tops and those fleecy, silver-gray mists which are ever
present in the upper Zarovian atmosphere, and moving swiftly toward them.
He
had expected a storm, but when it burst in all its fury he was ill-prepared for
such a violent demonstration of the power of the elements. The first torrent of
rain was followed by inky darkness, punctuated at intervals by brilliant
flashes of lightning. The thunder roared incessantly, reverberating through
the mountains, and fighting, either by sound or sight, was made exceedingly
difficult.
It was Grandon's opportunity to save what
remained of his little army, and he was not slow to take advantage of it. He
called Bordeen to his side.
"Make haste and divide the command into
small parties of
not more than twenty men each," he said. "In the con-
fusion of the storm, small bodies of men can escape with little
or no fighting, whereas a charge by the entire company
would be sure to be detected and opposed every foot of
the way. Tonight each band must shift for itself; tomorrow
we will reunite. The place of rendezvous will be the base
of those great twin mountains which mark the northernmost
end of this.valley." 1
As
Bordeen hastened away to carry out the plans, his commander once more took his
place in the line of battle, forging steadily ahead.
It
was some time before he discovered that his comrades were no longer with him.
Then a particularly brilliant flash of Hghtning revealed the fact that he was
completely surrounded by enemy soldiers. They saw his plight at the same
instant, and rushed at him in the darkness that followed. Acting on a sudden
thought, he turned swiftly about, and facing in an opposite direction, walked
slowly backward.
The
ruse worked, for the men behind him, believing him to be one of their comrades who
was a little timid about approaching the great
swordsman, surged around and ahead of him. When the last man had passed he
turned once more, and ran for the forest.
What
troubled him most was how \p gauge
his course through the dense, dripping labyrinth that! engulfed
him.
At
this juncture he heard a noise as of a small body of men running ahead of him;
he decided to follow them as swifüy and silently as possible, and make sure
they were not Reabonians before divulging his presence.
As the minutes wore on, he could tell by the
sounds ahead that he was gaining. Suddenly he emerged from the forest and found
himself on a flat, sandy beach. A flash of lightning revealed the fact that he
was not following a body of men, but a huge reptile, a gigantic amphibian with
a monstrous lizardlike body to which was attached a serpentine head and neck of
immense proportions. It was pursuing someone else with an
agility little short of marvelous for so ponderous a body, and had
almost come up with its quarry.
The
victim, who appeared little more than a slender boy, was making frantic efforts
to escape, but it appeared that his doom was inevitable.
Another
Ughtning flash showed the reptile with neck arched and jaws distended, ready to
strike. A cry of mortal terror came to him from the darkness. Grandon
unsheathed his sword.
VII
It
was only because
there came a swift lull in the storm that Grandon was
able to follow the monster to its subterranean cave. The big reptile crouched
with its back toward him as he came upon it, its body half out of the water.
On the floor lay its victim, but the creature
-seemed to be in no hurry. It was nosing its prey," in the manner of a cat
playing with a mouse. Presently, the victim sat up, rubbing his eyes.
Grandon raised the muzzle of his tork above
the water, aimed for the swaying head, and touched the button. At the sound and
impact, the creature turned—and Grandon was dealt a blow from behind that
hurled him into the far corner of the cave.
The
tork bullets were useless; he drew his sword as he dodged about in the cave to
elude snapping jaws and that scaly tail which had floored him before. It seemed
hopeless; his point glanced off the creature's scales as from armor plate.
Cornered,
those jaws open to seize him, he lunged out wildly. The weapon was jerked from
his hand, but no teeth
closed upon him. Then he saw that he had driven his blade through the reptile's
eye and deep into its brain. After a few shudders, it keeled over.
Bracing his foot against the massive head, he
wrenched his sword free, and turned to face the youth who was approaching him.
"Come," he said, "we must get out of here quickly." Another
creature might appear, and Grandon didn't want to trust to luck again.
A dim light emanated from a
point farther back. There was a small hole in the top of the bank,
and Crandon widened it with his sword, enough to let them through.
Outside, the Earthman had a
chance really to observe his companion, who was clad from head to foot in
shining scarlet leather. The head and face were covered by a pointed hood of
the same material; on impulse, Grandon reached forward and pulled back the
concealing headpiece. That was when he gasped in wonder.
For a moment, the golden-haired girl thus revealed met his astonished
gaze; then she regained her poise, with a look of regal hauteur. "Why did
you do that?" she asked icily.
"Frankly, I do not know. If I have
offended, I crave your pardon."
Some of the coldness
departed, but she did not smile. "Then let us be on our way," she
said, adjusting the hood.
He turned and, together, they walked' back
among the
lengthening shadows toward the river's edge. Owing to the
recent cloudburst the current was abnormally swift, carrying
the floating stoim debris past them at express-train speed.
There were great, uprooted trees, detached branches and
leaves of various sizes and kinds, and a number of huge
toadstools. v
As they stood there on the brink the cap of a
great orange-colored toadstool was caught in an eddy and whirled against the
shore. The stem had been broken off completely, and it formed a water-tight
basin about twelve feet in diameter. Grandon leaped forward and hauled it in.
"What are you going to
do with that?" asked the girl.
"If I can cut a
suitable paddle," replied Grandon, "I believe I can make it serve as a boat to convey us across the river, where I have reason to
suspect your friends, as well as mine, are located."
He looked about until he found a strong
branch that suited his purpose, then made a most
serviceable paddle by using the limb for the handle and the base of the broad
leaf for the blade.
"Come,"
said Grandon. "We must start quickly if we would gain the other shore
before dark."
She
stepped aboard, and Grandon pushed off, wading out to where the water was
breast-deep before climbing up beside her in order to clear the eddy which
might again carry the craft shoreward.
The
Earthman had taken many canoe trips, but he' had not considered the difference
in shape between a canoe and the inverted cap of a Zarovian toadstool. Instead
of making the headway he anticipated, he found himself merely going around in a
circle.
It
was some time before he found a way simultaneously to guide and propel his
awkward craft, which he accomplished by standing on the side toward which he
wished to go and scooping the water toward him. They laboriously reached
midstream after about an hour's hard paddling, but in the interim the swift
current had carried them many miles from their starting point. Then, to
Grandon's consternation, the paddle broke.
"I
guess we're in for it now," he said dejectedly. "Fool that I was to
risk your life in this overgrown bowl."
"What of your own life?" she replied. "You are running
no less risk than I." 1
As
she spoke darkness descended, the black, moonless darkness of Venus. Grandon
sat in moody silence, straining his eyes in his effort to penetrate the
surrounding gloom, his ears on the alert for any sound which might indicate the
presence of the dangerous reptilian creatures that inhabited the waters.
Presently a soft hand
sought his, and clung there.
"What is it?" he asked hoarsely,
endeavoring to still the
quiver of emotion that suddenly took possession of his vocal cords.
"I am tired—oh, so tired. And yes,
frightened. To think that I should be
frightened!"
"Here,"
he said, stripping off his cloak and rolling it into a pillow. "I have
been inexcusably thoughtless. Now lie with your head on this pillow, so, and
try to get some sleep. I will keep watch."
He
withdrew a little way and once more sat quietly with senses alert for the
slightest sound or sign of hostile attack. It was some time before her regular
breathing, scarcely audible above the sound of the rushing waters, told him
that she slept.
Toward morning the noises made by the
amphibians ceased, and Grandon grew drowsy. His head nodded forward on his
breast. Suddenly their craft gave a terrific lurch that rolled the girl into
his lap. It was only his clutching the gills of the toadstool with both hands
that kept them from being pitched into the water.
"What
was that?" asked the girl, breathlessly, awake in an instant.
Another lurch followed.
"Hold on and I will
try to find out," he said.
Drawing
his sword, he crept near the edge while the lurching continued. He clung to the
rim with one hand and prodded the water about him with his sword, completely
circling the craft without encountering anything other than the rushing waters.
It was not until a dash of spray struck him in the face and he tasted salt that
he realized the truth. They were on a body of salt water, possibly a large
lake or an ocean. He made his way back to where the girl clung, and related his
discovery.
"The
river on which we were floating," she explained, "empties into the
great Azpok Ocean, the ocean of mysteries, of man-eating monsters and of
terrible storms that destroy the mightiest of ships as easily as the smallest
boats. To navigate the ocean is to court death in many sudden and appalling
forms."
An hour passed before morning dawned. In the
meantime the roughness of the sea had abated a little, making it less difficult
to keep their places. They were' riding long, rolling swells that elevated and
lowered their craft with very little lurching. There was no land in sight.
All
through that long, sultry day and the following night they drifted, without
sighting aught save birds and a few leaping fish. Just before dawn they were
rudely startled by a violent tilting of their craft, followed by a roaring and
swirling of the water about them. Grandon barely had time to seize the girl ere
they were engulfed by a huge wave which capsized the craft and precipitated
them into a seething maelstrom of black water.
Down—down,
they went into the dark depths. The Earthman fought gamely, but as the minutes
passed the violence of the waves increased and he felt his strength waning. He
realized that, barring the intervention of some unforeseen aid, the battle
against death would soon end in defeat.
With
body numbed and hope gone, he suddenly felt the sandy beach below his feet. He
staggered forward, dragging the girl with him, and was knocked flat by a
mighty breaker. Crawling painfully onward, driving his flagging muscles by a
supreme effort of will, he finally collapsed on the dry sand, just beyond reach
of the waves.
When Grandon regained consciousness it was
daylight. His first thought was for the girl who lay
face downward beside him. As he lifted her tenderly in his arms he gave silent
thanks, for she was breathing.
Presently
she opened her eyes and, for a moment, there was a startled expression in them.
"Where are we?" she asked.
"I haven't the slightest idea,"
replied Grandon. "I have
no knowledge of Zarovian geography." —
"A
prince, and you know naught of geography? That is
indeed strange. Do they not teach it in your country?"
"I am fairly well acquainted with the
geography of the planet Earth—Terra—on which I was born, but we of that world
know nothing of the geography of this one because of your cloud-filled
atmosphere."
She
looked up at him in amazement. "But you wear the garments and insignia of
the royal house of Uxpo. Moreover, you very closely resemble a prince of that
house. Who are you?"
"I am Robert Grandon, of Terra."
"Grandon, of Terra? Ah, I recall the name. A Grandon, of Terra, was
recently acclaimed Prince of Uxpo. It was said that he came in fulfillment of a
prophecy from another world. And you are he. Truly the pranks of fortune are
most amazing! Yesterday I made war on you; today I look to you for
protection."
"You made war on me?
May I ask who you are?"
"Can it be that you do not recognize me?
I am Vernia, of Reabon."
It all came to him in a flash. The lifelike
painting in the shrine at the marble quarries . . . "How did you happen to
be wandering alone and unarmed in the fern forest?"
"I
did not set out alone. When I started away from the camp I was accompanied by
my four guards, and was armed with a tork and scarbo. Zueppa sent a messenger
from the front to inform me that your men had broken through our lines and were
headed for the camp. He advised me to leave at once, saying that the guards
would conduct me to a safe place until your army had been overcome. I followed
Zueppa's counsel, but had gone only a short distance when the guards disarmed
me, and informed me that I was their prisoner.
"They
were about to bind my hands when the giant reptile appeared on the scene.
Though traitors, they were brave men, for they stood their ground to do battle
with the monster. He killed the foremost man with a single snap of his jaws. A
second man met a like fate, and I believe he devoured all four of them—although
I am not certain, as I turned and ran through the forest. When the storm came,
I lost my bearings completely. I reached the river's edge where I fainted when I saw those terrible
jaws poised above me. I presume that I should have been devoured then and there
had the reptile not already eaten my guards." "Who is Zueppa?"
"He is one of my officers—a good
commander and strategist."/
"He
may be a good soldier, but he is, unquestionably a liar. My men did not break
through your lines at all until after the storm had struck, and then only in
small scattered groups."
"Then Zueppa was implicated in the plot.
But who could have planned it, and for what purpose?" "That, I am
unable to tell you."
He
looked at her so long and so searchingly that she grew uneasy. "Of what
are you thinking?"
"I was wondering what fate you would
have meted out to me had your men captured me yesterday."
She smiled. "I should
probably have had you beheaded."
"And now . .."
"If we reach Reabon in safety I shall
make you supreme commander over all the armies." ^Why?"
"As
your reward for saving my life."
"I
ask no reward for that, nor could I accept it, much as I appreciate the
honor."
"It
is the second highest in the greatest nation of Zarovia, an office second only
to my own. Why, any king on the globe would be glad to exchange his position
for it."
"I
have been made Prince of Uxpo," replied Grandon, "under my own name
and because of my deeds in behalf of that kingdom. I should rather be the
tiniest twinkling star in the heavens than the most beautiful and brilliant
planet."
"I'm afraid I don't
quite understand."
"Planets shine by reflected light—stars
by virtue of then-own brilliancy. As your general I should merely reflect the
greatness that is yours."
"Perhaps you should
prefer to continue the war."
"Infinitely. But pray, let us hold to our truce. Until we can reach the safety of our own countries we
are allies, you know."
"Rather,
I am your prisoner of war. . . . We talk much and get nowhere," she said
wearily. "I am both hungry and thirsty. Do you not feed your prisoners of
war?"
They
walked inland through barren country to the foot of a lofty perpendicular
cliff. Through a narrow fissure they caught a glimpse of greenery beyond, so
they hurried between the frowning rock walls and at last emerged on level
ground.
They
were on the border of a small inland lake, the water of which was as clear as crystal. Ferns, mosses and fungi grew all about its borders
in luxurious profusion, but what aroused Grandon's interest and curiosity most
was the appearance of the bottom of the lake, which was plainly visible.
It
was covered with hundreds of odd, grotesque growths-upright fluted columns with
thick branches of the same pattern curving * upward from the trunks like the
arms of candelabra. On the tips of the branches were great clusters of
brilliantly-hued fruitlike globes in an endless variety of form and color. The
effect of the entire lake bottom was like that of a thousand rainbows fused
into one.
A look of terror came into
the eyes of the girl.
"Now
I know only too well where we are," she said. "This must be one of
the submarine gardens of the terrible flying grampites. I have heard some of
our hardiest mariners tell of these gardens and the horrible creatures who guard them."
"Let us eat and drink, first, then talk
of the grampites afterward," said Grandon. "They may be dangerous
creatures, but they will have to go some to outclass that reptile."
A clear, cold spring, bubbling from the rock
wall satisfied their thirst, after which Grandon cut some spore-pods from a
nearby fern and split them with his knife. They were in prime condition, and
made a most pleasing meal for the famished wayfarers.
"It must be," Grandon remarked,
"that these underwater fruits are especially delectable morsels, if men
risk their lives for them."
"They
are, and of a flavor that excels anything else that grows on Zarovia."
"I will gather some for you," said
Grandon, removing his heavy trappings. "They should be easily
plucked."
"No,
no!" she cried. "Please don't go. You may be seen and killed by the
grampites."
He
laughed at her fears, and stripped down to his loincloth. Then, taking his
long knife between his teeth, he plunged into the clear water. Swimming from
cluster to cluster he found one that suited his fancy, and cut the thick stem.
As
he did so, he saw a black shadow move swiftly across the surface of the lake
above him. It puzzled him not a little, for he had seen no living creature
other than his companion when he entered the water. He reached the surface with
a few powerful strokes, and made for the point where he had left the girl, but
the spot was deserted.
Vernia
had disappeared as completely and mysteriously as if the earth had opened and
swallowed her.
CHAPTER
VIII
Cursing the foolhardiness that led him to leave the girl
unguarded, Grandon hurled the fatal cluster of fruit far out into the lake. He
found his clothing and weapons intact and dressed rapidly. He had no sooner
buckled on his sword and tork than a creature that surpassed in hideous-ness
anything he had ever seen, swooped down on him. Elevating the muzzle of his
tork, he sent a stream of bullets at his assailant, and had the satisfaction of
seeing it fall to the ground, where it fluttered feebly for a moment, then lay still.
He examined it minutely and shuddered as he
thought of the beautiful Vemia in the clutches of so loathsome a thing. The
specimen he had brought down was about eight feet long from head to toe, and
covered with a soft, mouse-colored fur.
Its
head was shaped like that of a gorilla, but the ears were set high and were
pointed like those of a fox. The nose was nothing more than- a pair of flat,
broad nostrils, set almost on a level with the eyes, and the mouth at the apex
of the projecting muzzle resembled the mouth of a leech, being merely a round,
puckered hole, whose sucker lips were furnished with tiny, razor-sharp
protuberances.
The arms were fully as long as the body, and
formed the framework for the membranous wings, the web of which stretched to the
center of the back above and the rear of the legs below, ending just above the
heels. The trunk and lower limbs were shaped much like those of a man, the feet
being most manlike in form, except that the five toes on each foot were armed
with strong, up-curling claws.
Drawing his knife, he bent to cut the furry
throat. Then something landed on his back with considerable force, two long,
bony arms wound tightly about him, and he felt a sharp pain at the back of his
neck as a sucker mouth gripped and lacerated his flesh.
He
could not, in this position, use his sword or tork, but he gripped his knife
firmly and plunged it again and again into the thing on his back, though with
no apparent effect, for it hung on like the fabled old man of the sea. vAt last he found a vital spot, and the iron grip of the
arms relaxed. As the creature fell away from him the lips tore loose with a
pop like that of a champagne cork.
For
a moment he imagined the attack was over, but five of the monsters now came
hurtling at him from all directions. He fired his tork as they approached, and
one fell in the lake, where it floated, looking at a distance much like an old, broken umbrella. The foremost grampite did not
alight on him as the other had done; it swooped straight toward him, head on,
then rose slightly and raked him with its sharp upcurved claws.
His shoulder was bleeding profusely from the
onslaught when the second attacker arrived, but this time Grandon was prepared.
Leaping lightly to one side he plunged his sword into the furry body. The last
two, wheeled and joined the leader, now circling high above Grandon. Evidently
they decided to go for reenforcements, for they turned suddenly and flew
straight across the lake in the direction from which they had come.
Grandon
marked their course, and noted that they flew straight toward a distant
mountain peak from which a wisp of smoke lazily ascended. If Vemia had been
carried off by grampites, this was the direction in which they must have taken
her.
He
walked around the rim of the lake, cut through the surrounding tree ferns and
emerged on a broad, rolling plain that was covered with a carpet of resilient
moss. Several hours were consumed in crossing the plain, then
he came to another fern forest.
A
short walk brought him abruptly to the edge of a small, crystalline lake,
similar to the one he had just left. Instantly he leaped back in the shadow of
the trees, for the place was literally alive with grampites. They were
apparently engaged in harvesting the underwater fruit, and he watched the
process with interest.
Skirting the lake with great care, he again
pressed forward toward his smoking guide post. He dodged and circled several
more grampite-infested lakes. Then he came to a chain of low-lying, rocky hills
that were without vegetation of any kind.
As
he clambered over the jagged rocks, he noted a pungent odor in the air like
that of sulphur, or perhaps some sulphurous compound. The atmosphere grew
warmer and warmer until the heat was almost unbearable, and the acrid odor
stung his nostrils and smarted his lungs. The rocks
over which he scrambled now took on a uniform greenish-yellow hue.
Several
times Grandon had wondered why these flying monsters had not been exterminated
by the soldiers of the princess. He learned the reason as he brought up at the
edge of a body of boiling water more than half a mile in width, and stretching
in a broad, sweeping curve to his right and left. From this caldron rose
greenish-yellow vapor, which would have asphyxiated anyone attempting to cross
in a boat.
The
huge mountain was in plain view now, its peak less than a mile away. Myraids of
grampites swarmed about the summit.
Some
of the incoming messengers were laden with fruit, others with the bodies of
animals; and one, which flew over Grandon's head, carried the limp form of a
sailor, its talons hooked through his belt. Grandon aimed his tork and was
about to press the button, when the thought came that perhaps the man still
lived, and a shot would precipitate both victim and captor into the bubbling,
hissing sulphur lake.
As
it was evident that he could not possibly cross the fuming barrier before him,
he decided to follow the margin in the hope that he might find some means of
ingress. Accordingly, he turned to the right, keeping just out of reach of the
deadly vapors, and traveled as swiftly as the rugged character of the rocky
formation would permit.
He had
covered a distance of more than six miles before he brought up at the point
from which he had started. The mountain was completely surrounded by boiling,
fuming sulphurous waterl
Disheartened
by his discovery, and at the point of exhaustion, Grandon sat down on a
boulder to plan his next move. Obviously he could not hope to rescue the girl
now. No doubt she was already dead, or would be, soon.
No, he could not save her,
but he would die avenging her.
As
he rose to carry out his purpose, his attention was attracted by an airship,
similar in shape to Vorn Vangal's, but considerably larger, flying low over the
rocky hills. While he watched, it made a landing less than a quarter of a mile
from him, and two men stepped from the cab. Without a moment's hesitation,
Grandon ran toward them.
One
of the men raised a cylindrical object to his eyes, evidently a telescope, and
pointed it toward the mountain. He gazed for some time, then
handed it to his companion. Both were so engrossed by the strange sight before
them that they did not see two menacing forms swooping down on them from
behind.
Grandon
saw, and shouted a warning, but too late. The curved talons hooked their quarry
with unerring precision, and both men were carried struggling, out over'the
boiling water.
The man with the telescope turned and beat
his assailant with the instrument, gripping the furry belly with one hand as he
swung his weapon with the other.- Apparently he succeeded in
breaking a wing, for captor and captive plunged to death a moment later. The
other Olban, still struggling, was carried out of sight.
Saddened
and infuriated, Grandon walked to the airship. Just as he reached the side of
the craft, darkness descended.
Grandon
groped his way to the Olban airship in the pitchy darkness. While it was yet
light, he had noticed that the side door of the domelike cab stood open. A
brilliant flash from the volcano, reflected by the clouds, the boiling water,
and the crystal dome, showed him his objective. He entered the cab and closed
the door.
Moving
his hands carefully about the interior, he felt two cushioned seats and a
number of handles, levers and buttons. At random, he pressed a small button,
whereupon a tiny light cast its radiance down on him from the top of the dome.
For
a moment he was bewildered by the imposing array of levers, handles and
buttons. Then, to his delight, he saw that each was marked in the simple
phonetic characters of the universal language which had been taught him by Vorn
Vangal.
He seized a lever marked "Cab
Control" and moved it to the left. Immediately the cab revolved to the
right, sliding smoothly and noiselessly. He pressed downward on the lever and
the cab slanted backward. Being in the form of a perfect sphere it could not
only be turned from side to side, but could be tilted forward or backward in
its socket. Upon his straightening the lever, the cab resumed its original
position.
The advantage of such an arrangement was
obvious. From the front of the craft, to right and left, projected two guns
labeled "Mattork." The mattorks were weapons similar in construction
to torks, but much larger, and firing projectiles of far heavier caliber.
Another projected through the keel. By a touch of the cab control lever these
mattorks could be trained on an enemy in any position.
Grandon
loaded one mattork with explosive metal bullets and the other with deadly glass
bullets; the keel-mattork was already loaded with explosive metal bullets. What
a battle he would give the accursed grampites in the morning!
Constant
thoughts of Vernia dominated his mind. His reason told him that she must be
dead, but despite this, hope persisted.
As
he hoped, he wished intensely—earnestly. Then suddenly his wish bore fruit,
for the airship began slowly to rise from the ground.
He
had once listened, with scant attention, to a lecture by a noted
para-psychologist. He recalled dimly the assertion that every living human
being is endowed at birth with all the power of telekinesis after a fashion,
but needed practice to develop and perfect it. Before making for the mountain
he sailed about in the air for a considerable time, practicing the turning,
elevating, and lowering of his craft by purely mental control. At length,
feeling that he was master of the airship, he made for the mountain peak.
Very cautiously he made a landing on the
outer rim of the crater, then crept to the top to
reconnnoiter. As he peerde over the brink, it was as if the most terrible
dreams of Milton and Dante had been fused into one to form the fearful reality
before him. There in the blood-red glow of the molten lava swarmed thousands of
the demoniac inhabitants of this planetary inferno, croaking hoarsely to each
other as they moved about on the ledges or fluttered from place to place.
Mingled in the bedlam of sounds that came up to him, were
the bleating and cries of countless animals in the pits.
Directly
beneath him, a huge grampite emerged from a cave and heaved a human body far
out into the fiery lake. Grandon recognized the uniform of the Olban officer who had been captured at the side of the airship, a few hours before.
Grandon
walked stealthily around the edge of the pit, hoping to find some path by which
he might make his way, unnoticed, to the ledges beneath. He had gone perhaps a
third of the way around the mountain top when he heard a scream of terror. It
was the voice of Vernia.
Startled
to instant action, Grandon scrambled and slid precipitately down to the top
ledge, leaped the ten feet to the second and a like distance to the
third," and ran directly to the pit from which the sounds emanated. Twelve
feet down he saw Vernia struggling with her captor, while two terrified little
animals hugged the wall. In an instant he was at her side. A stroke of his
blade severed the arm that gripped her; another sent the head of the monster
rolling.
"Come," he said,
"we must get out of here at once."
"But
how?" she asked. "The walls are as smooth as glass. I'm afraid escape
from this pit is impossible. If we could fly . . ."
Her
words were cut short by an onslaught from above. Grandon had been seen and a
general alarm had been sounded.
With
his back to the wall and the girl crouching at his side, Grandon fought
desperately with sword and knife. The pile of carcasses before him grew breast
high before he realized that they were likely to be smothered beneath them.
Calling to the girl to follow, he leaped atop the pile, and fought from that position. After that he
constantly shifted from side to side, while the pit continued to fill with
slain assailants, who came on in increasing numbers.
Torn
and bleeding from many wounds, he at length stood with head and shoulders above
the edge of the pit. This left him open to attack from the rear, and forced him
to adopt new tactics. Bringing his tork into play, he sent a spray of bullets
about him in a circle, temporarily demoralizing the attackers. The slight
respite gave him time to assist Vernia from the pit, and together they ran into
the cave.
They
found a narrow passageway at the back of the cave, and groped their way in the
blackness for some distance before they came to another narrow gallery crossing
it at right angles. Soon they were in a veritable labyrinth of caves and
galleries, leading farther into the mountain.
They had wandered for more than an hour in
the subterranean maze when a narrow-lighted opening appeared ahead. Very
cautiously Grandon led the way toward this opening, hoping it would offer an
avenue of escape. When they were within a short distance of it, he went ahead
alone to reconnoiter. A moment later he returned, enjoining the utmost silence
to his companion, and together they tiptoed forward.
They were at the rear door of a catfe similar
to the one through which they had entered the mountain, but considerably
larger. Within was a grampite family in repose. There were twelve individuals
in the family group, the huge male, his mate, six tiny specimens on which the
down had just begun to appear, and four about half grown, all hanging upside
down by their sharp, curved toenails, which were hooked in crevices in the
wall. The father of the family hung near the cave mouth, the mother depended
from one side with the six "members of her latest litter beside her, and
the half grown offsprings occupied positions on the opposite wall.
"Come," he whispered. "I
believe we can get out without
disturbing them. If they waken I will use the tork." j
Very quietly, they made their way toward the
cave mouth. When they reached the center of the floor the male grampite stirred
uneasily, and Grandon held his weapon in readiness, but the creature merely
stretched one wing a bit, then folded it and resumed his slumber. A moment
later they stood on the topmost ledge with fifteen feet of steep crater wall to
negotiate before they could reach the rim.
They
succeeded in clambering to the top, unobserved, and to his inestimable relief,
Grandon sighted the glistening dome of the Olban airship only a hundred yards
from where they emerged.
Vemia's
eyes were wide with amazement as he opened the door of the cab and seated her
on the cushions. ,"An Olban airship!" she gasped. "Where did you
get it? Why, I thought only trained Olban officers could run them."
While
she spoke, they were mounting high in the air. She turned and looked him
squarely in the eyes. "Grandon of Terra, have you deceived me? Are you of
Olba?"
He
related how he had acquired the airship, and she shuddered as he told of the
death of the two officers who had brought it thither.
"As
for deceiving you, my princess," he concluded, "I should sooner tear
out my right eye."
She
laid her hand gently on his arm. "It makes me very happy to hear you say
that."
He
thrilled at her touch and words, but did not turn his head. The craft was now
poised far above the glowing crater.
"What are you going to do?" she
asked.
"I'm
going to teach those devils a lesson," he replied. "The ship of the
two men they murdered will now wreak vengeance on them."
They descended swiftly until the airship was
on a level with die topmost ledge. Grandon pulled the cab control lever, until
both mattorks were trained over the side, then circled the crater and poured a
deadly fusillade among the bewildered grampites. Soon the air was black with
the creatures, dozens of whom attacked the craft, but
without success.
A number of them swarmed on the deck and endeavored to get at the inmates of
the cab. "Give me your tork," said Vernia.
He
unbuckled his belt and handed her the weapon. She opened the door a little way
and soon cleared the deck of enemies. Then, while Grandon raked ledge after
ledge, she shot down those of the flying attackers who came within range. Most
of them fell into the fiery lake, and soon the air was filled with the stench
of scorched flesh and hair.
For
more than an hour they circled the crater, at the end of which time not a
living grampite was in sight. The ledges were strewn with carcasses, and the
lake of lava was sending up black clouds of smoke as it consumed those brought
down by the tork. Grandon estimated that at least two-thirds of the population
of that crater had been exterminated; the others had been driven to cover.
The avenging craft again rose high above the mountain.
"Now
to return you to Reabon," said Grandon. "Can you tell me which way it
lies from here?"
"As
I recall it, this place lies across the Azpok Ocean, directly south of Reabon.
If you will steer due north, we should be able to arrive on ground that will be
familiar to me, and we can then easily make our way to the capital."
Grandon
examined the Olban compass, which hung suspended by a tiny wire in the front
of the cab. "I presume that, as in my own world, the compass always points
toward the north."
"It
should," replied Vemia, "unless deflected by some counter magnetic
attraction." —
Grandon
set his course accordingly, traveling swiftly at a height of approximately two
thousand feet.
The
ship was amply stored with provisions and water, and they ate their first food
in nearly twenty-four hours while hurtling through space at a terrific rate of
speed.
"Try
to go to sleep now," said Grandon. "In a few hours you will be safely
home, and I will return to my faithful mountaineers. Then we can continue our
war."
"What if I should not
choose to move against Uxpo?"
"You would save the useless waste of
thousands of human lives, and therefore place me eternally in your debt."
"You
have already put me under an obligation to you for which my entire empire would
not be sufficient recompense. Since you will not accept the second highest
office in Zarovia, I have decided to free Uxpo. We shall be neighbors and, I
hope, friends."
"In
the name of the people of Uxpo I thank you for your generous decision, and ..."
He
was interrupted by a series of rude shocks and a rending crash as they came to
a complete standstill. Both were thrown violently against the front of the cab.
Grandon struck his head on the butt of a mattork and lost consciousness.
Vernia was more fortunate, as she fell feet foremost, although her ankle
received a bad wrench.
When
she saw Grandon's face, pale as death, and the blood flowing from an ugly cut
on his forehead, she flung herself down beside him and took his head on her
lap. To her relief, she heard the beating of his heart when she placed her ear
to his breast. Opening one of the provision drawers, she extracted a flask of
water and bathed his face.
Presendy he opened his
eyes.
"What happened?"
he asked. "What struck us?"
"I
do not know," she replied. "Lie quietly while I dress your wound.
Then we will investigate."
CHAPTER IX
Gbandon
protested that
the jagged wound in his forehead was a mere scratch, but Vernia insisted on
binding it for him, and did so with adroitness.
When she had finished, he rose dizzily and
opened the door of the cab. A pungent odor assailed their nostrils, an odor
similar to that produced by pouring sulphuric acid on copper.
He
switched on the forward searchlight, which revealed the shattered front of
their craft jammed against an enormous tree-trunk.
The keel rested in a forked branch, which kept them from falling. A thin column
of vapor curled upward from the shattered hull, emitting the stifling odor
that had greeted them when he opened the door.
"I
guess we are done with flying," said Grandon, eyeing the wreck askance.
"At least, we will fly no more with this airship."
"Is it so badly
broken?"
"The power mechanism is destroyed. An
Olban once told me that a phial of acid" was placed within each mechanism
in such a fashion that it would instantly destroy it if tampered with.
Evidently the shock of our encounter with the tree trunk broke the phial, for
the fumes are unmistakably those of acid on metal."
Grandon
flashed the searchlight about them in an effort to ascertain where they were,
but above, below and around them on every side they could see only branches and
leaves. And such leaves! They were
spatulate in shape, and a dark glossy green in color, varying between fifteen
and twenty feet in length; while the stems Were from eight to twelve inches thick. Each twig would have made a good
sized fern tree, while the trunk against which their craft had jammed was a
full fifty feet in thickness.
"Not
much use to do any exploring before morning, I guess," said Grandon.
"This is a giant of a tree. In what part of Reabon do these trees grow,
and what do you call them?"
"There
are no trees like this in Reabon," replied Vernia, "nor was I aware
that there were such trees anywhere on Zarovia. Are you positive that we have
been traveling due north?"
Grandon glanced at the compass.
"Strange," he said. "Just a moment before we struck, the needle
pointed in the direction in which we were traveling. Now it points at right
angles to the keel. Something must have been broken by the grampites. I'm
afraid we'll have to wait until the sun rises to get our bearings." ,
"We
can at least be positive of two things. That we are not in Reabon, and that we
are in some unexplored part of Zarovia."
At
dawn, Crandon made his way down the tree trunk, clinging to the rough, curling
bark with fingers and toes. It was a long, perilous descent, a matter of at
least a thousand feet, and he guessed half an hour must have elapsed before he
stood on the ground.
The
forest giant under which he stood was more than a hundred feet in diameter at
the base. All about him, as far as he could see, were many more like it. He
noticed that all of the trees were connected by broad surface roots, and this
fact, together with the total absence of spores or seeds, apprised him
of the reason why these trees were, in all probability, confined to a single
locality.
They
must have begun and evolved on this part of the planet without developing other
means of propagation than that of sending out surface roots to form new plants
at some distance from the parent trees. Consequendy their spread would be
regulated, not only by the number of new trees they could produce in this
manner, but by the character of the surrounding country as well, for any
barrier such as a body of water or a stretch of barren, rocky land would
effectually check their progress.
Marking
his trail by slashing trees or surface roots With his
knife as he passed along, Grandon started his journey of exploration. He felt
like a pygmy, as he walked beneath those mighty spires of wood, treading
matted, molding leaves that were nearly as long as the airship, and climbing
over surface roots so thick that often he could not see over them. After he had
traveled thus for more than half an hour he saw a number of tall, conical
mounds ahead of him, and judged from the regularity of their construction, that
they housed human beings. As he approached more closely he observed that they
were all dotted here and there with round holes about four feet in diameter.
He
arrived within fifty feet of the nearest mound without noting any signs of
animate life, and, concluding that it must be deserted, stepped boldly forward.
Then, without the slightest hint of warning, something darted out suddenly and
fan toward him on its six horny legs with incredible swiftness.
The
creature was about the size of a small Shetland pony, with eyes as big as
dinner plates set in a head more than two feet across and surmounted by two
long, jointed antennae, its jaws armed with sharp mandibles and a pair of
forceps large enough to encircle two men. The entire body was covered with
glistening ivory-white armor. It came at him with forceps outspread.
In a moment, Grandon found that his tork had
no effect; a moment later, he found his sword equally useless. The forceps
encircled him, and he was dragged into the dark hole.
Vemia stepped out of the airship and climbed
the projecting bark of the tree; it had been over two hours since Grandon left, and she was worried. Fronj. a height of several hundred feet above the airship, she
peered through the thick curtain of leaves and saw that this tree stood in a
narrow valley. The encircling mountains were bare, but the valley itself was
filled with giant trees.
She looked down to see a white, six-legged
monster scuttling up the trunk, carrying a smaller, bright green creature in
its forceps. It turned out on a limb just below her, to deposit its burden on
one of the large leaves.
The green thing had six legs, but its plump
body was oval-shaped, with the head set at the narrow end and two sharp horns
protruding just above the posterior extremity. As soon as it was put down, it
uncoiled a long, slender sucking tube which it inserted in the leaf.
Vernia was both mystified and frightened. She
flattened out on the limb, and peered cautiously over the edge.
To
her infinite terror she saw many more mounting the tree and depositing their
burdens here and there until it literally swarmed with the white things and
their green charges. Glancing across to the next tree, she saw that it was
similarly infested, and shuddered at the thought that the monsters might soon
climb to where she was concealed.
Then,
she saw a number of naked, hairy men ascending the tree. Each man carried a
sack slung over his shoulder and fastened in place by a strap. She noticed that
there appeared to be no animosity between the men and the monsters, and
concluded that the great antlike creatures must have been domesticated by these
cavemen.
Her
supposition was strengthened by the sight of one of the men obtaining a white,
sticky substance from one of the green things, with the aid of a white one,
which titillated the posterior horns of its smaller green charge, causing it
to exude the material into the sack which the man carried. All the other men
were engaged in the same task, going from leaf to leaf until their sacks were
filled, then carrying them down the tree.
A
man who moved more slowly than his fellows was nipped sharply by one of the
white creatures. He gave a cry of pain and hurried his steps. Then it dawned on
her that the men were the slaves and the monsters their masters!
She
was reflecting on this paradox when one of the white things, which had mounted
on the opposite side of the tree unobserved by her, took a notion to carry its
green charge out on the limb she occupied. She rose hurriedly and ran toward
the swaying tip, but the creature deposited its burden on a leaf and darted
after her with amazing speed. She had only gone a few steps when the powerful
forceps encircled her.
Her captor appeared able to travel on the
rough tree trunk upside down or right side up with equal facility, and carried
her down to the ground at a terrific rate of speed. When it reached the ground
it made off under the giant trees, climbing over the thick surface roots with great ease, and at
length brought up at the entrance of a conical dwelling about a hundred feet in
height.
It
paused there for a moment, touched its antennae to those of a similar creature
which appeared to be guarding the doorway, then carried her through a maze of
dark runways to a dimly-lighted underground chamber. It laid her on the floor
at the feet of an individual, apparentiy of the same species. This new monster
had a white body and similar brown forceps and mandibles, and, in addition, a
large pair of transparent wings. Its abdomen was distended to more than ten
times the size of that of her captor.
Vernia
rose to her feet and faced the thing before her, expecting to be seized and
devoured. It looked at her searchingly for a moment, then
vibrated its antennae noiselessly. Another white creature, similar to her
captor in shape, but smaller, and lacking the huge forceps, appeared as if in
answer to a summons.
Each vibrated its antennae in turn, then the newcomer pushed Vernia toward one of the runways.
She could not mistake the meaning of this movement. Stooping ts avoid the low ceiling, she entered and walked forward in the darkness.
When she had traveled a short distance her conductor pushed her into a
cross-runway that ended in a large, round chamber with a domelike roof.'
This
room was lighted by a great central opening, and contained more than a hundred
girls and women, who were busily engaged in separating round white balls about
an inch in diameter, which cohered in glutinous masses, and placing them in
small holes that honeycombed the walls on all sides.
Her
guide turned her over to a woman who seemed to be a sort of superintendent or
overseer, and departed.
The
woman looked at her curiously and, to her surprise, addressed her in patoa.
"Who are you, girl, and "how came you herel"
"I
am Vemia of Reabon, and was just now captured by one of those fierce white
creatures with the huge forceps."
"You were captured by a soldier sabit,
but it is evident that you are from some distant part of the world, for here
people do not go about wrapped in brightly colored skins, such as you
wear."
Judging from those representatives of the
human race which she had seen so far in the valley, Vernia could well believe
this statement, for neither, the men she had seen in the
tree nor the women who now surrounded her were clothed. The women, like the
men, were quite hairy; they were also big-boned, low-browed and
coarse-featured.
"I
presume my country is far from here," Vernia said, "for I
have never heard either of trees or creatures such as you have in this
locality, although I know all that is known by our people about Zarovian
geography. I have not the slightest idea where I am."
'You
are in the Valley of the Sabits, which is in the center of the great salt
marshes where my people live. When but a young girl I was captured by a slaving
party and brought hither, even as you were captured and brought just now, to
spend the rest of your life serving the masters of men. Enough of this talk for the present. There are no idlers here, and you must
work with the others. Here, Rotha," calling a young girl who toiled near
by, "a new slave who calls herself Vernia of Reabon. Acquaint her with the
nature of our work."
The girl flashed a friendly smile at Vernia,
and showed her how to separate the white balls, which she explained were sabit
eggs, and stow them in their cells. She was much better-looking than those
around her, appearing more like the women of the civilized races.
Vemia
shuddered at the feel of the sticky, plasmic mass of eggs that was handed her,
but nevertheless went to work with a will, and soon became nearly as adept as
those about her.
Rotha was communicative, and talked
incessantly as she worked. She had been born in captivity, so knew of the ways
of her ancestors, the marsh people, only through the hps of others. She was,
however, the granddaughter of a soldier of Memerum who had married a marsh woman, which accounted for
her superior intelligence and beauty.
The sabits, she said, were divided into many
communities, and the inhabitants of any given community might be recognized by
their markings. Those of their own community were known by their brown forceps
and mandibles, there were others with black forceps and mandibles, others with
green, red, et cetera. The largest and greatest community of all was that of the sabits who were pure white.
In each community there were four kinds of
individuals. The greatest and most powerful was the single queen sabit, or
female ruler, who had ordered Vernia sent hither. She was winged, and, when
fertile, swelled to many times the size of the others.
Next to her in importance
was the king sabit, her mate. He was the only male permitted to live in the
community, and was winged like the queen, but much smaller. The other two kinds
were known as the workers and soldierSi The former
were comparatively diminutive in size and inefficient in battle, while the
soldier sabits were large, -powerful, and armed with huge forceps. Both
workers and soldiers were wingless and sexless.
The queen sabit did little
else than eat, sleep and lay thousands of these white, sticky eggs. Her mate
was active in administering the affairs of the community, subject always to
her approval and consent.
"But why is it,"
asked Vernia, "that these men submit to the domination of creatures of a
lower order? Why, my soldiers kill and drive off creatures a thousand times
more terrible than these."
"They may be more terrible
physically," said Rotha, "but mentally the sabits are superior to all
other beasts. True, they all think in the same way, along the same lines, and
all the sabits will react to any situation in the same way, but this only makes
them the more formidable, for they thus act in perfect unison in case of
emergencies. A sabit community may be likened to a single
animal, with the queen as the head, directing all operations, the king as the
eyes looking here and there and everywhere to see that the directions are
properly carried out, and the soldiers and workers, as the arms and legs,
supplying every want of the body and protecting it from all dangers."
"But, even so, may not men, with torks, scarbos, spears and knives,
slay them as easily as they do the great beasts?"
"I know nothing of the weapons you call torks, nor have I ever heard that the marsh people use
them. Spears, scarbos, knives and clubs they have, but these avail them little
against the armored sabits. I have heard that a very powerful man may subdue a
sabit by striking him between the eyes with a heavy club, but this is a most
difficult feat, as they move with exceeding swiftness, and blows on any other
spot are to no effect. It is said that these creatures have three brains, one
in the head, one in the thorax and one in the abdomen, so that even if one is
destroyed the other two may function for days afterward."'
"Then, in order to kill one sabit a
warrrior must virtually kill three! But tell me now of yourself, and of the
marsh people."
"About myself . .
Rotha began, then checked her speech to stare at an
approaching procession of worker sabits. "It is time for eating."
The sabits carried pouches
from which they distributed a sticky mixture composed of a white, mucilaginous
substance in which small edible fungi had been stirred. The girls and women
instantly ceased work at their approach, and eagerly devoured their portions of
the proffered food. Although Vemia was exceedingly hungry, she could not bring
herself to touch the sticky mess, but divided it among those about her.
When they had finished,
Rotha said: "I must leave you now, Vernia of Reabon, for tonight is my
mating night, and there comes the soldier sabit who will take me away. Tomorrow
night I will be with you, and from then on for some time, but for a full day and
a night I will be absent."
"What mean you by the mating night, and
why, if you are to be mated, will you be absent for but one night?"
Rotha sighed. "It is the custom
here," she replied. "In this valley men and women who are mated do
not live together as in the outer world, nor have they even the privilege of
choosing their own mates."
"You mean that they are mated against
their wishes?"
"In
this valley it is useless to wish. There is no law but the will of our masters, and it is their purpose to produce a stronger and
more beautiful race of slaves. Having just come of age, I have been selected to
do my part."
"But
you know naught of love here? Do you willingly submit to the treatment usually
accorded domestic animals?"
"Speak not of love, Vemia of Reabon, for
Oro the Mighty is large and strong and beautiful—oh, so beautiful, my
Vernia—and excels the others in all things. But I know it will not—it cannot be
Oro, as the king sabit will not choose him for the mating pens. A slight
blemish, a birthmark on his left shoulder, disqualifies him. Because of his
great strength, however, he has" been chosen chief keeper, or guard, of
the pens, to maintain peace among the others and see that things are conducted
in an orderly fashion. Oro, my beloved, will perhaps be the one to receive me
at the gate, the one to take me to that awful room; but even he, with all his
mighty strength, will be unable to save me . .
CHAPTER X
Grandon
fought unavailingly with his
sword as he was dragged into the dark burrow. He found a crevice in the armor
of his captor, whereupon it stopped and shook him until his head reeled and the
weapon dropped from his hand. Then the sabit carried him to the great central
room, in
which were the king and queen sabits of the. white community.
As
soon as he was dropped to the floor, the king sabit leaped on him and, cutting
his belt with sharp mandibles, removed his tork and knife. Grandon sat up
weakly.
After
looking at him fixedly for some time the queen sabit summoned two workers by
vibrating her antennae, and he was conducted through a series of runways and
tunnels to a great, light chamber, where hundreds of naked, hairy men were
engaged in the task of receiving sacks filled with a sticky white mixture from
men who brought them to the doorway. They then fed the contents to thousands of
fat, white, grublike creatures that varied in size from two to eight feet in
length. He saw one of the larger grubs near him bite a mouthful of flesh from
the shoulder of its tender; a little farther away two men held a huge grub
while a third endeavored to reach its swaying head with a sackful of sticky
food.
His
conductors piloted him among the swaying, wriggling grubs and scurrying men to
where a single individual taller than his fellows stood with folded arms,
apparently supervising the work. One of the sabits vibrated its antennae, this
time creating a series of musical tones. The man turned, replied with three musical
notes, and took Grandon by the arm, whereupon the two sabits left him.
"A
new slave, eh?" he said gruffly. "Don't stand there staring like a
stupid ptang. You have eyes to see the nature of the task before you. Begin it
quickly, before you have painful cause to regret your slowness."
Grandon cooly surveyed the great brute before
him. His low forehead was crossed by a livid scar just above the beetling
brows, from beneath which his small, beady eyes glared. His right ear had been
completely torn away, and with it a portion of the surrounding scalp.
"I have eyes to see and ears to hear that which
pleases me not," Grandon replied. "You accuse me of the stupidity of
a ptang, but I must needs have the stupidity of a thousand ptangs to
obey this thing miscalled a man which stands before me."
The
overseer's thick lips drew back; with hghtninglike quickness he directed a blow
at Grandon's head. By ducking swiftly the Earthman avoided the full force of
the blow which, glancing though it was, sent him
reeling to the floor a full twenty feet away.
"You
would insult Od, would you?" the overseer snarled. "You would refuse
to feed the fantas. Miserable, misbegotten offspring of misguided parents,
then shall your torn body feed them, and that speedily."
He
sprang and lifted his heavy foot for a kick; Grandon executed a quick scissors
movement with his legs, and his assailant fell sprawling.
Both
men leaped to their feet in an instant. As they faced each other, the slaves
abandoned their wriggling fanta charges and formed an excited ring about the
pair. The giant Od was first annoyed, then amazed, at
his inability to strike his opponent, while blows rained incessantly against
his unguarded chin and solar plexus. At length, he abandoned all thought of
striking his elusive antagonist and leaped forward to clutch him.
It
was the opening for which Grandon had been waiting. Stepping lighdy to one
side, he planted % terrific blow behind the ragged ear. Od
reeled blindly for a moment then fell prone, where he lay limp and still.
A
shout of approval went up from the group of spectators; then a cry from a man near ,the door checked their cheering. "To
your tasks, quickly! The sabits are coming!"
They scattered, and when four soldier sabits
arrived all but Grandon and Od were busily tending
their fractious charges. The sabits spied Grandon, standing with heaving breast
beside his prostrate foe, and ran quickly to where he stood. One of them looked
inquiringly at him, and vibrated its antennae, producing a confusing series of
tones. When it received no reply it brought a slave from near by and repeated
the vibrations. The slave replied, using his voice to produce various tones, and Grandon
judged from bis gestures that he was describing the
combat.
Immediately one of the sabits made for the
door, and shortly returned with the winged king. Then there was a further
vibratory conversation, this time among the sabits. Grandon noticed that when
they communicated with each other the vibrations were noiseless.
Momentarily
expecting to be punished, Grandon was amazed when the four soldier sabits
suddenly leaped to the prostrate man and tore him to pieces. These pieces were
distributed among the nearby grubs.
Then
the king sabit again vibrated his antennae, this time producing musical tones,
and the slave translated for Grandon. "By order of the king sabit you are
to assume immediately the duties of the man you just defeated; by vanquishing
Od, greatest of all of us in the community, you have demonstrated your
eligibility for the office."
"But
I know nothing of these duties," remonstrated Grandon.
"It does not matter. The men know what
is to be done. You are simply to maintain order and see that there is no
idling. A soldier sabit will remain with you for a few days to teach you the
tone language so that thereafter you may receive your orders direct from the
sabits."
The working day of the sabits and their
slaves began at dawn and continued until darkness. The slaves were fed twice daily,
once upon rising and once when the day's work was completed. The diet was
always the same—a mixture of the sweet, sticky stuff and edible fungi.
With
the coming of darkness all members of the community were herded within the
conical clay houses and the burrows which connected them. A sleeping room with
bare dirt floors was set aside for the men and carefully guarded by soldier
sabits. A separate dormitory for the women and children was similarly guarded.
Men and women were not allowed to mingle during the day, and though they might
see each other from a distance seldom had opportunities even for conversation.
Grandon watched carefully for an opportunity
to escape and return to Vernia, but it seemed that his every movement was
anticipated by the watchful sabits. He learned the tone language readily, and
after several weeks had elapsed, became fairly familiar with his surroundings
and the mode of life of the strange creatures who had
captured him. His instructor told him how the fantas were hatched from the eggs
laid by the roga. They were tended and fed by women and girls until they
reached a size that made it necessary for the men to take charge of them. When
they had grown larger than adults, they were taken to a dark room deep under
the ground, where they spun great, tough cocoons that completely surrounded
them, and iay dormant in these, finally emerging as full-fledged adult sabits.
Many days passed before Grandon was even
permitted out of doors. Then, one morning, he was placed in charge of a crew of
food carriers, and the white soldier sabits, taking their "cattle,"
the green creatures, to their leafy pastures, led the way directly to the tree
in which the airship was jammed.
Grandon
had mounted to gather the sweet torlage. After a tedious climb he saw the craft
directly above him. Slaves, sabits and the green "cattle" swarmed all
about it without paying it the slightest attention.
Grandon
moved cautiously toward the forked limb on which it rested, and peered within
the cab. It was empty, and apparently open; he selected a knife and a small
flash-fight from the miscellaneous articles it contained, secreting them
beneath his clothing.
As
there were no signs of a struggle he assumed that Vernia had left voluntarily;
but he was equally certain that she could not have gone far without being
captured and enslaved by the sabits.
Having by this time become familiar with the fate of. female slaves of
marriageable age, Grandon resolved that sh& must be rescued speedily. There
were hundreds of sabit communities in the valley, in any one of which she might
be a prisoner; he must find a way to escape from his own community, then
spy on all the others in turn until he found her.
That
night when the men had been quartered in their dormitory he thought of a plan, and set about at once to put it into execution.
On the evening following her capture, Vernia
was choking down a small portion of the sticky mess when she saw Rotha entering
the women's quarters.
The
girl ran toward her and buried her face in her bosom, weeping softly. Vernia
noticed several bruises on her shoulders and arms,
and the bluish prints of huge fingers on her neck.
"Poor
child," Vernia murmured. "They have abused you shamefully."
The
girl looked up into her eyes, and there was a smile on her quivering hps.
"I weep not with sorrow, Vernia of Reabon," she whispered. "It
is because of my great joy that I cannot control myself. I tremble with rapture
and thrill with the memory of a wonderful experience."
"But you have been
choked and beaten."
"You
do not understand. The man who made those marks is dead."
"Then you were
rescued. Tell me of it."
"When I entered the mating pens, Oro,
whom I love, met me at the gate and conducted me to the man for whom I had been
destined by the king sabit. On the way I besought him to take me to an empty
room and leave me there until tonight, but he said such tactics would be
useless—that we would surely be found out and the sabits would put us both to
death with horrible tortures.
"When
he led me into the room, a great, hairy man leaped up from the comer and seized
me by the arms. I cried out and straggled to escape him. Oro had left, but he
must have heard my cry, for I saw him enter the room just as the hairy giant
hurled me to the floor.
"Would that you could have seen my
beloved at that moment, my Vernia! He was magnificent. With blazing eyes and set lips he grasped my
assailant, held him for a moment aloft, and then threw hirn to the floor with such violence that I could hear the snapping of his
bones. He stood glowering down at the lifeless form for a moment, then lifted me tenderly in his arms, and whispered words of
comfort, cuddling me as one would a little child. Presently he set me on my
feet and would have gone away, but I begged him not to leave me.
" 'Tempt me not,' he said, lest I further transgress the laws of our masters,
the sabits. Think you that I am fashioned of Stone?"
"Then
he swept me in his arms, and pressed his lips to mine, while I trembled and
grew weak with the joy of that first kiss of love. And so it came about that
Oro the Mighty made me his mate, and swore that I was his, and he was mine,
forever and ever. Is it not wonderful?"
"It
is wonderful," said Vernia, "to have known your true love, though for
only a day. But will Oro not be punished by the sabits?"
"If he is found out. But during the night he took the body to the river and, after weighting
it with stones, sank it in deep water. The natural supposition will be that the
man escaped."
Vernia and Rotha worked side by side for many days, first in the
incubator room, and later tending and feeding small fantas. It was due to this change in occupation that
Vemia twice avoided the inspection tours of the king sabit.
She
was feeding the sticky stuff to a voracious young fanta one day when Rotha
touched her arm. "The king sabit comes. Stoop over that he may not observe
you."
Vernia
bent low over the wriggling fanta, meanwhile watching the king sabit from the
comer of her eye. He advanced slowly, ^pausing now and then to indicate a
woman for the pens. At length he came in front of Vemia, stopped for
a moment, then started on. It was her hungry charge
that proved her undoing, for in her preoccupation she held her wrist too close to the keen mandibles and received a sharp nip.
With
a cry of pain she stood erect. The king sabit stopped, turned back, looked at
her fixedly for a moment, then vibrated his antennae. She would be conducted to
the mating pens the following evening.
CHAPTER XI
Ghandon's
plan of escape entailed no
inconsiderable degree of caution, as well as an immense amount of physical
labor.
The room adjoining the dormitory in which he
and his men were quartered was used for storing the driest fungi which, when
mixed with the sticky milk of the green creatures, constituted the food of the
slaves. These fungi were dumped in great heaps about the room without any semblance
of order, and as one of the heaps effectually concealed a comer, one side of
which was formed by the outer wall, it was Grandon's purpose to dig a tunnel
from this point to a spot he had marked about fifty feet from the hut, where he
could emerge under a large surface root. The entrance to his tunnel would thus
be hidden by the pile of fungi, while the exit might easily be covered with one
of the huge leaves, a profusion of which lay everywhere about the hut.
Night after night he labored, digging with
bare hands and the knife he had brought from the airship, for he had no tools
of any kind. After many nights of arduous toil he had completed a slanting
tunnel about eight feet deep, and was digging in a horizontal direction toward
the point where he had calculated the root would be, when the floor of his
burrow gave way with startling abruptness. He fell, first striking some object
that gave off a metallic clang, then alighting on a hard, smooth surface with
considerable force.
Dazed
for a moment, Grandon lay there in pitch darkness with no inkling of what had
happened. At length he arose stiffly to his feet, for he was badly bruised,
though fortunately no bones were broken. He bethought himself now of the
flashlight which he had kept concealed in his clothing since the day he had
examined the abandoned airship.
The
beating of his heart was momentarily stilled by the sight which greeted his
eyes when he turned on the light; directly in front of him stood what appeared
to be a huge warrior, attired in armor from head to foot. Closer scrutiny,
however, revealed the fact that he faced an empty suit of armor, for a mailed
gauntlet clutching a heavy axe had fallen from one of the arms. It was this
which had caused the clanging sound he had heard.
The
armor was sldllfully wrought of a brownish metal which he at first took for
bronze on account of its appearance. It was of a pattern unlike anything he
had ever seen or heard of, and strikingly decorated with designs of inlaid gold
set with brilliant jewels.
Sharp
metal spines projected from the top and back of the grotesque headpiece, while
two large green jewels sparkled just above the movable visor like the eyes of
some multi-homed reptile. In the visor itself, the true eyeholes were of a
hard, thick crystal, and below them were 'small perforations to admit air. A
huge broadsword hung from one side of the belt and a short club with a heavy
spiked knob dangled from the other.
On
the floor before the figure lay a quantity of loose earth which had been
carried with Grandon in his fall. He dashed the light upward and its rays
revealed a ceiling nearly ten feet above his head, supported by timbers. He had
broken through between two of the large timbers at a point where the
cross-pieces were completely rotted away.
Upon
examining his surroundings he found that he was in a corridor about thirty feet
in width, and extending in both directions as far as he could see. A double row
of hexagonal columns supported the heavy ceiling beams, and before each column
stood a figure similar to the one he had examined, with the exception that
every alternate figure held a long, broad-bladed spear instead of an axe in the
extended right gauntlet.
The
Earthman was in a quandary; he could not return via the opening through which
he had fallen.
From his fellow slaves he had heard legends
of an ancient race of men called Albines, who were said to have at one time been
masters of the sabits. These Albines wore suits of mail which effectually
protected them from the creatures, and made slaves of whole colonies by raiding
them and making prisoners of the queen and king sabits, for the soldiers and
workers, being ever subject to the commands of their rulers, immediately became
docile when the fives of their superiors were threatened. The Albines had
vanished many years before—no one knew how or why—and the sabits had
thenceforth turned the tables on man by enslaving the marsh-people.
Grandon selected a suit of armor which
appeared to be his size, and after a considerable struggle with the unfamiliar
fastenings, succeeded in donning it. He had expected to feel stiff and awkward
in his metal suit, and was therefore agreeably surprised when he found it both
light and pliable; for though exceedingly hard and strong, the metal was as
light as aluminium and so fashioned that the interlocking plates easily
adjusted themselves to every movement of his body.
Armed with sword, axe and club, he set out to
explore the subterranean passageway, walking between the two rows of pillars
that were guarded by the silent sentinels of a vanished race, and flashing his
fight in a semicircle before him.
As he passed along, he noticed that the stone
walls on both sides of him were carved at intervals with scenes and
hieroglyphics. The scenes, for the most part, represented men attired in armor
such as he wore, battling with sabits. He noticed, also, that in nearly every
instance, the figures were pictured as striking the sabits between the eyes
with spiked clubs although a few used axes; and one was represented as severing
a soldier sabit's head from its body with a broadsword.
One
scene that particularly interested him depicted a group of Albines in the act
of capturing a queen sabit while their comrades fought off her guards. They
were fastening huge manacles on her neck and legs while she struggled
desperately.
It
seemed that he had walked for more than a mile along the corridor, and passed
several thousand armored figures, when he arrived at a great circular chamber
that, for elegance and richness of decoration, surpassed anything he had ever
seen.
From
the base of the walls to the peak of the domelike ceiling, it was a mass of
grotesque bas-reliefs and mural paintings in bright pigments, while gracefully
sculptured statues of men and women occupied niches set at intervals of about
fifteen feet all about the room. The floor was of varicolored blocks of clearest
crystal, fitted together so skillfully that they presented a surface as smooth
as that of a mirror, while forming beautiful tesselated patterns of exquisite
design.
When he turned his light on the floor it sent
forth myriad reflections that lit up the entire room. He was amazed by this
phenomenon until he discovered that the* base of each block had been cut and
silvered so each beam of. light was multiplied a
thousandfold.
In
the center of the room a fountain babbled, evidently fed by an artesian well,
for it could not otherwise have continued in operation for hundreds of years
without attention. As he walked toward the fountain he saw a round bulk, which
he had at first mistaken for a shadow, suddenly leap back and then scamper for
a broad doorway at the left.
The thing had short legs armed with huge
claws that rattled on the polished floor, and a barrel-shaped body covered with
tiny, fishlike scales. Crandon recognized it as one of those large, burrowing rodents which
the omnivorous sabits prized so highly as an article of food.
Several
times he had seen them feeding on fungi and grasses in the woods, and the
thought came that this creature must needs have access to the outer world to
live; consequently there must undoubtedly be a means of egress nearby which he
himself could use, for where so thick-bodied a rodent could go, he could easily
follow.
He
entered the doorway in quick pursuit and found himself in a passageway similar
to the one he had just vacated. The circular chamber was evidendy a sort of hub
from which these passageways radiated as spokes in all directions.
The
rodent had disappeared, but its trail was not hard to follow, for it had left
thousands of muddy footprints during its many excursions to the fountain. The
trail terminated at a gaping black hole in the wall where a portion of the
sculptured stone had broken away. Drawing his sword and pointing the light
before him, he entered the dark, winding burrow, crawling on knees and elbows.
It led upward in a slanting, irregular spiral which he
thought would never come to an end.
At length the welcome scent of fresh air came
to his nostrils and he emerged from the burrow at the base of a huge tree. He
shut off his light. As he paused there in the darkness, Grandon fancied he
heard the distant murmur of human voices. He listened intently for a moment, then clambered up on a large surface root. Several hundred
yards distant he saw two torches flickering before the gateway of a circular
wall about ten feet high which surrounded a tall, conical structure.
Leaping down from the root he approached the
place cautiously. As he drew nearer the sounds grew more
plain, and he could distinguish the voices of men raised in altercation.
He also heard the sound of blows, and thought he detected the faint cry of a
woman.
The
torch-lit gateway was guarded by two powerful soldier sabits with brown
forceps, so he circled, keeping well out of sight, and brought up at the base of the wall at a point that
was not visible from the gate. He leaped, hooked his fingers over the edge of
the wall, and drew himself up on its broad top. Then flattening his body on its
surface, he peered cautiously within.
The
space inside the wall was illuminated by four torches, the sharpened butts of
which had been driven in the ground. Some twenty-odd slaves, all big strapping
fellows, were ranged in an irregular circle about two of their comrades who
were engaged in primitive combat.
Beneath
one of the torches lay two other hairy men, stone dead—one with his /throat
torn out and the other with his head twisted and bent back in such a fashion as
to indicate a broken neck.
Suddenly
the taller of the two combatants leaped forward and locked his arms about the
head of the other, bearing him to the ground. Just as they struck the earth he
whirled, twisting the tightly gripped head—there was a sickening snap, and the
duel was ended.
The
big fellow arose, panting heavily from his exertions, and faced the others.
"You have seen the fate of those three fools," he growled. "Are
there any others, who would match their strength with Tholto for this slave
woman?"
There
was no response. Evidently his comrades^were convinced of Tholto's prowess.
"Bring
me the woman, Oro," continued the victor. "Many precious moments have
I wasted in silencing these braggarts."
A
great, hairy man, larger even than Tholto and superbly muscled, went into a low
door at his back, and emerged a moment later dragging Vemia by the wrist. He
pushed her toward Tholto, who seized, her roughly and
drew her to his side.
The slaves were startled by a clanking noise
behind them, and upon looking around beheld a man clad from head to foot in
brown armor on which many jewels glistened, his terrifying appearance enhanced
by a spine-crested helmet in which two emerald eyes sparkled, and by the
businesslike weapons that dangled from his belt.
Straight
for the startled Tholto he rushed, and there were none to block his path, for
though no living marsh-man had ever seen an Albine, they had been described in
detail to all through the familiar legends which held them to be a race of
supermen.
"Release the
girl," said a clear, commanding voice.
Tholto,
though startled, was apparency unafraid. "She belongs to me," he
replied. "I will not release her, nor lives there man or demon who can
force me to do so."
"Release
the girl or take the consequences, slave! I would not harm you, for your
actions are only what might be expected of one with your intelligence and
training."
For answer Tholto laughed. His mirth was
suddenly cut short by the impact of a mailed fist with the point of his jaw. A
look of surprise came to his face; his arms dropped, his knees sagged, and he
sank limply to the ground.
Vernia reeled, and would have fallen had not
Grandon caught her in his arms. He raised his visor and, looking into the
melting depths of twin pools of flame, saw the soul of a woman.
"How I wished that you would come,"
she whispered, her arms about his neck, her upturned
face so close that the fragrance ef her breath intoxicated him, "wished
without hope."
For answer he bent low over the yielding,
tremulous lips, but their moment of rapture was rudely broken into by a shout
from one of the slaves. "The sabits! Run for your
fives! The sabits come!"
Grandon wheeled and beheld two soldier sabits
rushing toward them. The slaves scattered, diving into the various doorways at
the base of the conelike structure. He pushed the girl into one of these and,
lowering his visor, tore the heavy spiked club from his belt.
As the first soldier sabit opened its huge
forceps to encircle Grandon's waist, he raised his spiked club and crashed it
down with all his might between the two enormous eyes.
The
creature paused, its head drooped, and it began walking aimlessly in a circle.
Not so its mate, however, which leaped forward and swept Grandon from his feet
before he could swing the club a second time. It shook him and crunched him
with its powerful mandibles, but the armor-plates held, and though giddy from
the shaking, he was unhurt.
Grandon
lost his spiked club, but his sword and axe remained in his belt. He drew the
latter and struck at the creature's foreleg. To his surprise the weapon severed
it completely. Where an axe of steel would have failed to make an impression,
the razorlike edge of this marvelous metal cut cleanly. Though the axe-head,
like the club, was weighted with a ball of black metal, probably lead, the blade itself as well as the handle were of the wondrously
hard brown metal.
Encouraged
by his success with the axe, Grandon hacked desperately at the ugly head. At
length the powerful forceps released their grip and the sabit followed the
staggering tactics of its companion, walking about on its five good legs and
moving the stump of the sixth as though the member were still there.
The
Earthman rose to his feet and struck off the heads of the two creatures with
his axe. To his surprise and horror, the bodies continued their purposeless
wandering!
Vemia
came forth from the hut as he was recovering his club, and one by one the
marsh-men appeared, astonishment and awe written on their faces. They seemed
ready to fall down and worship the hero who had, single-handed, overcome two
ferocious soldier sabits.
Tholto, who had lain like a log where Grandon
felled him, now sat up and gazed on the proceedings in blank amazement,
tenderly feeling his injured jaw, as if fearful that it would come off
completely.
"Slaves,"
said Grandon suddenly, taking the hand of Ver-nia. "you
have offered unspeakable insult to the greatest, the noblest and the most
beautiful princess in all Zarovia. Ask her pardon now, for your lives are in
her hands." To a man they groveled before her.
Vernia looked up into the flashing
eyes of her champion.
"I
would pardon them all, Robert Grandon," she said, "for they know
nothing of the ethics of men, but have rather been bred and trained like
domestic animals."
"You
have heard her generous verdict, slaves," said Grandon. "Rise, now,
and attend what I have to say to you. I take it that you would prefer freedom
to slavery.",
"We
desire freedom above all things, mighty Albine," replied Oro, who had
taken a place at the head of the men, "but the sabits are all-powerful and
may not be overcome by ordinary mortals."
"I
am no Albine," continued the Earthman. "Call me Grandon of Terra.
What I have done to yonder sabits, you can do to others of their kind. All you
need is weapons and armor. These I will provide if you will follow me and
acknowledge my leadership."
"I
am called Oro the Mighty," the huge marsh-man answered, "yet I gladly
acknowledge your leadership."
"And II And
II" echoed the others with enthusiasm.
"Then follow me and I
will make sabit killers of you all."
Grandon
led the way toward the gate when he heard a cry behind them. Turning, he beheld
Tholto striving weakly to rise.
"Mercy,"
he cried. "Have mercy, noble Grandon of Terra. Leave me not here to be
torn to pieces by sabits and fed to the fantas."
Grandon turned mquiring
eyes to Vernia.
"He is the most grievous offender of
them all," she said, "yet will I pardon him because of his
ignorance."
Motioning
two of the men to assist Tholto, Grandon ordered the others to bring as many
torches as they could find, but carried only one lighted, and hooded it with a
food sack in order that it might not be seen by the sabits.
When
all was ready he led them to the mouth of the rodent burrow, enjoining absolute
silence on the way. He was
the first to enter, with flashlight and sword in his hands as before. Vemia came next, clutching his ankle, and after her came Oro and
the others. When they had concluded the tortuous descent and all were
standing in the long corridor he ordered that three more torches be lighted
and immediately set about the work of outfitting his men with armor and
weapons.
No
suit of Albine armor small enough for Vernia could be found, but the smallest
one available was made to serve the purpose by telescoping it at the waist and
fastening it with strips torn from the sack. These sacks were made from the
exceedingly tough cocoons spun and eventually discarded by the fantas, and
were not only strong and durable, but water-proof as well.
The
little army, marching on into the great central room, torchlight glinting from
jeweled plates and spears and axes held aloft, looked like reincarnated Albine
warriors returned to their ancient haunts.
Grandon
assembled his small command near the bubbling fountain and addressed them;
"I brought you here with the agreement that I'd free you from the sabits.
I had a further plan—to start a movement to free every human slave and make
slaves of the sabits that survive! First we will conquer the white sabits, for
they are the most powerful. We can attack them from within their own
stronghold. On the wall here is a picture of the way the Albines captured sabit
rulers, and enslaved their followers. Five men search the passageways and
chambers for fetters and chains like those illustrated. Five men will remain
here under the command of the princess. The rest will go with me. We must act
quickly, for the night is three-fourths gone, and with daylight the sabits will
be astir and our difficulties will be great."
Oro and four other men were detailed to
search the passageways and, after five men had been selected for Vemia, Grandon
led the others along the passageway through which he had first entered the
subterranean chambers. On the way he collected a number of spears from the
silent guardsmen.
With the assistance of his men he cut notches
in the handles of four spears, chopped several others into shorter pieces, and
with strips of the food sack for fastenings, constructed a serviceable ladder
to reach the hole through which he had fallen.
He
stationed three men at the foot of the ladder, instructing them as to their
duties, and led the others up into the fungi storage room where he found things
as he had left them. Very quiedy they made their way to the dormitories where
two hundred slaves were quartered, one man being left at the top of the ladder
and another stationed at the entrance to the storage room.
Two
soldier sabits were on guard without the main entrance to the dormitories.
Grandon quiety stationed four of his men within and then began the business of
awakening the slaves and sending them into the chamber below where three men
waited to outfit them with armor and weapons and instruct them as to the
correct method for dispatching sabits.
At
dawn, just as the last of the men had been sent below, the sabit guards entered
for the purpose of arousing the slaves. One was hacked to pieces as he came in
the doorway, but the other, seeing the fate of its companion, escaped to warn
the community.
Grandon
now had an army of two hundred and twenty-three men, more than enough to guard
the doorways. Though the sabits attacked desperately all morning long, he
succeeded in keeping them at bay.
It
was nearly midday before Oro reported to his commander. He did not arrive empty-handed,
however, as his men staggered under the weight of four sets of sabit fetters.
They had found many new wonders in their explorations of the subterranean
passageways—great dining halls; barracks for soldiers; kitchens with cooking
utensils and fireplaces; treasure vaults filled with jewels and precious
metals; armories with weapons, armor and strange engines of war; bedrooms
with grotesque but artistically constructed sleeping shelves and furniture, and
a great throne room decorated in barbaric magnificence.
Grandon
was greatly interested but he had business at hand that would brook no waiting.
The
structure in which the king and queen sabits of the white community were
quartered had but one entrance on the ground floor; there were, however, four runways
connecting with its underground level which branched out at right angles,
leading to other buildings of the community. His first problem, therefore, was
to block these runways with warriors, thus cutting off the sabit rulers from
these avenues of escape.
One of the four runways led directly under the dormitory and storeroom
building occupied by Grandon and his men. This was already blocked with armed guards.
Another
runway led to the sleeping quarters of the women and children in connection
with which there was another storeroom. The third led to the building in which
the women sorted sabit eggs and cared for the young fantas, while the fourth
connected with the building in which the men looked after the larger fantas.
Sabit
soldiers and workers used the last-named building for sleeping quarters, as
well as the central structure. The green creatures were kept in the upper
levels of the great central building, for the sabits had learned by experience
that they died in great numbers when quartered on the ground or under it. The
mating pens were0 kept entirely separate from the rest of the
buildings.
Leaving fifty men to guard the building which
was in their possession, Grandon sallied forth at the head of his army. With
Oro the Mighty on his right, and Tholto on his left, he fought at the head of
his men for more than an hour before the attacking sabits gave way. These
retreated to the central building, but Grandon was not ready to attack this.
The women's quarters were captured in a relatively short time.
Leaving a guard of twenty-five armored men
here, they attacked the building in which the women worked. Here they met with
desperate resistance, and when finally they broke into it, found that the
sabits had transported all eggs and young fantas to the central building.
After
leaving twenty-five men to guard this building, they attacked the one in which
the larger fantas were kept, but found it deserted.
'Another
guard of twenty-five was hosted at this point, and now, with all avenues of
escape blocked, they were ready to lay siege to the main structure. After
posting guards at the various points the army numbered only ninety-eight men.
With these he surrounded the structure, and attempted to battle his way
through the narrow doorway.
This, he soon found, would be a well-nigh
endless task, for two soldier sabits could hold back a regiment here, and
although they were cut down time and again, others rushed in to take their
places.
"If
we only had a cannon of some sort," thought
Crandon. Then he remembered the airship and the mattorks. Leaving Oro in charge
of the besiegers with instructions to keep up the attack on the entrance, he
took a dozen men and made for the tree in which the craft was jammed. While six
of the men stood guard at the foot of the tree, he and the other six removed
their armor and climbed up the rough bark.
They
found the craft apparently undisturbed. With the aid of tools which he took
from one of the drawers in the cab, he removed the three mattorks and, binding
each to a man with a strip of sacking, he bade them convey them to the ground.
He and the others followed with the ammunition, tools, searchlights, and
whatever else looked useful. After donning their armor they returned to the
attack.
As
his men were unskilled in the use of the mattork, Grandon mounted only one
weapon. Then he recalled his men from the doorway and began the bombardment,
using explosive metal bullets. Only a few shots were required to enlarge the
opening to the size of a dozen doorways and at the same time clear the
surrounding space of sabits.
Grandon knew that the quarters of the queen and king sabits were in a
central chamber on the ground floor, and that four walls intervened between
this chamber which was reached by winding passageways, and the outer opening. Moving his mattork closer, he shot down the
second, third and fourth walls, while his warriors kept the sabits back.
Then he led a swift charge on the rulers of
the white sabits, followed by Oro and the men who carried the manacles.
It was here that he learned a peculiar
characteristic of the king and queen sabits, for though the soldier and worker
sabits retreated, the sabit rulers showed no disposition to do so. They
appeared to have a certain standard of royal dignity which they punctiliously
observed. They struggled desperately but unavailingly until the manacles were
clamped in place. Then the white sabits became the slaves of men, for as soon
as their rulers were made prisoners, all surrendered docilely.
Placing a guard of twenty-five men around the royal
prisoners the Earthman ordered that the community life of
the former masters of men,be resumed. The fantas and
eggs
were returned to their respective buildings and the green
creatures were conveyed to their leafy pastures—but this
time the work was done entirely by sabits. Later, when the
community of marsh-people was organized, it was Grandon's
plan that the sabits should fetch and carry for those who
once served them. '■'
When he returned to the dormitories, Grandon
found Vemia in earnest and animated conversation with a young slave girl. Oro,
who entered behind him, raised his visor at sight of the girl and the two
embraced in a transport of joyous recognition.
"The
girl is Rotha, a former slave of the brown-mouthed
sabits," explained Vemia. "She has just escaped, and brings terrible
tidings. This is Grandon of Terra, Rotha—the man of whom I told you. Let him
hear your message at once."
"Today
while working with the others," said, Rotha, "I heard the rumor that
the eighteen girls whom you left in the mating pens would be tortured to death
before the other slaves tonight."
"But I saw no girls in
the mating pens," said Grandon.
"Nor
did I," answered Vernia. "Rotha says they had been taken to the inner
rooms before I arrived."
Grandon
swung on Oro. "Why didn't you tell me of this? We could have brought them
with us."
The big
marsh-man hung his head. "I thought you knew," he said. "You
were in command, and I did not doubt that if you wished them brought with us
you would say so. Every evening there are girls in the mating pens."
"Where
are they to be punished, and what will be the manner of their punishment?"
asked Grandon.
"All
the slaves will be herded before the hut of the queen sabit."
"Yes."
"Then each girl will be fed, feet first,
to a large fanta." "Can nothing be done to save themP asked Vernia. "We will do our best," Grandon replied.
"Oro, assemble a hundred men at once."
CHAPTER
XII
From
among the hundred
warriors marshaled by Oro, Grandon selected five who appeared above the average
in intelligence, to act as officers, each to command nineteen men.
Absolute silence was observed as they
marched. The Earthman led the column, followed by Oro with twenty men with two
sets of sabit-fetters. After this group came the next
officer whose crew carried a mattork, a rough tripod that Grandon had made for
it, and ammunition. The others brought up the rear.
It was not until they
arrived at a point near the mating pens that they saw the torches which had been planted before the
central building. The doomed girls were huddled in a little group near the
doorway, guarded by a dozen soldier sabits.
The
king sabit stood in the glare of the torchlight, but his mate was not in sight.
The female slaves and their children sat on the ground facing the entrance. Behind them stood the men, while soldier sabits formed a great
circle about the whole scene.
Grandon
saw two worker sabits pilot a huge fanta through the doorway. This lusty infant
was larger even than the soldier sabits, almost ready to spin its cocoon. It
gnashed its huge mandibles continuously, and wiggled from side to side, nearly
upsetting its pilots with each jerk.
"We
must work fast," said Grandon, "if we would be in time. The plan is
as follows. Oro will take twenty men and the larger set of fetters and circle,
coming up behind the buildings. When he hears the report of the mattork, he is
to cut a door in the rear of the building, go immediately to the chamber of the
queen sabit and make her prisoner.
"You
two will take your details and go with Oro's men to the rear of the building.
Upon the second report of the mattork, one detail will charge around the right
side of the building and fetter the king sabit while the other charges around
the left side and rescues the girls, placing a guard around them.
"The
fourth detail will go to a place behind that large surface root to the north of
the sabits, while the last one will hide behind the mating pens on the south.
At the third report of the mattork they will rush in and surround the slaves
assembled before the building."
"But
you thus will be left alone," remonstrated Oro. "The sabits will
overpower and loll you, for you cannot resist an army single-handed."
"Have
no fear for me," replied Grandon. "Only do as you are bidden. Go now,
swiftly and silently as possible. There is no time to lose."
In a moment Grandon was left entirely alone.
He quickly mounted the mattork, meanwhile watching the ceremonies of the sabits
from time to time. The king sabit had come out in front of the hungry fanta and
was haranguing the slaves in the tone-language, no doubt warning them that if
any of their number should ever attempt to escape, a fate similar to that which
was to be meted out to the girls awaited them.
After
droning out his warnings for a full ten minutes the king sabit stepped to one
side, whereupon four worker sabits seized a girl, two on a side, and carried
her before the fanta.
Grandon
quickly withdrew the clip of explosive bullets he had in the mattork and
inserted one of solid missiles instead. The girl was being pushed feet
foremost toward those great gaping jaws, and although he knew Oro would not be
ready, he took careful aim at the hideous head.
Just as he was ready to press the button the form of a man appeared on a
direct line between mattork and target. Grandon lifted his tripod, intending to try
a shot from another position, when he saw the man who had momentarily saved the
fanta's life hurl a huge rock fragment straight for
its ugly head. The missile struck the mark squarely, and the great soft-bodied
monster, after a convulsive shudder, sank over on its side, stone dead.
Once
more Grandon put his clip of explosive bullets in the mattork. He saw the man
turn and dodge among the snapping sabits; he succeeded in breaking through the
line and in keeping a short distance ahead of his pursuers.
Training
his weapon on those sabits
immediately behind the fugitive, the Earthman opened fire. The exploding
missile tore a great gap in the "ranks of the monsters, killing a half dozen and disabling as many more,
whereupon the others paused, running this way and that in their endeavor to
locate the unseen attacker.
Suddenly
Grandon leaped up on the surface root behind him and, turning his pocket
flashlight on himself, shouted defiance to the sabits in the tone-language. The
king sabit saw him almost immediately, and vibrated his antennae excitedly, whereupon all but a dozen soldier
sabits who remained to guard the slaves charged down on Grandon. As he leaped
back to the ground and made his mattork ready, the man who had broken through
the sabit guards arrived, panting heavily.
"Give
me a weapon," cried the strange, "and I will fight with you."
Grandon
handed hfrn the spiked club. "Hit them between the eyes," he
said. "It is the only vulnerable spot. If you are as skillful with a club
as you are at hurling stones, I am sure you will account for a few of
them."
The
newcomer smiled slightly. He was evidendy not a marsh-man, for his features
were clean-cut, his hair was a light golden yellow. He walked with the carriage
of a soldier.
"It
was a lucky hit," he replied. "Throwing stones is not my specialty. I
could do much better with that weapon."
Grandon fired the signal
for the second attack.
"Where
did you learn to use the mattork?" Grandon asked his ally.
"I
was captain in the armies of Mernerum for several years, and was credited with
being a fairly good marksman."
"Here,
then, take the weapon. Let me see what you can do with it. The next shot will
be the final signal for my men. See if you can stop the charge of these soldier
sabits."
The
newcomer grasped the weapon with the assurance of a master musician taking up his
instrument. The first shot was a direct hit in the foremost ranks of the
sabits, and thereafter he fired with unerring accuracy. It was but one weapon
against an army, however, and both men knew that in a few seconds they would be
overwhelmed.
Grandon
saw one crew of armored men struggling to fetter the king sabit, while another
group struck down the guards surrounding the girls. Before the last two details
had come to blows with the other guards, the mattork-tripod was knocked over by
the charging monsters, and both men were fighting with their backs against the
thick surface root, Grandon swinging his heavy axe while his new-found ally
used the spiked club
almost as skillfully as he had used the mattork.
Closer and closer pressed the sabits,
snapping their mighty forceps which were easily capable of cutting the
unarmored man in two at one nip. The newcomer knew this, yet he laughed as he
fought, and at times taunted the furious attackers in the tone-language.
"You
jest with death, yet fight with the fury of a cornered lion," said
Crandon. "What is your name?"
"I
am called Joto, which in the language of Mernerum means The Merry One.' Take
thatl" crushing the skull of a huge sabit, "thou self-styled master
of menl Names matter but little now, for we have not long to five; yet I would
not die without knowing the name of the mighty fighter to whom I owe the few
moments of life I have remaining."
"I
am Grandon of Terra," answered the Earthman, cleaving the head of an
antagonist and leaping back to avoid the snap of another. He tried to wrench
the axe free, but it stuck, and the next moment powerful forceps encircled him.
With
a final tug at the handle of his weapon, he was jerked from the side of his
companion and mauled about by a dozen sabits who alternately shook him,
crunched him with their mandibles, and tried to pull him to pieces. The armor
held, but the man inside it was swiftly lapsing into unconsciousness.
A
powerful sabit, more running
than its comrades, seized
Grandon by the ankles and beat him against the hard surface root. At the second
terrific shock the thread of consciousness snapped asunder.
CHAPTER XIII
Returning
consciousness brought
numerous twinges of pain to Grandon. He stirred uneasily. A soft hand pressed
his fevered brow, and a sweet voice said: "Speak not so loudly, Rotha. You
will awaken him and he needs rest-much rest and quiet."
Slowly
he opened his eyes. He was lying on a sleeping shelf that projected in a
half-moon shape from the wall like the nest of a cave-swallow. At the foot of
his couch, which was of stone but lined with soft moss, Rotha, the slave girl,
held a golden vessel in which was a pasty compound of aromatic herbs, while
Vernia occupied a place at the head. His armor had been removed and his bruises
covered with the sweet-smelling ointment.
In
the center of the room a guard stood stiffly erect, holding a sputtering
torch, by the light of which he could see grotesquely carved figures on the
walls, a queer table shaped like a great tortoise, and chairs that were''human
figures seated on round pedestals, the body forming the back, the lap the seat,
and outstretched arms with hands bent downward and finger-tips touching the
thighs forming the arm rests.
The furniture was all cut from hard wood of a
reddish purple color and highly polished. The floor was of hexagonal blocks of
vari-colored stone and presented a smooth, glossy surface.
He saw all these things at a glance, then his eyes sought those of the girl at his bedside.
"It is indeed an honor to be nursed by the greatest ruler in all
Zarovia," he said, smiling feebly.
"I'm afraid it is but small recompense
for your services," she replied. "Besides, I am a ruler no longer,
nor is it probable that I ever will be again. Within fifty-eight days my
cousin, Prince Destho, will assume the crown. I am sure he must have been the
instigator of my abduction. My legal right to the throne will have been forever
forfeited. I will have been away from the capital for a year, and such is the
inexorable law."
"Surely
you must be mistaken in your calculations. I am positive you have not been away
from Reabon for over half a year at most."
"You
forget that you are on Zarovia, where the years are much shorter than on your
planet. Our world is closer to the sun than yours, consequendy our year is only
two hundred and twenty-five days in length."
"That's true. Then we
must start for Reabon at once."
"But how? The marsh-men say there is no way out of this valley but a secret
tunnel, known only to the sabits; and this is said to be guarded night and day
by a huge army of soldier -sabits, recruited from all the communities in the
valley."
"But
does not the river cut through the surrounding cliffs on its way to the
sea?"
"I am told that the river ends in a
great whirlpool a few miles from here. They say it falls into a bottomless pit,
for the pit has never been known to fill up or the river to overflow its banks."
"Then, we have the alternative of
scaling the cliffs, or finding the secret passageway of the sabits and fighting
our way through," said Crandon. "In either event we must start
quickly, for the time is short."
Despite her protests Crandon arose, gritting
his teeth as pain shot through his body. While he donned his armor with the
assistance of the two girls he learned that all of the slaves had been rescued
and the long and queen sabits were prisoners.
Joto had escaped his pursuers and personally
led a party to the rescue of Crandon. They took him to Vemia, who had
him conveyed to this bedchamber of an ancient Albine ruler, where she and Rotha
nursed him all through the night.
Crandon
was drawing on his gauntlets when Oro entered. At sight of his commander, Oro
saluted smartly, after the style of soldiers of Zarovian empires.
"Where
did you learn the military salute, and why are you here instead of guarding the
roga-sabit as instructed?" asked Crandon.
"We
have been taught many things by Joto, who has assumed temporary command of
your army," replied Oro. "He has set the other captains you appointed
to the tasks of guarding the king and queen sabits of the two communities,
drilling, and learning the meaning of military orders. In addition he has been
training a crew of thirty men to handle the mattorks. We are in grave danger,
for the sabits of all the communities, realizing that we menace their safety,
have united with the common purpose of annihilating us. Our scouts report the
marshaling of a mighty force in the red-mouthed community which they have made
their base of operations. Joto thinks they will attack us before
nightfall."
"Joto
has commendable initiative and ability to match it," said Crandon.
"Let us go and see what he has accomplished."
Accompanied
by the two girls, they made their way to the place where Crandon had fallen
into the passageway; the hole had been widened and a broad stairway
constructed. Two guards saluted stiffly as they passed.
They found Joto outside the structure,
supervising the practice of the mattork crew, who used empty bullets and gas
clips but went through the motions of loading, aiming and firing with
surprising speed and precision, while four units of a hundred men each were
being drilled by their officers. He turned and raised his visor with a
welcoming salute as Grandon and the others approached.
"I
see that you have considerable military genius," said Grandon.
"Having trained men in the art of
warfare for some time I should be proficient," said Joto. "However, I
bow to you as a superior strategist. The attack you planned against the
brown-mouthed sabits was marvelously conceived and executed. We await your
orders."
"How many sabits do
you expect will attack us?"
"Twenty thousand, at the very least. Every community is sending no less than a
hundred, and there are more than two hundred communities."
"Twenty
thousand sabits," mused Grandon. "Enough to sweep us away bodily, and these buildings with
us."
"Easily."
"With four hundred and fifty men it will
be impossible to guard both communities, or even all
the buildings of one community. Have the brown-mouthed sabit rulers brought to
the central building of this community, and there kept with the rulers of the
white community. Withdraw our guards from all other buildings, and block all
the runways with stones except the one which leads here from the central
building."
"Then we may as well kill all of our
sabit slaves at once," said Joto, "for the attackers will surely kill
them."
"Why
should they war on their own kind," asked Grandon, "when it is their
purpose to rescue them?"
"Their
purpose is not altruistic, but protective only. As our slaves, the
brown-mouthed and the white sabits are enemies of their kind. Moreover, they
will fight to protect their rulers, their eggs and their f antas."
"Why
not let them fight?" asked Vemia. "They should account for a few of
the attackers."
"Right," exclaimed Grandon.
"Leave them to guard the brown-mouthed community and the three outer
structures of this one. No doubt they will all be killed in the first charge,
but it is probable they will account for an equal number of enemies."
Joto sent a messenger to order the
brown-mouthed rulers brought to new quarters, as directed by Grandon. It was
decided that a hundred men should be posted in the central building, with one
mattork placed on the roof. The other two mattorks would command the battlefield from a place on the roof of
the men's sleeping quarters.
The
stores of dried fungi from both communities were removed from their storage
rooms and carried to the subterranean chambers, as were also hundreds of sacks
of the sticky food. While joto supervised this work, Grandon took Oro and a
crew of twenty-five men to examine the engines of war in the ancient armory of
the Albines, which Oro had discovered while exploring the underground passageways.
The huge subterranean armory, next to the throne
room, was the largest excavation in the entire system. Its floor level was
considerably below that of the passageways and its ceiling was higher and
dome-shaped. Though the floor was of hard granite, the walls and ceilings were
as elaborately decorated as those of the fountain room, the reliefs being
almost exclusively battle scenes between Albines and sabits, and in many cases
showing in operation engines of war similar to those which stood about on the
floor.
Grandon
examined the heavy, death-dealing instruments. Most of them were better for
attack on the sabit dwellings than for defense.
There were catapults that hurled huge stones
or fired long, heavy, metal-tipped missiles which acted as battering rams.
There were instruments apparently adapted to the spraying of poisonous liquids,
though no ammunition for them could be found.
Among
the devices which required considerable mechanical ingenuity were queer
three-wheeled carts built in the shape of hollow triangles, the outside edges
of which were protected by curved blades and spiked clubs that whirled rapidly
when the machines were pushed forward by men running inside. A small group of
men operating on level ground might cut a path through an entire sabit army
with one of these machines.
Having
sent Oro and his men to Joto with six of the carts, Grandon was examining the
brown metal spring of one of the catapults when his attention was attracted by
a curiously wrought cabinet
standing against the wall. What he at first took to be narrow sliding drawers
proved to be thin flat slabs of stone on which designs had been scratched with
some sharp instrument. The topmost slab was covered with a carefully drafted
design of an Albine catapult. The next illustrated the construction and working
principles of the spraying machines.
As
he pulled out slab after slab he found plans for the construction of
practically all the machines he had seen, but the bottom slab consisted of two
maps side by side, the general shape of both being identical, but the details
different.
He
recognized one as a map of the valley surface, the other as a plan of the
underground passageways and chambers of the Albines.
A
careful scrutiny of the surface map revealed only the solid, unbroken cliffs in
oval formation, so he concluded that the tunnel mentioned by the marsh-men must
not have been known to the Albines. Turning from this to the underground map,
he noticed a discrepancy that had previously escaped his observation, for in
the first map the river began at the western end of the valley and wound its
way south of the center to the point where it ended in a whirlpool; while in
the second it began in the northwest and flowed for some distance ■ north
of the center, apparently going directly through the point where the other map
showed the whirlpool, and flowing thence on through the cliffs to the east.
Grandon
had seen enough of the valley to know that but one river flowed through it.
Obviously it was an underground river! Furthermore, it could not have been
mapped unless navigable, in which case it offered a means of escape from the
valley.
He noticed that at one point the river
appeared to touch the end of the chamber he was in, but there seemed to be no
mode of exit other than the door which he had entered. He walked back and forth
along the walls searching for a concealed door.
When about to give up his
seemingly hopeless quest he arrived at a certain point where his attention was attracted by a
gentle murmuring as of distant waters. Pausing, he listened breathlessly, and
noticed that the sound seemed to emanate from the figure of an armed warrior
which was chiseled in bold relief on the wall before him.
A
careful search revealed a small lever behind the right elbow, and on pulling
this a section of the wall four feet wide and higher than a man moved toward
him, revealing a flat platform and a flight of steps beyond. The sound of
roaring water was now plainly audible.
Grandon
stepped on the platform and, finding it firm, held his torch aloft and
descended the steps. After traveling for a considerable distance he reached a
level floor of stone and a moment later came upon a great stone dock on which,
as far as his torchlight carried in both directions, reposed a fleet of metal
boats. Each was about fifty feet in length and built in the form of those huge
amphibious reptiles such as he had rescued Vemia from, back in Reabon. The
prow ended in the arched serpentine neck and head, while the stern terminated
in the flat, pointed tail. Behind these grotesque craft he could see the black,
foam-flecked water rushing headlong beneath stalactite-festooned subterranean
arches.
He
examined one of the boats. It was constructed of brown metal similar to that
from which thcAlbines made their weapons and armor, and appeared quite strong
and seaworthy. The deck was completely arched over with the same material,
fashioned in imitation of reptilian scales, except at the front and rear where
there were oval holes provided with hinged metal lids.
Upon
entering the forward hole he found a roomy interior all of metal, and saw that
the hull was rigidly ribbed and braced. Twenty large metal paddles lay on the
floor and there were twenty seats for paddlers, ten on each side, while metal
hoods projected outward almost to the water line, in such a manner that they
would completely hide the paddlers and protect them from the missiles of an
enemy. The steering device and helmsman's seat were immediately behind the top
of the rear entrace hole, and were also protected by movable metal plates.
Upon
his moving the tiller the entire tail turned; the rudder was fastened beneath
this tail.
Grandon
made his way back to the armory and carefully closed the secret doorway. He
started along the passageway, when he noticed a soldier running toward him.
The man stopped suddenly when he saw Grandon
and saluted stiffly. "Joto bade me tell you that the sabits are beginning
to attack."
"Attacking
already?" Grandon hurried to join in the momentous conflict which was to
decide, once and for all, whether men or monsters should rule the Valley of the
Sabits.
As
soon as he had left the room a tall, bulky figure in armor stepped from behind
a large catapult and went directly to the hidden door, wrenching one of the
torches from its fastening as he passed. The soldier fumbled with the hidden
lever for a moment, then managed to swing the door back and disappeared in the
dark interior.
Some
twenty minutes later he reappeared, carefully fastened the door and replaced
the torch. His visor was raised; the face was that of Tholto.
"A
way out of the valley," he muttered. "I have only to gather a few provisions and to
get her."
CHAPTER
XIV
The pandemonium of battle was punctuated by the staccato
reports of the men's cannonlike mattorks as Grandon reached the interior of the
men's sleeping quarters. He mounted to the topmost chamber from which Joto
directed the activities
of the two mattork crews while he shouted orders to the defenders.
Here
he found Vemia and Rotha. "See," the marsh-girl cried, "they
come by thousands and tens of thousands. They cover the entire landscape. Our
defenses will be crushed."
"You forget that they are only brutes,
Rotha," replied Vernia, "and as such may be overcome by creatures of
superior intellect. Men are the lords of creation, not sabits."
"But they are wiser
than all other animals . . ."
"Except men." She turned to Grandon smiling. "We are going to win this battle,
are we not, Robert Grandon?"
"Most
assuredly," he replied. "However, I am not so positive that we will
be able to hold this building. This is hardly a safe place."
"You
forget," said Vernia, "that I, too, am a soldier. I prefer to remain here, and if necessary, take part in the
fighting."
"I
am sure you are too good a soldier to disobey orders, and I am in command. You
are ordered below."
A
quick flash of resentment came to her eyes at his tone and words.
'You presume to command me? To dictate to the Princess of Reabon? I only command. Others
obey."
In outraged dignity she turned and starte3
toward the ramparts, but a strong pair of arms picked her up and carried her
down the runways and to the foot of the stairway, while Rotha trailed behind.
Grandon set Vernia gently down and, taking her by the shoulders, turned her so
she looked up at him with flaming eyes and heaving bosom.
"You would only be in my way, and would
more than likely be carried off by the sabits. Now will you go forward
peaceably, or must I carry you the rest of the way?"
A slight flush suffused her cheeks, but when
she raised her eyes to his, there was a new look in them. "I will go, my
commander."
"Spoken like a true soldier." He
paused for a moment to
admire her, walking gracefully with Rotha down the passageway; then he turned
to get back to the fighting.
Grandon
found the lower floor of the men's sleeping quarters well defended, so climbed
once more to the top of the structure where Joto was directing the battle. As
far as he could see in every direction the ground swarmed with sabits. In a
short time the brown-mouthed sabit community was overwhelmed and its buildings
were razed to the ground, as were three of the outer structures of the white sabit
community.
The
men in the central building held their own for a considerable time, but their
outer ring of sabit guards were killed and torn to pieces almost instantly. At
length it appeared inevitable that this building must fall. Sabits were gnawing
their way through the walls and more and more soldiers were required to hold
them back.
"I will take a force
to help them," said Joto.
"No.
You are doing very well here. I will go to their assistance," replied
Grandon.
Taking
fifty men from the reserve force in the storeroom Grandon led them through the
low underground runway. As they arrived the guards were being driven to the
inner chambers, but they rallied with the aid of the new re-enforcements and
once more drove the sabits from the building.
Sheb,
the captain in command here, was on the roof directing the mattork crew, so
Grandon climbed thither after assuring himself that the first floor was well
defended. He found the crew standing idle while Sheb, fuming and cursing, was
attempting to dislodge a jammed gas clip from the breech of the weapon.
"Are
you all so witless that you insert a clip backward after having been told the
proper way a thousand times?" he roared. "For the price of a bowl of
wine I would have you stripped of your armor and thrown to the sabits."
"Let
me try," said Grandon coolly. "I believe I can get that clip out for you."
Surprised at the sudden appearance of his
commander,
Sheb
stood up and saluted hurriedly. With the point of his sword Grandon gently
pried the recalcitrant clip, burned it, and closed the breech. Once more the
crew sprayed bullets into the ranks of the attackers.
A
soldier rushed up from below. The outer walls are nearly gone," he gasped.
"In a few minutes the building will cave in."
"Order a retreat. There is no use in
defending this shell." The king and queen sabit prisoners—shall we take
them with us?"
"Leave them behind."
"If
we leave them we will have no sabit slaves," said Sheb.
"Plenty
more can be captured if we successfully withstand this attack," replied
Grandon.
Another messenger arrived from below.
The
sabits have burrowed into the runway," he cried. "We will not be able
to return to the other building."
"Everyone
below at once," shouted Grandon. "Bring the mattork and ammunition. Hurry!"
The building trembled and one of the walls collapsed as
they rushed to the ground floor. "Into the runway, every
man of you," he commanded. "Let the mattork crew go
first and clear the way." ■>
Soon
the men were all crowded into the narrow runway while Grandon and Sheb,
standing abreast, fought off the sabits that attempted to follow. The entire
structure collapsed a few minutes later, crushing not only the imprisoned
ruler sabits but many of the attackers as well. The entrance to the runway was
completely bottled up by fallen debris.
Shouldering
his way through his crowded soldiers, Grandon at length arrived at the point
where the sabits had burrowed into the runway. Here the mattork crew worked
desperately, flanked by a half dozen soldiers. The cut in the runway was more
than twenty feet across, and swarmed with sabits. Across this breach he could
see Oro and his men fighting to keep the attackers from entering on the other
side.
Meanwhile the sabits on the ground above the
runways were burrowing in a hundred places. Already a third of the men who
guarded the central building had been dragged away by the attackers.
After
a short conversation with the captain Sheb, Grandon ran across the twenty-foot
breach the sabits had made in their defenses, leaping this way and that to
avoid the snapping forceps.
Oro and the others welcomed
him with enthusiasm.
He
ran swiftly through the passageway and, upon coming up, quickly placed crews in
the ancient Albine fighting chariots he had sent from the armory some time
before. Taking a place with the men in the foremost machine, he led them
through the door straight into the army of sabits, the guards standing aside to
let them pass. They formed a flying wedge with Grandon's machine at the apex,
cutting a wide swath in the ranks of the attackers.
The
efficacy of the machines was surprising, even to Grandon, who had formed some idea
of their possibilities. The whirling knives and clubs literally cut the
opposing sabits to ribbons.
Arriving at the mouth of the runway which
held the im-
E |
risoned
men, they quickly drove back the attackers, then ept them at bay by ninning a
circle about the breach while Sheb led his followers to safety. When the last
man had crossed they formed a wedge once more and cut then-way back to their
comrades, entering the door amid shouts of acclamation from the defenders.
Night fell, and the fighting continued by
torchlight, while Grandon made further plans. There were more than a hundred of
the machines in the armory, and he planned to press them all into service as
soon as possible. Taking the entire force of reserves with him, he hurried
thither, not noticing the absence of Vernia and Rotha who he supposed had
retired to their bedchambers in the women's quarters.
He
was surprised at sight of the open exit door, but decided that he must not
have pushed it far enough for the lock to catch.
The machines were quickly dragged from their
ancient resting places and provided with crews. Within a half hour they were
assembled in the building, ready for the charge. One by one they emerged from
the doorway, spreading out in a great line six hundred feet long, then"
"Forward!" shouted Crandon, while Joto on the roof withheld the
mat-tork fire.
The
charge was irresistible. With every fifty feet of progress a thousand sabits
perished. They cut completely through the sabit army, turned their machines and
charged again, breaking down the resistance of those who had instinctively
filled in the lines. Back and forth they drove through the thinning ranks of
the attackers until the survivors, seeing that further resistance was futile,
turned and fled.
Thus
was the power of the sabits forever broken in the valley.
When
Grandon entered the building with his victorious machine crews, the people
cheered until they were hoarse. Posting a guard at the entrance, he called them
to attend what he had to say to them in the great audience chamber of the
ancient Albines.
When
the people were assembled in the audience chamber, Grandon mounted the steps of
the throne and faced them.
"My
friends," he began, "I have called you together, not merely to
congratulate you on your momentous, victory over those monsters who have, for centuries, oppressed you and your forefathers,
but also to make a few suggestions for your coming nation. For countless ages
you have been ruled by the sabits. From now on you will need a government of
your own. As you have no royal family you must choose your king. Let him be one
who has your interests at heart, one who has the ability and the will to carry
forward the great work which has only begun tonight. Whom will you have for
king?"
"Grandon
of Terra!" shouted a burly soldier, waving his sword aloft. Immediately
the cry was reechoed throughout the audience.
He held up his hand for silence, but many
minutes elapsed before the
tumult subsided. "I appreciate the honor," he said, "and regret
that I must decline it. It is of vital importance that the Princess of Reabon
be returned to her country and friends at once. Moreoever, my own kingdom of
Uxpo awaits its ruler.
"If you will permit me to make a
suggestion, I will name one who is admirably suited for the place. One who, by
his military genius, and training, his bravery and prowess as a soldier, has
already won a place at the head of your army. Let Joto
be your first king."
Joto
was not without considerable popularity, and so when Crandon led him up the
steps to the throne, there was a burst of cheering almost equal to that which
had followed the nomination of Grandon. Grandon took the crown of the ancient
Albine rulers, blew the dust of centuries from it, and placed it on the bared
head of the young commander.
"You
have elected me king," said Joto with his inevitable smile, "but king
of what? Just as truly as we were people without a country before our
deliverance, so now are we a country without a name. My first official act,
therefore, will be to name this nation Granterra, in grateful tribute to the
man who has made it possible."
There
was more cheering for Grandon, for Joto and for the newly-named nation. Then Joto, after making Oro commander, appointed the five
councilors who were to assist him, asking them to step forward as their names
were called. He named the four other captains and Tholto in order, but
Tholto failed to appear.
One
of the latter's lieutenants, on being questioned, stated that Tholto had left
him in command during the hottest fighting, and had departed with twenty men.
About this time Grandon recalled that he had not seen either Vernia or Rotha
since he left them at the foot of the stairway, and hastily sent a girl to the
women's quarters to ascertain if they were safe. Joto dispatched soldiers to
search all the underground passageways and rooms for the missing mojak and his
men.
While they were out, the
girl Grandon had sent returned with the news that neither Vernia nor Rotha had been seen since
morning.
In a
flash Grandon thought of the open door he had noticed while getting the
fighting machines; he rushed out of the audience chamber and along the
passageway which led to the armory. Joto, Oro and the more swift-footed among
the soldiers followed closely.
Quickly
springing the hidden catch, he ran down the steps and out on the docks where he
saw at a glance that one of the boats was missing.
"You
may as well call in your searchers, Joto," he said sadly. "They are
gone."
"But where—how?"
"This
stream leads out of the valley. They have disappeared. One of the boats is
missing. The conclusion is obvious. I must have twenty picked fighting men at
once, provisions, water, torches, and a mattork
cannon. And, Oro, get me one of those large • searchlights we took from the
airship. We will need it in these caverns. Hurry!"
While Grandon carefully examined the nearest
boat to
determine its seaworthiness, Joto rushed his men as they
had never been rushed before. Within a half hour the craft
was provisioned and fitted with searchlight and mattork,
while twenty of Granterra's brawniest fighting men stood
ready to man her. '..
Grandon
said good-by to Joto and turning to Oro, was surprised
to find him in an attitude of supplication.
"A boon, mighty Grandon of Terra,"
he pleaded.
"Gladly,
Oro, if within my power."
"Take me with
you."
"I
have twenty men already, and don't want to weight the boat unnecessarily.
Besides you are now commander-in-chief of Granterra's armies, and your duty
lies here. Why do you wish to leave?"
"Tholto
has stolen one who means more than life to me. I would rescue her or avenge her."
"You mean Rotha?"
Oro nodded.
"Ask King Joto. If you have his consent,
you may come."
"You
have my consent, Oro, and both of you my heartfelt wishes for your success,"
said Joto. "I will appoint a substitute for Oro while he is gone, and
will see that he is reinstated on his return."
The
soldiers took their places at the paddle holes, Oro was placed at the tiller,
and Grandon manned the searchlight on the forward deck. A hundred willing
hands pushed them off, and they forged swiftly ahead beneath the eroded
archways hung with glistening stalactities.
Grandon found Oro a skillful navigator and
his soldiers adept with the paddles. Joto had selected
them, not only for their fighting prowess, but also because they had previously
lived with their people in the great salt marsh where boats were a necessity
and every man proficient in their use.
The stream gradually widened as they
progressed, and often forked in numerous ramifications, flowing through a
labyrinth of arched caves for a distance, then uniting in a common channel
farther on. The waters and the banks on either side of them teemed with weird
subterranean life. Reptiles and animals of a thousand sizes and kinds swarmed
the banks, and glided through the water about the boat.
Once
they struck a huge saurian that nearly capsized their craft, but the creature
sank out of sight and did not offer to molest them. Grandon noticed one
peculiarity common to all, namely, that they were sightless, and paid no
attention to the searchlight. In fact, most of them were without even
rudimentary eyes, though a few had eye-sockets, and one or two boasted
antennaelike feelers sprouting from the head.
Upon rounding a sharp bend in the river they
suddenly heard a terrific roaring sound that totally obliterated the noise made
by the stream. Grandon flashed his light ahead to learn the
cause, then quickly ordered the paddlers to reverse, for direcdy ahead was a
solid wall of falling water that churned the stream into foam and sent clouds
of spray whirling toward them.
The momentum of the boat
carried them dangerously close before they could stop, but Oro veered to one
side, ramming the prow against the bank until the paddlers could make headway
against the current. When at a safe distance they turned and made for the first
fork, through which they found a safe passage around the falls.
That
the wall of water they had so narrowly escaped was the bottom of the whirlpool
in which the surface stream ended, Grandon could not doubt. He was therefore
able to determine their distance from the cliffs with reasonable certainty,
and calculated that within two hours at the most, they should be outside the
valley.
He
stood on the deck of the swiftly-gliding boat, turning his light this way and
that, watching the blind monsters, and did not see the crouching thing on the
top of the great overhanging shelf under which they must shortly pass— a thing
without eyes, but with nose and ears abnormally developed, a thing with great
cavernous jaws armed with a double row of razor-sharp teeth and with powerful
claws that could rend and tear the toughest saurians limb from limb.
It
was all over in an instant. Oro, looking ahead as they came under the overhanging
bank, saw a great, sinuous bulk shoot downward, sweeping Grandon from, the
narrow deck and into the dark depths below.
They stopped the boat and hung near the
"spot for more than an hour, hoping that Grandon might have broken away
from the monster, but saw only a few bubbles and something that looked like
blood, both of which quickly disappeared in the foaming current. Frantically
they sought him, making vain efforts to surmount the shelf and rescue their
commander. At last, they sadly resumed their journey.
CHAPTER
XV
For
several hours after
she was seized and bound by Tholto's men Vernia lay with Rotha in darkness in
the bottom of the boat. She could not see the members of the crew on either
side, though she heard the rhythmic strokes of the paddles and caught scraps of
the conversation.
Tholto
acted as helmsman, holding his torch aloft with one hand while he swung the
tiller with the other. From time to time she caught the glint of torchlight as
he stooped to issue hoarse commands.
It
was by sheer good luck that they happened on the channel which led them around
the column of falling water. Several hours after they passed the falls, the
interior of the boat was suddenly illuminated by daylight streaming through the
front and rear entrance holes. After another hour of paddling Tholto placed one
of his men at the helm and, untying the bonds of the two girls, put food and
water before them.
He watched them silently while they
drank—neither ate anything—then tied them once more and resumed his place on
deck. The man who had acted as steersman distributed food
and water to the others at their posts, half of the men paddling while the
other half ate and drank.
Some time later—Vemia judged it to be about
midday— the boat lurched violently, then settled down to a familiar, rolling
motion that vividly reminded her of hes trip with Grandon in the fragile
toadstool.
Toward evening Tholto ordered half of the men
on deck while the others redoubled their efforts at the paddles. In a few
moments the keel grated sharply on gravel and the lurching ceased. Tholto threw
Vernia over his shoulder as if she had been a sack of sabit food and carried her
up on the bank while another of the men followed with Rotha.
The
crew speedily unloaded, then dragged the lightened craft high on the bank. A fire was started in the lee of the
rocky cliffs, and two of the men who had gone in search of meat
returned with a large pink lizard which was cut up and Toasted over the flames.
The
cliff behind them was honeycombed with natural caves. Tholto chose the largest
and best situated of these for himself, the next best for his men.
While
the evening meal was being prepared, moss was
gathered for couches by some, while others went in search of roots to make
Zavorian wine. When the men had eaten
their fill Tholto undid the bonds of both girls and ordered them to serve the kova. For cups they were provided with the
shells of large bivalves. Rotha complied meekly, but Vernia refused with flashing eyes.
Tholto
laughed. "I will tame you. Your lessons will start tonight."
Binding her hands and' feet once more,
despite her struggles, he carried her into the dark cave and threw her on the
floor.
"Now lie there and reflect on the folly of resistance. Much good wine is being
consumed, and I would not miss it. I will return presently, and if you so much as utter a whisper of protest you
will learn why strong men fear the wrath of Tholto."
Many of the marsh-men had not tasted liquor
for years, each man's abstinence dating from the time he had been captured by
sabits. Small wonder, then, that they called for more and more. Tholto might
have drunk to excess with the rest, had not other pleasures
beckoned. As it was, he took only enough to intoxicate him slightly, then walked unsteadily into the cave where he had left
Vernia bound and helpless.
Grandon's left arm was pinned to his body in
the grip of powerful jaws that would have cut him in two had it not been for
his armor, but the right arm was freej and drawing bis sword, he plunged it
again and'again into the leathery throat.
He
held his breath until it seemed that his lungs would burst, but the pressure of
those jaws did not relax, and he prayed that his blade might find a vital spot
before it was too late.
To
his surprise, the water suddenly drained from his helmet and he tasted air. It
was dank, foul air, charged with the offensive odor of putrefied flesh, but at
that moment as welcome to his bursting lungs as a balmy, sweet-scented zephyr
from a fern forest.
The
monster ground its teeth ineffectually against Gran-don's armor for a moment, then
dropped him on a slimy floor and, putting its huge claw on his chest, gave vent
to a horrible, gurgling roar.
The creature continued its disconsolate
roaring, which was intensified a hundredfold by ringing, cavernous echoes, and
Grandon noticed that with each roar the gurgling sound seemed more pronounced
and the vocal tones grew weaker. Slowly the weight on his chest relaxed—slowly
the creature sunk over on its side.
With a quick jerk he rolled from under the
mighty claw in time to avoid the convulsive death struggles of the monster.
Taking his small flashlight from its pouch,
Grandon surveyed the scene about him.
The
lair of the great sightless carnivore was an arched cavern which ended at the
water's edge in front of him and appeared to connect with a series of other
caverns behind. As it was impossible for him to return under water the way he
had come, Grandon turned his footsteps toward the caverns in the rear.
As he journeyed on and on through that
intricate maze of dark, damp, dismal caves, it seemed that they only led him
deeper into the bowels of the planet. Moisture dripped constandy from a
thousand pendent, crystalline points overhead; presently, however, the floor
slanted upward, the dripping ceased, and the puddles disappeared.
Quite suddenly and unexpectedly he emerged on
the bank of a large stream. It looked like the one in which he had been plunged some time before,
but he could not be certain.
What
was that? Could it be that he saw a human being moving slowly along the bank,
apparently plucking and eating small fungus growths? And there, farther on, was
another, and yet another, until only a short distance from where he stood the
bank literally swarmed with them.
The
creatures paid no attention whatever to his flashlight. He turned it directly
on the one nearest him and gasped in astonishment. It was manlike in form, but
a grotesque caricature of the genus homo. It had long, bony webbed fingers and
toes armed with sharp claws. The smooth, hairless skin was a mottled silvery
gray in color, like that of a mackerel. But the face—Grandon was positive he
had never seen anything so hideous in all his Zarovian wanderings.
It
consisted, in front, of a broad, flat nose, and a mouth filled with huge
ratlike teeth, and was minus chin, eyes or forehead. The hairless pate slanted
straight back from the root of the nose and up from the base of the neck,
ending in a conical point at the back. The ears were human in form, but easily
four times as large as the aural appendages of any man Grandon had ever seen,
and the'creature kept them constantly in motion, presumably for the purpose of
guarding against prowling enemies, or locating prey which it obviously could
not see.
A stealthy sound behind him caused Grandon to
wheel suddenly. There, not three feet from him, stood a creature similar to the
one he had been watching. It sniffed the air in his direction for a moment with
ears cocked sharply forward, then raised its head and uttered a long,
mournful, wailing shriek.
Before
he could sense the import of that cry he was surrounded by a chattering,
excited group of creatures, seemingly materialized
from the darkness around him. Grandon drew his sword and awaited the first act
of hostility from that narrowing circle.
To his surprise, they made no move to attack
him, but seemed only curious. One, a trifle bolder than the rest, reached out
long bony fingers and touched his armor, then made a queer, cackling noise.
Others, emboldened by the experiment of their comrade, pawed him over in turn,
while the caverns rang with the echoes of their cackling.
Grandon
grew tired of being manhandled, and attempted to push the things away from him
with outstretched arms. They were apparentiy harmless, and he had not the heart
to use his sword on them. He learned his mistake too late, for they took this
movement as a sign of hostility, and a dozen of them pounced on him, bearing
him to the floor, where, pinned beneath their combined weight, he could
scarcely lift a finger.
Then, above the shrieking and chattering of
his captors, he heard the familiar click of paddles against the metal sides of
a boat. A bright beam of light flashed over him.
"Orol"
he shouted at the top of his voice. "To the rescue,
Oro!"
Once more the rays of the searchlight played
on the struggling mass of creatures. It hung there. A hoarse command sounded
simultaneously with the noise of hollow metal scraping on stone. Then there was
the clank of armored men running, followed by the sound of blows and unearthly
shrieks of anguish. Two stalwart marsh-men helped Grandon to his feet as the
last of his captors fled off, howling in dismay.
There was a brief but joyous reunion of
commander and men on the bank, which was rudely broken into by a shower of
missiles from out of the darkness, hurled with uncanny accuracy. Nearly every
man in the company was struck, and several were bowled over, though their armor
protected them from serious injury.
Grandon ordered everyone aboard, as he had no
stomach for useless slaughter, and felt pity rather than animosity toward the
sightless, feeble-minded creatures that had attacked him.
For
some time after they pushed away from the shore, stones continued to rattle
against the boat and splash in the water about it, but on rounding a curve in
the stream the shower of missiles ceased and they saw no more of the strange
creatures who hurled them.
An
hour later they emerged from beneath a perpendicular cliff into broad daylight,
shot -a swift rapids, and proceeded on a beautiful, sparkling
stream, dotted with verdant islets and flanked on either side by the great salt
marshes.
The
ocean breeze kept cane brakes constantly in motion, producing an odd, rattling
sound that had a peculiar, depressing effect on Grandon. It seemed that these
weeds were conspiring against him as other forces had conspired, to keep Vernia
from him. It was a relief when, toward evening, they jeached the ocean coast
and landed for a short time to give the men a chance to stretch their cramped
muscles and steep some liquor.
While they built a fire of dried reeds and
prepared the roots, Grandon and Oro explored the coast for some distance
southward without finding any sign of those whom they sought. They accordingly
had four of the men paddle them across the mouth of the river and traversed the
coastline to the north for several miles. Both were hurrying along, looking for
signs of a camp or a cooking fire, when the sharp-eyed Oro suddenly uttered an
exclamation of surprise and ran down to the water's edge. Lying on the sand
where it had been deposited by the breakers was an empty food sack.
"They came this way in the boat,"
he exclaimed.
They
hurried back to the camp, and, after a hasty meal, embarked northward. The sudden,
inky darkness of Venus descended before they had gone far, and the wind rose,
making coastwise travel exceedingly difficult. Toward midnight they sighted a
flickering light ahead. On coming closer they saw a large campfire surrounded
by recumbent figures and, in silhouette, the curved, serpentine prow of an
Albine boat.
After
silently beaching their craft a little way from the camp, they deployed in a
semicircle, then charged. To their infinite surprise
they met with no resistance. The twenty sleeping men on the ground about the
fire did not move a muscle.
Oro
comprehended the situation at a glance. "Too much
kova."
"But
the girls," asked Grandon, "where are they? And where is
Tholto?"
His
question was partly answered by the sudden appearance of Rotha from the
entrance of a nearby cave. With a smothered cry of thanksgiving she flung
herself into the strong arms of Oro, who swung her off her feet in his
exuberance of joy.
"Where
is Vernia?" asked Grandon. "Tell me quickly— is she safe?"
Rotha hesitated as if fearful that he would
strike her for her answer. "She is in that cave—with Tholto."
The
cave she indicated was a short distance from the one she had just vacated.
Grandon swung his spiked club free and, snatching a blazing brand from the
fire, entered, followed by Oro and several others.
A solitary figure sat, cross-legged in the
middle of the floor. It was Tholto. He waited their coming with bowed head.
"What
have you done with her, false friend?" demanded Grandon.
Tholto removed his helmet and cast it to the
floor.
"Kill
me, Grandon of Terra," he said sadly, in a tone totally unlike that of
Tholto the braggart. "I bare my head to a just executioner. I am not fit
to live."
"Answer
my question, accursed slave. Where is our Torrogina?"
"I
do not know. I left her here for a short time while I went for a drink or two
of wine. When I returned she was gone. My head was reeling from the drink when
I entered. Many years have passed since I tasted liquor and I overestimated my
capacity. I sank to the floor and dreamed a horrible dream in which I saw her
torn to pieces by a huge animal. She is dead—dead, and I am the cause."
"The
fool is drunk," said Oro. "Pay no attention to his ravings. She is
probably concealed somewhere nearby."
After
binding Tholto and setting' a man to guard him, they searched the cave, calling
loudly to Vemia, but there was no reply. Rotha was positive that she had not
left the cave previous to Tholto's entrance, as the mouth was only a few steps
from the place where she had served drinks to the men, and she could not have
missed seeing her.
Grandon's attention was attracted by a
yawning hole about three feet in diameter, which had previously escaped his
observation, as it was partly concealed by a section of jutting rock. He substituted a torch for the nearly
consumed fire brand and entered on hands and knees followed by Oro. The opening
grew larger as they progressed, until they could stand erect.
Presently
they emerged in the open air. They were in a fern forest, not more than a
hundred feet from the camp, having come completely through the hill that
screened it from the coast.
Oro stooped and, with a muttered,
exclamation, picked up some strips which had been torn from a sack and knotted
together.
"She
came this way," he said, excitedly, "for here are the strips with
which Tholto bound her."
His
words were followed by a cry of horror from Gran-don which brought Oro to his
side.
"The dream of Tholto," he said,
brokenly. "It is a reality. Lookl"
On the ground before them was a pool of
freshly congealed blood. Beside it lay a small Albine
gauntlet—the gauntlet of Vernial
As
Grandon sorrowfully retraced his steps followed by the horrified Oro, he
pressed the little Albine gaundet to his hps. With a dazed feeling of unreality
he sat down
before the fire. All night long he sat there, staring at the licking flames,
unmindful of what went on around him.
Tholto
and his stupefied companions, disarmed and bound by Grandon's men, lay in a
long row under the watchful eyes of four guards. The others slept, with the
exception of Oro, who sat across the fire with Rotha, replenishing it from time
to time. The two conversed in awed whispers, speculating on the possible fate
of the culprits.
The
dawn found Grandon gazing at a heap of smoking embers. His four weary guards
wakened their slumbering companions and lay down for a well-earned rest. The
stupefied drinkers slept on, oblivious of the sounds that went on about them,
as the awakened men prepared the simple breakfast of hot roots and stewed
mushrooms.
Marsh-men
are expert fishermen, and four of them rigged some crude but efficient tackle
by tearing up several food sacks for line, using thorns for hooks and stones
for sinkers. They fished along the shore only a few yards from the camp and
soon had caught more than the entire company could possibly eat. The fish were
boiled in the same manner as the roots and mushrooms, and made a most pleasing
addition to the morning meal.
When
all was ready, Oro fearfully approached his young commander with a shell of
steaming roots, another of mushrooms, and a toothsome fish. Mechanically,
Grandon took the food and tried to eat, but it seemed that every morsel choked him.
He rose unsteadily to his feet, as his legs were cramped and numb.
Grandon
walked straight to where Tholto lay,, bound and
helpless. He called two of the men. "Remove his armor," he said
curtly.
The command was obeyed with celerity, while
the soldiers crowded around to see how the culprit was to be punished. When
his armor was removed the prisoner stood silently, almost impassively, waiting
his death sentence.
"I
should kill you, Tholto," said Grandon, "yet I cannot bring myself to
slay a helpless prisoner. You have proved yourself a man without a sense of
honor or gratitude. As such, you are not fit to wear the armor or bear the
weapons of a soldier of Granterra. I found you a naked, primitive savage, and
return you thus to your native jungle. You will have a fighting chance for
life. It is a slender one, but must be preferable to immediate death from your
point of view. Go!"
Tholto,
no less amazed than those about him at this unexpected reprieve, climbed the
rugged hillside and disappeared over the brow.
Meanwhile,
most of the sleeping deserters had awakened. They looked about them in
astonishment, and several tried unsuccessfully to rise, but the bonds held
them.
"Are we to let them
go, also?" asked Oro.
"Cut
their bonds, and see that all are thoroughly awakened."
The men were forthwith released, and the more
drowsy were shaken until completely awake, after which they all stood before
him, the deserters unarmed, surrounded by the others.
"I extend complete amnesty to you who
forsook your country in its hour of need, following the leadership of Tholto,
on one condition. That is, that you promise to return at once to Granterra,
tell Joto all that has happened, and enlist your services with those who are
fighting for the supremacy of man in the Valley of the Sabits. Do you
promise?"
To a man they assented
eagerly.
"Give
them their weapons and provisions," ordered Gran-don. "Let them begin
their journey now."
The craft was quickly loaded and pushed out
to sea. When it had departed Grandon called his men around him once more.
"The
quest that we began with some scant hope of success has ended in complete
failure," he said sadly. "Last night when I learned of the death of
our beloved princess I was ready and willing to die. One thought alone
restrained me. I have a duty to perform. Far to the north of
us five a people who have been enslaved and driven from their homes
without" just cause. They made me prince of their country, which
they call Uxpo, and I fought in their behalf until Providence intervened and
carried me away through a series of strange adventures. I cannot command you to
accompany me on the journey I will begin today. Nor will I entreat you. If
there be those among you who love adventure for its own sake, I extend the
invitation to come with me and share the fortunes, or mayhap, the misfortunes
of war. I make no promises, nor do I offer any rewards, though if Uxpo should
win to freedom those who assisted in her deliverance will not go unremembered."
Oro
was the first to speak. "Where Crandon of Terra leads, Oro follows,"
he said warmly.
"He
fought for the freedom of our country," said another. "I am at your
service, Grandon of Terra."
"And I—and I . . ." shouted the
others in a chorus. "Lead us to Uxpo."
"Load the boat and make ready to push
off," said Grandon. "We will start at once. Some three or four days'
journey from here a great river empties into the Azpok. By following it we will
come to Uxpo."
CHAPTER XVI
Prince
Destho, now provisional emperor of Reabon, moved
his slender, leonine form to a more comfortable position on the scarlet
cushions of his throne and turned his countenance in the direction of Zueppa,
as he smiled a doubting smile.
"Do
you expect me to believe such a wild tale as this, knave?" he growled.
"Authentic reports had it that she and her four guards were devoured by a
reptile nearly a year ago."
"I
swear by the sacred bones of Thorth that it is she and none other. Having seen
her daily at the Imperial Court of Reabon, how could I forget her?"
"Granted
that the woman you found resembles the Princess of Reabon, how could it be
possible that if lost in the mountains of Uxpo she would be discovered
wandering on the edge of the great salt marsh along the Azpok Ocean?"
"I
can only recount the facts, your majesty, and let your own eyes bear me witness
when you see her. We were just preparing for our evening meal when this girl
suddenly appeared from the mouth of a nearby cave. At sight of the men and
torches she turned and attempted to escape, but tripped over a creeper apd two
of our men caught her before she could rise. As she was clad from head to foot
in shining brown armor, I at first took her for a youth, but upon removing her
helmet, discovered her identity, while concealing my own. After ordering the
captain to bring her here unharmed, I hurried ahead to apprise
your majesty of the good news."
"Do any of the men
know who she is?"
"None
recognized her, and I was careful not to betray her identity until I had
learned your majesty's intentions."
"You
have done welL Zueppa, and if she proves to be Vernia of Reabon you shall be
highly rewarded. She must not, however, be brought here to the capital. The
risk would be too great. Take her, instead, to my castle in my own kingdom,
where every man is loyal to me, and where escape will be. impossible.
Matters of state delay me here, but I will be able to visit my castle in a few
days. Take one of my swiftest motor vehicles and change the guard at the
International Bridge before her arrival, posting only men from my own
kingdom."
That
evening, while Zueppa sipped his wine in the guard house at the international
bridge, a small party of huntsmen arrived and presented their passports. With
them were two prisoners, a beautiful girl clad in brown armor, and a huge,
hairy marsh-man, whose sole article of attire was a loin cloth.
The young captain, after examining the
passports of the
huntsmen,
looked at the prisoners. "And who are these?" Vemia threw back her
visor.
"The
soldiers of Reabon do not question their rulers," she said.
The
captain stared in open-mouthed amazement, then turned
to a soldier who came up behind him.
"A striking resemblance to our
princess," he muttered.
"She is an impostor," said the
soldier. "Were we not warned of her coming?"
Vemia
glanced imperiously at the two men before her. "Have you forgotten the
homage due your princess? Procure me a fast motor vehicle at once and have
done with your insolence if you would see the light of another day."
Both
men quickly bowed, with right hand extended, palm downward. Then a figure
darted swifdy up behind them and kicked the bowing captain over on his face. In
a flash Vemia recognized Zueppa.
"How
now, idiots?" he shouted. "You were warned by our worthy soveriegn,
Destho, yet you make obeisance before this impostor. Seize and bind her as you
were ordered."
With
a growl of fury, the hairy marsh-man leaped for the wily commander, but a score
of soldiers rushed in and soon had him bound and helpless.
"Where
did you get this brute, huntsmen?" asked Zueppa,
looking at the still-struggling marsh-man.
"We eaptured him in the woods as he tried to steal our prisoner
from us."
"Bring
him to the castle of Prince Destho," he commanded. Then he lifted Vernia
into his swift motor vehicle and sped away.
Some
hours later the vehicle drew up before a massive gate. Zueppa answered the
challenge of the guard and the lifting motors hummed sonorously. Vemia, half
fainting, was taken from the vehicle and carried through a low arched doorway
and along a dimly lighted corridor to a sparsely furnished suite of rooms where
she was given over to the none-too-tender care of a tall, gaunt female slave.
The slave carefully locked the Steel door and
put the key in her belt pouch. For the first time in
history, a ruler of Reabon was a prisoner within the borders of the empire.
On the evening of the sixth day, Vernia lay face downward on her couch when footsteps sounded in
the corridor. Her armor and hunting suit had been taken from her and replaced
with the scarlet apparel of a princess. She sat up as a man entered—Prince
Destho.
"Greetings,
fair cousin," he said, placing a tray before her and locking the door.
Destho had always been handsome in a flashy sort of way. Now as he stood in the
gold and scarlet raiment of a rogi of Reabon, Vernia "marveled at the
change in his bearing:
"Your insolence is in
keeping with your treason," she said.
"A
thousand pardons if I have offended you, but I could not properly make
obeisance in your presence, since our positions are reversed. Last year, you
ruled supreme in Reabon; today I rule. I expect from you the deference due your
sovereign."
"Expectation is far
from realization," she replied.
"We
shall see. There are ways of taming a proud spirit which may not have occurred
to you—but pray do not force me to speak of them. I have come to offer you a
pleasant and honorable way out of your difficulty."
"which
is... r
"It
would have been easy to kill you, you know. My associates urged that course,
but I would not listen to them. The throne was my ambition, but I sought more
than that—to wed the most beautiful woman in all Zarovia." He raised his
hand.. "Hear me out, fair cousin; you cannot
reverse history now. In ten days I will be Emperor of Reabon, while you are an
expatriate. You know the laws that bind even the supreme ruler. The expatriate
is an outcast, subject to seizure as a slave by the first free citizen who
discovers him—or her. I would save you from that indignity."
"And what is this pleasant and honorable
way out of the difficulty?"
"A marriage to your future emperor before the ten days are
up. I will make you my empress, and together we will rule the mightiest empire
in all Zarovia."
"So
you would return the half of my birthright in exchange for my hand in
marriage. It is a most magnanimous offer."
"It
is far from being the worst I could make you. Where, on all Zarovia, could you
find a man better suited to be your mate? My royal blood is on a par with
yours. My bravery has been proved by the very coup that has placed you in my
power. As for my looks, I assure you there are a thousand beautiful damsels who
do not think me unhandsome and would jump at the offer I am making you."
"Your
royal blood is an accident of birth, and your bravery is that of a man who
seeks combat with those weaker than himself. I spurn your offer, traitor
Destho. Pray, leave me now. Spare me the further insult of your insufferable
presence."
Destho
cleared the space between them and seized her roughly by the shoulders, forcing
her back on the scarlet couch. "Take heed, lest the insult of my presence
become a reality. I could . . ."
His words were cut short by the thunder of a
heavy fist on the steel door. Furiously, he released the half-fainting girl and
answered the summons, opening the door but a little way.
"How,
now, Zueppa?" he demanded angrily. "What is the meaning of this
intrusion? Did I not give you explicit orders not to disturb me for other than
the most urgent business?"
"It is because of your highness's
command that I have come. A messenger has just arrived with startling news of a
revolt in the kingdom of Uxpo. He awaits your presence in the audience
chamber."
"Another revolt in Uxpo? By the bones of ThorthI Will that kingdom never cease to trouble us?"
He
turned to Vernia. "I regret that I must leave you thus hastily, fair
cousin, but I will return presently to continue our
interesting discussion."
He
bowed sardonically from the doorway, then closed and locked the door after him.
Vernia heard the retreating footsteps of the two men grow fainter in the
corridor, finally dying away in the distance. She sank back on the couch.
She had heard the conversation of the two
men, but, at first, placed no significance on the fact that there had been
another revolution in Uxpo. Gradually, however, it came to her that there could
be but one man with the ability to lead the Uxponians to a successful
revolt—Grandon of Terra!
Some
time later the gaunt slave woman came in to remove the dishes containing her
untouched meal. Though she had always been sullenly taciturn in the past,
Vernia resolved to question her.
"Have you heard aught of a revolt in
Uxpo, Marsa?" she asked.
The sour features of the woman brightened
perceptibly.
"It
is the talk of the casde," she replied. "The capital has fallen into
the hands of the Fighting Traveks and every Reabonian soldier has been killed,
captured or driven from the kingdom."
"You
seem elated at the news," said Vernia, noting the unusually cheerful
demeanor of her custodian.
"And well I may be," she answered,
"for I am of Uxpo. I was captured and brought here a slave by the
armies of your father, Emperor Margo. These are the most glorious tidings I
have heard in years."
"No
doubt the revolt was led by Bordeen, commander of the Fighting Traveks,"
said Vernia in as casual a manner as she could assume.
"By
Bordeen, say you? Hardly, though no doubt he took part in it. Prince Thaddor,
who now calls himself Grandon of Terra, reappeared as suddenly and mysteriously
as he disappeared nearly a year ago. It is said that he wears a suit of brown
armor that will turn even a mattork projectile and carries weapons of the same
strange metal, which cuts steel as easily as a scarbo's blade cuts wood. Report
has it, also, that he brought with him a bodyguard of twenty men from a far
country, similarly garbed and armed. And I understand that yesterday he was
formally crowned King of Uxpo."
"Would you be willing, Marsa, to do a favor for Grandon of Terra,
the savior of Uxpo, if the opportunity offered?"
"I
would willingly risk my life for him, even as he has risked his for my beloved
country," replied Marsa fervently.
"And
would you be averse to performing the task if it favored me as well?"
The brow of Marsa clouded. "You have
always been the most bitter enemy of Uxpo. My husband
was slain by your father's soldiers and I was enslaved by them. You, in turn,
twice led your armies into Uxpo for conquest and pillage. You ordered the
execution of our valiant King Lugi and sent Prince Thaddor himself to wear his
life away in the marble quarries. A favor to you could not possibly be a favor
to the King of Uxpo."
She took up the tray and
turned to go.
"One
moment, Marsa," entreated Vemia. "There is reason and justice in what
you say; nevertheless, I am sure I can convince you that you will favor Grandon
of Terra by assisting me."
Marsa paused. At length she said: "I
must go now, but I will return presently. There can be no harm in
listening."
"Return
as soon as possible," replied Vemia as the slave inserted the key in the
lock, "or you may be too late."
The
dreary minutes dragged into hours, and hope was fast falling when footsteps
sounded in the corridor and a key rattled in the lock. Vemia rose and moved
toward the door with hope renewed—then paused in alarm—for the doorway framed
the burly figure of Zueppa. To her surprise, he bowed low with right hand
extended palm downward, then paused respectfully,
waiting for her to speak.
"What
spirit of irony brings you to make mock-obeisance at this unseemly hour?"
asked Vemia.
"I come not in irony,
your majesty," replied Zueppa, "but in all humility to crave forgiveness for the
great wrong I have done my sovereign, and to offer my services."
"You could not choose a more fitting
time for such an offer—and if it be genuine, for full forgiveness and perhaps
an additional reward, should it be merited."
Zueppa softly closed the door.
"I betray a secret that would forfeit my
life if divulged in this casde, when I tell you that I am in sympathy with
Uxpo. Though my father was a Reabonian noble, my mother was from Uxpo, and it
was with her and with her country that my sympathies always lay. One in this
castle who is loyal to Uxpo had enlisted me in your cause. When you were my
country's most bitter enemy, I plotted your downfall. But Prince Destho, has
become even a worse enemy to Uxpo than you were, and now that the conditions
are reversed I am willing to change my position for a royal promise—the sole
conditions to be, first, a proclamation freeing my countrymen, and second, a
pardon for myself."
"I have already
promised another to free Uxpo," replied Vernia, "and I willingly add
to it the promise of complete and unconditional pardon for you if you can do
one of two things—either arrange my escape to Reabon before my year is up, or
immediately send a message to Crandon of Terra, in order that he may come to my
rescue."
"I had already thought
of the former plan," said Zueppan "and made some preparations for it.
I will leave now and send Marsa to you with clothing in which you will pass for
a casde slave. When all is quiet I will return and conduct you through a secret
passageway to a place outside the castle where I keep a swift motor vehicle. We
will thus be able to reach the capital by morning."
"And Tholto, the
marsh-man. I
would have him released also."
"Tholto escaped from
our guards as they were bringing him to the castle. No doubt he is back in his
native haunts by now."
As he bowed low and departed, hope rose in
the bosom of Vernia.
After Zueppa closed and carefully locked the
door of her chamber, he made straight for the quarters of the slaves, but his
way was blocked by a castle guard before he had gone a dozen steps.
"Out
of my way, fellow," he roared, expecting cringing obedience.
The
soldier met his frown calmly. "His Highness, Prince Destho, commands your
immediate presence in the audience ,chamber."
Zueppa
turned, without a word, and followed the guard. "It is the end," he
thought. "Our plot has been discovered." In spite of his misgiving,
however, he proceeded serenely to the foot of the throne and made obeisance. To
his surprise, Destho received him cordially, descending from the dais to take
him by the hand.
"Come,
let us walk in the garden, excellent Zueppa," he said. "I would
confer with you about our plans for the recapture of Uxpo. The stuffy air of
the castle fogs my brain."
"I
should be happy to learn," said Zueppa, preceding Prince Destho into the
garden, "that your highness favorably considers my admonition to abandon
the reconquest of Uxpo until established firmly on the throne. Much can happen
in a short time, and it is possible . . ."
His
words ended in a gasp of pain. Moaning feebly, he slumped to the ground, as a
dagger sank to the hilt in his back. Destho tore the weapon from the wound and
calmly wiped it on the clothing of the prostrate man.
"Thus should all traitors die. I have been lenient with you, after all, for you are a
double traitor; first to your princess, then to me."
He turned and entered the castle. On reaching
the audience chamber he summoned the captain of the castle guards.
"Has Marsa been
confined in the dungeon?" he asked.
"She
has, your highness, with heavy manacles and the spiked collar about her neck as
directed."
He dismissed the captain with a nod, then picked up a long, flexible tube, one end of which passed
into the floor behind the throne. On the free end was a bell-shaped contrivance
which he held to his ear. He listened intently for some time, then smiled grimly, as he heard the sound of subdued
sobbing.
The
tube connected with a sound amplifier which was concealed behind a grating in
the room where Vemia was imprisoned.
The plans of Prince Destho for the reconquest
of Uxpo were materializing rapidly, as he breakfasted leisurely in the throne
room of his castle several days later. He had sent no less than fifty hired
assassins to slay Crandon, and, if this failed, had a huge army of thirty
thousand men assembled in and around his stronghold, ready to march on the
rebellious kingdom.
A
courier, dusty and bedraggled was hurried before the throne.
"How
now, Torbo?" asked Destho,, glancing down at the
courier. "What tidings from Uxpo?"
"Grandon
of Terra has been slain and his body lies in state at the royal palace!"
"Great
news, if true. Who
slew him?"
"I do not know, but it is rumored that
the men who succeeded in the attempt were, themselves, slain."
"Did you see the
body?"
"I
did, your majesty, and the features were'so horribly mutilated as to be
unrecognizable. I also regret to inform your majesty that your chief assassin,
Malcabar, was slain yesterday morning."
Destho turned to his councillors. "We
will not disband our army yet," he said. "I must have a further
confirmation of this."
A
few minutes later, two of the castle guards entered, ushering between them a
tall, bearded man in the uniform of a soldier of Reabon. All three made the
customary salute before the throne, then they rose, and the two guards stepped
back, leaving the tall soldier in the center of the floor.
"Whom have we here?" asked Destho, addressing one of the
guards.
"His
papers proclaim him one Xantol of Uxpo, resident helper of the spy, Malcabar,
and a bearer of tidings for your highness."
Destho
looked long and appraisingly at the soldier. It seemed that those black eyes
were searching the usurper's very soul.
'Tour tidings,
Xantol," snapped Destho.
"I have been sent to inform your
highness of a rumor being circulated in Uxpo, to the effect that Grandon of
Terra has been slain."
"A rumor, say you? You bring us stale news, fellow. We have
already been apprised that the villainous imposter is dead and that his
mutilated body lies in state in the palace."
Destho
turned to the guard. "Who signed this man's papers?"
"They are signed by Malcabar."
"By
Malcabar? Let
me see them."
He
examined the papers carefully. "The writing and signature seem
genuine," he said. "Send for that courier againl"
As
Torbo reentered, bowing low, Destho snarled: "Sol You
found it expedient to he to me, Torbo!"
"I—he
to your highness?" exclaimed Torbo in surprise. "Surely it pleases
your highness to jest with his humble servant."
"You
told me Malcabar was slain yesterday morning. I have here a letter, written and
signed by him last evening. Can the dead write letters?"
"If
you have a letter from Malcabar, then indeed can the dead write letters, for I
swear by the bones of Thorth that I saw him lead the attack on the usurper
yesterday morning and a huge armored guard clove him from crown to
chin."
Destho looked searchingly from Torbo to the soldier, and from the soldier back to Torbo.
"One of you lies, that is certain," he said, "and you may rest assured, both of you, that the guilty
man will be discovered and dealt with for his perfidy."
"May I ask who brought
the letter?" asked Torbo.
"I brought the
letter," replied the soldier.
"And who are you?"
"Xantol of Uxpo,
resident helper of Malcabar."
Torbo
flushed angrily. "This man lies," he said. "Malcabar had no
Uxponian helpers. All were men of Reabon, and all died with him yesterday
morning."
"You
were acquainted with Malcabar's assistants?" asked Destho.-
"Every
one of them."
"And you have never
seen this man before?"
"I
have seen him somewhere," replied Torbo, knitting his brows. "His
face is familiar yet unfamiliar." He approached the soldier and scanned
his features carefully. Then he burst into a loud laugh.
"Shoot
me for a hahoe if this man wears not a false beard," he said, and to prove
his statement he suddenly-reached forward and plucked a handful of hair from
the man's face.
The Uxponian whipped out his scarbo, but
strong arms pinioned his own from behind, and, in a moment, he was deprived of
his blade and stood helpless in the grip of the two burly guards.
"Pluck a few more feathers from this
bird and see if you can identify him," said Destho.
"That is unnecessary," replied
Torbo, "for I have recognized him already. He is Grandon of Terra!"
Had
a thunderbolt crashed through the arched ceiling at that moment it could hardly
have created more surprise. Destho was dumbfounded.
"Grandon
of Terra?" he exclaimed. "But you told me that he was dead."
"I did not tell you that I saw him
die," replied Torbo, "and this man here is unquestionably Grandon of
Terra."
A
gleam of triumph shone in the eyes of Destho at these words.
"You are more of a fool than I took you
to be, Grandon of Terra," he said. "Perhaps even more of a fool than
you took me for."
"It
is possible that I surpass you in folly. You have, however, two other
qualities on which I must yield you all honors."
"And those are . . ."
"Treachery and
cowardicel"
"Away
with him," Destho said. "Let him meditate on his folly in the
darkness of the dungeon until we have use for him."
The
burly guards hustled Grandon out of a side door and along a narrow passage to a
winding stairway which seemed to lead into the very towels of the planet, so
long were they in descending. After manacling his wrists and ankles they pushed
him into a dark, foul-smelling hole and slammed and fastened a heavy metal door
which fitted so snugly that not the tiniest ray of fight was admitted.
As
he lay on the damp, slimy floor, Grandon pondered the words of Destho. The
phrase "until we have use for him" was puzzling. After a short
interval, two guards entered Grandon's dungeon, removed the manacles from his
ankles, and led him up the spiral stairway.
They
did not go all the way to the top, but turned off through a narrow doorway
which Grandon judged to be about halfway to the ground level. A short walk
along a dimly-lighted passage brought them to an underground chamber which
looked to Grandon like a workshop or laboratory of some sort, for it contained
several unusual appearing contrivances.
In one corner was a raised circular platform
covered with a resilient material greatly resembling rubber. He noticed that
there was a hole in the center of the platform, and that a pipe, evidendy
connected with the hole, led from under it to a small motor which stood nearby.
A huge glass bell was suspended by a pulley above the platform and a steel
chair stood beside it. The only other articles of furniture in the room were a
wooden chair and table on which were writing materials.
The two guards chained Grandon to the steel
chair and, lifting him between them, placed him on the raised platform direcdy
above the hole.
A
moment later Destho entered. He looked at Grandon with a grim smile. Then he
turned to the nearest guard.
"I
see you have things in readiness. Now bring her imperial majesty and see that
her face be veiled so that none may recognize her on the way."
Scarce
had the guard left to do the bidding of his master ere Bopo, captain of
Destho's private guards, entered. "Where is the
document, dolt?" demanded Destho. "Have failed to prepare it?"
"Here,"
replied Bopo, drawing a scroll from beneath his garments. "I kept it hid,
as your majesty commanded secrecy in the matter."
"Good.
Let me have it."
Destho
read the document hastily. Then he read it again more slowly.
"Are
you sure this is the correct legal form?" "I am positive, your
majesty."
Destho
placed the scroll on the table, then crossed the room and bowed politely as the
guard returned, leading a woman whose face was heavily veiled.
Suddenly
she flung back her veil and rushed forward with a little smothered cry, paying
no attention whatever to Destho. Grandon's heart leaped to his throat at sight
of her pale face and golden tresses.
"Vemial"
He would have risen, but the chains held him.
"My Grandon—my hero I" she cried as
her lips found his and clung there, and her arms went about his neck. He tried
to lift his manacled.hands to smooth her hair as she buried her face on his
shoulder, sobbing incoherently.
"But
why did you come here alone—to certain death?"
Grandon
whispered his answer in her ear. "Zueppa, though fearfully wounded,
managed to reach me with tidings of your whereabouts. It would have been futile
to bring my small army, so I came alone, disguised as the helper of an assassin
who attempted my life.l"
"Enough
of this whispering!" said Destho, smiling as he tore her from her lover
and led her to the chair beside the table.
"A
pleasant surprise I 'prepared for you, fair cousin, was it not?" Destho
said. "You have had your little emotional outburst. Now let us get down to
business. I have a document here which needs only your signature to make it
legal. Read it aloud, Bopo, that all may hear and bear witness."
Bopo took the scroll and advanced pompously
to the center of the floor. He unrolled it with a flourish, cleared his throat,
and read:
" 'A
proclamation by her imperial majesty, Vemia, Princess of Reabon:
'On
the twenty-fourth day of the eighth Endir in the four thousand and tenth year
of Thorth, I, Vemia of Reabon, hereby proclaim and declare to all my subjects
throughout the length and breadth of the empire that I have taken for my
husband, and raised to the office of emperor, to rule over me and my people,
the brave and illustrious Prince Destho.
'It is my command that copies of this
proclamation be made and distributed to all parts of the empire without delay,
and that the fifth day of the ninth Endir be set aside as a day for feasting
and suitable celebration in honor of this momentous event.' "
He
finished and handed the scroll to Destho, who spread it on the table before
Vemia.
She
looked up with flashing eyes. "Surely you do not expect me to sign such a
ridiculous document?"
"You refuse?"
For answer she seized it
and flung it from her.
"More
temperament," said Destho, coolly, picking up the scroll. "You compel
me to use persuasion."
He
made a sign to the guard, who grinned broadly and, loosing the chain by which
the glass bell was suspended, lowered it until it rested firmly on the elastic
edges of the platform where Grandon sat, calm and immobile in the iron chair.
"It is plainly evident," said
Destho, "that you have some regard for yonder doomed man." Vernia
started at his words.
"Though
he is a rebel and traitor, you could have saved his life, merely by signing
your name. As it is, you shall have the pleasure of witnessing his death
struggles. Start the motor."
The
burly guard crossed to the motor with a grin more broad
than before, and pressed a button.
Vemia,
peering intendy through the glass, saw Grandon flinch slightly when the thing
started. Then he compressed his hps and settled back as if resolved to meet his
fate calmly. Presendy she noticed that he was breathing convulsively with
nostrils distended.
"Stopl
You are killing him!" she screamed. "Stop
that terrible thing. I will sign. I will do anything."
Destho
made a sign to the guard, who pressed another button and opened a valve, but
not before Grandon's head had sunk limply forward. There was a loud hissing
sound and he raised his head, gasping weakly.
"I
thought you might be brought to reason, stubborn and headstrong as you
are," said Destho with a smile of triumph.
He
placed the scroll before her and she pa%sed for a moment, for Grandon was
looking at her through the glass and shaking his head emphatically. "I
cannot do it," she said weakly.
"Very well," replied Destho. He
turned to the guard. "Start the motor. There will be no stopping it this
time."
"No, no!" cried
Vemia. "Do not start it. I will sign."
Again
Des'tho motioned for the guard to desist. Vemia held the scroll, half rolled
before her. She looked at Grandon for a moment as if in silent farewell. Then
she tore her eyes from his with a visible effort and resolutely affixed her
name to the document.
Destho seized it eagerly and examined the
signature. Then he rolled it up, stuffed it in his bosom, walked to the motor,
closed the valve and pressed the button.
Vernia,
sensing his purpose, screamed frantically and ran to shut the thing off, but he
intercepted her and forced her back in the chair.
"I
am legal emperor of Reabon now," he said. "There is no more need for
force, for my word is law. I now decree that this traitor shall die, and you,
in company with your beloved husband, will have the pleasure of watching his
death struggles." -
CHAPTER
XVH
When the glass bell was lowered around him Grandon rightly
guessed that the thing was intended either to torture or kill him—perhaps both.
He gritted his teeth, though he flinched when
the guard started the motor. A roaring sounded in his ears. Were they pumping
some sort of deadly gas into the bell? He could detect no unusual odor of any
kind. Breathing, however, was rapidly growing more and more difficult.
It
was then that he guessed the truth. They were pumping the air out of the belli
Fearful pains shot through his body as he gasped and struggled for breath.
Suddenly all went black before him and his head drooped forward.
A
moment later, he was revived by the sibilant inrush of air. He saw Verhia,
apparently ready to sign the proclamation which would make her the lawful wife
of Destho, and shook his head vigorously.
Though he could not hear what was said, he
saw her refusal, the subsequent threat of Destho, and her final acquiescense.
"Don't
sign!" he shouted, but she was looking away from him and his voice did not
reach beyond the thick wall of glass.
It
was this and the final treachery of Destho in again starting the motor that
filled him with a consuming rage and aroused him from his passivity. With a
burst of strength of which he had not known himself capable, he strained at his
shackles. A chain parted—then another. His arms were free. He reached down and
wrenched at the fetters which held his legs. Again the roaring sounded in his
ears. A quick jerk freed his right leg. He twisted the chair from his left and
swung it against the glass with all his might. A thousand tiny checks radiated
from the point where it struck. He swung again. There was a crash and a hollow
report like the crack of a tork as the air surged inward.
The
guard stood ready to receive him with drawn scarbo as Grandon leaped out.
Swinging the iron chair, he crushed the man's skull like an eggshell, and his
scarbo clattered to the floor. The other guard, rushing to the assistance of
his companion, met a similar' fate.
Destho
was dragging Vemia from the room. Bopo still faced Grandon, scarbo in hand. He
hurled the chair, which caught the surprised captain amidships. Grandon picked
up the scimitar-bladed scarbo of the guard and ran forward to intercept
Destho.
With
Grandon's blade threatening him, the usurper was forced to release Vernia and
draw his weapon. The man was no mean swordsman and, for a time, the outcome was
uncertain.
The
Earthman fought in a blind fury. Gradually, his brain cleared and his stroke
became more certain. He forced his antagonist to the wall and, with a dexterous
twist, sent his scarbo clattering.
A
look of alarm shone in the eyes of the amazed Rea-bonian prince. "Would
you kill an unarmed man?"
"Surrender or ..."
Before Grandon could finish the sentence the
wily Destho dodged under his arm and ran through the door, calling loudly for
help.
Grandon started after
him—then paused hopelessly.
"Come," he said, taking yernia's
hand. "He will have a swarm of soldiers here in a few moments. We must try
to find a hiding place."
They
sped down the dim passageway, hand in hand. Ahead of them they heard footsteps
and the clank of arms. A doorway on their left offered temporary haven, and
into this they darted. Grandon held the door slightly ajar and watched. In a
moment a dozen of the castle guards rushed past, followed by Destho.
"Now," he
whispered. "We must go quietly."
Again they darted along the passageway until
they arrived at the spiral stair. They had barely ascended to the ground level
when a guard appeared. Grandon ran him through the throat, but not before he
let out a shriek that brought a score of his comrades running.
There
was nothing for it but to climb the stairway, and this they did, only to be
spied by the foremost guard. He dashed after them, calling his companions to
follow, and paid for his temerity with a split skull when he came up with them
at the fourth level. His comrades, finding his body a moment later, set up an
angry shout and redoubled their speed.
Before they reached the seventh level,
Grandon was forced to turn and engage the foremost guard. The man proved a poor
swordsman, and a quick thrust through the heart sent him back on his fellows,
momentarily impeding their progress.
Taking advantage of this opportunity, Grandon
turned and again fled up the stairs with Vernia. They passed the eighth level
before noticing that they were in a narrow tower overlooking the sloping roof.
The tenth level was the last, and Grandon thrust Vemia into the tower room
before turning to face their pursuers. They were fairly trapped.
The first foeman, a huge coarse-featured
giant, felt the weight of Grandon's steel and toppled back with a groan.
Another leaped over his body and took his place, only to go down before the
bewildering swordplay of the Earthman. Then they tried rushing him two at a
time, but as two men could not wield their scarbos simultaneously in the narrow
passage, they quickly shared the fate of the others.
When
they could no longer mount over their fallen comrades, they withdrew a little
way and Grandon judged from the murmur of their voices that they were
formulating another plan of attack. He took advantage of the lull in the
fighting to strip a tork and belt from the nearest man. Then he lay down at the
head of the stair with tork leveled and waited.
Suddenly
he heard a familiar whining sound, followed by a terrific explosion that shook
the floor. A mattork projectile! Could it be that they were shelling the tower?
There followed another and another in quick succession—then a continuous
roar, as though a hundred mattork cannon had gone into action.
Vernia called excitedly
from the tower room.
"An
army approaches through the forest. I can see their uniforms through the trees
and they look like Fighting Traveks. Ah, they are Fighting Traveks! A company of them is charging through the camp while
their, mattorks shell the castle. A small band of men in
Albine armor fight with them in the front ranks. Destho's troops were
momentarily thrown into confusion, but now they are rallying! Oh, they will
kill all the Traveks, for they outnumber them ten to one."
"Can
you see who leads the Traveks?" asked Grandon, not daring to leave his
post.
"He is a big man with a gray beard. He
towers above his men, urging them on to battle with a voice that roars deep and
strong!"
"Bordeen!"
exclaimed Grandon. So the doughty commander had disobeyed orders. Evidently
Oro and his twenty marsh-men fought with them.
"The
army of Destho has rallied," continued Vernia. "They are closing in
on the Traveks from two sides. They are butchering them—it is terrible. Now the
Traveks are retreating. They are cutting their way back to their comrades, but
already half of their number has fallen. Now a new company charges to their
rescue while the mattorks sweep the lines on both sides of them. The survivors
have succeeded in reaching their comrades, but the army of Destho is surrounding
them."
"The fools—the utter
fools," moaned Grandon.
Again Vernia cried out in
amazement.
"A new army approa'ches from the south. The camp is deserted on that side, all
having gone to surround the Traveks On the
north. A host of warriors in" Albine armor is charging across the
clearing. The army of Destho is rushing back to engage them and the men on the
walls shower bullets on them without effect. They have clashed with Destho's
men and cut them down like reeds. Not a single warrior in brown armor has
fallen. Now the men on the wall are training mattorks on them. The mattork
projectiles tear great holes in their ranks, yet they forge steadily ahead. I
can see their banners now. They are inscribed with the word 'Granterral' "
"It
must be Joto," said Grandon. "Yet how could he have learned of our
presence here?"
"It
is Joto," cried Vernia, joyously. "He is fighting in the front ranks
with his visor raised, cheering his men between blows and laughing as he
fights."
"There is not another
leader like him."
"Now
the Traveks have rallied. They are shelling the batteries on the walls. They
are cutting their way through the army of Destho."
"Would that I could help them!" cried
Grandon.
"More
warriors in brown armor are approaching," continued Vernia. "They
are accompanied by an army of sabits. The men have mounted on the backs of the
sabits and are charging the castle. The sabits are carrying them up and over
the walls which they could not have scaled unaided; They
are swarming everywhere. The sabits crush the defenders in their forceps and thé
mounted men cut them down with their swords. Now the walls and the courtyard
have been cleared of defendersl The gate has been
thrown open and they are storming the castie itself, the Traveks fighting side
by side with the armored warriors."
Grandon was so engrossed in Vernia's
description of the battle that he momentarily relaxed his vigil. He nearly paid
for his carelessness with his life, for a tork bullet sang uncomfortably close
to his ear, and a new company of guardsmen charged up the stairs. As he
quickly returned the fire he heard a voice—the voice of Destho—on the level be--low. "Remember. Ten thousand acres of choice land
to the man who slays him, but harm not the woman."
"Go
back, fools," shouted Grandon. "Dead men have no use for land."
But neither his threat nor his bullets could
stay them. The men who surged up the steps fired their torks as they came and
carried long-bladed spears. He was compelled to retreat to the tower room where
he found momentary safety by barring the steel door.
There
was a shout of baffled rage, and a rain of blows sounded on the door. "It
will hold them off for awhile— a very short while, I fear."
He was startled by a scream from Vernia.
Turning, he beheld the ugly head of a red-mouthed sabit, peering in at the
window. Behind it appeared the spiny crest of an Albine-armored warrior. Both
squeezed through the narrow window and the warrior threw back his visor.
"Tholtol" exclaimed Grandon and
Vernia simultaneously.
Leaping
from his savage mount, the marsh-man prostrated himself
before them, right hand extended palm downward.
"Tholto, your
slave," he said simply.
Grandon, noting that the steel door was
sagging from the terrific blows of those without, leaped forward with scarbo
ready. Tholto followed, drawing his sword, and, as he did so, speaking a few
words to the sabit in the tone language. The creature responded by vibrating
its antennae and took a place between them, directly in front of the door,
where it waited expectantly with its head cocked to one side, much as a terrior
waits for the leap of a cornered rat.
The
door fell inward with a rending crash and a shout of triumph went up from the
attackers. Then the sabit leaped, snapping to right and left with its powerful
forceps and shearing a man in twain with each snap. With Grandon swinging his
scarbo on one side and Tholto his sharp Albine sword on the other, the landing
was cleared in a twinkling.
The bloodthirsty sabit plowed on down the
stairway, and the death shrieks of the fleeing guards were terrible to hear as
it caught up with them one by one.
Grandon
searched for Destho among the corpses that littered the landing, but he was
not among them. Evidently he had escaped or was numbered among the sabit's
victims, whose shrieks still sounded from below at intermittent intervals.
A ringing cheer floated up from the
courtyard, and Grandon looked down from the tower window. Far below him he saw
a straggling line of Destho's soldiers filing out from the castle, weaponless,
and with their hands held out before them in token of submission. A detachment
of Traveks escorted them on one side, while a company of the brown-armored
soldiers of Granterra marched on the other.
"The castle has fallen," said
Grandon. "Let us descend."
They
picked their way down the blood-soaked steps while Tholto ran ahead, calling
his ferocious steed in the tone language of the sabits. The mangled bodies that
strewed the entire stairway mutely attested the terrible efficiency of the
fighting monster.
Upon reaching the ground level they made
their way toward the audience chamber, whence came the
unmistakable sounds of heated argument.
Shouts of "Kill the traitor!" and
"Behead the assassin!" were distinguishable above the clamor.
"Oh, what are they doing?" cried
Vernia. "Let us hurry."
When
they entered the audience chamber they found it jammed with a crowd of Fighting
Traveks and Granterrites, mingled indiscriminately. As they weaved their swords
and scarbbs aloft, Destho, the object of their hatred, stood trembling with
fright before the throne in the grip of two brawny Traveks. Bordeen, on one
side, and Joto on the other, were attempting to quiet
the angry mob.
"Wait,
fools," roared Bordeen. "He has not told us where we may find Grandon
of Terra and the princess. A dead man discloses no secrets."
"Torture him!"
cried a brawny Travek.
"The
secret is out," said Joto, "for Grandon of Terra approaches, and
with him is the princess!"
At
sight of Grandon and his fair companion the assembled fighting men sent up a
shout that dwarfed their previous clamor to insignificance. A path was speedily
cleared for the pair as they made their way toward the throne. Bordeen and Joto rushed forward to greet them, followed by Oro,
Rotha and Tholto.
"I
thought the hahoe of Reabon had killed you," said Bordeen huskily, tears
of joy gleaming in his eyes. "We searched every dungeon and cell without a
trace."
"A
hahoe slays not a warrior so easily," said Joto, smiling broadly.
"The
warrior was fairly cornered by the hahoes when you came so gallantly to the
rescue," said Grandon. "How did you learn of our plight and how could
.you bring such a large army here without imperiling your people? The sabits
may attack them during your absence."
"It
was Tholto told us of the plight of the princess," said Joto. "We did
not know that you had come here on the same mission as our own until informed
by the Traveks. Tholto traveled unarmed and alone through the forests and the
great salt marsh. There he built himself a crude raft with which he navigated
the underground river. I came near beheading him before he convinced me that he
was telling the truth. As for the safety of our people, there is no more danger
in the Valley of the Sabits. Every sabit community has been subjugated and man
rules supreme. We lead indolent fives in Granterra, for our sabit slaves work for us, hunt for us and even fight for us. My
only fear is that we may degenerate through inactivity."
"And
you," said Grandon, turning to Bordeen. "How came you to disobey
orders?"
"As
soon as you had gone," Bordeen said, "I thought of the odds against
you and realized that your quest was hopeless. I called all the captains in
council and explained the situation. To a man they voted to come to your
rescue. We felt that, though we might not be able to reach you, we might at
least disconcert those within the castle sufficiendy to give you an opportunity
for escape."
"You
did nobly," said Grandon, "yet my heart bleeds for the gallant
soldiers who have sacrificed their lives today."
There
was a sudden outcry from the direction of the throne. The wily Destho, taking
advantage of the fact that all eyes were riveted on Grandon and Vemia, had broken froin his guards and bolted for the door.
A dozen soldiers ran to intercept him, but to
no purpose.-He ran down the hallway and disappeared from view around a corner.
Grandon,
Bordeen and Tholto, in hot pursuit, were only a few seconds behind him, yet
when they turned the corner no,one was in sight. The
hall was lined with doorways, and Grandon plunged into one while his comrades
entered the others. He found himself in an empty room, lighted by a small
window which stood open. Suddenly he heard the roar of a motor vehicle in the
yard outside and ran to the window. He shouted a warning to the soldiers
outside, but too late. The vehicle, gathering momentum with every revolution
of its huge single wheel, shot through the gate and down the road before the
astonished soldiers realized what it was all about. They sent a volley of tork
bullets and curses after it as it disappeared around a curve in the road.
Calling
his comrades, Grandon returned to where Vernia awaited them in the throne room.
"We must hurry to Reabon at once," he said. "Destho has
escaped."
"Did he take the proclamation with
him?" asked Vernia.
Bordeen spoke up. "He could not have
taken the proclamation with him, because we deprived him of all papers in his
possession when he was made prisoner. I have them with me now."
He
produced a bundle of papers which Grandon scanned eagerly. They were all
letters from his spies and fellow conspirators. The proclamation was not among
them.
"Your
searchers must have overlooked it," said Grandon, "for it is not
among these papers."
"That
is possible, of course, but not probable," replied Bordeen. "He was
searched thoroughly."
"Perhaps
he disposed of it in some other way," suggested Joto.
"We
may be able to find out from some of his officers, if any of them have been
captured alive," said Grandon.
"Most
of those left in the castle surrendered," Bordeen said. "Let us see
what they have to say."
A
dozen of them were produced forthwith and questioned. All declared that Destho
had dispatched a messenger to the capital in a swift motor vehicle shordy
before the attack by the Traveks. It was understood that the messenger was
conveying an important document to Bonal, Prime Minister of Reabon.
"Copies
will have been made and distributed and broadcast through the empire by this
time," said Bprdeen. "What was the nature of the proclamation? No
doubt it favored Destho in some way or he would not have rushed it to the
capital."
Grandon
ground his teeth. "It favored Destho, all right, for it made him Emperor
of Reabon and the husband of Vemia."
Joto laid his arm across Grandon's shoulders.
"My
friend," he said gravely, "be not so
downcast, I beg of you. Your enemy has the proclamation, but you still have
Vernia of Reabon, and an army that is all but invincible. Let us march to
Reabon at once."
Grandon turned to Vernia. "With
your permission."
A
smile overspread her face as she calmly replied: "I will go with you. Let
us start at once."
CHAPTER XVIH
It was a
picturesque procession that
started for Reabon shortly after midnight. Destho's two-score motor vehicles
and a number of carts had been pressed into use. All were equipped with bright
searchlights, fore and aft, that lighted the road and reflected brilliandy from
the armor and weapons of the marching men.
Grandon
rode in the lead with Bordeen and Joto, commanders of the two armies whose
victory had turned to defeat by the laws of the empire. Princess Vernia and
Rotha followed in the car immediately behind them.
The
Earthman rode in moody silence, nor did his two
companions interrupt his thoughts. As the motors were throttled down to conform
to the speed of the marching men, their progress was quite slow. Morning found
them a good half day's march from the capital.
Grandon
was startled by a sudden cry from the driver. At the same time their vehicle
came to a full stop, and shouts of wonder and alarm echoed from without. He
drew his scarbo, and leaped from the car. To his surprise he beheld a huge
ball, more than fifty feet in diameter, blocking the road. Many of the
soldiers, as well as occupants of the other cars were running toward it.
"What is that thing?" he asked a
young Travek.
"I
do not know, your majesty," the man replied. "They who first saw it
say it fell from the sky."
Grandon approached the globe and examined it
curiously. It appeared to be constructed of a metal similar to asbestos,
criss-crossed with a network of wires. Near the center of the side he faced was
a circle of metal that suggested aluminum.
The circle began to turn, and a murmur of
surprise went up from the watchers.
Grandon's
first thought was that a spaceship from Earth had reached Venus—but an
instant's reflection made him reject this solution. Earth was probably not even
a habitable planet now, and might not become so for millennia to come. Could
this be from Mars, which also had a scientific culture now?
The
circle was revolving more quickly now, and projecting from the sphere. Vemia came up beside the Earthman, Rotha following her.
"What is it?"
"I
don't know. It may be some new implement of war. You had best go back into the
car until we find out." She complied quite meekly, he thought, as he
turned to the soldiers and ordered them to stand back
a hundred yards or so.
Now a screwlike cylinder projected from the
globe for more than five feet. He could plainly see the threaded sides as it
hung there, twenty-five feet above his head. It fell forward with a loud click
and hung suspended by a thick hinge, disclosing a dark hole. From this hole, a
ladder of flexible material dropped, one end nearly touching the ground.
Now the figure of a man in a spacesuit
clearly similar to American design appeared and clambered down the ladder. He
stood there a moment, looking at Grandon, then removed
his helmet, and the Earthman recognized the features of Dr. Morgan.
"How are you, my boy?" he asked
cordially.
Grandon snapped his fingers and grinned back.
"You built another space-time vehicle, I see, Doctor—or did Vorn Van-gal
do it?"
Morgan
smiled. "I wondered if you would remember. This is Vom Vangal's work,
operated by telekenesis like the Olban airships. Watch."
Even
as he spoke, the huge globe moved upward from its resting place and hovered a
hundred feet above their beads. "Suppose we climb into that vehicle of
yours and I'll tell you the news while we ride to Reabon."
Grandon's
reply was interrupted by a cry from several of the men and saw that they were
looking to the westward; he turned to behold a huge fleet of Olban airships bearing
down on them. The ships were many times larger than the Olban craft he'd seen,
but were constructed on the same general principles. Each airship had ten
shining glass cabs and bristled with mattorks, projecting fore and aft, on both
sides and below.
The
fleet came to a dead stop above them. Then one airship descended to the spot
where the globe of Dr. Morgan had rested a moment before, and a set of aluminum
stairs which had been telescoped on the deck was elongated and flung over the
side, reaching to the ground.
Two
men descended. The foremost was clad in scarlet apparel, trimmed with gold and
glittering with precious jewels. His feet were incased in sandals of the
softest frella hide, and he wore a turbanlike headpiece, also of scarlet
ornamented with gold fringe, and set with an enormous glittering ruby that
blazed from the middle of his forehead. His companion was more soberly garbed
in purple trimmed with silver and also ornamented with jewels.
Grandon
recognized the handsome, smooth-shaven youth in scarlet as "Harry
Thorne"—actually, the Martian, Borgen Takkor, who. had
followed him to Venus. The man in purple was Vorn Vangal. At the same moment
Thorne saw the doctor and ran forward, embracing him with a glad cry of
recognition. He greeted Grandon with a warm hand-clasp.
It was not necessary to introduce Dr. Morgan
and Vom Vangal.
"Where is this beautiful princess of
yours, Grandon?" asked Dr. Morgan. "I am anxious to meet her."
"And I also," supplemented Thome,
"though there is a certain princess back in Olba whose beauty I have not
seen matched on three planets."
"I think," smiled Vorn Vangal,
"you will find that opinions are quite likely to vary on such things as
the beauty of a woman."
Grandon could not find the
heart to reply.
"What
ails you, man?" asked Thorne. "You look as if Vangal here had just
pronounced sentence of death on you."
"Buck
up, my boy," said Dr. Morgan. "You haven't lost her yet."
"Haven't
lost her? Didn't she sign a marriage decree making Destho her husband and
Emperor of Reabon?"
He
led them to Vemia's vehicle. She received them graciously, with all the dignity
and poise of a bom princess.
"And
now," said the doctor when the presentation was concluded, "where are
Bordeen and Joto?"
"What
do you know about Bordeen and Joto?" asked Grandon in surprise.
"You
forget that I have been in telepathic rapport with
you up to the moment I landed," replied the doctor. "I have broken rapport now because it is unnecessary."
They
found Bordeen and Joto with several of the captains, examining the Olban
airship, while members of the crew eyed them rather suspiciously from the deck
above.
Introductions
over, Harry Thome invited them aboard. "Ride with me to Reabon," he
said. "We have every comfort and convenience and plenty of room for
all."
He
led them up the aluminum steps and along the deck to the foremost glass cab.
Bordeen called down to his captains to resume the march, and the ship rose
majestically as they entered the snug, glass-inclosed room, with its luxurious
cushioned seats and thickly carpeted floor.
When
all were seated a slave brought them steaming liquor in golden cups. "And
now that we are all assembled," said Harry Thome, "I should like to
ask Grandon why we are going to Reabon and what we are supposed to do when we
get there."
Grandon
drained his cup and handed it to a waiting servant.
"The Princess of Reabon has been
compelled to sign away her fortune and her hand. Speaking for myself and my
Fighting Traveks, we go as her escort, to do her bidding no matter what may
arise. To me it is almost inconceivable that she will meekly submit to Destho;
yet if that be her intention, neither I nor any of my men will raise a hand to
stay her. If, on the other hand, she should, at the last moment, decide to
free herself from Destho and regain her lost throne, we will be ready to fight
for her to the last man."
"You
have spoken for the warriors of Granterra and their commander as well,"
said Joto.
"And
for the Imperial Air Patrol of Olba, if I and my men may be included,"
declared Harry Thome.
"It
seems," said the doctor smiling, "that the princess does not lack
allies. As to whether she will call on any of you or not—who can say? A woman's
mind . . ."
"Is
past understanding for any man, on this planet or another," interrupted
Vorn Vangal. "However, I do not believe she will call for assistance.
That proclamation, once signed, is binding alike on herself and her subjects.
She might nullify any ordinary proclamation by issuing another, but in this case
such a proceeding is quite impossible. She has named another to rule over her
and her subjects; he, and he alone, can now nullify the proclamation."
"In
that case," said Joto, "there might be ways of persuading him."
"A
worthy suggestion, Joto" proceeded Bordeen, "but hardly practical; we
cannot cope with the mighty armies of Reabon for any long period of time. The
army of Reabon is the largest and best equipped in all Zarovia, and her
soldiers know not the meaning of fear. Should Vernia decide on a revolt
against the new emperor we could undoubtedly get her out of the country
alive—a revolt against the emperor would make her a traitor and an outcast. Under the constitution of Reabon, which has
prevailed for ages, she could never hope to regain her throne and scepter. When
we reach Reabon she must choose between freedom as an outcast from her country
forever, or the half of her throne which the proclamation still allows her, and
virtual slavery to her emperor."
"Vorn
Vangal speaks the truth," said Bordeeh slowly, "for well do I know
the unchanging laws of Reabori and the regard in which they are held by every
subject of the empire."
"In
that case," said Dr. Morgan, "it seems that further discussion of the
problem is futile. It rests with her majesty to choose, and with us to act only
when she has made her decision."
"Quite
right," agreed Thome. "And now that the subject has been dispensed
with for the present, Doctor, suppose you tell us a few things. I have been
itching to find out ever since I received your telepathic summons to meet you
here, through Vom Vangal. You have had quite an advantage over Grandon and me,
you know, being cognizant of our every moment since we left the Earth, while we
know nothing of what you have done since we last saw you."
"As
we are nearing Reabon I will only touch on a few points that may be of interest
to you," said the doctor. "Both of you will be surprised to know that
the Zarovian men who exchanged bodies with you have committed suicide,
destroying your Earth bodies by leaping from a precipice. I did not communicate
the reason to you, but it will become apparent from what I am about to
relate'.
"The
Olban prince whom you represent, Thome, and Prince Thaddor knew something of
the exploits of both of you on this planet. The former became despondent while
the latter grew insanely jealous of Grandon. They formed a suicide pact, and
stole away together one moonlight night to carry it out. Their—or more exacdy, your—mangled bodies were found the next morning at
the foot of the cliff."
Morgan sighed. "In a few days I start my
return journey to Earth. I will be happy to have either or both of you join me
if you care to do so, though I fancy that Harry Thome will not care to leave,
and that Grandon's decision to go or stay will depend on what takes place in
Reabon today. When
I am ready to start I will let you know, and
you will have until then to make up your minds."
"Mine
is made up right now," said Thorne. "You couldn't drive me away from
this planet with a pack of man-eating hahoes. There's a little girl back in Olba .. ."
"Tell
us about her, and some of your adventures," said Grandon.
They
were interrupted by a call from the lookout. Thome stepped out for a
moment—then returned. "My story will have to wait," he said,
"for we have arrived in Reabon."
CHAPTER
XIX
Grandon
and ms companions,
peering over the rail of the airship, saw that they had indeed arrived at the
capital. Immediately below them was the procession consisting of a string of
vehicles and carts now led by the one carrying Vernia, and accompanied by the
two small armies of Uxpo and Granterra, the latter with its strange, fierce
sabit cavalry, the like of which had never been seen before in Reabon.
From
their point of vantage they could see that the city walls were lined with
spectators, as were both sides of the main thoroughfare leading to the palace.
The gates were slowly lifted, their powerful motors humming sonorously, as the
vehicle of the princess approached.
When
it passed beneath the gates a mighty cheer went up from the assemblage and the
colors of Vemia flashed out suddenly, waved by a hundred thousand hands. Then,
as if in obedience to a single word of command, every man, woman and child in
that vast multitude bowed low, with right hand extended palm downward.
The
crowd that lined the broad avenue, soldiers and civilians alike, remained on
bended knees until the vehicle of the princess passed them, then rose and waved
her colors once more.
As
the triumphal procession approached the palace gates the throngs rose, and the
inmates, from the highest to the most lowly, did
homage.
A
golden palanquin carried by four longs greeted the vehicle as it arrived at the
palace steps. Two slaves parted its scarlet curtains and Vernia stepped within,
motioning Rotha to follow. The curtains fell back in place and the multitude
rose and cheered vociferously as the palanquin with its imperial burden was
carried through the palace doors.
The air fleet, which had been hovering above
the palace grounds, slowly descended. As Grandon and his companions reached the
foot of the aluminum stairs, one at a time, they were met by a palace guard who
inquired their names and titles and assigned a slave to each man to conduct
hinTto his quarters.
Grandon
had been amazed by the size and beauty of the imperial palace as viewed from
without, but even that marvelous sight did not prepare him for the glory and
magnificence he beheld within. As he followed his guide, a beardless youth clad
in the purple of nobility and evidendy serving as a sort of page while learning
the customs of the court, Grandon gazed in wonder and admiration at the rich
decorations and furnishings. Even the corridors through which they passed were
paved with blocks of agate and jasper, polished like glass and faultlessly
fitted together, while the sides and ceiling were of alabaster inlaid with
designs in pure gold and set with mural panels done in oil and rimmed with
platinum, each one a priceless work of art.
At length they came before a door of highly
polished wood of a reddish hue, studded with bolts of gold. On each side of
this door stood a soldier attired in the brilliant raiment of the imperial
guard and armed with tork, scarbo, and broad-bladed spear.
Both
bowed low with right hand extended palm downward, as Crandon came before them.
Then one rose and flung the door wide and the other drew back a heavy scarlet
curtain behind it.
Grandon
entered, followed by the page. The curtain fell behind them and the door was
softly closed. The room they were in had evidentiy belonged to a huntsman and
warrior of no mean accomplishments. Its paneled walls were hung with weapons
and trophies of the chase and battlefield, and skins of marmelots and ramphs,
magnificent specimens, were flung on the floor. A ramph,
carved from the red wood and supporting a round top of polished crystal, formed
a huge table in the center of the room.
Two
chairs, one on each side of the table, were cut from the same red wood to
represent kneeling giants holding the curved scarlet cushions that formed the
seats and backs.
The room was lighted by two large windows
that reached from floor to ceiling, and opened on a private balcony overlooking
the palace garden.
Immediately adjoining this room, and
separated only by an arched doorway with scarlet hangings, was another, even
more luxuriously furnished and elaborately decorated. It was lighted, as was
the first, by two enormous windows reaching from floor to ceiling. Between them
was a massive sleeping shelf over which hung a scarlet canopy with a golden
fringe at its edge. Two chairs, a table smaller than the first, and three huge
chests or wardrobes completed its furnishings.
Grandon's guide led them directly through
this room to a magnificent bath which formed the third and last unit of the
suite.
The ablutions over, the page provided him
with a suit of scarlet apparel from one of the huge wardrobes, and a slave
brought a tray containing a pot of fresh-brewed kova and an endless variety of
choice viands.
Grandon invited the page to participate in
Jhe feast, but he declined with thanks, saying it was not seemly that he should
eat at the same table with royalty.
"You
have been employed in the palace for sometime, have you not?"
"For nearly two years,
your majesty."
"Ah.
Then perhaps you can tell me who formerly occupied this suite."
The page looked at him in
amazement.
"Can
it be possible that you do not know whose rooms these were?" he exclaimed.
This is the private suite of Emperor Margo, the mightiest of all emperors of
Reabon and sire of our beloved Princess Vernia."
Grandon
was dumbfounded. "Where is the new' emperor named by the proclamation of
the princess?" he asked. "Where is Prince Destho?"
"The
Imperial Proclamation will not be read until high noon today. Prince Destho is
in the palace in his own suite."
There
was a rap at the door and the page hastened to answer it. In a moment he
admitted Bonal, Vemia's pompous prime minister. That portly individual bowed
low with right hand extended palm downward, then stood stiffly erect and
delivered his message.
"It
is the command of her Imperial^ Majesty, Vernia, Princess of Reabon, that
Grandon of Terra, King of Uxpo, attend her at once in the audience
chamber."
Grandon
followed the officer through a maze of corridors and passageways, then through
an arched doorway between two guards who saluted stiffly as he passed, and
found himself in the audience chamber.
The door through which he had entered was at
the right of the throne—a door which royalty alone was privileged to use. He
was escorted to a position among the scarlet-clad members of Reabonian royalty,
from which he had an excellent view of the entire hall.
He could see Bordeen, Vom Vangal and Dr.
Morgan standing with the purple-clad nobles. As the doctor wore a purple
uniform it was apparent that he had been created a noble of Reabon.
Below
them in lines of the blue-clad commoners he could make out Oro and Rotha, and
the uniforms of many Fighting Traveks as well as the glistening armor of the
Granterrites. Across from him, clad in the scarlet of royalty, he saw Harry
Thorne, Joto, and somewhat apart from them, the triumphantly grinning Prince
Destho.
The buzz of conversation ceased abrupdy as
the scarlet curtains that surrounded the throne slowly parted and slid
majestically back to the wall in shimmering folds, announcing the coming of
the princess.
Then the massive doors at the end of the hall
swung open and the imperial procession entered, headed by the four kings who
bore the palanquin, and followed by Orthad, Supreme Commander of Reabon, who
carried on a scarlet cushion the huge jeweled scarbo that was the scepter of
Reabonian authority.
After him came a hundred members of the
Imperial Guard with gorgeous uniforms and shining weapons, who ranged
themselves in two straight lines reaching from the foot of the throne to the
end of the hall.
Then,
for the first time, Grandon saw how a ruler of Reabon mounted to the throne.
Orthad
presented the imperial scarbo which she took from the cushion and rested across
the arms of the throne. Her gaze swept the assemblage and her eyes rested for a
moment on Grandon. But it became plainly apparent in a moment that Vernia had
no intention of asking assistance, for she summoned Bonal, her prime minister,
and ordered him to read the proclamation.
As
Bonal faced the crowd and unrolled the document with an exaggerated flourish,
Grandon looked across at Prince Destho, and noting the look of triumph in his
dark eyes with difficulty restrained himself from leaping across that narrow
space and throttling the man.
The prime minister stepped to the edge of the
dais and read:
"A Proclamation by Her Imperial Majesty,
Vernia, the Princess of Reabon.
"On
the twenty-fourth day of the eighth Endir in the four thousand and tenth year
of Thorth, I, Vernia of Reabon, hereby proclaim and declare to all my subjects
throughout the length and breadth of the empire that I have taken for my
husband, and raised to the office of emperor, to rule over me and my people,
the brave and illustrious Grandon of Terra.
"It
is my command that copies of this proclamation be made and distributed to all
parts of the empire without delay, and that the fifth day of the ninth Endir
be set aside as a day for feasting and suitable celebration in honor of this
momentous event.
"Vernia, Princess of Reabon."
Grandon
could scarcely believe the testimony of his own ears; a glance at Prince Destho
showed that he was no less amazed.
A
ringing cheer broke from the throats of the vast multitude: "Long life to
Grandon of Terra, Emperor of Reabon!"
Grandon
stood still until a young prince plucked at his elbow and whispered: "Step
before the throne."
He
followed this sound advice and wafted, stiffly erect while Vernia descended and
gave the imperial scarbo into his keeping.
"Mount
to the throne," she bade him in a whisper, "and place the scarbo
across the arms as you saw me . . ." Suddenly she paused with a' scream
of terror. "Look behind you—quickly!"
He
whirled in time to see Destho, his face contorted with rage and his scarbo
descending in a shimmering arc. There was no time to parry the blow; Grandon
leaped aside, then caught the blade with the imperial scarbo, twirled it and
sent it clattering to the floor.
His
weapon gone, Destho turned and sprinted for a side door. Soldiers ran to
intercept him, but before he reached them a man attired in a bloody, tattered
uniform leaped out from the ranks of the commoners and caught him by the beard.
"Thus should all traitors die!"
As
the words rang clear above the tumult, a knife flashed in the hand of the
soldier, then thrust into the breast of Destho.
Grandon
arrived to see the plotter lying on the floor with bloody froth issuing from
his mouth and trickling down on his wiry beard. His assailant had fallen across
his prostrate body, and Grandon recognized Zueppa. The wound inflicted on
Zueppa by the man he had just slain had been reopened by his exertion. In a
moment both were dead.
Four
soldiers removed the bodies and order was restored with surprising celerity.
Again Grandon moved to the foot of the throne where Vemia awaited him,
wide-eyed and trembling. He took her hands in his for a moment, then she resolutely bade him proceed.
Upon
his return the four kings had prostrated themselves on the steps leading to the
throne in accordance with the customs of their ancestors. Grandon turned to
Vernia. "I am emperor now, am I not?"
"Assuredly,
my lord."
"And my word is-
law?"
"So long as it does not conflict with the written constitution of
Reabon."
"Is
this matter of mounting to the throne on the backs of one's vassal kings
written into the constitution?"
"No.
It is a custom that has been observed for generations and signifies the
complete submission of the heads of the various kingdoms."
"Then
it shall be abolished. I expect loyalty from my subjects, but not abject
servility."
Then,
to the surprise of the four kings, he bade them rise and stand, each man on the
step he occupied, two to the right and two to the left Thus attended, Grandon
mounted to the throne while the spectators looked on in amazement.
When
he had taken his seat with quiet dignity and rested the scarbo across the arms
of the throne, Vernia mounted and bowed before him with right hand extended
palm downward—an example which was followed by the entire assemblage. It was
indeed a day of surprise for the good people of Reabon, for no sooner had she
knelt before him than he, in violation of an age-old custom which decreed that
the empress should sit at the feet of her lord, swung the scarbo to one side
and lifted her up beside him on the throne.
"You
shouldn't have done this," she gasped. "My place is . . r
"Custom
be hanged!" he responded, and there, in full view of that vast multitude,
he kissed his bride full upon the lips.
The
crowd responded with a resounding cheer. "A long and
happy reign to our emperor and his empress!"
Then
the shimmering scarlet curtains crept around the throne, and Crandon forgot all
else when two soft arms stole around his neck and Vemia's fluffy head nesded on
his shoulder.
"I
don't understand about the proclamation yet," he said, at length.
"How and when did you manage to change it?"
"It
was changed before I affixed my signature," she said, "else I should sooner have died than sign it. While Destho's
attention was momentarily drawn to you J. crossed
out his name and substituted yours. I then allowed the scroll to roll half
downward, as if by accident, and when he turned he saw that I was signing and,
happily, never bothered to unroll it again!"
At a
loss for suitable words to express his admiration and adoration, Crandon sought
refuge in banality. "You wonderful little woman," he said.
At midnight, two weeks later, Crandon and
Vernia stood on the roof of their palace watching the movement of a metal
cylinder that was slowly screwing itself into place in a huge sphere of
asbestos and steel.
Bordeen had left that day for Uxpo with the
Fighting Traveks. Oro, Rotha, and Tholto had accompanied Joto and his Granterrites back to
their people in the Valley of the Sabits, and Harry Thome and Vorn Vangal had
flown for Olba, as the former Martian was anxious to be with a certain
beautiful princess who awaited him.
They
had bidden Dr. Morgan good-by after helping him into his ponderous diving suit,
had watched him clamber aboard, draw up the ladder and close the cylindrical
door, and now waited to see his remarkable interplanetary vehicle begin its
journey back to Twentieth Century Earth.
At
length the cylinder clicked into place, and Grandon
signaled two attendants, who flashed a powerful searchlight on the sphere.
Slowly
it rose, rocking gently at first like a toy balloon on a flexible wand. Then,
with a suddenness that was appalling, it shot swiftly skyward. The searchlight
swung upward, groped about for a moment, making a flashing spot of light on the
fleecy clouds, and then found its objective. In that incredibly short time the
sphere had traveled so far as to have the diminutive appearance of an orange. A
moment later" it was but a tiny pin-point of white. Then it disappeared.
Grandon
ordered the light shut off and turned to go, when Vemia laid her hand on his
arm.
"Look," she said. "Your world and your moon." -He looked, and for a brief moment was
vouchsafed the glorious spectacle of the Earth and her satellite, through a
break in the clouds—the most brilliant and beautiful sight in the night-time of
Zarovia.
Then
he turned to the infinitely more lovely vision beside him, and together they
descended the stairs.
PLANET
of PERIL
When
Robert Grandon swapped bodies with a prince of the planet Venus, he was concerned
only with the thrill and interest of living on a different world. But the situation
he found himself in was hardly that of a leisurely sightseer. Instead he found
himself smack in the center of a whirlwind of intrigue, danger and desperation.
PLANET OF PERIL is a science-fiction
adventure on a world of semi-barbaric nations, ferocious beasts, gigantic
reptiles and maidens in distress.