DISGUISED as a brown-skinned palace slave with the crystal disk of a sun-worshiper on his breast, and mounted on a swift, sturdy gawr, Jerry flew toward Raliad, unheeding the picturesque scenery which unrolled swiftly beneath him.
On sighting the imperial palace, Jerry soared high above it in order to select the best place for a landing. He saw that the Torturer had stabled a number of his gawrs in the lagoons of the palace roof garden, something Numin Vil had never permitted. However, this made it easier for Jerry to reach his objective; he decided to land on the roof of the palace itself.
He accordingly selected the lagoon which was nearest that side of the edifice on which he knew Junia’s apartments to be situated, and soared down to the sloping beach. A brown-skinned attendant, who wore only a leather breechclout, came hurrying up.
“You cannot alight here, slave,” he said, gruffly. “Only the warriors of Sarkis and Thoor Vil may stable their gawrs in these lagoons.”
Without replying, Jerry untied and tossed him the thong which held the end of the guiding rod to the saddle. Then he sprang to the ground.
“Have I not said that you cannot land here?” demanded the attendant.
“Fool!” said Jerry. “I’m the bearer of important tidings for His Holy Majesty. Would you like it known that you have delayed me? For such as you there is the burning eye of the Lord Sun.”
“Forgive me, my lord,” said the attendant, abjectly. “I did not know you for a messenger of the Holy One.”
“See that my mount is well fed and watered, and hold him here in readiness for my coming, as I may be leaving soon, in a hurry.”
“I hear and obey, my lord,” replied the attendant, saluting respectfully.
Jerry swaggered away in the direction of the nearest vehicle tunnel. But as soon as a turn in the walk took him out of sight of the attendant, he slipped off through the shrubbery toward the thick wall that edged the roof. Here he mounted a stairway, and, going to the edge of the wall, peered over the balustrade.
It took him but a moment to identify the balcony of Junia, which was in the upper row, by the swinging divans with their golden chains and cushions of peacock blue, flanked by taborets of gold inlaid with lapis lazuli, which could only adorn the apartments of the Vil or his immediate family.
Reaching beneath his head-cloak, Jerry now took out a coil of light, tough rope. Going to a point directly above one end of Junia’s balcony, he made one end of the rope fast and dropped the coil. It fell among the potted shrubs, and the Earthman noted that it reached all the way, with a good twelve feet to spare.
After a swift glance around, to make sure that he was not observed, he swung over the balustrade and slid down the rope, alighting on the balcony without a sound. Cautiously, he made his way among the plants to a point opposite the window, and peered between them into the apartment.
His heart pounded wildly as he caught sight of the girl who meant more to him than life itself. Junia was seated before a small taboret, loaded with a variety of dainties. A brown-skinned slave girl was urging her to eat, but she would only sip a little pulcho from a tiny jeweled cup.
As he crouched there in the shrubbery, deliberating as to the best way to approach her, he suddenly saw a look of loathing come over her features. She was gazing toward another part of the room which he could not see. Someone had entered—an armed man, evidently, for he distinctly heard the clank of weapons.
Then Jerry recognized the hollow, sepulchral tones of Sarkis the Torturer.
“I have come for your decision, Princess. The great Lord Sun nears the zenith, and the time for the noon sacrifice is near at hand. You will give me your word, now, that you will wed with Thoor Vil at once, or you will go beneath the burning eye.”
Again there was the clank of weapons, and the Torturer stepped into view before Junia. Behind him came two burly black warriors.
The girl stood up, and said defiantly: “You have asked for my answer. Take it then, nameless one who hides behind a mask lest his face be identified with his own evil deeds. I will not marry the false Vil, my cousin, and your puppet. You have offered me two choices, but Deza presents a third.”
So saying, she suddenly turned and sprang through the window.
“Seize her!” shouted the Torturer. Before she was halfway across the balcony one of the burly blacks had her.
At this Jerry whipped out his sword and sprang from his hiding place. A single bound brought him directly in front of the astounded guard, and a sweeping cut sheared through the fellow’s head from crown to chin.
“Courage, Highness,” he said, as Junia jerked her arm free. He whirled to confront the second warrior, who ran at him with his point extended. Deftly the Earthman parried the thrust, then caught the charging black on his blade.
The masked Torturer was now running toward the door which led to the hallway, bawling for the guard. Jerry snatched his mace from his belt and hurled it with all his might. It flew straight to the mark, smashing into the rear of the golden helmet and flattening the Torturer upon the floor.
Leaping over his foe, Jerry reached the door and shot the bolt, just as a considerable body of men came rushing up from the outside. When they found the door locked they began hacking at it with their weapons, but Jerry knew it would be some time before they could break through.
Sheathing his sword, he caught up his mace and replaced it in his belt. He was tempted to tear the mask from the face of the recumbent Torturer, but knew that he must make every second count in order to carry out his plans. Snatching a blue-and-gold curtain from a doorway, he ran out onto the balcony. Junia was standing near the railing.
“Who are you?” she asked. “Don’t come near me or I’ll jump.”
For answer, he cleared the space between them at a single bound and flung the curtain over her.
“I know you now, Jerry Morgan,” she said, “for there is no other man on Mars who can jump like that. Release me.”
“You must trust me, Highness,” he said, bundling the fabric more tightly about her slender figure, “for I have come to save you. If you resist you will only put us both in peril.”
“How can I trust the murderer of my brother?”
But Jerry had no time to reply. Flinging his bundle over his shoulder, he hurried to where the rope trailed on the balcony. With his dagger he cut off a twelve-foot length, and quickly made a sling by which he swung the girl across his back. He could hear the door of the apartment splintering as he started to climb, hand over hand, toward the balustrade above.
The attendant, seeing the strange bundle upon his back, looked surprised, but Jerry said, sharply: “Bring me my mount quickly, fellow! Can’t you see I’m in a hurry?”
Evidently still puzzled, yet afraid not to obey him, the man waded into the shallows and led the great bird-beast out onto the sand.
Jerry climbed into the saddle, made the thong of the steering rod fast, and, unhooking the safety chains from the gawr’s wings, hooked them through the rings in his belt. At this instant there was a shout from the nearest tunnel mouth, and a group of warriors came running out.
“Stop him!” called an officer. “Stop that slave! He has stolen the Princess!”
The Earthman lifted the guiding rod and the huge bird-beast, after running clumsily along the beach a few feet, spread its great wings and took to the air.
As soon as he was out of javelin range above the palace roof, Jerry turned his mount’s head toward the Plains of Lav beside the Corvid Canal, where he had heard that Numin Vil was encamped. He planned to restore Junia to her father, then escape before his identity was discovered.
Scarcely had he flown across the palace area when a score of warriors mounted on gawrs rose in pursuit. The Temple of Mercy lay directly in his path, and on this he saw that one of the Torturer’s immense burning glasses had been placed. This was surrounded by a group of yellow-robed priests, who were encircled by a company of brown warriors, some of whom led gawrs.
As he flew straight toward them, one of the warriors chanced to look up. Instantly he called the attention of his companions, and in a moment they had mounted and soared aloft to head off the Earthman.
Jerry was now faced with the necessity of flying across the city, almost at right angles to the course he would have chosen. Some time passed before they flew over the great wall which marked the edge of Raliad. Jerry knew that sooner or later, with his doubly laden bird-beast, he would be overtaken and slain unless he could reach a body of his own flying warriors. Accordingly he tried, by turning the head of his mount a little at a time, to steer a course toward the Marsh of Atabah.
He had flown thus for some time when he suddenly noticed that the sun no longer beat down upon him. Looking up, he was astounded to see that it was obscured by the upper fringe of an immense, red-dish-brown cloud which, trailing backward and downward like a ragged, twisted garment, reached clear to the ground.
Never, in all his experience on Mars, had Jerry seen a cloud but he had been told of the terrific sandstorms which sometimes swept the face of the planet.
There could be little question but that the cloud now bearing down upon him with such amazing speed was a cloud of sand and other debris picked up from the surface of the land by tremendously powerful winds. He saw a ragged streamer creep up on his pursuers. It caught them. For a moment they were tossed about like leaves in a gale, then the cloud swallowed them up.
Swiftly Jerry let down his head-cloak and drew the transparent, flexible mask with which it was equipped across his face. Tucking the cloak down around the precious bundle on his back, he awaited the onslaught of the storm. He noticed that his mount dropped a transparent inner eyelid over each eyeball, and a thinly perforated membranous flap over each nostril.
There was a roaring, rumbling noise behind him now, that swiftly increased in volume until the sound was deafening. Then the storm struck.
At the first impact of that giant force the gawr turned completely over, and for a moment Jerry hung from his safety chains. Whirling, hurtling particles of sand beat against his clothing and mask, sifting into the interstices and getting into his eyes, ears, and nostrils. The gawr righted itself, and he dragged himself back to the saddle, gripping the horn and clinging with all his strength.
The world above, below and around him was blotted out by a maelstrom of flying sand.
Hours passed thus, and still the storm showed no sign of abating. Presently the gawr began fluttering weakly, and turning over and over, sank rapidly groundward.
Suddenly it struck a solid object with a terrific impact. Jerry was hurled forward with such force that the safety chains tore out his belt rings.