AFTER Grandon struck his head and lost consciousness in the water-filled lodge room of the Chispoks, his senses returned slowly. At first it seemed that he was in a vast hall—that a gigantic figure was bending over him, shouting something which he could hear only as a faint sound in the distance, and that other immense figures were moving about the room.
But gradually, as he became more rational, the room and everything in it assumed their proper proportions. He saw that he was lying on a sleeping shelf in a room much smaller than that in which he had lost consciousness, and that the supposed giant was Kantar the Gunner, leaning over him. The other occupants of the room were Han Lay, San Thoy, and a half dozen Chispoks.
“Speak to me, Majesty,” Kantar was saying. “Only let me know that you——”
“I’m all right, Gunner. Let me up.” With the astounded and delighted Kantar’s arm beneath his shoulders, he sat up. His head swam dizzily, but gradually it cleared. “Where are we?” he asked.
Han Lay, who had hurried to his bedside as soon as he saw him sit up, bowed and said: “Perhaps I can explain better than the warrior, Your Majesty. You recall that we were attacked by the Rogo’s soldiers in the lodge room?”
“I remember that, and the flood afterward. Then I must have struck my head for all went black.”
“I tried to help you,” continued Han Lay, “but as you were not expecting the sudden rush of waters you were swept off your feet and carried away before I could reach you. Your head collided with the end of a doorway. All the Chispoks, of course, knew how to get out, for we had rehearsed it many times. San Thoy helped your warrior to escape through the secret door, and I dragged you out the same way. The last man out closed it.”
“Then the Rogo’s warriors did not escape?”
“Not one man. But of course it was necessary for us to destroy the building, for there will be an investigation, and we have other buildings similarly equipped. All this was prepared for in advance. The pulling of a lever in this house set off a tremendous charge of explosive which blew the place to atoms. We brought you here to my home, in my boat.”
Grandon stood up to test the strength of his legs. Although the dizziness assailed him for a second time, he was able to stay on his feet.
“Permit me to thank you for saving my life,” he said. “It may be that some day I shall find a way to repay you.”
“You can best repay me by carrying out the plans we outlined before you took the oath of our fraternity.”
“I’ll gladly do that, and more,” replied Grandon. “Give me my instructions, and let me start.”
“You will have little to do until the brothers who will smuggle you into the palace bring you face to face with Yin Yin. If you succeed in slaying him and rescuing Her Majesty, your wife, the Chispoks will not only guarantee to help you escape from the palace by the way you entered, but will further promise to conduct you out of Huitsen and place you aboard a seaworthy craft on the Azpok, with provisions and water sufficient to last you until you reach the shores of your own land. Is this agreeable?”
“Perfectly,” Grandon replied. “But I would be fair with you as you have been with us. What of the secret way into Huitsen which I and my warrior now know? Would you expect us to keep this secret from the rest of Zorovia, in spite of the relentless raids and acts of outlawry which will no doubt continue to be perpetrated by your people?”
“We have provided against that, also,” replied Han Lay, “for we are aware that any one of the twelve great nations of Zorovia, knowing where we are, could easily wipe out Huitsen. However, permit me to point out that, even though you saw the secret passageway and how it was operated, you were not navigating the ship; hence you have no idea just where it is. You saw that the entrance was through a fiord, but there are countless thousands of fiords on this coast, many of which look like this one. All we will need to do will be to blindfold you and those who are to go with you until you are at sea and out of sight of land. The brothers will then direct you how to sail to reach your own country, but you will not be able to find our particular fiord again in many years of careful searching, unless it be by accident or unusual good luck.
“I might say, further, that in the event of the Chispoks succeeding to the point of taking over the government, piracy will be stopped, peace treaties will be signed with all the great nations of Zorovia, and Huitsen will be thrown open to the ships of the world. It was for this principle that the Chispoks were organized. The Huitsenni have been pirates for countless generations. Once our nation was as great and powerful as any on Zorovia, but now we are among the least of powers. Why? The Chispoks hold that commerce has made other nations greater than our own. By the very nature of our livelihood we are debarred from peaceful trading, or commerce of any kind with the exception of an occasional kidnapping for some lascivious ruler, infrequent ransom money for wealthy or influential people captured on the high seas and the little we can get for our plunder in trade and goods from these shady and grasping merchants who run the double risk of dealing with us—first because they fear we may betray them, and second because they may be apprehended and punished by their own people. Naturally they exact exorbitant profits, and our ill-gotten plunder never brings us a tenth of its real worth in exchange.
“The Chispoks are sick of piracy, of this secret slinking from the sight of other nations as the hahoe slinks from the path of the mighty marmelot. We are weary of the constant bloodshed which is a part of our trade. And it is our ambition to place Huitsen on a peaceful footing with all Zorovia, to turn our pirate vessels into merchantmen, to have our people received with friendship and good will whenever they set foot on a foreign shore.”
“A worthy ambition, and I’ll do all I can to further it,” said Grandon.
“Good. And now do you feel strong enough to leave for the palace?”
“Perfectly.”
Han Lay led Grandon and Kantar to his private arsenal, from which each selected a scarbo, knife tork and ammunition. When both were armed he walked with them to the door, and said: “The six brothers here will take you to the palace. They have instructions, and you may trust them implicitly.”
Looking out, Grandon saw that the six Chispoks, attired as fishermen, were standing in a semicircle, which screened the door and the fishing hole beside it, from view.
“Crouch behind the men and descend the ladder,” Han Lay said. “There are two boats moored. Each of you is to get into one and wrap himself in a fishing net. Farewell, and may Thorth guide and keep you.”
Grandon did as directed, and Kantar followed close behind him. Scarcely had they established themselves in the boats, when three pseudo-fishermen descended into each, and rowed away.
Lying in the bottom of the boat, looking up through the meshes of the net, Grandon could see but little. The light from the street lamps shone faintly through the interstices in the planking above his head, and by means of it he could barely make out the outlines of piling and the foundations of the buildings they passed. At times the rowers saluted, and were saluted by the crews of other small fishing boats, but otherwise they maintained unbroken silence.
Presently Grandon saw an immense stone foundation looming ahead of them and stretching to the right and left farther than he could see, in so wide an arc that he knew it must be the base of some tremendous building. Then the prow of the boat in which he rode slid up on a low dock. A moment later he heard another prow grind up beside it. Then one of the pseudo-fishermen spoke.
“Greetings, thalput of the royal kitchens.”
“Greetings, fishermen,” was the reply. “Have you brought the fish, as ordered?”
“The fish are here in the nets.”
“Then bring them and follow me.”
Still wrapped in the net, Grandon was swung up to the shoulders of the three men, who walked across a low dock and entered a large oval door. After following a dimly lighted passageway for some distance, they suddenly turned aside into a narrow doorway. A moment later, the other three strode in after them, and the door was softly closed. Grandon was set on his feet, and the folds of the net were unwound from his body. As soon as Kantar was similarly freed, the six fishermen took their nets and departed, closing the door after them.
They were in a tiny room, faintly lighted by a single dim bulb that shone from the center of the ceiling. The place had metal walls and was bare of furniture. No outlet was visible save the door through which they had come. But he who had been addressed as the kitchen thalput, pressed one of a row of studs, whereupon a panel slid back, revealing the bottom of a narrow spiral stairway, as dimly lighted as the room in which they stood.
“Follow me,” he whispered, “and make no sound. Take care that your weapons do not clink against the walls.”
As soon as Grandon and Kantar had stepped inside, the thalput pressed a stud, and the panel closed behind them. Then he led the way up the spiral stairway. At intervals of about fifteen feet thereafter, they passed sliding panels, above each of which was fastened a dim bulb. When they had reached the ninth panel, the thalput stopped before it. He pressed a stud, and the panel slid back, revealing a dark opening behind scarlet hangings. From behind these came the sound of spirited haggling. The thalput pressed a lower stud, and the panel slid back once more without a sound, shutting off the noise of voices beyond. Then he addressed Grandon:
“In yonder room,” he said, “you will find Her Majesty, your wife, the Rogo of Huitsen, and the Rogo of the Ibbits. I gather from the conversation that the savage chieftain is trying to persuade Yin Yin to sell your wife to him. I leave you here to lay your plans as may seem best to you. If you succeed, you will find me at the foot of the steps, and the boats and fishermen will be ready to convey you hence: Farewell, brother Chispoks, and may Thorth guide your scarbos! Death to the tyrant!”
As the thalput began his descent of the stair, Grandon said: “My plans are made, Gunner, and I want you to carry out your part as ordered, without giving heed to what may follow. I will go in and engage those two drunken rogos in combat. It will be your part to rescue my wife while I am so doing. My positive instructions to you are that, no matter what odds I may have to fight, no matter if you see me fall and at the mercy of my enemies, you must not join in the fight. Instead bend every effort toward rescuing Her Majesty. Convey her down the stairway as soon as possible, and do not wait for me. Take one of the boats, and be off immediately, to the place of refuge which the Chispoks have prepared for us. If I live I will follow. If not, our chief object will have been accomplished—the rescue of my wife; and you will do your best to get her safely back to Reabon. Do you understand?”
“Perfectly. But to see Your Majesty go down and not—”
“What! I was under the impression that a soldier was with me.”
“But, Majesty—
“A soldier obeys orders implicitly.”
“Yes, Majesty.”
“You will so obey.”
“I will so obey, Majesty.”
“Good. Wait here until you hear the clash of blades. Then enter, and carry out your instructions to the letter.”
“To the letter, Majesty.”
Grandon pressed the upper stud and the panel slid open. A woman’s scream and a man’s voice saying: “Come, my little beauty, we have outworn our welcome,” spurred him to instant action. Leaping through the panel, he flung the scarlet hangings wide, and stepped into the room, bared blade in hand.
At a glance, he saw that he would have four swordsmen to contend with instead of two. One eunuch held a door open while another stood opposite him. A tall hairy fellow with a white fur cloak was dragging a pretty, brown-eyed girl toward the door. And the fat, greasy Rogo of Huitsen was waddling toward Vernia, grinning drunkenly.
At the sight of Grandon, Vernia cried: “Bob! My dearest I knew you would come!”
Yin Yin turned and whipped out his scarbo. Heg, Rogo of the Ibbits, dropped the arm of the brown-eyed girl, and also drew his blade, leaping toward Grandon. The two eunuchs caught up their heavy weapons and followed. There was a clash of steel on steel. Yin Yin parried once and struck once. Then his head flew from his shoulders, thudded to the floor, and rolled beneath the divan. For an instant the headless body stood there, blood spouting from the neck as from a fountain. Then it collapsed, a quivering mound of flabby flesh.
Grandon turned to face three blades. The brown-eyed Princess, meanwhile, had run across the room to stand beside Vernia. Instead of waiting on guard, the Earth-man attacked with a brilliant display of that swordsmanship which had made him famous throughout all Zorovia. Before his fierce onslaught, the three gave way. His blade seemed to be everywhere at once, flashing with the speed of lightning.
Heg was disarmed, almost with the second slash he made at Grandon, his weapon flying behind a divan. But he leaped nimbly back, then drawing his knife, strove to encircle the Earth-man, evidently for the purpose of knifing him in the back. Grandon guessed his intention, but was now so beset by the two eunuchs with their long, two-handed scarbos, that he could give the hairy chieftain but scant attention. Once when he thought the savage Rogo was just behind him, he slashed back for an instant with his scarbo, but the blade encountered only empty air, and he came near having his head split open by the nearest eunuch. He stepped aside just in time, and as the heavy blade crashed to the floor, its wielder received a thrust in the throat and followed his master into the great beyond. With this fellow out of the way, Grandon quickly disposed of the other with a leg cut followed by a swift neck blow that sent the head of the slave to keep company with that of the master.
Whirling to face his furry enemy, Grandon was astounded to see that save for himself and three corpses, the room was deserted. He instantly came to the conclusion that Kantar had rescued both Vernia and the strange, black-haired Princess. But what he wondered had become of this furry fellow from the antarctic? Puzzled, he was about to return to the panel opening when he heard a cry—the voice of Vernia.
“Bob! The window! Quickly!”
He leaped through the window, and peered over the balcony railing. Below him he saw the hairy chieftain dropping with ape-like agility from balcony to balcony, using one arm to swing himself down and holding Vernia with the other. The courtyard below was packed with furry warriors mounted on zandars. One saddled beast was being led to a point just under the lowest balcony.
Sheathing his bloody scarbo, and unmindful of the dizzy height, Grandon swung himself over the railing, and began dropping from balcony to balcony. But before he was half-way down, the furry rogo was in the saddle, with Vernia, wrapped in a zandar cloak and swung across the bow. He gave a few swift orders, then galloped off. With the exception of one man, the entire cavalcade followed him. That man sat his mount beneath the lowest balcony, evidently left there to slay Grandon, for his long lance with its queer, corkscrew head was slightly pointed at the spot where the Earth-man would shortly alight.