CAUTIOUSLY parting the scarlet drapes which hid the doorway, I saw that the heavy doors had been bolted. Tandor had evidently intended that he should not be disturbed.
I expected that there would be guards in the corridor, and therefore decided that a bold front would serve our purpose the best. I appropriated one of Tandor’s magnificent belts with ornate sword and dagger, and outfitted Loralie likewise with one of Xunia’s belts which contained lighter weapons. Then we walked quietly to the doors, which I unbolted and swung back. The guards saluted stiffly and closed them after us as we passed out.
“It is the command of his majesty,” I said, “that he be not disturbed by messengers or others.”
“To hear is to obey,” replied both guards in unison as we strolled away down the corridor.
I only knew my way to one part of the building—the landing floor. After threading so many hallways, passageways and ramps that I had begun to think I had lost my way, we came out on the central landing platform, from which radiated the cables that carried the swift-moving octagonal cars to the various power houses of Doravia.
Glancing in the direction of the twin towers, I saw a car swiftly approaching from each and surmised that Xunia and Tandor were already on the way to the palace.
“Quick!” I said to Loralie. “We have not a moment to lose!”
Hurrying her to the side of a car which hung on a cable that pointed toward the south, I helped her aboard—then spoke to the pilot. “It is the desire of his majesty the Torrogo that we inspect some of the buildings of Doravia. You will first take us to the power plant at the southernmost end of the valley.”
He saluted respectfully, then moved a control lever. The doors closed and we glided smoothly away from the platform. In a moment we were speeding swiftly southward at a dizzy height above the valley.
One by one we sped past the towers which dotted the river bank, so swiftly that each washed for but an instant in our range of vision. Yet it seemed to me that our pace was exasperatingly slow, for I knew that Tandor would surely reach the central tower before we arrived at our destination; if he made inquiry at the landing platform he would flash a message to the commander of the southern tower, and we would face arrest as soon as we arrived.
I accordingly loosened my blade in its scabbard and spoke softly to Loralie. “We must be ready to make a dash for it as soon as the doors open. Keep behind me, and I’ll try to cut a way through.”
As we drew up to the landing platform I saw a score of guards lined up to meet us. In front of them stood a captain with drawn sword.
The doors opened and we stepped out.
“By order of His Majesty . . . ” began the officer.
I did not wait for him to finish but whipped out my sword and beheaded him before he could say more. Then I sprang forward and cut my way through the line of surprised guardsmen with Loralie close behind me. She drew her own weapon, and used it with more skill than I had believed possible in a woman.
As we dashed off down a corridor we met two more guards, but they were crude swordsmen and detained us but for a moment. On coming to a transverse corridor, we turned, hoping thus to elude our pursuers; but a moment later they rounded the turn, and at the same time I saw a large party of men closing in on us from the opposite direction.
“We’re trapped,” I said, “and this is a poor place to make a stand. We’ll turn in at the next doorway we come to.”
There were doors on both sides of the corridor at intervals of about fifty feet, and I accordingly stopped at the next and wrenched it open. Without looking to see what was within, I pushed my companion into the opening. Hearing a scream and a thud, I leaped in after her, but scarcely had I slammed the door ere my feet slipped from under me, and, half lying, half sitting, I found myself sliding down a steep spiral incline in total darkness at a terrific rate of speed.
For several minutes I continued my downward course uninterrupted. Then the incline grew less steep and I glided over a series of humps which retarded my progress. A moment later I shot out into the air and daylight, my feet struck a cushioned wall, and I fell on a thickly padded floor.
Springing to my feet, I saw Loralie standing with drawn sword, facing a huge guard. A short distance behind him wavelets from the river lapped the edge of the floor on which a half-dozen narrow, pointed boats made from the transparent metal were moored.
As I dashed forward, the guard struck her sword from her hand and attempted to seize the princess, but ere he could do so I sprang between them and our blades met. Aside from Tandor himself, he was the cleverest swordsman I had encountered in Doravia.
Back and forth we fought on that moist, slippery floor, until I succeeded in forcing him to the water’s edge. Binding his blade with my own, I pushed it upward, and leaping in close, struck him in the breast with my left fist. He toppled for a moment on the brink—then fell into the river behind and sank out of sight.
At this instant I heard the clank of arms in the chute behind us, followed by the thud of a body against the padded walls, then another and another.
Quickly flinging Loralie into one of the boats, I slid it to the water’s edge, leaped in and shoved off. Four spadelike paddles lay in the bottom, and seizing one of these I managed to get several boat lengths from the shore before our pursuers reached the water’s edge.
The first boatload was not long in putting off after us, and with four paddles working it gained on us rapidly. Behind it, another and another left the shore until five in all pursued us.
Seeing that it would be only a few moments before we were overhauled, I strung my bow and shot an arrow at the foremost paddler. Although it pierced his breast it did not seem to discommode him in any way. He paddled forward as briskly as ever, pausing only to snap off the shaft and fling it into the water. I tried a second shot, this time aiming for his head, but the arrow glanced harmlessly off his glittering, transparent helmet.
Loralie, following my example, also strung her bow and tried a shot at the second paddler. It struck him in the arm, but he broke off the shaft and continued his paddling as if nothing had struck him.
“Save your arrows,” I said as a plan suddenly occurred to me. Quickly unwinding a length of the cord I still had with me, I looped part of it and cut it in short pieces. Then I took from the ammunition belt of Talibot a clip marked “Tork Projectiles—Explosive.” Extracting one, I bound it to the head of an arrow and discharged it at the first paddler. He grinned derisively as he saw me raise my bow, but his grin disappeared, together with most of the upper part of his mechanical anatomy when the missile exploded.
Passing several projectiles and bits of string to Loralie, I quickly prepared another arrow and blew a second pursuer out of existence. By this time the first boat was less than thirty feet from us, and I knew I would not have time to prepare a third arrow, so I drew my sword and made ready for the attack of the two guardsmen who remained in this boat. But before they came alongside there was only one, as Loralie, having prepared one arrow, proceeded to blow the other to bits.
The last remaining guardsman leaped to his feet as the slender prow of his boat struck the rear of ours. Dropping my sword in the bottom of our boat, I quickly tipped his boat to one side. The fellow tried to maintain his balance by throwing his weight in the opposite direction but I had anticipated this, and as he did so I reversed the tilt of his boat, precipitating him into the water where he sank out of sight.
So occupied had I been with our pursuers that I had not noticed whither the swift current was carrying us. My first intimation of danger from this source was a bump and a grinding noise as our keel struck and then slid over a submerged rock, nearly capsizing us. I seized a paddle and swung our craft parallel with the current just as we were precipitated into a seething, whirling rapids, from the foaming surface of which projected numerous jagged rocks.
I bent all my efforts to the task of avoiding the dangerous rocks which loomed ahead as we shot forward with alarming speed, now on the crest of a huge wave, now in a hollow so deep we could not see out of it. As we advanced the river became narrower, the rapids steeper, and the rocks more menacing. It appeared that the River of Life—for such Pangar had named it to me—might become, for us, the River of Death.
Try as I would, I could not keep our craft from repeatedly colliding with the rough boulders that now beset our path. The strength of its transparent metal sides astonished me.
We were nearly through the rapids, and I was just breathing a sigh of relief, when the unexpected happened. Our prow struck a hidden point of rock, the boat swung broadside, and we turned over.
I heard a scream from Loralie as I plunged into the water, head first. The metal paddle to which I had unconsciously clung as I fell quickly carried me to the jagged bottom. I let go and swam as rapidly as I could to the surface. Shaking the water from my eyes I looked around. The swift current had already taken me beyond the foot of the rapids into deeper water. I could see no sign of the princess, though I craned my neck in every direction.
Our overturned boat had drifted past me, and three more boats were swiftly descending the rapids, bottom up, but behind them came two more, in each of which sat four Doravian guardsmen.
Filling my lungs, I dived for the spot where I thought Loralie might be, and swam under water for some distance.
Upon again coming to the surface, I saw her swimming for the shore about a hundred feet ahead of me. Our drifting boat had hidden her from my view.
I saw the first boatload of Doravians pass the bottom of the rapids unscathed as I struck out after the princess. But as soon as they reached calmer water they plied their paddles with such dexterity that I knew they would overtake me long before I could reach the shore.
Although I was greatly hampered by the weight of my weapons, I hesitated to part with them, since I could not possibly get to land ahead of that boat, even if I were stripped.
Presently the boat came within fifteen feet of me. The foremost guardsman laid down his paddle and drew his sword. Raising the weapon above his head, he leaned out over the bow to dispatch me. At this instant I dived, and describing a loop under water, came up just under the stern of the boat. Seizing it in both hands, I capsized the craft, plunging my four assailants into the water. None of them reappeared. The metal men apparently could not swim.
By this time the last boat had negotiated the rapids and was paddling swiftly toward me. Again I struck out for land, this time with some hope of making it. Loralie, who had just reached the shore, called out to me, “Hurry. A silticum is coming this way.”
I looked back, and my first view of a silticum was none too reassuring. It was an enormous reptile with a green lizardlike body, serpentine neck, and a head of immense proportions.
I struck out desperately for the shore, and the paddlers increased their efforts. The noise they made attracted the attention of the reptile. Suddenly swerving, it made for the boat.
As I was quite near the shore I lowered a foot, struck bottom, and waded out just as I stepped on the sloping beach, an exclamation from the princess made me turn.
With serpentine neck arched and mighty jaws distended, the huge saurian lunged downward, straight for the center of the boat. One of the occupants rammed his sword in that cavernous maw, and two others slashed at the scaly neck, but with no apparent effect on the reptile. It seized the boat in its immense jaws and lifting it high out of the water, shook it as a terrier shakes a rat. Hurtling through the air to the right and left, the bodies of the four Doravians fell into the river and disappeared.
“Come,” said Loralie, tugging at me arm. “That creature is as swift on land as in the water. Let us get out of its sight before it takes a notion to follow us.”
“With pleasure,” I responded, and together we hurried up the bank and plunged into the fern forest.
For some time we ran forward, side by side, sinking ankle-deep in the soft moss that carpeted the forest floor.
“I’m thirsty,” said Loralie, “and hungry. Aren’t you?”
“Ravenous. Nothing will satisfy me but a good big steak. Spore pods are all right for appetizers, but to satisfy hunger there is nothing like meat.”
“I’ve lost my bow and arrows,” she said, ruefully, “along with that clip of explosive projectiles you gave me. I dropped everything when the boat tipped over.”
“Never mind. I still have my bow, plenty of arrows, and another clip of explosive projectiles. It’s a man’s place to bring in the game, anyway, while the woman looks after the home.”
“The home? What do you mean?”
“Why—er—that is, I was just drawing a comparison between ourselves and primitive people. The man went hunting, you know, while his mate looked after the cave, or tree, or whatever they lived in.”
“His mate? I fail to see the comparison.”
“Well, you know we’re leading a rather primitive existence just now, and . . . ”
“Prince Zinlo,” she said, suddenly stopping and facing me, “will you cease talking generalities and tell me just what you mean?”
“Yes,” I cried vehemently. “I’ll tell you what I mean. I hadn’t intended to, but it seems my words betray my thoughts. I love you, Loralie. I want you for my mate—my princess. But as you so plainly dislike me I shall probably go on desiring you until the destroyer of all desires puts an end to my existence.”
“I was beginning to wonder,” she said softly, “if I would ever get you to say it.”
Before I realized the purport of her words her arms were around my neck—her warm red lips upturned, inviting. I crushed her to me, and found her a new Loralie—tender, yielding, passionate.
“I’ve loved you since the very hour we met,” she said, “when you tossed my presuming cousin into the shrubbery.”
Her hand caressed my cheek, roving softly over my rugged face. But as I bent to claim the sweetness of her lips, I heard a twig crack behind me, and I whirled about, hand on hilt.
To my amazement I beheld Prince Gadrimel, standing only a short distance from us. “A thousand pardons for this intrusion,” he lisped. “By the beard of Thorth, I could not find the heart to disturb so pretty a love scene, were it not that darkness approaches and the camp is a considerable journey from here.”
Too astonished to reply, I could only stare at him as he stood with a mocking smile on his effeminate features, toying with a jeweled pendant on his breast and ogling Loralie.
“No doubt you are glad to see me, fair cousin,” he continued in his mincing patoa, grinning at the princess, “so glad that the joy of my coming overwhelms you—renders you speechless. Come, haven’t you at least a little cousinly kiss for your deliverer who has come so far to rescue you? You appear to lavish your caresses quite generously outside the family.”
My blood boiled at his studied insolence, his air of proprietorship, yet I strove to control my feelings as I answered him. “The kisses of the Princess Loralie are her own to bestow. You will do well to remember that, Prince Gadrimel.”
“And you, Prince Zinlo, will do well to speak only when spoken to.” Gadrimel held out a hand to Loralie. “Come, cousin, let us get to camp before darkness falls. By tomorrow we will be aboard my flagship and well on our way to my father’s palace.”
The princess drew closer to me and looked up into my face as she answered, “Prince Zinlo is my fiance. I’ll go where he goes.”
“This nonsense has gone far enough,” said Gadrimel, sharply. “Ho, warriors!”
Scarcely had he uttered his call ere there closed in on us from the surrounding fern brakes a full hundred armed men of Adonijar.
“Seize and bind this interloper,” he commanded, pointing to me.
When this had been done, Gadrimel stationed a stalwart soldier at my side. “Remain here with the prisoner, until we have passed out of earshot. Then . . . ” He stepped close to the soldier and whispered something to him. “For which,” he concluded, as he stepped back, “you may have his weapons, accouterments and anything else of value he may have with him.”
Loralie attempted to come to me as I stood there, bound hand and foot, but two soldiers prevented her.
“What are you going to do to him?” she cried.
“Now, now. Calm yourself, sweet cousin,” said Gadrimel. “I am but sending him on a journey. I must insist that you hurry to camp with me at once, or darkness will overtake us on the way; the night-roving beasts will not be pleasant to meet in this forest.”
In spite of her struggles he dragged her away. Behind them moved the entire company of warriors with the single exception of the one who had been instructed to remain with me. He stood immobile, listening until the sound of voices and the clank of weapons had died away in the distance. Then he turned to me.
“I have been commanded to kill you, Highness,” he said, simply. “Never before have I slain a bound and helpless man, but I am a soldier of Adonijar and may not disobey the command of my prince. However, I was not instructed as to how I should kill you, and I bear you no malice. By what weapon do you choose to die?”
“The sword,” I replied, “has ever been my favorite weapon. If I must die now, let it be by the sword.”
“The sword?” he asked in puzzlement.
“That long straight-bladed weapon in the sheath at my feet,” I answered. “Plunge it into my heart and get it over quickly.”
Slowly he bent over and withdrew the sword from its sheath. He examined it curiously, testing the sharpness of its point with his palm and the keenness of its edge with his thumb.
“By the blood of Thorth!” he exclaimed. “This is a beautiful weapon. And it will be mine as soon as I have slain you. Make ready, now, to die.”