directly to me and unlocked my fetters. As he turned to unlock those
which held Nur An, he turned his back to me and I could not but note
his inexcusable carelessness. His companion lolled at the doorway while
the first warrior bent over the padlock that held the fetters of Nur An.
My ancestors were kind to me; little had I expected such an opportunity
as this, yet I waited--like a great banth ready to spring I waited
until he should have released Nur An, and then, as the fetters fell
away from my companion, I flung myself upon the back of the warrior. He
sprawled forward upon his face on the stone flagging, falling heavily
beneath my weight, and as he did so I snatched his dagger from its
sheath and plunged it between his shoulder blades. With a single cry he
died, but I had no fear that the echo of that cry would carry upward
out of the gloomy pits of Tjanath to warn his fellows upon the level
above.
But the fellow's companion had seen and heard and with a bound he was
across the dungeon, his long sword ready in his hand, and now I was to
see the mettle of which Nur An was made.
The affair had occurred so quickly, like a bolt of lightning out
of a clear sky, that any man might have been excused had he been
momentarily stunned into inactivity by the momentousness of my act, but
Nur An was guilty of no fatal delay. As though we had planned the thing
together it seemed that he leaped forward the instant that I sprang for
the warrior and ran to meet his companion. Barehanded, he faced the
long sword of his antagonist.
The gloom of the dungeon reduced the advantage of the armed man. He saw
a figure leaping to meet his attack and in the excitement of the moment
and in the dark of the cell, he did not know that Nur An was unarmed.
He hesitated, paused and stepped back to receive the impetuous attack
coming out of the darkness, and in that instant I had whipped the long
sword of the fallen warrior from its scabbard and was charging the
fellow at a slightly different angle from Nur An.
An instant later we were engaged and I found the fellow no mean
swordsman; yet from the instant that our blades crossed I knew that
I was his master and he must soon have realized it, too, for he fell
back, fully on the defensive, evidently bent upon escaping to the
corridor. This, however, I was determined not to permit and so I
pressed him so closely that he dared not turn to run; nor did he call
for help, and this, I guess, was because he realized the futility of so
doing.
With the desperation of caged animals Nur An and I were fighting for
our lives. There could be no question here of the scrupulous observance
of the niceties of combat. It was his life or ours. Realizing this, Nur
An snatched the short sword from the corpse of the fallen warrior and
an instant later the second man was lying in a pool of his own blood.
"And now what?" asked Nur An.
"Are you familiar with the palace?" I asked.
"No," he replied.
"Then we must depend upon what little I was able to glean from my
observation of it," I said. "Let us get into the harnesses of these two
men at once. Perhaps they will offer a sufficient disguise to permit
us to reach one of the upper levels at least, for without an intimate
knowledge of the pits it is useless for us to try to seek escape below
ground."
"You are right," he said, and a few moments later we emerged into the
corridors, to all intents and purposes, two warriors of the guard of
Haj Osis, Jed of Tjanath. Believing that up to a certain point boldness
of demeanor would be our best safeguard against detection, I led the
way toward the ground level of the palace without attempting in any way
to resort to stealth or secrecy.
"There are many warriors at the main entrance of the palace," I told
Nur An, "and without knowing something of the regulations governing the
coming and going of the inmates of the building, it would be suicidal
to attempt to reach the avenue beyond the palace by that route."
"What do you suggest then?" he asked.
"The ground level of the palace is a busy place, people are coming and
going constantly through the corridors. Doubtless some of the upper
levels are less frequented. Let us therefore seek a hiding place higher
up and from the vantage point of some balcony we may be able to work
out a feasible plan of escape."
"Good!" he said. "Lead on!"
Ascending the winding ramp from the lower pits, we passed two levels
before we reached the ground level of the palace, without meeting a
single person, but the instant that we emerged upon the ground level
we saw people everywhere; officers, courtiers, warriors, slaves and
merchants moved to and fro upon their various duties or in pursuit
of the business that had brought them to the palace, but their very
numbers proved a safeguard for us.
Upon the side of the corridor opposite from the point at which we
entered it lay an arched entrance to another ramp running upward.
Without an instant's hesitation I crossed through the throng of people,
and, with Nur An at my side, passed beneath the arch and entered the
ascending ramp.
Scarcely had we started upward when we met a young officer descending.
He accorded us scarcely a glance as we passed and I breathed more
easily as I realized that our disguises did, in fact, disguise us.
There were fewer people on the second level of the palace, but yet far
too many to suit me and so we continued on upward to the third level,
the corridors of which we found almost deserted.
Near the mouth of the ramp lay the intersection of two main corridors.
Here we hesitated for an instant to reconnoiter. There were people
approaching from both directions along the corridor into which we had
emerged, but in one direction the transverse corridor seemed deserted
and we quickly entered it. It was a very long corridor, apparently
extending the full length of the palace. It was flanked at intervals
upon both sides by doorways, the doors to some of which were open,
while others were closed or ajar. Through some of the open doorways
we saw people, while the apartments revealed through others appeared
vacant. The location of these we noted carefully as we moved slowly
along, carefully observing every detail that might later prove of value
to us.
We had traversed about two-thirds of this long corridor when a man
stepped into it from a doorway a couple of hundred feet ahead of us.
He was an officer, apparently a padwar of the guard. He halted in the
middle of the corridor as a file of warriors emerged from the same
doorway, and, forming in a column of twos, marched in our direction,
the officer bringing up the rear.
Here was a test for our disguises that I did not care to risk. There
was an open doorway at our left; beyond it I could see no one. "Come!"
I said to Nur An, and without accelerating our speed we walked
nonchalantly into the chamber, and as Nur An crossed the threshold, I
closed the door behind him and as I did so I saw a young woman standing
at the opposite side of the apartment looking squarely at us.
"What do you here, warriors?" she demanded.
Here, indeed, was an embarrassing situation. In the corridor without I
could hear the clank of the accoutrements of the approaching warriors
and I knew that the girl must hear it, too. If I did aught to arouse
her suspicion, she had but to call for help, and how might I allay her
suspicion when I had not the faintest conception of what might pass
for a valid excuse for the presence of two warriors in this particular
apartment, which for all I knew, might be the apartment of a princess
of the royal house, to enter which without permission might easily mean
death to a common warrior. I thought quickly, or perhaps I did not
think at all; often we act rightly upon impulse and then credit the
result to super-intelligence.
"We have come for the girl," I stated brusquely. "Where is she?"
"What girl?" demanded the young woman in surprise.
"The prisoner, of course," I replied.
"The prisoner?" she looked more puzzled than before.
"Of course," said Nur An, "the prisoner. Where is she?" and I almost
smiled for I knew that Nur An had not the faintest idea of what was in
my mind.
"There is no prisoner here," said the young woman. "These are the
apartments of the infant son of Haj Osis."
"The fool misdirected us," I said. "We are sorry that we intruded. We
were sent to fetch the girl, Tavia, who is a prisoner in the palace."
It was only a guess. I did not know that Tavia was a prisoner, but
after the treatment that had been accorded me I surmised as much.
"She is not here," said the young woman, "and as for you, you had
better leave these apartments at once for if you are discovered here it
will go ill with you."
Nur An, who was standing beside me, had been looking at the young woman
intently. He stepped forward now, closer to her.
"By my first ancestor," he exclaimed in a low voice, "it is Phao!"
The girl stepped back, her eyes wide with surprise and then slowly
recognition dawned within them. "Nur An!" she exclaimed.
Nur An came close to the girl and took her hand in his. "All these
years, Phao, I have thought that you were dead," he said. "When the
ship returned the captain reported that you and a number of others were
killed."
"He lied," said the girl. "He sold us into slavery here in Tjanath; but
you, Nur An, what are you doing here in the harness of Tjanath?"
"I am a prisoner," replied my companion, "as is this warrior also. We
have been confined in the pits beneath the palace and today we were to
have died The Death, but we killed the two warriors who were sent to
fetch us and now we are trying to find our way out of the palace."
"Then you are not looking for the girl, Tavia?" she asked.
"Yes," I said, "we are looking for her, too. She was made a prisoner at
the same time that I was."
"Perhaps I can help you," said Phao; "perhaps," she added wistfully,
"we may all escape together."
"I shall not escape without you, Phao," said Nur An.
"My ancestors have been good to me at last," said the girl.
"Where is Tavia?" I asked.
"She is in the East Tower," replied Phao.
"Can you lead us there, or tell us how we may reach it?" I asked.
"It would do no good to lead you to it," she replied, "as the door is
locked and guards stand before it. But there is another way."
"And that?" I asked.
"I know where the keys are," she said, "and I know other things that
will prove helpful."
"May our ancestors protect and reward you, Phao," I said. "And now tell
me where I may find the keys."
"I shall have to lead you to the place myself," she replied, "but
we shall stand a better chance to succeed if there are not too many
of us. I, therefore, suggest that Nur An remain here. I shall place
him in hiding where he will not be found. I will then lead you to
the prisoner, and, if possible, we will make our way back to this
apartment. I am in charge here. Only at regular hours, twice a day,
night and morning, does any other visit the apartment of the little
prince. Here I can hide you and feed you for a long time and perhaps
eventually we shall be able to evolve some feasible plan for escape."
"We are in your hands, Phao," said Nur An. "If there is to be fighting,
though, I should like to accompany Hadron."
"If we succeed there will be no fighting," replied the girl. She
stepped quickly across the room to a door, which she opened, revealing
a large closet. "Here, Nur An," she said, "is where you must remain
until we return. There is no reason why anyone should open this door,
and in so far as I know, it never has been opened since I have occupied
these quarters, except by me."
"I do not like the idea of hiding," said Nur An with a grimace, "but--I
have had to do many things recently that I did not like," and without
more words he crossed the apartment and entered the closet. Their eyes
met for an instant before Phao closed the door, and I read in the depth
of both that which made me wonder, remembering as I did the story that
Nur An had told me of the other woman whom Tul Axtar had stolen from
him. But such matters were no concern of mine, nor had they any bearing
upon the business at hand.
"Here is my plan, warrior," said Phao as she returned to my side. "When
you entered this apartment you came saying that you were looking for
the prisoner, Tavia. Although she was not here, I believed you. We
will go, therefore, to Yo Seno, the keeper of the keys, and you will
tell him the same story that you have been sent to fetch the prisoner,
Tavia. If Yo Seno believes you, all will be well, for he will go
himself and release the prisoner, turning her over to you."
"And if he does not believe me?" I asked.
"He is a beast," she said, "who is better dead than alive. Therefore
you will know what to do."
"I understand," I said. "Lead the way."
The office of Yo Seno, the keeper of the keys, was upon the fourth
level of the palace, almost directly above the quarters of the infant
prince. At the doorway Phao halted, and drawing my ear down to her
lips, whispered her final instructions. "I shall enter first," she
said, "upon some trivial errand. A moment later you may enter, but pay
no attention to me. It must not appear that we have come together."
"I understand," I said, and walked a few paces along the corridor
so that I should not be in sight when the door opened. She told me
afterward that she asked Yo Seno to have a new key made for one of the
numerous doors in the apartment of the little prince.
I waited but a moment, and then I, too, entered the apartment. It
was a gloomy room without windows. Upon its walls hung keys of every
imaginable size and shape. Behind a large desk sat a coarse looking
man, who looked up quickly and scowled at the interruption as I entered.
"Well?" he demanded.
"I have come for the woman, Tavia," I said, "the prisoner from Jahar."
"Who sent you? What do you want of her?" he demanded.
"I have orders to bring her to Haj Osis," I replied.
He looked at me suspiciously. "You bring a written order?" he asked.
"Of course not," I replied, "it is not necessary. She is not to be
taken out of the palace; merely from one apartment to another."
"I must have a written order," he snapped.
"Haj Osis will not be pleased," I said, "when he learns that you have
refused to obey his command."
"I am not refusing," said Yo Seno. "Do not dare to say that I refuse.
I cannot turn a prisoner over without a written order. Show me your
authority and I will give you the keys."
I saw that the plan had failed; other measures must be taken. I whipped
out my long sword. "Here is my authority!" I exclaimed, leaping toward
him.
With an oath he drew his own sword, but instead of facing me with it he
stepped quickly back, the desk still between us and, turning, struck a
copper gong heavily with the flat of his blade.
As I rushed toward him I heard the sound of hurrying feet and the clank
of metal from an adjoining room. Yo Seno, still backing away, sneered
sardonically, and then the lights went out and the windowless room
was plunged into darkness. Soft fingers grasped my left hand and a low
voice whispered in my ear, "Come with me."
Quickly I was drawn to one side and through a narrow aperture just as
a door upon the opposite side of the chamber was flung open, revealing
the forms of half a dozen warriors silhouetted against the light from
the room behind them. Then the door closed directly in front of my face
and I was again in utter darkness, but Phao's fingers still grasped my
hand.
"Silence!" a soft voice whispered.
From beyond the panels I heard angry and excited voices. Above the
others one voice rose in tones of authority. "What is wrong here?"
There were muttered exclamations and curses as men bumped against
pieces of furniture and ran into one another.
"Give us a light," cried a voice, and a moment later, "That is better."
"Where is Yo Seno? Oh, there you are, you fat rascal. What is amiss?"
"By Issus! he is gone." The voice was that of Yo Seno.
"Who is gone?" demanded the other voice. "Why did you summon us?"
"I was attacked by a warrior," explained Yo Seno, "who came demanding
the key to the apartment where Haj Osis keeps the daughter of--." I
could not hear the rest of the sentence.
"Well, where is the man?" demanded the other.
"He is gone--and the key, too. The key is gone," Yo Seno's voice rose
almost to a wail.
"Quick, then, to the apartment where the girl is kept," cried the first
speaker, doubtless the officer of the guard, and almost at once I heard
them hasten from the apartment.
The girl at my side moved a little and I heard a low laugh. "They will
not find the key," she said.
"Why?" I asked.
"Because I have it," she replied.
"Little good it will do us," I said ruefully. "They will keep the door
well guarded now and we cannot use the key."
Phao laughed again. "We do not need the key," she said. "I took it
to throw them off the track. They will watch the door while we enter
elsewhere."
"I do not understand," I said.
"This corridor leads between the partitions to the room where the
prisoner is kept. I know that because, when I was a prisoner in that
room, Yo Seno came thus to visit me. He is a beast. I hope he has not
visited this girl--I hope it for your sake, if you love her."
"I do not love her," I said. "She is only a friend." But I scarcely
knew what I was saying, the words seemed to come mechanically for I
was in the grip of such an emotion as I never before had experienced
or endured. It had seized me the instant that Phao had suggested
that Yo Seno might have visited Tavia through this secret corridor.
I experienced a sensation that was almost akin to a convulsion--a
sensation that left me a changed man. Before, I could have killed Yo
Seno with my sword and been glad; now I wanted to tear him to pieces; I
wanted to mutilate him and make him suffer. Never before in my life had
I experienced such a bestial desire. It was hideous, and yet I gloated
in its possession.
"What is the matter?" exclaimed Phao. "I thought I felt you tremble
then."
"I trembled," I said.
"For what?" she asked.
"For Yo Seno," I replied, "but let us hasten. If this corridor leads to
the apartment where Tavia is in prison, I cannot reach her too soon,
for when Haj Osis learns that the key has been stolen he will have her
removed to another prison."
"He will not learn it if Yo Seno and the padwar of the guard can
prevent," said Phao, "for if this reached the ears of Haj Osis it might
easily cost them both their lives. They will wait for you to come that
they may kill you and get the key, but they will wait outside the
prison door and you will not come that way."
As she spoke she started to walk along the narrow, dark corridor,
leading me by the hand behind her. It was slow work for Phao had to
grope her way slowly because the corridor turned sharply at right
angles as it followed the partitions of the apartments between which it
passed, and there were numerous stairways that led up over doorways and
finally a ladder to the level above.
Presently she halted. "We are there," she whispered, "but we must
listen first to make sure that no one has entered the apartment with
the prisoner."
I could see absolutely nothing in the darkness, and how Phao knew that
she had reached her destination, I could not guess.
"It is all right," she said presently, and simultaneously she pushed a
wooden panel ajar and in the opening I saw a portion of the interior
of a circular apartment with narrow windows heavily barred. Opposite
the opening, upon a pile of sleeping silks and furs, I saw a woman
reclining. Only a bare shoulder, a tiny ear and a head of tousled hair
were visible. At the first glance I knew that they were Tavia's.
As we stepped into the apartment Phao closed the panel behind us.
Attracted by the sound of our entrance, quietly executed though it was,
Tavia sat up and looked at us and then, as she recognized me, sprang to
her feet. Her eyes were wide with surprise and there was an exclamation
upon her lips, which I silenced by a warning forefinger placed against
my own. I crossed the apartment toward her, and she came to meet me,
almost running. As I looked into her eyes I saw an expression there
that I have never seen in the eyes of any other woman--at least not for
me--and if I had ever doubted Tavia's friendship, such a doubt would
have vanished in that instant, but I had not doubted it and I was only
surprised now to realize the depth of it. Had Sanoma Tora ever looked
at me like that I should have read love in the expression, but I had
never spoken of love to Tavia and so I knew that it was only friendship
that she felt. I had always been too much engrossed in my profession
to make any close friendships so that I had never realized until that
moment what a wonderful thing friendship might be.
As we met in the center of the room her eyes, moist with tears, were
upturned to mine. "Hadron," she whispered, her voice husky with
emotion, and then I put my arm about her slender shoulders and drew
her to me and something that was quite beyond my volition impelled me
to kiss her upon the forehead. Instantly she disengaged herself and I
feared that she had misunderstood that impulsive kiss of friendship,
but her next words reassured me.
"I thought never to see you again, Hadron of Hastor," she said. "I
feared that they had killed you. How comes it that you are here and in
the metal of a warrior of Tjanath?"
I told her briefly of what had occurred to me since we had been
separated and of how I had temporarily, at least, escaped The Death.
She asked me what The Death was, but I could not tell her.
"It is very horrible," said Phao.
"What is it?" I asked.
"I do not know," replied the girl, "only that it is horrible. There is
a deep pit, some say a bottomless pit, beneath the lower pits of the
palace; horrible noises--groans and moans arise perpetually from it and
into this pit those that are to die The Death are cast, but in such a
way that the fall will not kill them. They must reach the bottom alive
to endure all the horrors of The Death that await them there. That the
torture is almost interminable is evidenced by the fact that the moans
and groans of the victims never cease, no matter how long a period may
have elapsed between executions."
"And you have escaped it," exclaimed Tavia. "My prayers have been
answered. For days and nights have I been praying to my ancestors that
you might be spared. Now if you can but escape this hateful place. Have
you a plan?"
"We have a plan that with the help of Phao here may prove successful.
Nur An, of whom I told you, is hiding in a closet in one of the
apartments of the little prince. We shall return to that apartment at
the first opportunity and there Phao will hide all three of us until
some opportunity for escape presents itself."
"And we should lose no more time in returning," said Phao. "Come, let
us go at once."
As we turned toward the panel through which we had entered I saw that
it was ajar, though I was confident that Phao had closed it after us
when we entered and simultaneously I could have sworn that I saw an eye
glued to the narrow crack, as though someone watched us from the dark
interior of the secret corridor.
In a single bound I was across the room and had drawn the panel aside.
My sword was ready in my hand, but there was no one in the corridor
beyond.
VII
THE DEATH
With Phao in the lead and Tavia between us, we traversed the dark
corridor back toward the apartment of Yo Seno. When we reached the
panel marking the end of our journey, Phao halted and together we
listened intently for any sound that might evidence the presence of an
occupant in the room beyond. All was silent as the tomb.
"I believe," said Phao, "that it will be safer if you and Tavia remain
here until night. I shall return to my apartment and go about my duties
in the usual manner and after the palace has quieted down, these levels
will be almost deserted; then I can come and get you with far less
danger of detection than were I to take you to the apartment now."
We agreed that her plan was a good one, and bidding us a temporary
farewell, she opened the panel sufficiently to permit her to survey the
apartment beyond. It was quite empty. She stepped from the corridor,
closing the panel behind her, and once again Tavia and I were plunged
into darkness.