KYPHALLOS AND KALAMITA
Yet once outside the mountain villa, Croft knew where he wanted to
go. It was back to Himyra--back to the palace of Lakkon itself--to be
alone with his thoughts. To that point, therefore, he once more willed
himself.
The city swam beneath him. The yellow Na sparkled and glinted in the
flickering gleams of the fire basins lighted along the embankments
as they leaped and flared. Other fires flashed out in various of
the public squares. And here the population met for their hours of
relaxation. Here groups of wandering musicians played on reed and harp
and horn as the gaily decked crowds filed by. Here mountebanks plied
their stock of tricks, and acrobats proved their supple agility and
strength. Over it all the three moons of Palos poured a silvery light
as Croft flitted past.
Then he was at the palace of Lakkon, finding still open, a window of
Naia's own room, and so at length the place he sought. The moonlight
filtered in. It fell in a broad bank, which struck across the pure
white figure of Azil with its outstretched wings.
Through a long moment Croft stood gazing at the statue, bathed in the
light of the moons. Then, without removing his eyes, he found the couch
and sat down upon it, and thought, still staring at Azil--the material
symbol of that spirit to whom the girl, the aura of whose presence
pervaded this room, had prayed.
And, after a time, out of all his agony of spirit, his tumult of
thought, his rebellion at what was proposed for the girl's fate, the
sick knowledge of his own futility to aid her, there came to him a
prompting impulse as to his future course. To what end he did not know.
In his present state he could do nothing and knew it--had raged at the
knowledge ever since he had seen Naia of Aphur on her way to this room,
where he now sat.
Yet despite the acknowledged fact of impotency, something seemed to
urge him to go on, to learn all he might of Palos and its people, of
Tamarizia and its history, its manners and customs, its government and
laws, and more particularly the true state of things in Cathur and the
truth concerning Kyphallos, son of Cathur's king.
To Cathur then would he go, Croft decided, while he sat there staring
at Azil, the Angel of Life. And Cathur, he judged, lay toward the north
since Jadgor had spoken of the state of Nodhur as lying beyond Aphur on
the Na. Hence he willed his spirit in projection without further delay.
Thereafter followed a week in which Jason Croft, disembodied spirit,
learned much concerning the nation and the country to which he had
dared venture across millions of miles of space.
He found Cathur, a mountainous state lying to the north of a wide
mountain walled strait. He found Scira, its capital city, not unlike
Himyra save that it was built of an odd blue stone quarried from the
mountains which ribbed the state in all directions. There was white
stone, too, used in the governmental palace, and also in a splendid
collection of buildings lying on a small plateau above the city proper.
This was the National University of Tamarizia, as Jason quickly
learned, once he was inside its walls. Endowed as he was with the
peculiar ability of reading the words of the people by reason of his
sublimated state, he found this school a wonderful means of quickly
gaining all knowledge of the nation which he desired to know.
He literally went to school, an unknown scholar who listened to the
recitation of classes and the lectures of grave professorial men clad
in long robes of spotless white. Geography held his interest mainly at
first. He learned that Tamarizia lay upon a continent holding itself
completely surrounded save for the narrow strait, a vast central sea,
studded here and there with islands, the major of which, Hiranur, some
fifty miles long by twenty wide, was the seat of the imperial throne
at the city of Zitra, of which Jadgor had made mention before. The
Tamarizian states bordered this central ocean--or had done so before
the Zollarian war had wrested Mazhur, on the extreme north shore, from
the original group of states.
East of Mazhur lay Bithur. South of that was Milidhur, completing the
eastern side of the Central Sea. Aphur joined Milidhur on the west--its
name literally meaning "the state to the west," and south of Milidhur
and Aphur was Nodhur, gaining outlet for its commerce by means of the
river Na.
Cathur lay west of Mazhur, north of the strait, to the outer
ocean, completing the circle. Its name might be translated as the
battle-ground, which, in fact, it was, Zollaria having more than once
sought to conquer it and lost because of the nature of its mountainous
terrain. Having learned so much, he could readily see wherein the
possession of this state would give Zollaria the freedom of the seas,
which she desired, and a joint control of the entire Central Sea.
From geography he turned to sociology and science. He found out quickly
that the Tamarizians used a metric system, numbering their population
by tens and dividing the national census on the basis of thousands
and tens of thousands, each thousand unit having a captain and each
ten thousand a local governor. Their day was twenty-seven hours long,
their year longer than that of earth, but divided into twelve periods
or months, each in their belief ruled over by an angel designated by a
symbolic sign.
They believed in the immortality of the soul, as he had learned the
first day. They believed in the resurrection of the dead. They used
a system of social castes, to which the naturalized descendants of
the Mazzerian nations belonged, being purely a caste of the lowest or
serving type. The trades of fathers descended to sons, instruction in
crafts and arts being largely by word of mouth alone. They had a bard
or minstrel caste, a caste of dancers wholly female in its circle.
A Palosian year was called a cycle, a day a sun, a month a Zitran--or
period set by Zitu, the national God. There was a priesthood and a
vestal order of women. Also, there was an order of knighthood, to which
belonged men of noble blood or those raised to it by kingly decree
for some signal accomplishment in the arts or sciences or some other
service to the state.
* * * * *
The royal house of each state was hereditary, but governed jointly
with a state assembly elected by the vote of each ten thousand unit of
population, each unit selecting a state delegate to the assembly. The
imperial throne was filled by the choice of the states, as he had once
before heard Jadgor, of Aphur, say.
Agriculture was highly held and greatly specialized. Metal working
was a very advanced science, as he had already guessed. Copper was
abundant, and the Tamarizians held the secret of tempering the metal,
now unknown on earth. Of it they made their weapons and most of their
public structural metal, including their carriages and chariots and
all conveyances of a finer sort. Gold was plentiful, too. But silver
and lead were rare and held in high esteem. Steam and electricity were
unknown in their application, as Croft had already seen.
They had reached a high plane in art, sculpture and weaving. He
discovered that the golden cloth was actually gold spun into threads
and mixed with a vegetable fiber to form warp and wool. There was also
a medical caste, somewhat crude, but seemingly efficient, so far as he
could learn, and attached to it a female or nursing caste, consisting
wholly again of women, who entered it from choice. In fact, women, as
he came to see, held a prominent place in the nation. They held the
right of suffrage. Their citizenship was coequal with their men. They
sat in the class-rooms of the university, as he actually saw, and even
took part in public ceremonials and competed in the public games.
All in all, before his week at Scira was past, he had come to
understand that Tamarizia was a very democratic nation despite its
form of royal rulership, and that the emperor of Zitra was little more
than a relic of old-time government, with little more power than a
republican president.
And that, like most republics, the nation had grown weak in the pursuit
of the profession arms, he had to admit that Jadgor was right. Each
city had a sort of civic guard--each unit of ten thousand possessed a
military police. There was an imperial guard at Zitra of possibly five
hundred men. Civic guards, imperial guards and police, the national
maximum force none too well armed or trained would not be judged as
aggregating over fifty thousand effective men.
To the north of Tamarizia lay Zollaria, her western shore line that
of the great or outer ocean. Like Tamarizia, Zollaria was a nation of
whites, differing, however, in their national regime and their physical
appearance to no small degree. As Jadgor had said to Lakkon, theirs was
a rule of absolutism, first and last, with the governing class distinct
from the common people in each detail of their life.
Larger than Tamarizia, Zollaria looked with envy on the position of the
country to the south. Fifty years before she had sought to change it
and failed. Yet Jadgor was assured she had not laid aside her ambition,
and Croft was inclined to agree.
The Zollarians themselves were a light-haired race, to a great extent,
heavily built, strong, virile, sturdy, many of them blue-eyed, except
in the southern part of the nation, where they approached more nearly
to the Tamarizian type.
East of Tamarizia and south of Zollaria, in the hinterland of the
continent on which the three nations lived, was the half-savage tribe
of Mazzer, the blue men, inhabiting a region consisting mainly of
semitropic forests and plains, living largely by hunting and the
exporting of skins and dried meats and natural fruits, together with
a variety of cheese. In these articles they maintained commerce with
Zollaria and Tamarizia, along their adjoining borders, and had done so
for years. Commerce was entirely by water in such boats as Croft had
seen on the Na, and by means of the sarpelca caravans across stretches
of desert to regions not approachable by the streams.
That week in school proved a rather peculiar experience to Croft. He
came to feel actually at home in Scira. Without being seen or known he
came to know the youths of the various classes.
And to one in particular he gave special note. He was a wonderful
man in so far as physique was concerned. He stood a good six feet in
height and was built in perfect proportion. In the games and sports he
always excelled because of his splendid strength. And there he ceased.
Mentally he was not the equal of those with whom he strove.
Nature seemed to have left her task uncompleted so far as Jasor was
concerned. That was his name--Jasor, from Nodhur, the state to the
south of Aphur as Croft learned by degrees. He was a lovable young
man, mild-mannered, friendly and kind. But he was rated in his studies
with youths two years his juniors and appeared unable to do more than
maintain his standing with them. Watching him, Croft felt both pity
and interest develop through the course of the seven days wherein he
himself acquired so great an understanding of Palosian life.
It seemed a pity to Croft that one so splendidly endowed with physical
perfection should be so mentally weak. He rather followed young Jasor
about and discovered to his pleasure that although seemingly well
provided with means the youth was naturally of a cleanly life. More
than that, through association with him, he came to know that Jasor
felt his position acutely, and was brooding over his own mental
capacity to an unwise degree.
* * * * *
Throughout his stay in Cathur, however, Croft did not lose sight of his
main object in coming to the northern state. He had come to find and
judge Kyphallos for himself, and he attended to that, not the first
night, as he had intended, but the next night after that. There was a
reason for the delay. Kyphallos was not in Scira when Croft came to the
capital of Cathur. Jason managed to see Scythys the king. He found him
in a splendid room clad in a loose robe of scarlet, a senile husk of
a once massive man, with a look of vague trouble in his half-blinded
cataract-filmed eyes. But of Kyphallos the son there was no sign.
Only by chance remarks was Croft able to learn the whereabouts of the
prince. By such means he finally learned of a second palace maintained
on an island in the Central Sea, off the coast of Cathur, not far from
the border of the former Tamarizian state of Mazhur. The island was
known as Anthra, was a part of the state of Cathur, and a favorite
retreat with the crown prince.
To Anthra on the second night Croft went. And on Anthra he plunged
into such a scene as he had not met in Tamarizia as yet. Heretofore
he had been struck with the mild beauty of Palosian life, with a sort
of personal dignity which seemed to pervade the nation, despite the
magnificence of their public structures and the undoubted wealth of the
state.
Not but what, being human, there was a percentage of criminality in
the social life. Such things, as among other races, were known and
recognized, but he had found it here regulated to a surprising extent.
On Anthra, he came into an atmosphere the antithesis of this, combined
with a degree of voluptuous luxury, cradled in a setting of utter
magnificence.
He came upon a saturnalia of pleasure. He could liken it to nothing
else. A feast was in progress in the palace Kyphallos had made the
scene of his private debauches for years.
Above an artificial harbor as calm as glass, the palace rose an
imposing pile. At the quays of the harbor their colored sails picked
out by flaming fire-urns, their gilded hulls set asparkle in the
flicker of the light-giving flames, lay a number of elaborate pleasure
craft more like gold and copper galleys than anything else.
Steps led up from the stone quays to the palace proper, giving on a
wide expanse of crystal flagging, under a heavy portico supported by
pillars of lemon-yellow stone. And beyond this through wide airy arches
was the main court, in the center of which was a pool of limpid water,
some fifty feet long, by as many wide.
Like the other Palosian palaces this central court was the main
gathering place of the inmates and guests. On Anthra the structure
was flagged in a pale-green stone. The pillars supporting the balcony
about it were lemon-yellow, and the stairways at either end of a clear
translucent blue. Innumerable oil-lamps lighted it this night, and
about one corner of the central pool were arranged the tables for the
feast.
Here Croft found the man he sought, reclining on a padded divan, his
too full red lips slightly parted in a bibulous smile, his long hair
curled and anointed and perfumed till he reeked of aromatic scents;
his well-formed hands loaded with rings, his body clad in a crimson
garment, embroidered in gold.
Beside him, lying outstretched like some splendid creature of the
jungle as it came to Croft, was a woman; tawny as a lioness in the tint
of her hair and heavy-lidded eyes, lithe as a lioness, too, in every
sensuous line of her body, well-nigh unclothed.
Her sandalless feet were stained on the soles with crimson. Anklets
gripped her lower limbs, and tinkled tiny golden bells as she moved.
Bracelets banded her graceful naked arms. Gem-incrusted cups, fastened
by jeweled bands covered in part her breasts. A bit of gold gauze,
studded with bright red stones, accentuated rather than veiled the rest
of her perfect figure from waist to the bend of her knees. She lay
there close to Kyphallos and after a bit she lifted a golden goblet and
pressed it to his lips and laughed.
Beyond her was a man, Croft marked at a glance. He was heavy, gross;
yet gave an impression of mighty strength in the size of his hairy
arms, the pillars of his mighty limbs, the breadth of his shoulder and
chest. And he, too, was tawny haired.
And on the other side of Kyphallos was a figure to give Croft pause.
A blue warrior sat there; but surely no member of the serving class,
Jason thought. This man was never made to serve. His were the features
of one who commands, strong, firm-lipped, high-cheeked, with almost
a somnolent sneer in the expression of his mouth and the glint of his
eyes as he turned them on Kyphallos and the woman by his side. This was
some Mazzerian chief--here in the palace of Cathur's prince. Who then
were the tawny woman and man, Croft asked himself, and found he was
soon to know.
For as the woman laughed Kyphallos spoke. "Your laughter is music
better than any I can offer, my Kalamita. Since first I heard it in
Niera, the time I met you there with your brother, Bandhor, I have
longed to hear it more. Your graciousness in coming to this farewell
feast, ere I sail for Aphur, burdens me with debt. Yet were I loath to
have sailed without a final sight of you--a parting word. And I have
provided such entertainment as I might."
"As you do always, Prince of Aphur," his companion responded. "Is it
not true, Bandhor, my brother, that we are honored to be present when
Cathur desires?"
"Aye. Wine, food, music, and women. What more can a man desire?"
the massive individual at whom she smiled over her rounded shoulder
replied. "When Cathur returns, he must come to our house at Niera as he
has done before. There are others of Zollaria I desire him to meet, as
well as other men of Mazzer, besides the noble Bazd, whom we made bold
to bring with us tonight."
* * * * *
As he finished the blue man smiled, and Kyphallos picking up his own
goblet of wine passed it to the Mazzerian with a languid grace. "Thy
friends are my friends, O Bandhor of Zollaria!" he exclaimed, and
bending close to the face of the girl said: "Shall I come when I return
from Aphur?"
And as he gazed upon her the heavy lids slowly contracted until her
eyes narrowed to slits. Then they shot up, fully open, and she flashed
him a smile. "Aye, my Kyphallos, unless you desire me to suffer, come
when you return."
Kyphallos took back the cup from which Bazd, the Mazzerian, had drunk
and drained it at a gulp. "I shall come," he shouted and clapped his
hands. "Let the entertainment begin!"
After that Croft could only watch and marvel at what he beheld. A sound
of harps burst forth. Golden and scarlet curtains drew apart at one
end of the immense court. He caught a glimpse of moving figures behind
them, and then--fifty dancing girls broke forth.
Swaying, posturing, gesturing they moved down the hall toward the
tables. At first they were clothed. But as they advanced they dropped
veil after veil from their posturing bodies, until they gleamed white
and pink swinging figures, caught in the eddies of the dance. Closer
and closer they came. They reached the tables themselves. They sprang
upon them. They danced among the remnants of the feast. The hands
of the guests--other companions of Cathur's prince, reached toward
them--sought to capture them and draw them down upon the divans.
And then the music ceased. Crying aloud the dancers leaped from the
table into the pool. Like nymphs they swam across it and disappeared
behind a curtain of flowers and shrubs at the farther end. Yet in a
moment they were back, dragging what looked like a monster shell in
which sat the figure of an aged man, carrying yet another shell in his
hand, and wearing a long green robe.
This they launched in the pool, and seizing ropes fastened to it they
swam back toward the tables towing it along. At the corner of the pool
they clustered on each side, while the aged passenger rose and stepped
to land.
Kyphallos rose, too. "Hail Kronhor--Ruler of the Seas!" he exclaimed.
"I am about to entrust myself to your domain for a journey to the
south. What fare may I expect?"
"Good, O Prince of Cathur," the aged one returned. "I shall instruct
all handmaids to wait upon you and steer your ship in safety, even as
they have brought me into your presence tonight."
Kyphallos filled a goblet with wine and held it out.
He who played Kronhor took it.
"Drink!" the Cathurian cried. "Cathur does honor to Kronhor--thus."
Kalamita sprang to her feet. She filled other goblets, swiftly
motioning the others about the tables to do the same. "Drink!" her
voice rang out. "Drink to Kronhor. Drink to Kyphallos and the safety of
his voyage."
The toast was drunk. Kronhor made his adieus and was towed back to the
other side of the pool. Kalamita was leaning with both hands locked
over Kyphallos's shoulder. "Tell me," she whispered. "Why does Jadgor
of Aphur ask your presence, my friend?"
"I know not," said the Cathurian prince. "Some business of state, no
doubt, to which I must attend for my father, who grows feeble with age
as you know."
The dancing girls were hauling the shell from the pool. They made what
looked like a straining group in pink bisque.
"It was a pretty play," Kalamita murmured. "Did you design it,
Kyphallos? I know from the past you are clever."
The man turned and looked once more into her eyes. "I designed it--I
planned it to amuse--you."
Croft turned away. He had seen enough. This was the man to whom it was
planned to give the woman he--Jason Croft--loved; that sweet, pure
Naia of Aphur who had knelt two nights ago in appeal before Azil the
Angel of Life. This scented sensualist, caught fast in the charms of a
Zollarian woman, of a type Croft could not mistake. Jadgor had hinted
at something like this in his talk with Lakkon two days before. And
tonight--on the eve of his departure of Aphur, Kyphallos of Cathur sat
as the host of the enemies of his land. Surely Jadgor had reason for
the fears he had expressed. Surely here was food for serious thought.