THE LAND OF TWENTY MOONS
Not a quarter of a mile from them a man was running along the snow road
toward them--a tall man, and well formed. He ran, or trotted slowly,
with head bent, and many a sidewise glance along the borders of the
trail.
"Now, I think that here is the owner of the knife come to seek it,"
muttered Polaris; and seeing that the stranger bore a spear, he reached
his own long weapon from the sledge, and leaned on it as he watched the
approach of the runner, the same quiet smile on his face with which he
greeted all wonders.
Not until he was within a hundred yards of the sledge did the man see
them. He came on fearlessly.
He was a swarthy fellow, black of beard, with a strong, high-featured
visage, straight nose, and prominent cheek-bones. His hair hung from
beneath a pointed cap of coarse, gray cloth, and was cropped at his
collar. A tunic of brown material reached to his knees, and was clasped
in front with several buckles. His feet were shod with high, furred
moccasin-boots, which reached nearly to his knees, and which were bound
with cross-strings. Above them were tight-fitting breeches of the same
material as the tunic.
In a broad leather belt swung a small ax, a pair of large fur gloves,
and an empty sheath. Ax-blade and buckles and the tip of his long,
straight spear were all of the same iridescent metal as the dagger
which Polaris had found in the snow. He was about forty years old.
When within a short spear-throw, he stood gazing at them, his eyes
roving from man to girl, and from dogs to sledge, taking note of all.
Then he spoke, in a deep and not unpleasant voice. Rose Emer understood
a question in his inflection, but the language he spoke was unknown to
her.
Polaris laughed and said quickly: "As it is written on the blade of the
knife, so does he speak, Lady. It is Greek."
She looked from him to the stranger, wide-eyed. "What does he say?"
"He says, 'Whence come you?' and now I will answer him as best I can
manage his tongue."
He turned to the strange man and lifted his voice. "We come from the
north," he said.
"And who may you be," he queried the man, "who come down from the white
north, through the lands where no man may travel, you who are like a
child of the great sun, and who drive strange animals, the like of
which were never seen?" and he pointed to the crouching dogs. "And who
is she, the woman, who hath the aspect of a princess, and who rideth
with thee across the snows?"
"Polaris am I named--Polaris of the Snows and she who is with me is
Rose Emer, of America, and I am her servant. Now, who art thou, and how
called?"
The man heard him with close attention. "I should judge thee little
likely to be servant to any, thou Polaris of the Snows," he answered
with a slow smile. "Part of thy words I comprehend not, but I name
myself Kard the Smith, of the city of Sardanes."
"If thou are Kard the Smith, I have that which is thine," said Polaris,
and he stepped forward and held out the dagger. "It bears thy name."
Kard took the weapon from him with a gesture of pleasure. "Not my name,
O stranger of the snows," he said, "but that of my grandsire, Kard the
Smith, three times removed, who did forge it. For that reason do I
value it so highly that I came alone on the Hunters' Road willing to
travel many weary miles and risk much to regain it."
"Is this that thou speakest thine only tongue, Kard the Smith?" pursued
Polaris.
Kard nodded, and his eyes opened wide. "Yes, surely. And thou, who
speakest it also, yet strangely, hast thou another?"
"Yes," said Polaris, "and thy language, I have been taught, is dead in
the great world these many centuries. Who are thy people, and where is
the city of Sardanes?"
"The great world!" repeated Kard. "The great world to the north, across
the snows! Aye, thy coming thence proves the tales of the priests and
historians of Sardanes, which, in truth, many of us had come to doubt.
To us, Sardanes and the wastes are all of the world.
"The city lieth yonder," and he pointed over his shoulder toward the
smoking mountains. "Know thou, Polaris of the snows, that thou and thy
princess are the first of all strangers to come to Sardanes; and now do
I, Kard the Smith, bid thee a fair welcome."
He bowed low to Rose Emer and to Polaris, sweeping the snow with his
rough cap.
* * * * *
Translating the outcome of his conversation with the stranger to Rose
Emer, Polaris started the team along the trail, and with Kard trotting
alongside the sledge, they set out for the mysterious city which he
said lay beyond the mountains.
As they went, Polaris gathered from Kard that the people of Sardanes
had lived in their land a very great while, indeed; that their
population numbered some two thousand souls, and that they were ruled
by a hereditary king or prince.
"For the rest, thou shalt learn it of the priests, who are more learned
than I," said Kard; "and thine own tale of marvels, beside which ours
is but a little thing, though I starve from desire to hear it, thou
shalt reserve for the ears of the Prince Helicon. It were meet that he
hear it first of all in Sardanes."
In an atmosphere that grew momentarily more temperate, they drew near
to the green bulk of the mountains.
"What maketh the warmth of this land?" called Polaris to Kard.
The Smith raised his hand and pointed to the summits above them, where
the great smoke clouds hung heavily in the quiet air.
"Within the bowels of the hills are the undying fires which have burned
from the first," he said. "They have saved the land from the wastes.
No matter how the storms rage on the snow plains, it is ever warm in
Sardanes. The city lieth in a valley, ringed round by a score of fire
mountains, set there by the gods when the world began. And when the
season of the great darkness falleth, the flare of the eternal flames
lighteth the valley. With the light of twenty moons is Sardanes ever
lighted. Wait and thou shalt see."
Presently they came to the foot of the range. For a short distance
above them lay snow in patches on the slopes, and beyond that extended
a wide belt of grasses and trees. Still higher, all vegetation ceased,
and the earth was bare and brown, and the rocks were naked.
Above all jutted the fire blackened crags of the summits, wild and
bleak. Just ahead of them yawned a pass, which some vast upheaval had
torn in the base of the range in the long ago.
"Now must the lady walk with us," said Kard, "for the way is rough, and
the lack of snow will make it difficult for the animals to drag on the
sledge."
He spoke truly. So rough was the way in places that Polaris must
add his own strength to the pull of the dogs. Kard the Smith would
willingly have aided also, but the dogs would not permit him to lay
hand on the traces, nor could Polaris prevail on them to be friendly
with the man.
Up and up they climbed the many turns of the pass, its seamed walls of
rock beetling above them at both sides. So warm was it that Polaris,
sweating and pulling with the pack, took off his cloak and inner coat
of bearskin, and struggled on in his under-garment of seal fur.
They came to the peak of the pass, and again it wound irregularly
downward for a space. Its sides were less precipitous. Long grasses and
shrubbery grew in the niches of the rocks, and the light of the sun
penetrated nearly to the path.
"Ah, see, Polaris," cried Rose Emer, "there, in the rocks, my namesake
is nodding to me. A rose, and in this land!"
In a cleft in the rock wall clung a brier, and on it bloomed a single
magnificent red blossom. After the weeks of hardship and grief and
journeying with death, the sight of the flower brought tears to the
eyes of the girl.
While Kard stood and smiled, Polaris stopped the team. He clambered up
the rocks, clinging with his hands, and brought it down, its delicate
perfume thrilling his senses with a something soft and sweet that he
could not put into thought. Rose Emer took it from him and set it in
her breast.
That was a picture Polaris never forgot--the rocky walls of the pass,
the sledge and the wild dogs, the strange figure of the Sardanian, the
girl and the red rose.
She had removed her heavy coat and cap, and now walked on ahead of
them, her long blue sweater clinging to her lissom form, the sunshine
glinting in the coiled masses of her chestnut hair. They rounded
another turn, and Rose Emer gave a little gasp and stopped, and stood
transfixed.
"Oh, here is, indeed, a garden of the gods!" she cried.
There the rock ledges ended, and they stood at the lip of a long green
slope of sward, spangled with flowers. A valley lay before them, of
which they were at the lower end. Ringed by the smoking mountains, it
stretched away, some ten miles in length. From the lower hill slopes at
either side it was perhaps a short mile and a half across. Adown its
length, nearly in the middle, ran the silvery ribbon of a little river,
which bore away to the right at the lower end of the valley, and was
lost to sight in the base of the hills.
* * * * *
At either side of the river the land lay in rolling knolls and lush
meadows, with here and there a tangle of giant trees, and here and
there geometrical squares of tilled land--the whole spread out, from
where the travelers stood, in an immense patchwork pattern, riotous
with the colors of nature, and dotted with the white dwellings of men,
built of stone.
On the higher slopes of the mountains at each side thick forests of
mighty trees grew. Above the line of vegetation, the bare earth gave
forth vapor from the inner heat, and farther up the naked rocks jutted
to the peaks, half hidden in their perpetual mists and smoke.
There were twenty-one mountains, all of the same general appearance,
with one exception. One great hill alone, which towered over to the
left of them, was wooded thickly to its summit.
Everywhere in the valley was the sound of life. Birds flashed back and
forth among the foliage; goats leaped among the rocks; small ponies
grazed in the meadows; men tilled the fields. From the distance up the
valley came the hum and splashing of a small waterfall. A couple of
miles away, at the right of the river, was a large square of buildings
that gleamed white in the sunlight, where many people were moving
about.
"Behold, Sardanes!" said Kard the Smith, advancing to the edge of the
rock.
Rose Emer caught the word Sardanes and echoed it.
"Sardanes," she breathed, and turned to Polaris with an awed look in
her eyes. "It is as if a page of the ages had been turned back for us,
isn't it?" she asked.
From the wondrous scene he glanced to the face of the girl and smiled
quietly, and she remembered that here was one who gazed for the first
time on the reality of the world of men of any age.
Kard raised his voice in a long, shrill call. His voice was lost in the
angry baying of the dog pack as a small goat leaped from covert close
to them and clattered away up the ledges.
At the combined clamor, several men raised their faces wonderingly from
their work in a field near by. For a moment they gazed in amazement at
the travelers, and then ran toward them, talking excitedly as they went.
All were clad lightly in sleeveless tunics of cloth that reached the
knees. They wore no head coverings, and their faces and bare arms
were tanned from exposure to the sun. Their feet were covered with
leather sandals, buckled at the ankle. Their limbs were bare from the
sandals to the short, loose-legged trousers, which they wore beneath
their tunic skirts. The texture of their garments was dyed in several
different hues.
Nearly all wore close-cropped beards like that of Kard, and their
hair was trimmed at the neck. Armlets and rings and the buckles on
their garments, all of the strange, iridescent metal, glittered in the
sunlight as they ran.
For a moment there was a babel of astonished queries leveled at Kard
the Smith as the men pulled up and drank in the sight of the strangers
and their yet stranger beasts, now roused to a frenzy which required
all of the authority of Polaris to hold in bounds. "Who?" and "What?"
and "Where?" came in breathless succession from the mouths of the
Sardanians.
"Now, be quiet, all of you, that I may tell you," commanded Kard with a
disgusted wave of his hand. They were spoiling his peroration for him.
"These," and he waved his hand again, "be Polaris of the Snows, and
Rose Emer of America, come to visit Sardanes. The man with the sunlight
hair and eyes of the sky hath lived in the outer snows all his life,
he saith. The woman," and Kard bowed low, "is a great princess from the
world far to the north, beyond all the snows, the world whereof the
priests have sung."
Truly, the imagination of Kard was equal to the effect he wished to
produce on his fellows. Their tongues stilled by their wonder, they
gazed at the man and the woman. Then, as by common impulse, they bowed
low, with sweeping gestures of their right hands. A fresh chorus of
questions would have broken out, but Kard quickly forstalled it.
"The rest of my tale, also the wonders which the strangers may unfold,
wait the ear of the Prince Helicon," he said curtly. "Now, haste ye and
bring horses to transport the strangers' goods, for their beasts are
aweary, and we will proceed to the Judgement House."
Two of the younger men hurried to one of the nearer dwellings and
returned shortly with two span of the small horses which grazed in the
meadows. They were in harness, and it was not difficult to attach them
to the sledge in place of the dogs, which Polaris took out of harness
and held in leash. Fearing that Sardanian legs would suffer if he did
not, he took the precaution to bind the muzzle of each dog with thongs.
A lad mounted the sledge and cracked a long whip, and the stout ponies
bent to the work of hauling the sledge.
With Kard leading the way, Polaris and Rose Emer set off in the
direction of the square of white buildings up the valley. Their dogs
huddled closely around them, a formidable body-guard, and with them
marched an escort of Sardanians, momentarily augmented by every new man
who set eyes on them.
* * * * *
Everything that he saw was a marvel to Polaris. And for Rose Emer, who
had wandered up and down the world considerably, the ancient valley was
spread with wonders. Never had she seen, outside of California, trees
of such giant girth and height as some of those which grew at the base
of the hills; and they were of no kin to the Californian Sequoia. Birds
that she could not name flew among their branches.
Set in the midst of their orderly little farms were houses of a sort
not seen in the world to-day. They were constructed for the most part
of colored stone, faced with white, and with high-pillared porticoes.
Each brought a memory of a pictured temple of antiquity.
They crossed the river on a small bridge of green stone. As they
drew nearer to the square of buildings they could see that it was
evidently a public gathering place. Each of its four fronts was a lofty
peristyle, inclosing a square of considerable size. Through its arches
they caught sight of a raised stage, facing many seats of stone.
News of their coming had preceded them. From all directions people were
flocking into the public square and occupying the stone seats.
"All who live in the valley are gathering to bid us welcome, lady,"
said Polaris, and added an echo to the thoughts of the girl, "May our
leave-taking be as peaceful as our welcome!"
When they had arrived at the square they found that it stood in the
center of a pleasant park, with clumps of trees, stone-curbed pools,
and playing fountains. Scattered about on massive pedestals were groups
of statuary of no mean artistry, some in white marble and others of
colored stones. For the most part fanciful subjects were represented,
but some of the groups evidently were of a historical significance.
One, in particular, of large size, showed a company of men landing on
a shore from the decks of a ship. The vessel bore a marked resemblance
to an ancient galley, such as Rose Emer often had seen pictured. There
were the high decks and the banks of oars.
All these sculptured men wore armor and trappings of patterns as
ancient as the ship, heightening the likeness of this place of
Sardanian art to an antique Greek statuary. Around the central building
lay a paved plaza.
Conducted by their escort, which had grown to nearly a hundred men,
Rose Emer and Polaris and their gray comrades entered the building
through one of the high arches. The entrance led to one side of the
raised stage.
While the members of their Sardanian escort scattered to the seats
below, Kard the Smith ushered the man and the girl to a flight of stone
steps by which they gained the dais.
On the platform was another raised piece of marble work, of glistening
white, a flight of steps leading up to a carved double throne, set
between two pillars. Across the tops of the pillars was a scrolled
plinth, inscribed with Greek lettering as follows:
ΕΛΙΚΩΝΚΡΕΩΝΤΗΣΣΑΡΔΑΝΗΣΟϘΘ
"'Helicon, the ninety-ninth prince of Sardanes,'" Polaris translated
for Rose's benefit. "In the original, '_Helikon kreon tes Sardanes ho
kop-pa-theta_.'"
On the space below the throne were a number of other stone seats.
Throne and platform were empty, with one exception. A little apart from
the other seats was one of black stone, and on it was seated a young
man. His garb was similar to that of the other Sardanians, but was of
exceedingly fine texture, and all of black, unrelieved by any ornament
or touch of color.
When the strangers came upon the platform he turned toward them a
long-favored, highly intellectual countenance. His face was shaven
smoothly, and his long black hair was held back from his temples by a
band of black cloth. He reclined rather than sat in his stone chair,
with an elbow on its arm and his chin on his hand.
As Polaris and Rose Emer became visible to the people below a subdued
hum of excitement arose; but the young man on the black stone seat
remained impassive, and regarded them with a steady, searching gaze,
with no outward evidence of surprise.
"A greeting to thee, Kalin, priest of Sardanes!" called Kard, throwing
out his hand in salutation. The young man replied with a careless
movement of the hand that lay in his lap, without disturbing his
posture of repose.
Down in the great hall hundreds of Sardanian eyes were centered on the
strangers. Momentarily the seats were filling with new arrivals. Nearly
half of the gathering were women, and many of them were handsome.
They were costumed in kirtles, belted in below the bosom and flowing
loosely to below the knee. They wore their hair in plaits, coiled about
the tops of their heads. Ornaments of glittering metal bedecked their
garments and hair. Their feet were clad in sandals of soft leather,
laced above the ankles, and in half stockings of cloth, gartered and
bowed below the knees. Rose Emer was quick to note that some of them
were striking beauties.
Without exception, they were brunettes.
Kard conducted Polaris and the girl to seats at one side and a short
distance from the central throne.
"We bide the coming of the Prince Helicon," he explained, "who cometh
shortly."
For a few moments they sat in silence. Then voices were heard from
an entrance at the far side of the stage, and with one accord the
Sardanians in the hall rose from their seats.
"The prince cometh!" murmured Kard.
Polaris and Rose Emer arose also.