KO-TAH THREATENS THE PRINCESS
The palace of the Emperor stands, a magnificent pile, upon the loftiest
terrace of Laythe, extending completely around the enormous crater.
There are but three avenues leading to it from the terraces below—three
magnificent stairways, each of which may be closed by enormous gates of
stone, apparently wrought from huge slabs and intricately chiselled into
marvelous designs, so that at a distance they present the appearance of
magnificent lacework. Each gate is guarded by a company of fifty
warriors, their tunics bearing the imperial design in a large circle
over the left breast.
The ceremony of our entrance to the imperial terrace was most gorgeous
and impressive. Huge drums and trumpets blared forth a challenge as we
reached the foot of the stairway which we were to ascend to the palace.
High dignitaries in gorgeous trappings came down the steps to meet us,
as if to formally examine the credentials of Ko-tah and give official
sanction to his entrance. We were then conducted through the gateway
across a broad terrace beautifully landscaped and ornamented by statuary
that was most evidently the work of finished artists. These works of art
comprised both life size and heroic figures of individuals and groups,
and represented for the most part historic or legendary figures and
events of the remote past, though there were also likenesses of all the
rulers of Laythe, up to and including Sagroth the present Jemadar.
Upon entering the palace we were led to a banquet hall, where we were
served with food, evidently purely in accordance with ancient court
ceremonial, since there was little to eat and the guests barely tasted
of that which was presented to them. This ceremony consumed but a few
minutes of Earth time, following which we were conducted through
spacious hallways to the throne room of the Jemadar, an apartment of
great beauty and considerable size. Its decorations and lines were
simple, almost to severity, yet suggesting regal dignity and
magnificence. Upon a dais at the far end of the room were three thrones,
that in the center being occupied by a man whom I knew at once to be
Sagroth, while upon either side sat a woman.
Ko-tah advanced and made his obeisance before his ruler, and after the
exchange of a few words between them Ko-tah returned and conducted me to
the foot of Sagroth’s throne.
I had been instructed that it was in accordance with court etiquette
that I keep my eyes upon the ground until I had been presented and
Sagroth had spoken to me, and that then I should be introduced to the
Jemadav, or Empress, when I might raise my eyes to her, also, and
afterward to the occupant of the third throne when I should be formally
presented to her.
Sagroth spoke most graciously to me, and as I raised my eyes I saw
before me a man of great size and evident strength of character. He was
by far the most regal appearing individual my eyes had ever rested upon,
while his low, well modulated, yet powerful voice accentuated the
majesty of his mien. It was he who presented me to his Jemadav, whom I
discovered to be a creature fully as regal in appearance as her imperial
mate, and although doubtless well past middle age, still possessing
remarkable beauty, in which was to be plainly noted Nah-ee-lah’s
resemblance to her mother.
Again I lowered my eyes as Sagroth presented me to the occupant of the
third throne.
“Ju-lan the Javadar,” he repeated the formal words of the presentation,
“raise your eyes to the daughter of Laythe, Nah-ee-lah the Nonovar.”
As my eyes, filled doubtless with surprise and incredulity, shot to the
face of Nah-ee-lah, I was almost upon the verge of an exclamation of the
joy and happiness which I felt in seeing her again and in knowing that
she was safely returned to her parents and her city once more. But as my
eyes met hers the exuberance of my spirit was as effectually and quickly
checked by her cold glance and haughty mien as if I had received a blow
in the face.
There was no hint of recognition in Nah-ee-lah’s expression. She nodded
coldly in acknowledgment of the presentation and then let her eyes pass
above my head toward the opposite end of the throne room. My pride was
hurt, and I was angry, but I would not let her see how badly I was hurt.
I have always prided myself upon my control, and so I know that then I
hid my emotion and turned once more to Sagroth, as though I had received
from his daughter the Nonovar precisely the favor that I had a right to
expect. If the Jemadar had noticed aught peculiar in either Nah-ee-lah’s
manner or mine, he gave no hint of it. He spoke again graciously to me
and then dismissed me, with the remark that we should meet again later.
Having withdrawn from the throne room, Ko-tah informed me that following
the audience I should have an opportunity to meet Sagroth less formally,
since he had commanded that I remain in the palace as his guest during
the meal which followed.
“It is a mark of distinction,” said Ko-tah, “but remember, Ju-lan the
Javadar, that you have accepted the friendship of Ko-tah and are his
ally.”
“Do not embroil me in the political intrigues of Laythe,” I replied. “I
am a stranger, with no interest in the internal affairs of your country,
for the reason that I have no knowledge of them.”
“One is either a friend or an enemy,” replied Ko-tah.
“I am not sufficiently well acquainted to be accounted either,” I told
him; “nor shall I choose my friends in Laythe until I am better
acquainted, nor shall another choose them for me.”
“You are a stranger here,” said Ko-tah. “I speak in your best interests,
only. If you would succeed here; aye, if you would live, even, you must
choose quickly and you must choose correctly. I, Ko-tah the Javadar,
have spoken.”
“I choose my own friends,” I replied, “according to the dictates of my
honor and my heart. I, Ju-lan the Javadar, have spoken.”
He bowed low in acquiescence, and when he again raised his eyes to mine
I was almost positive from the expression in them that his consideration
of me was marked more by respect than resentment.
“We shall see,” was all that he said, and withdrew, leaving me to the
kindly attention of some of the gentlemen of Sagroth’s court who had
been standing at a respectful distance out of earshot of Ko-tah and
myself. These men chatted pleasantly with me for some time until I was
bidden to join Sagroth in another part of the palace.
I found myself now with a man who had evidently thrown off the restraint
of a formal audience, though without in the slightest degree
relinquishing either his dignity or his majesty. He spoke more freely
and his manner was more democratic. He asked me to be seated, nor would
he himself sit until I had, a point of Laythean court etiquette which
made a vast impression on me, since it indicated that the first
gentleman of the city must also be the first in courtesy. He put
question after question to me concerning my own world and the means by
which I had been transported to Va-nah.
“There are fragmentary, extremely fragmentary, legends handed down from
extreme antiquity which suggest that our remote ancestors had some
knowledge concerning the other worlds of which you speak,” he said, “but
these have been considered always the veriest of myths. Can it be
possible that, after all, they are based upon truth?”
“The remarkable part of them,” I suggested, “is that they exist at all,
since it is difficult to understand how any knowledge of the outer
Universe could ever reach to the buried depths of Va-nah.”
“No, not by any means,” he said, “if what you tell me is the truth, for
our legends bear out the theory that Va-nah is located in the center of
an enormous globe and that our earliest progenitors lived upon the outer
surface of this globe, being forced at last by some condition which the
legends do not even suggest, to find their way into this inner world.”
I shook my head. It did not seem possible.
“And, yet,” he said, noting the doubt that my expression evidently
betrayed, “you yourself claim to have reached Va-nah from a great world
far removed from our globe which you call the Moon. If you reached us
from another world, is it then so difficult to believe that those who
preceded us reached Va-nah from the outer crust of this Moon? It is
almost an historic certainty,” he continued, “that our ancestors
possessed great ships which navigated the air. As you entered Va-nah by
means of a similar conveyance, may not they have done likewise?”
I had to admit that it was within the range of possibilities, and in so
doing, to avow that the Moon Men of antiquity had been millions of years
in advance of their brethren of the Earth.
But, after all, was it such a difficult conclusion to reach when one
considers the fact that the Moon being smaller, must have cooled more
rapidly than Earth, and therefore, provided that it had an atmosphere,
have been habitable to man ages before man could have lived upon our own
planet?
We talked pleasantly upon many subjects for some time, and then, at
last, Sagroth arose.
“We will join the others at the tables now,” he said, and as he led the
way from the apartment in which we had been conversing alone, stone
doors opened before us as by magic, indicating that the Jemadar of
Laythe was not only well served, but well protected, or possibly well
spied upon.
After we emerged from the private audience, guards accompanied us, some
preceding the Jemadar and some following, and thus we moved in
semi-state through several corridors and apartments until we came out
upon a balcony upon the second floor of the palace overlooking the
terraces and the crater.
Here, along the rail of the balcony, were numerous small tables, each
seating two, all but two of the tables being occupied by royal and noble
retainers and their women. As the Jemadar entered, these all arose,
facing him respectfully, and simultaneously through another entrance,
came the Jemadav and Nah-ee-lah.
They stood just within the room, waiting until Sagroth and I crossed to
them. While we were doing so, Sagroth very courteously explained the
procedure I was to follow.
“You will place yourself upon the Nonovar’s left,” he concluded, “and
conduct her to her table precisely as I conduct the Jemadav.”
Nah-ee-lah’s head was high as I approached her and she vouchsafed me
only the merest inclination of it in response to my respectful
salutation. In silence we followed Sagroth and his Empress to the tables
reserved for us. The balance of the company remained standing until, at
a signal from Sagroth, we all took our seats. It was necessary for me to
watch the others closely, as I knew nothing concerning the social
customs of Laythe, but when I saw that conversation had become general I
glanced at Nah-ee-lah.
“The Princess of Laythe so soon forgets her friends?” I asked.
“The Princess of Laythe never forgets her friends,” she replied.
“I know nothing of your customs here,” I said, “but in my world even
royalty may greet their friends with cordiality and seeming pleasure.”
“And here, too,” she retorted.
I saw that something was amiss, that she seemed to be angry with me, but
the cause I could not imagine. Perhaps she thought I had deserted her at
the entrance to the tunnel leading to the Kalkar city. But no, she must
have guessed the truth. What then, could be the cause of her cold
aloofness, who, the last that I had seen of her, had been warm with
friendship?
“I wonder,” I said, trying a new tack, “if you were as surprised to see
me alive as I you. I had given you up for lost, Nah-ee-lah, and I had
grieved more than I can tell you. When I saw you in the audience chamber
I could scarce repress myself, but when I saw that you did not wish to
recognize me, I could only respect your desires.”
She made no reply, but turned and looked out the window across the
terraces and the crater to the opposite side of Laythe. She was ice, who
had been almost fire. No longer was she little Nah-ee-lah, the companion
of my hardships and dangers. No longer was she friend and confidante,
but a cold and haughty Princess, who evidently looked upon me with
disfavor. Her attitude outraged all the sacred tenets of friendship, and
I was angered.
“Princess,” I said, “if it is customary for Laytheans thus to cast aside
the sacred bonds of friendship, I should do as well to be among the
Va-gas or the Kalkars.”
“The way to either is open,” she replied haughtily. “You are not a
prisoner in Laythe.”
Thereafter conversation languished and expired, as far at least, as
Nah-ee-lah and I were concerned, and I was more than relieved when the
unpleasant function was concluded.
Two young nobles took me in charge, following the meal; as it seemed
that I was to remain as a guest in the palace for awhile, and as I
expressed a desire to see as much of the imperial residence as I might
be permitted to, they graciously conducted me upon a tour of inspection.
We went out upon the outer terraces which overlooked the valleys and the
mountains, and never in my life have I looked upon a landscape more
majestic or inspiring. The crater of Laythe, situated upon a broad
plateau entirely surrounded by lofty mountains, titanic peaks that would
dwarf our Alps into insignificance and reduce the Himalayas to
foothills, lowered far into the distance upon the upper side, the
ice-clad summits of those more distant seemed to veritably topple above
us, while a thousand feet below us the pinks and lavenders of the weird
lunar vegetation lay like a soft carpet upon the gently undulating
surface of the plateau.
But my guides seemed less interested in the scenery than in me. They
plied me with questions continually, until I was more anxious to be rid
of them than aught else that I could think of. They asked me a little
concerning my own world and what I thought of Laythe, and if I found the
Princess Nah-ee-lah charming, and my opinion of the Emperor Sagroth. My
answers must have been satisfactory, for presently they came very close
to me and one of them whispered:
“You need not fear to speak in our presence. We, too, are friends and
followers of Ko-tah.”
“The Devil!” I thought. “They are bound to embroil me in their petty
intrigues. What do I care for Sagroth or Ko-tah or”—and then my
thoughts reverted to Nah-ee-lah. She had treated me cruelly. Her cold
aloofness and her almost studied contempt had wounded me, yet I could
not say to myself that Nah-ee-lah was nothing to me. She had been my
friend and I had been hers, and I should remain her friend to my dying
day. Perhaps, then, if these people were bound to draw me into their
political disputes, I might turn their confidences into profit for
Nah-ee-lah. I had never told them that I was a creature of Ko-tah’s, for
I was not, nor had I ever told Ko-tah that I was an enemy to Sagroth; in
fact, I had led him to believe the very opposite. And so I gave these
two an evasive answer which might have meant anything, and they chose to
interpret it as meaning that I was one of them. Well, what could I do?
It was not my fault if they insisted upon deceiving themselves, and
Nah-ee-lah might yet need the friendship that she had scorned.
“Has Sagroth no loyal followers, then,” I asked, “that you are all so
sure of the success of the _coup d’état_ that Ko-tah plans?”
“Ah, you know about it then!” cried one of them. “You are in the
confidence of the Javadar.”
I let them think that I was. It could do no harm, at least.
“Did he tell you when it was to happen?” asked the other.
“Perhaps, already I have said too much,” I replied. “The confidences of
Ko-tah are not to be lightly spread about.”
“You are right,” said the last speaker. “It is well to be discreet, but
let us assure you, Ju-lan the Javadar, that we are equally in the
confidence and favor of Ko-tah with any of those who serve him;
otherwise, he would not have entrusted us with a portion of the work
which must be done within the very palace of the Jemadar.”
“Have you many accomplices here?” I asked.
“Many,” he replied, “outside of the Jemadar’s guards. They remain loyal
to Sagroth. It is one of the traditions of the organization, and they
will die for him, to a man and,” he added with a shrug, “they shall die,
never fear. When the time arrives and the signal is given, each member
of the guard will be set upon by two of Ko-tah’s faithful followers.”
I do not know how long I remained in the City of Laythe. Time passed
rapidly, and I was very happy after I returned to the dwelling of
Moh-goh. I swam and dived with them and their friends in the baths upon
our terrace, and also in those of Ko-tah. I learned to use the flying
wings that I had first seen upon Nah-ee-lah the day that she fell
exhausted into the clutches of the Va-gas, and many were the lofty and
delightful excursions we took into the higher mountains of the Moon,
when Moh-goh or his friends organized pleasure parties for the purpose.
Constantly surrounded by people of culture and refinement, by brave men
and beautiful women, my time was so filled with pleasurable activities
that I made no effort to gauge it. I felt that I was to spend the
balance of my life here, and I might as well get from it all the
pleasure that Laythe could afford.
I did not see Nah-ee-lah during all this time, and though I still heard
a great deal concerning the conspiracy against Sagroth, I presently came
to attach but little importance to what I did hear, after I learned that
the conspiracy had been on foot for over thirteen kelds, or
approximately about ten earthly years, and seemed, according to my
informers, no nearer consummation than it ever had been in the past.
Time does not trouble these people much, and I was told that it might be
twenty kelds before Ko-tah took action, though on the other hand, he
might strike within the next ola.
There was an occurrence during this period which aroused my curiosity,
but concerning which Moh-goh was extremely reticent. Upon one of the
occasions that I was a visitor in Ko-tah’s palace, I was passing through
a little used corridor in going from one chamber to another, when just
ahead of me a door opened and a man stepped out in front of me. When he
heard my footsteps behind him he turned and looked at me, and then
stepped quickly back into the apartment he had just left and closed the
door hurriedly behind him. There would have been nothing particularly
remarkable in that, had it not been for the fact that the man was not a
Laythean, but unquestionably a Kalkar.
Believing that I had discovered an enemy in the very heart of Laythe, I
leaped forward, and throwing open the door, followed into the apartment
into which the man had disappeared. To my astonishment, I found myself
confronted by six men, three of whom were Kalkars, while the other three
were Laytheans, and among the latter I instantly recognized Ko-tah,
himself. He flushed angrily as he saw me, but before he could speak I
bowed and explained my action.
“I crave your pardon, Javadar,” I said. “I thought that I saw an enemy
of Laythe in the heart of your palace, and that by apprehending him I
should serve you best;” and I started to withdraw from the chamber.
“Wait,” he said. “You did right, but lest you misunderstand their
presence here, I may tell you that these three are prisoners.”
“I realized that at once when I saw you, Javadar,” I replied, though I
knew perfectly that he had lied to me; and then I backed from the room,
closing the door after me.
I spoke to Moh-goh about it the next time that I saw him.
“You saw nothing, my friend,” he said. “Remember that—you saw nothing.”
“If you mean that it is none of my business, Moh-goh,” I replied, “I
perfectly agree with you, and you may rest assured that I shall not
meddle in affairs that do not concern me.”
However, I did considerable thinking upon the matter, and possibly I
went out of my way a little more than one should who is attending
strictly to his own business, that I might keep a little in touch with
the course of the conspiracy, for no matter what I had said to Moh-goh,
no matter how I attempted to convince myself that it did not interest
me, the truth remained that anything that affected in any way the fate
of Nah-ee-lah transcended in interest any event which might transpire
within Va-nah, in so far as I was concerned.
The unobtrusive espionage which I practiced bore fruit, to the extent
that it permitted me to know that on at least three other occasions
delegations of Kalkars visited Ko-tah.
The fact that this ancient palace of the Prince of Laythe was a
never-ending source of interest to me aided me in my self-imposed task
of spying upon the conspirators, for the retainers of Ko-tah were quite
accustomed to see me in out-of-the-way corridors and passages,
oftentimes far from the inhabited portions of the building.
Upon the occasion of one of these tours I had descended to a lower
terrace, along an ancient stone stairway which wound spirally downward
and had discovered a dimly lighted room in which were stored a number of
ancient works of art. I was quietly examining these, when I heard voices
in an adjoining chamber.
“Upon no other conditions will he assist you, Javadar,” said the
speaker, whose voice I first heard.
“His demands are outrageous,” replied a second speaker. “I refuse to
consider them. Laythe is impregnable. He can never take it.” The voice
was that of Ko-tah.
“You do not know him, Laythean,” replied the other. “He has given us
engines of destruction with which we can destroy any city in Va-nah. He
will give you Laythe. Is that not enough?”
“But he will be Jemadar of Jemadars and rule us all!” exclaimed Ko-tah.
“The Jemadar of Laythe can be subservient to none.”
“If you do not accede he will take Laythe in spite of you and reduce you
to the status of a slave.”
“Enough, Kalkar!” cried Ko-tah, his voice trembling with rage. “Be gone!
Tell your master that Ko-tah refuses his base demands.”
“You will regret it, Laythean,” replied the Kalkar, “for you do not know
what this creature has brought from another world in knowledge of war
and the science of destruction of human life.”
“I do not fear him,” snapped Ko-tah, “my swords are many, my spearmen
are well trained. Be gone, and do not return until your master is ready
to sue with Ko-tah for an alliance.”
I heard receding footsteps then, and following that, a silence which I
thought indicated that all had left the chamber, but presently I heard
Ko-tah’s voice again.
“What think you of it?” he asked. And then I heard the voice of a third
man, evidently a Laythean, replying:
“I think that if there is any truth in the fellow’s assertions, we may
not too quickly bring about the fall of Sagroth and place you upon the
throne of Laythe, for only thus may we stand united against a common
outside enemy.”
“You are right,” replied the Javadar. “Gather our forces. We shall
strike within the ola.”
I wanted to hear more, but they passed out of the chamber then, and
their voices became only a subdued murmur which quickly trailed off into
silence. What should I do? Within six hours Ko-tah would strike at the
power of Sagroth, and I well knew what that would mean to Nah-ee-lah;
either marriage with the new Jemadar, or death, and I guessed that the
proud Princess would choose the latter in preference to Ko-tah.