GROWING DANGER
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’etat_ 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.