DEATH WITHIN AND WITHOUT!
As rapidly as I could I made my way from the palace of Ko-tah, and
upward, terrace by terrace, toward the palace of the Jemadar. I had
never presented myself at Sagroth’s palace since Nah-ee-lah had so
grievously offended me. I did not even know the customary procedure
to follow to gain an audience with the Emperor, but nevertheless I
came boldly to the carven gates and demanded to speak with the
officer in command of the guards. When he came I told him that I
desired to speak either with Sagroth or the Princess Nah-ee-lah at
once, upon a matter of the most urgent importance.
“Wait,” he said, “and I will take your message to the Jemadar.”
He was gone for what seemed to me a very long time, but at last he
returned, saying that Sagroth would see me at once, and I was
conducted through the gates and into the palace toward the small
audience chamber in which Sagroth had once received me so graciously.
As I was ushered into the room I found myself facing both Sagroth and
Nah-ee-lah. The attitude of the Jemadar seemed apparently judicial,
but that of the Princess was openly hostile.
“What are you doing here, traitor?” she demanded, without waiting for
Sagroth to speak, and at the same instant a door upon the opposite
side of the room burst open and three warriors leaped into the
apartment with bared swords. They wore the livery of Ko-tah, and I
knew instantly the purpose for which they had come. Drawing my own
sword, I leaped forward.
“I have come to defend the life of the Jemadar and his Princess,” I
cried, as I sprang between them and the advancing three.
“What means this?” demanded Sagroth. “How dare you enter the presence
of your Jemadar with drawn sword?”
“They are the assassins of Ko-tah come to slay you!” I cried. “Defend
yourself, Sagroth of Laythe!” And with that, I tried to engage the
three until help arrived.
I am no novice with the sword. The art of fencing has been one of my
chief diversions since my cadet days in the Air School, and I did not
fear the Laytheans, though I knew that, even were they but mediocre
swordsmen, I could not for long withstand the assaults of three at
once. But upon this point I need not have concerned myself, for no
sooner had I spoken than Sagroth’s sword leaped from its scabbard,
and placing himself at my side, he fought nobly and well in defense
of his life and his honor.
One of our antagonists merely tried to engage me while the other two
assassinated the Jemadar. And so, seeing that he was playing me, and
that I could do with him about as I pleased if I did not push him too
hard, I drove him back a few steps until I was close at the side of
one of those who engaged Sagroth. Then before any could know my
intention, I wheeled and lunged my sword through the heart of one of
those who opposed the father of Nah-ee-lah. So quickly had I
disengaged my former antagonist, so swift my lunge, that I had
recovered and was ready to meet the renewed assaults of the first who
had engaged me almost before he realized what had happened.
It was man against man, now, and the odds were even. I had no
opportunity to watch Sagroth, but from the ring of steel on steel, I
knew that the two were bitterly engaged. My own man kept me well
occupied. He was a magnificent swordsman, but he was only fighting
for his life; I was fighting for more—for my life and for my honor,
too, since after the word “traitor” that Nah-ee-lah had hurled at me,
I had felt that I must redeem myself in her eyes. I did not give any
thought at all to the question as to just why I should care what Nah-
ee-lah the Moon Maid thought of me, but something within me reacted
mightily to the contempt that she had put into that single word.
I could catch an occasional glimpse of her standing there behind the
massive desk at which her father had sat upon the first occasion of
my coming to this chamber. She stood there very tense, her wide eyes
fixed upon me in evident incredulity.
I had almost worn my man down and we were fighting now so that I was
facing Nah-ee-lah, with my back toward the doorway through which the
three assassins had entered. Sagroth must have been more than holding
his own, too, for I could see his opponent slowly falling back before
the older man’s assaults. And then there broke above the clang of
steel a girl’s voice—Nah-ee-lah’s—raised in accents of fear.
“Julian, beware! Behind you! Behind you!”
At the instant of her warning the eyes of my antagonist left mine,
which, for his own good, they never should have done, and passed in a
quick glance over my shoulder at something or someone behind me. His
lack of concentration cost him his life. I saw my opening the instant
that it was made, and with a quick lunge I passed my blade through
his heart. Whipping it out again, I wheeled to face a dozen men
springing into the chamber. They paid no attention to me, but leaped
toward Sagroth, and before I could prevent he went down with half a
dozen blades through his body.
Upon the opposite side of the desk from us was another door-way
directly behind Nah-ee-lah, and in the instant that she saw Sagroth
fall, she called to me in a low voice: “Come, Julian, quick! Or we,
too, are lost.”
Realizing that the Jemadar was dead and that it would be folly to
remain and attempt to fight this whole roomful of warriors, I leaped
the desk and followed Nah-ee-lah through the doorway beyond. There
was a cry, then, from someone within the room, to stop us, but Nah-ee-
lah wheeled and slammed the door in their faces as they rushed
forward, fastened it upon our side and then turned to me.
“Julian,” she said, “how can you ever forgive me? You who have risked
your life for the Jemadar, my father, in spite of the contemptible
treatment that in my ignorance I have accorded you?”
“I could have explained,” I said, “but you would not let me.
Appearances were against me, and so I cannot blame you for thinking
as you did.”
“It was wicked of me not to listen to you, Julian, but I thought that
Ko-tah had won you over, as he has won over even some of the
staunchest friends of Sagroth.”
“You might have known, Nah-ee-lah, that, even could I have been
disloyal to your father, I never could have been disloyal to his
daughter.”
“I did not know,” she said. “How could I?”
There suddenly came over me a great desire to take her in my arms and
cover those lovely lips with kisses. I could not tell why this
ridiculous obsession had seized upon me, nor why, of a sudden, I
became afraid of little Nah-ee-lah, the Moon Maid. I must have looked
very foolish indeed, standing there looking at her, and suddenly I
realized how fatuous I must appear, and so I shook myself and
laughed.
“Come, Nah-ee-lah,” I said, “we must not remain here. Where can I
take you, that you will be safe?”
“Upon the outer terrace there may be some of the loyal guards,” she
replied, “but if Ko-tah has already taken the palace, flight will be
useless.”
“From what I know of the conspiracy, it will be useless,” I replied,
“for the service of Sagroth and his palace is rotten with the spies
and retainers of the Javadar.”
“I feared as much,” she said. “The very men who came to assassinate
Sagroth wore the imperial livery less than an ola since.”
“Are there none, then, loyal to you?” I asked her.
“The Jemadar’s guard is always loyal,” she said, “but they number
scarce a thousand men.”
“How may we summon them?” I asked.
“Let us go to the outer terraces and if there are any of them there
we can congregate the balance, or as many of them as Ko-tah has left
alive.”
“Come, then,” I said, “let us hasten;” and together, hand in hand, we
ran along the corridors of the Jemadar’s palace to the outer terraces
of the highest tier of Laythe. There we found a hundred men, and when
we had told them of what had happened within the palace they drew
their swords and, surrounding Nah-ee-lah, they shouted:
“To the death for Nah-ee-lah, Jemadav of Laythe!”
They wanted to remain there and protect her, but I told them that
there would be nothing gained by that, that sooner or later they
would be overwhelmed by far greater numbers, and the cause of Nah-ee-
lah lost.
“Send a dozen men,” I said to their commander, “to rally all of the
loyal guards that remain alive. Tell them to come to the throne room,
ready to lay down their lives for the new Jemadav, and then let the
dozen continue on out into the city, rallying the people to the
protection of Nah-ee-lah. As for us, we will accompany her
immediately to the throne room, and there, place her upon the throne
and proclaim her ruler of Laythe. A hundred men may hold the throne
room for a long time, if we reach it before Ko-tah reaches it with
his forces.”
The officer looked at Nah-ee-lah questioningly.
“Your command, Jemadav?” he inquired.
“We will follow the plan of Ju-lan the Javadar,” she replied.
Immediately a dozen warriors were dispatched to rally the Imperial
Guard and arouse the loyal citizens of the city to the protection of
their new Jemadav, while the balance of us conducted Nah-ee-lah by a
short course toward the throne room.
As we entered the great chamber at one end, Ko-tah and a handful of
warriors came in at the other, but we had the advantage, in that we
entered through a doorway directly behind the throne and upon the
dais.
“Throw your men upon the main entrance,” I called to the officer of
the guard, “and hold it until reinforcements come;” and then, as the
hundred raced the length of the throne room toward the surprised and
enraged Ko-tah, I led Nah-ee-lah to the central throne and seated her
upon it. Then stepping forward, I raised my hand for silence.
“The Jemadar Sagroth is dead!” I cried. “Behold Nah-ee-lah, the
Jemadav of Laythe!”
“Stop!” cried Ko-tah, “she may share the throne with me, but she may
not possess it alone.”
“Take that traitor!” I called to the loyal guard, and they rushed
forward, evidently glad to do my bidding. But Ko-tah did not wait to
be taken. He was accompanied by only a handful of men, and when he
saw that the guard really intended to seize him and realized that he
would be given short shift at the hands of Nah-ee-lah and myself, he
turned and fled. But I knew he would come back, and come back he did,
though not until after the majority of the Jemadav’s guard had
gathered within the throne room.
He came with a great concourse of warriors, and the fighting was
furious, but he might have brought a million men against our thousand
and not immediately have overcome us, since only a limited number
could fight at one time in the entrance way to the throne room.
Already the corpses lay stacked as high as a man’s head, yet no
single member of Ko-tah’s forces had crossed the threshold.
How long the fight was waged I do not know, but it must have been for
a considerable time, since I know that our men fought in relays and
rested many times, and that food was brought from other parts of the
palace to the doorway behind the throne, and there were times when Ko-
tah’s forces withdrew and rested and recuperated, but always they
came back in greater number, and eventually I realized we must be
worn down by the persistence of their repeated attacks.
And then there arose slowly a deep-toned sound, at first we could not
interpret. It rose and fell in increasing volume, until finally we
knew that it was the sound of human voices, the voices of a great mob—
of a mighty concourse of people and that it was sweeping toward us
slowly and resistlessly.
Closer and closer it approached the palace as it rose, terrace upon
terrace, toward the lofty pinnacle of Laythe. The fighting at the
entrance to the throne room had almost ceased. Both sides were worn
down almost to utter exhaustion, and now we but stood upon our arms
upon either side of the wall of corpses that lay between us, our
attention centered upon the sound of the growling multitude that was
sweeping slowly upward toward us.
“They come,” cried one of Nah-ee-lah’s nobles, “to acclaim the new
Jemadav and to tear the minions of Ko-tah the traitor to pieces!”
He spoke in a loud voice that was easily audible to Ko-tah and his
retainers in the corridor without.
“They come to drag the spawn of Sagroth from the throne!” cried one
of Ko-tah’s followers. And then from the throne came the sweet, clear
voice of Nah-ee-lah:
“Let the people’s will be done,” she said, and thus we stood,
awaiting the verdict of the populace. Nor had we long to wait, for
presently we realized that they had reached the palace terrace and
entered the building itself. We could hear the shouting horde moving
through the corridors and chambers, and finally the muffled bellowing
resolved itself into articulate words:
“Sagroth is no more! Rule, Ko-tah, Jemadar of Laythe!”
I turned in consternation toward Nah-ee-lah. “What does it mean?” I
cried. “Have the people turned against you?”
“Ko-tah’s minions have done their work well during these many kelds,”
said the commander of the Jemadav’s guard, who stood upon the upper
steps of the dais, just below the throne. “They have spread lies and
sedition among the people which not even Sagroth’s just and kindly
reign could overcome.”
“Let the will of the people be done,” repeated Nah-ee-lah.
“It is the will of fools betrayed by a scoundrel,” cried the
commander of the guard. “While there beats a single heart beneath the
tunic of a guardsman of the Jemadav, we shall fight for Nah-ee-lah,
Empress of Laythe.”
Ko-tah’s forces, now augmented by the rabble, were pushing their way
over the corpses and into the throne room, so that we were forced to
join the defenders, that we might hold them off while life remained
to any of us. When the commander of the guard saw me fighting at his
side he asked me to return to Nah-ee-lah.
“We must not leave the Jemadav alone,” he said. “Return and remain at
her side, Ju-lan the Javadar, and when the last of us has fallen,
drive your dagger into her heart.”
I shuddered and turned back toward Nah-ee-lah. The very thought of
plunging my dagger into that tender bosom fairly nauseated me. There
must be some other way, and yet, what other means of escape could
there be for Nah-ee-lah, who preferred death to the dishonor of
surrender to Ko-tah, the murderer of her father? As I reached Nah-ee-
lah’s side, and turned again to face the entrance to the throne room,
I saw that the warriors of Ko-tah were being pushed into the chamber
by the mob behind them and that our defenders were being overwhelmed
by the great number of their antagonists. Ko-tah, with a half dozen
warriors, had been carried forward, practically without volition, by
the press of numbers in their rear, and even now, with none to
intercept him, was running rapidly up the broad center aisle toward
the throne. Some of those in the entrance way saw him, and as he
reached the foot of the steps leading to the dais, a snarling cry
arose:
“Ko-tah the Jemadar!”
With bared sword, the fellow leaped toward me where I stood alone
between Nah-ee-lah and her enemies.
“Surrender, Julian!” she cried. “It is futile to oppose them. You are
not of Laythe. Neither duty nor honor impose upon you the necessity
of offering your life for one of us. Spare him, Ko-tah!” she cried to
the advancing Javadar, “and I will bow to the will of the people and
relinquish the throne to you.”
“Ko-tah the traitor shall never sit upon the throne of Nah-ee-lah!” I
exclaimed, and leaping forward, I engaged the Prince of Laythe.
His warriors were close behind him, and it behooved me to work fast,
and so I fought as I had never guessed that it lay within me to
fight, and at the instant that the rabble broke through the remaining
defenders and poured into the throne room of the Jemadars of Laythe,
I slipped my point into the heart of Ko-tah. With a single piercing
shriek, he threw his hands above his head and toppled backward down
the steps to lie dead at the foot of the throne he had betrayed.
For an instant the silence of death reigned in the great chamber.
Friend and foe stood alike in the momentary paralysis of shocked
surprise.
That tense, breathless silence had endured for but a moment, when it
was shattered by a terrific detonation. We felt the palace tremble
and rock. The assembled mob looked wildly about, their eyes filled
with fear and questioning. But before they could voice a question,
another thunderous report burst upon our startled ears, and then from
the city below the palace there arose the shrieks and screams of
terrified people. Again the palace trembled, and a great crack opened
in one of the walls of the throne room. The people saw it, and in an
instant their anger against the dynasty of Sagroth was swallowed in
the moral terror which they felt for their own safety. With shrieks
and screams they turned and bolted for the doorway. The weaker were
knocked down and trampled upon. They fought with fists and swords and
daggers, in their mad efforts to escape the crumbling building. They
tore the clothing from one another, as each sought to drag back his
fellow, that he might gain further in the race for the outer world.
And as the rabble fought, Nah-ee-lah and I stood before the throne of
Laythe, watching them, while below us the few remaining members of
the Jemadar’s guard stood viewing in silent contempt the terror of
the people.
Explosion after explosion followed one another in rapid succession.
The people had fled. The palace was empty, except for that handful of
us faithful ones who remained within the throne room.
“Let us go,” I said to Nah-ee-lah, “and discover the origin of these
sounds, and the extent of the damage that is being done.”
“Come,” she said, “here is a short corridor to the inner terrace,
where we may look down upon the entire city of Laythe.” And then,
turning to the commander of the guard she said: “Proceed, please, to
the palace gates, and secure them against the return of our enemies,
if they have by this time all fled from the palace grounds.”
The officer bowed, and followed by the few heroic survivors of the
Jemadar’s guard, he left by another corridor for the palace gates,
while I followed Nah-ee-lah up a stairway that led to the roof of the
palace.
Coming out upon the upper terrace, we made our way quickly to the
edge overlooking the city and the crater. Below us a shrieking
multitude ran hither and thither from terrace to terrace, while, now
here and now there, terrific explosions occurred that shattered age-
old structures and carried debris high into the air. Many terraces
showed great gaps and tumbled ruins where other explosions had
occurred and smoke and flames were rising from a dozen portions of
the city.
But an instant it took me to realize that the explosions were caused
by something that was being dropped into the city from above, and as
I looked up I saw a missile describing an arc above the palace, past
which it hurtled to a terrace far below, and at once I realized that
the missile had originated outside the city. Turning quickly, I ran
across the terrace to the outer side which overlooked the plateau
upon which the city stood. I could not repress an exclamation of
astonishment at the sight that greeted my eyes, for the surface of
the plateau was alive with warriors. Nah-ee-lah had followed me and
was standing at my elbow. “The Kalkars,” she said. “They have come
again to reduce Laythe. It has been long since they attempted it,
many generations ago, but what is it, Julian, that causes the great
noise and the destruction and the fires within Laythe?”
“It is this which fills me with surprise,” I said, “and not the
presence of the Kalkar warriors. Look! Nah-ee-lah,” and I pointed to
a knoll lying at the verge of the plateau, where, unless my eyes
deceived me badly, there was mounted a mortar which was hurling
shells into the city of Laythe. “And there, and there,” I continued,
pointing to other similar engines of destruction mounted at
intervals. “The city is surrounded with them, Nah-ee-lah. Have your
people any knowledge of such engines of warfare or of high
explosives?” I demanded.
“Only in our legends are such things mentioned,” she replied. “It has
been ages since the inhabitants of Va-nah lost the art of
manufacturing such things.”
As we stood there talking, one of the Jemadar’s guards emerged from
the palace and approached us.
“Nah-ee-lah, Jemadav,” he cried, “there is one here who craves
audience with you and who says that if you listen to him you may save
your city from destruction.”
“Fetch him,” replied Nah-ee-lah. “We will receive him here.”
We had but a moment to wait when the guardsman returned with one of
Ko-tah’s captains.
“Nah-ee-lah, Jemadav,” he cried, when she had given him permission to
speak, “I come to you with a message from one who is Jemadar of
Jemadars, ruler of all Va-nah. If you would save your city and your
people, listen well.”
The girl’s eyes narrowed. “You are speaking to your Jemadav, fellow,”
she said. “Be careful, not only of your words, but of your tone.”
“I come but to save you,” replied the man sullenly. “The Kalkars have
discovered a great leader, and they have joined together from many
cities to overthrow Laythe. My master does not wish to destroy this
ancient city, and there is but one simple condition upon which he
will spare it.”
“Name your condition,” said Nah-ee-lah.
“If you will wed him, he will make Laythe the capital of Va-nah, and
you shall rule with him as Jemadav of Jemadavs.” Nah-ee-lah’s lips
curled in scorn. “And who is the presumptuous Kalkar that dares
aspire to the hand of Nah-ee-lah?” she demanded.
“He is no Kalkar, Jemadav,” replied the messenger. “He is one from
another world, who says that he knows you well and that he has loved
you long.”
“His name,” snapped Nah-ee-lah impatiently.
“He is called Or-tis, Jemadar of Jemadars.” Nah-ee-lah turned toward
me with elevated brows and a smile of comprehension upon her face.
“Or-tis,” she repeated.
“Now, I understand, my Jemadav,” I said, “and I am commencing to have
some slight conception of the time that must have elapsed since I
first landed within Va-nah, for even since our escape from the Va-
gas, Orthis has had time to discover the Kalkars and ingratiate
himself among them, to conspire with them for the overthrow of
Laythe, and to manufacture explosives and shells and the guns which
are reducing Laythe this moment. Even had I not heard the name, I
might have guessed that it was Orthis, for it is all so like him—
ingrate, traitor, cur.”
“Go back to your master,” she said to the messenger, “and tell him
that Nah-ee-lah, Jemadav of Laythe, would as leave mate with Ga-va-go
the Va-ga as with him, and that Laythe will be happier destroyed and
her people wiped from the face of Va-nah than ruled by such a beast.
I have spoken. Go.”
The fellow turned and left us, being accompanied from Nah-ee-lah’s
presence by the guardsman who had fetched him, and whom Nah-ee-lah
commanded to return as soon as he had conducted the other outside the
palace gates. Then the girl turned to me:
“O, Julian, what shall I do? How may I combat those terrible forces
that you have brought to Va-nah from another world?”
I shook my head. “We, too, could manufacture both guns and ammunition
to combat him, but now we have not the time, since Laythe will be
reduced to a mass of ruins before we could even make a start. There
is but one way, Nah-ee-lah, and that is to send your people—every
fighting man that you can gather, and the women, too, if they can
bear arms, out upon the plateau in an effort to overwhelm the Kalkars
and destroy the guns.”
She stood and thought for a long time, and presently the officer of
the guard returned and halted before her, awaiting her commands.
Slowly she raised her head and looked at him.
“Go into the city,” she said, “and gather every Laythean who can
carry a sword, a dagger, or a lance. Tell them to assemble on the
inner terraces below the castle, and that I, Nah-ee-lah their
Jemadav, will address them. The fate of Laythe rests with you. Go.”