Here was a test for our disguises that I did not care to risk. There was an open doorway at our left; beyond it I could see no one. “Come!” I said to Nur An, and without accelerating our speed we walked nonchalantly into the chamber, and as Nur An crossed the threshold, I closed the door behind him, and as I did so I saw a young woman standing at the opposite side of the apartment looking squarely at us.
“What do you here, warriors?” she demanded.
Here, indeed, was an embarrassing situation. In the corridor without I could hear the clank of the accoutrements of the approaching warriors, and I knew that the girl must hear it too. If I did aught to arouse her suspicion, she had but to call for help. And how might I allay her suspicion when I had not the faintest conception of what might pass for a valid excuse for the presence of two warriors in this particular apartment, which for all I knew might be the apartment of a princess of the royal house, to enter which without permission might easily mean death to a common warrior? I thought quickly, or perhaps I did not think at all; often we act rightly upon impulse and then credit the result to superintelligence.
“We have come for the girl,” I stated brusquely. “Where is she?”
“What girl?” demanded the young woman in surprise.
“The prisoner, of course,” I replied.
“The prisoner?” She looked more puzzled than before.
“Of course,” said Nur An, “the prisoner. Where is she?” and I almost smiled, for I knew that Nur An had not the faintest idea of what was in my mind.
“There is no prisoner here,” said the young woman. “These are the apartments of the infant son of Haj Osis.”
“The fool misdirected us,” I said. “We are sorry that we intruded. We were sent to fetch the girl Tavia, who is a prisoner in the palace.”
It was only a guess. I did not know that Tavia was a prisoner, but after the treatment that had been accorded me I surmised as much.
“She is not here,” said the young woman, “and as for you, you had better leave these apartments at once, for if you are discovered here it will go ill with you.”
Nur An, who was standing beside me, had been looking at the young woman intently. He stepped forward now, closer to her.
“By my first ancestor,” he exclaimed in a low voice, “it is Phao!”
The girl stepped back, her eyes wide with surprise, and then slowly recognition dawned within them. “Nur An!” she exclaimed.
Nur An came close to the girl and took her hand in his. “All these years, Phao, I have thought that you were dead,” he said. “When the ship returned the captain reported that you and a number of others were killed.”
“He lied,” said the girl. “He sold us into slavery here in Tjanath; but you, Nur An, what are you doing here in the harness of Tjanath?”
“I am a prisoner,” replied my companion, “as is this warrior also. We have been confined in the pits beneath the palace and to-day we were to have died The Death, but we killed the two warriors who were sent to fetch us and now we are trying to find our way out of the palace.”
“Then you are not looking for the girl Tavia?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said, “we are looking for her too. She was made a prisoner at the same time that I was.”
“Perhaps I can help you,” said Phao; “perhaps,” she added wistfully, “we may all escape together.”
“I shall not escape without you, Phao,” said Nur An.
“My ancestors have been good to me at last,” said the girl.
“Where is Tavia?” I asked.
“She is in the East Tower,” replied Phao.
“Can you lead us there, or tell us how we may reach it?” I asked.
“It would do no good to lead you to it,” she replied, “as the door is locked and guards stand before it. But there is another way.”
“And that?” I asked.
“I know where the keys are,” she said, “and I know other things that will prove helpful.”
“May our ancestors protect and reward you, Phao,” I said. “And now tell me where I may find the keys.”
“I shall have to lead you to the place myself,” she replied, “but we shall stand a better chance to succeed if there are not too many of us. I therefore suggest that Nur An remain here. I shall place him in hiding where he will not be found. I will then lead you to the prisoner, and, if possible, we will make our way back to this apartment. I am in charge here. Only at regular hours, twice a day, night and morning, does any other visit the apartment of the little prince. Here I can hide you and feed you for a long time, and perhaps eventually we shall be able to evolve some feasible plan for escape.”
“We are in your hands, Phao,” said Nur An. “If there is to be fighting, though, I should like to accompany Hadron.”
“If we succeed there will be no fighting,” replied the girl. She stepped quickly across the room to a door, which she opened, revealing a large closet. “Here, Nur An,” she said, “is where you must remain until we return. There is no reason why anyone should open this door, and in so far as I know, it never has been opened since I have occupied these quarters, except by me.”
“I do not like the idea of hiding,” said Nur An with a grimace, “but—I have had to do many things recently that I did not like,” and without more words he crossed the apartment and entered the closet. Their eyes met for an instant before Phao closed the door, and I read in the depth of both that which made me wonder, remembering as I did the story that Nur An had told me of the other woman whom Tul Axtar had stolen from him. But such matters were no concern of mine, nor had they any bearing upon the business at hand.
“Here is my plan, warrior,” said Phao as she returned to my side. “When you entered this apartment you came saying that you were looking for the prisoner Tavia. Although she was not here, I believed you. We will go, therefore, to Yo Seno, the keeper of the keys, and you will tell him the same story, that you have been sent to fetch the prisoner Tavia. If Yo Seno believes you, all will be well, for he will go himself and release the prisoner, turning her over to you.”
“And if he does not believe me?” I asked.
“He is a beast,” she said, “who is better dead than alive. Therefore you will know what to do.”
“I understand,” I said. “Lead the way.”
The office of Yo Seno, the keeper of the keys, was upon the fourth level of the palace, almost directly above the quarters of the infant prince. At the doorway Phao halted, and drawing my ear down to her lips, whispered her final instructions. “I shall enter first,” she said, “upon some trivial errand. A moment later you may enter, but pay no attention to me. It must not appear that we have come together.”
“I understand,” I said, and walked a few paces along the corridor so that I should not be in sight when the door opened. She told me afterwards that she asked Yo Seno to have a new key made for one of the numerous doors in the apartment of the little prince.
I waited but a moment, and then I too entered the apartment. It was a gloomy room without windows. Upon its walls hung keys of every imaginable size and shape. Behind a large desk sat a coarse-looking man, who looked up quickly and scowled at the interruption as I entered.
“Well?” he demanded.
“I have come for the woman Tavia,” I said, “the prisoner from Jahar.”
“Who sent you? What do you want of her?” he demanded.
“I have orders to bring her to Haj Osis,” I replied.
He looked at me suspiciously. “You bring a written order?” he asked.
“Of course not,” I replied, “it is not necessary. She is not to be taken out of the palace; merely from one apartment to another.”
“I must have a written order,” he snapped.
“Haj Osis will not be pleased,” I said, “when he learns that you have refused to obey his command.”
“I am not refusing,” said Yo Seno. “Do not dare to say that I refuse. I cannot turn a prisoner over without a written order.
Show me your authority and I will give you the keys.”
I saw that the plan had failed; other measures must be taken. I whipped out my long sword. “Here is my authority!” I exclaimed, leaping towards him.
With an oath he drew his own sword, but instead of facing me with it he stepped quickly back, the desk still between us, and, turning, struck a copper gong heavily with the flat of his blade.
As I rushed towards him I heard the sound of hurrying feet and the clank of metal from an adjoining room. Yo Seno, still backing away, sneered sardonically, and then the lights went out and the windowless room was plunged into darkness. Soft fingers grasped my left hand and a low voice whispered in my ear, “Come with me.”
Quickly I was drawn to one side and through a narrow aperture just as a door upon the opposite side of the chamber was flung open, revealing the forms of half a dozen warriors silhouetted against the light from the room behind them. Then the door closed directly in front of my face and I was again in utter darkness, but Phao’s fingers still grasped my hand.
“Silence!” a soft voice whispered.
From beyond the panels I heard angry and excited voices. Above the others one voice rose in tones of authority. “What is wrong here?”
There were muttered exclamations and curses as men bumped against pieces of furniture and ran into one another.
“Give us a light,” cried a voice, and a moment later, “That is better.”
“Where is Yo Seno? Oh, there you are, you fat rascal. What is amiss?”
“By Issus! he is gone.” The voice was that of Yo Seno.
“Who is gone?” demanded the other voice. “Why did you summon us?”
“I was attacked by a warrior,” explained Yo Seno, “who came demanding the key to the apartment where Haj Osis keeps the daughter of——” I could not hear the rest of the sentence.
“Well, where is the man?” demanded the other.
“He is gone—and the key too. The key is gone.” Yo Seno’s voice rose almost to a wail.
“Quick, then, to the apartment where the girl is kept,” cried the first speaker, doubtless the officer of the guard, and almost at once I heard them hasten from the apartment.
The girl at my side moved a little and I heard a low laugh. “They will not find the key,” she said.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because I have it,” she replied.
“Little good it will do us,” I said ruefully. “They will keep the door well guarded now and we cannot use the key.”
Phao laughed again. “We do not need the key,” she said. “I took it to throw them off the track. They will watch the door while we enter elsewhere.”
“I do not understand,” I said.
“This corridor leads between the partitions to the room where the prisoner is kept. I know that because, when I was a prisoner in that room, Yo Seno came thus to visit me. He is a beast. I hope he has not visited this girl—I hope it for your sake, if you love her.”
“I do not love her,” I said. “She is only a friend.” But I scarcely knew what I was saying, the words seemed to come mechanically, for I was in the grip of such an emotion as I never before had experienced or endured. It had seized me the instant that Phao had suggested that Yo Seno might have visited Tavia through this secret corridor. I experienced a sensation that was almost akin to a convulsion—a sensation that left me a changed man. Before, I could have killed Yo Seno with my sword and been glad; now I wanted to tear him to pieces; I wanted to mutilate him and make him suffer. Never before in my life had I experienced such a bestial desire. It was hideous, and yet I gloated in its possession.
“What is the matter?” exclaimed Phao. “I thought I felt you tremble then.”
“I trembled,” I said.
“For what?” she asked.
“For Yo Seno,” I replied; “but let us hasten. If this corridor leads to the apartment where Tavia is in prison, I cannot reach her too soon, for when Haj Osis learns that the key has been stolen he will have her removed to another prison.”
“He will not learn it if Yo Seno and the padwar of the guard can prevent,” said Phao, “for if this reached the ears of Haj Osis it might easily cost them both their lives. They will wait for you to come that they may kill you and get the key, but they will wait outside the prison door and you will not come that way.”
As she spoke she started to walk along the narrow, dark corridor, leading me by the hand behind her. It was slow work, for Phao had to grope her way slowly because the corridor turned sharply at right angles as it followed the partitions of the apartments between which it passed, and there were numerous stairways that led up over doorways and finally a ladder to the level above.
Presently she halted. “We are there,” she whispered, “but we must listen first to make sure that no one has entered the apartment with the prisoner.”
I could see absolutely nothing in the darkness, and how Phao knew that she had reached her destination I could not guess.
“It is all right,” she said presently, and simultaneously she pushed a wooden panel ajar, and in the opening I saw a portion of the interior of a circular apartment with narrow windows heavily barred. Opposite the opening, upon a pile of sleeping silks and furs, I saw a woman reclining. Only a bare shoulder, a tiny ear and a head of tousled hair were visible. At the first glance I knew that they were Tavia’s.
As we stepped into the apartment Phao closed the panel behind us. Attracted by the sound of our entrance, quietly executed though it was, Tavia sat up and looked at us and then, as she recognized me, sprang to her feet. Her eyes were wide with surprise and there was an exclamation upon her lips, which I silenced by a warning forefinger placed against my own. I crossed the apartment towards her, and she came to meet me, almost running. As I looked into her eyes I saw an expression there that I have never seen in the eyes of any other woman—at least not for me—and if I had ever doubted Tavia’s friendship, such a doubt would have vanished in that instant, but I had not doubted it and I was only surprised now to realize the depth of it. Had Sanoma Tora ever looked at me like that I should have read love in the expression, but I had never spoken of love to Tavia and so I knew that it was only friendship that she felt. I had always been too much engrossed in my profession to make any close friendships, so that I had never realized until that moment what a wonderful thing friendship might be.
As we met in the centre of the room her eyes, moist with tears, were upturned to mine. “Hadron,” she whispered, her voice husky with emotion, and then I put my arm about her slender shoulders and drew her to me, and something that was quite beyond my volition impelled me to kiss her upon the forehead. Instantly she disengaged herself and I feared that she had misunderstood that impulsive kiss of friendship, but the next words reassured me.
“I thought never to see you again, Hadron of Hastor,” she said. “I feared that they had killed you. How comes it that you are here and in the metal of a warrior of Tjanath?”
I told her briefly of what had occurred to me since we had been separated and of how I had temporarily, at least, escaped The Death. She asked me what The Death was, but I could not tell her.
“It is very horrible,” said Phao.
“What is it?” I asked.
“I do not know,” replied the girl, “only that it is horrible. There is a deep pit, some say a bottomless pit, beneath the lower pits of the palace; horrible noises—groans and moans—arise perpetually from it, and into this pit those that are to die The Death are cast, but in such a way that the fall will not kill them. They must reach the bottom alive to endure all the horrors of The Death that await them there. That the torture is almost interminable is evidenced by the fact that the moans and groans of the victims never cease, no matter how long a period may have elapsed between executions.”
“And you have escaped it,” exclaimed Tavia. “My prayers have been answered. For days and nights have I been praying to my ancestors that you might be spared. Now if you can but escape fro
m this hateful place! Have you a plan?”
“We have a plan that with the help of Phao here may prove successful. Nur An, of whom I told you, is hiding in a closet in one of the apartments of the little prince. We shall return to that apartment at the first opportunity, and there Phao will hide all three of us until some opportunity for escape presents itself.”
“And we should lose no more time in returning,” said Phao. “Come, let us go at once.”
As we turned towards the panel through which we had entered I saw that it was ajar, though I was confident that Phao had closed it after us when we entered, and simultaneously I could have sworn that I saw an eye glued to the narrow crack, as though someone watched us from the dark interior of the secret corridor.
In a single bound I was across the room and had drawn the panel aside. My sword was ready in my hand, but there was no one in the corridor beyond.
chapter VII
THE DEATH
WITH PHAO IN THE LEAD and Tavia between us, we traversed the dark corridor back towards the apartment of Yo Seno. When we reached the panel marking the end of our journey, Phao halted and together we listened intently for any sound that might evidence the presence of an occupant in the room beyond. All was silent as the tomb.
“I believe,” said Phao, “that it will be safer if you and Tavia remain here until night. I shall return to my apartment and go about my duties in the usual manner, and after the palace has quieted down these levels will be almost deserted; then I can come and get you with far less danger of detection than were I to take you to the apartment now.”
We agreed that her plan was a good one, and bidding us a temporary farewell, she opened the panel sufficiently to permit her to survey the apartment beyond. It was quite empty. She stepped from the corridor, closing the panel behind her, and once again Tavia and I were plunged into darkness.
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