by John Jakes
I decided then and there to abandon Conax to his own mad devices. If he wished to be seized, that was up to him. But I was determined to make one final, brave effort to gain the security of Rotten Row. Its denizens would surely conceal us in their midst.
So deciding, I ran.
I had gone but a few wobbly paces when I found the barbarian panting at my side. As we slipped and slathered along a twisty way, I inquired:
"What (pant) changed your mind?"
"I wanted to ask you a question."
"More philosophic quibbles! Here, to the right—Rotten Row can't be more than two blocks away."
"I (puff) have encountered (puff), as I believe I have remarked (pant), warlocks, demons, and monsters without number, during (gasp) the course of my barbaric career. But I have never—upon my stars, never!—witnessed such a sight as I saw at the palace. What (puff) were those blue devils, anyway?"
"A visitation of the wrath of the gods? Mummers preparing for a performance? In heaven's name, how should I know? At the moment, I'm not the least interested. My own skin is my main—"
At that exact moment, I ceased speaking, and my spirits fell to their lowest point of the night.
Directly ahead, the darkened street which we were traversing opened directly onto a cross-thoroughfare. On its opposite side rose the dives of Rotten Row.
But its denizens would offer us no sanctuary this night. Those denizens were being herded out of the various establishments by yet another company of Pytho's soldiers. Even little Mimmo was being manhandled!
Heartsick, I halted in the shadow a few steps from the street's end. Suddenly a shape glided from a black doorway, stomach foremost.
"Care for a little entertainment, stranger? Half-price special in effect tonight only—"
"Rhomona! Why are you on the streets?"
"I haven't had time to arrange for that short loan as yet. And I can't get a single customer, even by offering bargain rates. Careful, Hoptor, not too close to the light! Those soldiers have turned the town upside-down."
"Of that I am well aware."
"You realize they're all searching for you. I've never before seen such an extensive manhunt."
"When General Pytho succumbs to a fixation," I sighed, "he truly succumbs."
"Who's your handsome, muscular friend?" she asked, casting her eyes over Conax's thews.
"Never mind, I've no time for introductions. Gods preserve me, Rotten Row was our last hope!"
Conax hitched up his clout and flexed his fingers into claws. "Since that refuge is plainly gone, I am going to march out there and make my death-stand. May Crok guide me to his sacred, scented bowers, freighted on the raging red river of the blood of my enemies!"
"For mercy's sake, Conax, not again—!"
"I hate to say it, Hoptor," remarked Rhomona, "but a last ditch fight may be your only alternative. General Pytho's men have informed everyone that you are to be executed on sight. I can't think of a single safe hiding place, short of your jumping in the sea."
"You're absolutely right. My villa is surrounded, the Bloody Bench is unavailable, even—Rhomona!"
"What?" she cried, sorely alarmed.
"Rhomona, you have repaid Hoptor the Vintner tenfold!" Thereupon I seized her, and bussed her cheek.
Then I lunged after the tag end of Conax's cloak, catching it an instant before he reached the cross-street.
"Wait, wait, don't make your death-stand yet! I have an idea."
"What is it this time? If it's like all your other schemes, it probably won't work."
"Yes, I believe it will. Rhomona, run out there and keep their attention diverted. My friend and I are going to clamber up yonder outside stair. If we go via the rooftops, it's but four squares to the seawall."
I gave the wench a shove, and she waddled into the light, immediately attracting the attention of the soldiers because of her advanced condition. Conax scampered after me up the staircase.
Following numerous hairbreadth adventures while crossing various tiled and slated roofs—at least up there, we met no members of the military!—we reached the great Island Kingdom wall.
We came down from the roofs near one of the mighty stone control wheels. When turned by a gang, each wheel revealed an opening—a valve—through which flood waters could rush out at low tide.
A few paces past the stone wheel, we climbed a public stair to the wall's summit, descending by a similar stair on the other side.
And there, exactly where I had hoped they would be, we found the small open boats of the Atlantean fishermen beached for the night among nets and pots on the reeking sand.
I selected the most seaworthy, hauled it into the foaming surf, and immediately clambered in. The tiny vessel threatened to capsize.
By jiggling one way and then another, I managed to balance it. Conax dutifully jumped in too, while I began to ply the oars.
"Where are we going?" he wanted to know.
Wondering again about the intelligence necessary to be named a king in Chimeria, I retorted, "Why, on a pleasure cruise to the Isles Below the Wind. Where do you think we're going? We're going out to sea! We shall row around for a day, and perhaps by tomorrow night, it will be safe to return to shore. I remind you—perilous though the sea may be, we have no other safe haven."
"But we're liable to meet sea monsters and other demons of the deep."
"If so, it will give you a splendid opportunity to make your death-stand."
"You have a point," he agreed, settling back on his bench. "However, you will have to do all the rowing. In Chimeria, a king does not perform manual labor."
* Nine *
Happy to put the beach and its rotting fish-heads behind—not to mention possible search parties!—I plied the oars as vigorously as my strength would permit. To be perfectly honest, one does not develop stout muscles in the vintner's trade—except in that portion of the brain devoted to sharp bargaining!
Therefore, when we were a sufficient distance from the narrow necklace of beach which ringed fair Atlantis, I stepped the splintery mast. After I had installed the tiller in its socket, I handed a line to Conax and took up my position in the stern.
"What am I supposed to do with this rope?"
"Don't you know anything about sailing?"
"I am a king! My sailing master handles those mundane details."
"I see. Well, do nothing until I instruct you to give it a smart tug. Surely that is not too demeaning for you."
My temper had grown short, I confess, due to lack of rest, food, and the general tensions of the night. Conax pondered my remark, but said nothing, which was to the good. I do believe that a retort would have caused me to ignore his thews and paste him a stiff one in the mouth.
Gradually the breeze caught our much-patched sail. The little fishing boat began to race smartly toward open sea.
From my post at the stern, I watched the Island Kingdom drop behind us, splendid and imposing, its rooftops glinting in the first light. To see it so tranquil, one would hardly believe that within its walls disorder reigned, and supernatural beings stalked.
I was not an expert sailor by any means. But like all Atlanteans, I had enjoyed recreational boating as part of my upbringing. I managed to tack us quite far out, until we reached a spot where I deemed it safe to drop sail and anchor.
As soon as the lead ball plopped overside, I relaxed, hoping to catch a few winks. Unless my navigation erred, we lay far enough offshore so that we would be a mere blur to any watchers on the wall. I hoped we would be taken for fishermen trying different waters. Thus I also hoped to avoid the regular fishing fleet. When night descended, we would return to the beach and attempt to regain my villa.
I settled down to a sort of doze, but there was no real rest in it. My mind was haunted by spectral visions of the blue beings and their strange craft.
How had the apparition struck the ordinary, garden-variety Atlantean? Surely the craft's descent had been visible to any who were abroad.
Unless I missed my guess, the spectral sight would foment more fear and rumor. The citizens might well recall Babylos' warnings—and hold the corrupted government responsible for the bad omens.
I could not help a certain sly amusement. Geriasticus X, his debauched queen, and the entire grasping, pleasure-mad court had been guilty of so many crimes against the public good—both sins of commission and omission—that it was only a kind of ironic justice that they be held accountable for the heavenly visitations.
My dozing dreams did not improve. I saw Babylos gleefully proclaiming that damnation had arrived. I glimpsed Aphrodisia behind bars, alternately weeping and demanding instantaneous marriage.
But evidently I did fall into full slumber for a time, waking abruptly with the sun beating in my eyes.
The sky had cleared at last. The ocean sparkled. I heard a noisy splashing.
Sitting up, I spied Conax leaning over the gunwale. He gasped and cursed while his thews quivered briskly.
All at once, he brought his right hand out of the water. It contained a large, wriggling fish of particularly oily appearance.
"Here," I yawned, "what are you doing?"
"Why, catching breakfast, naturally. My belly's as hollow as the cavernous caves of the noxious netherworld."
So saying, he sniffed the poor fish. One would have thought he inhaled perfumes from the East!
"Kindly throw that thing back in the water, Conax, or you shall lose your sailing master due to acute nausea."
"No stomach for a little raw fish? Why, many's the time I've chomped into an uncooked meal. There was the occasion when my cavalry and I caught some yak thieves, several of whom proved to be very tasty when—"
"Spare me!" I begged, gorge rising. "I have no palate for gourmet items."
"But surely you're hungry too! It's simple work to halve the fish—"
Again he held the sad looking specimen near his face. With a few gnashes of his teeth, he indicated how he proposed to divide it.
"Speak up, Hoptor! Do you want the head or tail?"
"N-n-neither," I replied, positioning my head over the rail and permitting nature to take its course.
I cannot offer a definitive statement as to whether he breakfasted on the fish. I was completely occupied elsewhere, thank the gods.
When I came upright again, he immediately commenced a rambling discourse on the effete ways of civilization, interspersed with laments for his lost broadsword, reiterations of his desire to return to his homeland, and promises that we Atlanteans would see how real men behaved, as soon as his reavers appeared to burn, loot, rape, torture, and murder. I perceived that unless I occupied myself, I would go mad listening to his monologue.
Therefore I restepped the mast, and proceeded to tack us further out to sea.
By this time, the Atlantean fisher-fleet had put out for the day. But only a fraction of the customary number of sails dotted the waves. Had further disorders disrupted the day's routine within the walls? We had no difficulty avoiding those few vessels which did sail out.
All day long we tacked up and down, up and down. By the time the sun's burning ball began to drop to the horizon, I had developed a sun-scald of painful proportions. All exposed parts of my body—but especially my cheeks and neck—stung unmercifully. I could barely move without groaning.
Conax was still rambling on. Now it was something about disemboweling a warlock; evidently the fellow had taken a dislike to Conax's manners, and attempted to turn him into a shrub. Bleary with fatigue, hunger, and sunburn, I paid little attention.
"What's that you're mumbling?" Conax said. His eyes flashed in the glare of sunset. "Some snide comment about my tale?"
"I merely said that, within an hour, it will be dark. We can safely try beaching then."
"I am going to buy a new broadsword at the very first armor shop we encounter. By Crok, I intend to make someone pay for this humiliation. That a king of Chimeria should be forced to ride around all day in an open boat, without a single slave to work a fan—!"
As he continued his complaining, I stepped the mast for what I hoped would be the last time.
All the fisher-craft had returned to shore. The sunward side of fair Atlantis was bathed in the day's last red. I tugged on the anchor rope, hauled up the ball—fortunately my palms had escaped the blistering rays!—and through near superhuman effort, got us started on a homeward course.
I was more irritable than ever, I don't mind confessing. I would be glad to be shed of the carping Chimerian, and have in his place more common folk, whom I could persuade to labor on my behalf!
The breeze promptly caught our sail, and started us back toward fair Atlantis, where the lamps of evening already gleamed.
We were clipping along through moderately heavy waves when suddenly, beneath the swells to port, twin spots of radiance appeared. I called Conax's attention to the double glow—eerie white, like a pair of huge eyes.
"Crok protect us, we're about to be attacked by a creature of the depths!"
So saying, he tore the mast from its socket!
The sail began to flap, the lines to fly and, abruptly robbed of its motive means, our tiny boat began to pitch wildly.
"Put back the sail, Conax! Do you want to capsize us?"
"I must have a weapon!" he insisted, gripping the mast at its midpoint while attempting to balance himself on widespread legs. I gripped the gunwale to prevent being hurled into the brine.
The twin radiances grew steadily brighter. They were very near the surface now. In another moment, the sea monster appeared!
Foam poured off the spine-like upper fin. Water cascaded down between glowing exterior lanterns. I beheld a craft exactly like the one which had descended to Queen Voluptua's terrace!
Although transfixed with terror, I yet marveled at a machinery which could traverse air and water with equal facility.
Approximately a third of the craft became visible above the waves. As before, the patterned, metallic hull glowed. The craft moved neither forward nor backward, and I had the uncanny feeling that we were somehow being observed.
"Be very still, Conax," I whispered. "Perhaps the thing will go away."
"Are you making sport of me, Vintner? This is the same sea-dragon that appeared when my war vessel went down. I'll not miss a second chance to wreak vengeance."
And he threw back his head and began to utter his ululating battle-cry!
"No noise, Conax, for pity's sake! We've trouble enough alrea—yow!"
His teeth closed smartly upon the hand with which I was trying to shut his mouth. A sudden tilt of the boat dumped me between the benches.
Conax, meantime, was merely warming up.
"Come out of that metal barrel and fight, you pusilanimous puppies of perdition! Come out, come out, I say! This is Conax the Chimerical challenging you!"
Silence greeted his shout; a scarifying stillness broken only by the murmur of wind and the lap of waves.
"What's the matter, you dogs? Why don't you answer me? I'll gain your attention some way! I mean to put you down, or make my death-stand doing it!"
"Oh, Conax, not your death-stand again—"
Would he heed? He would not. He raised the mast over his head. His thews rippled and twitched rapidly. He crouched down, then shot up by straightening his legs.
Propelled by the thrust, the mast sailed across the water.
It struck the craft with a clang.
"Well, you've really done it now, Conax! Jump in the water and make your death-stand by yourself. I'm heading for Atlantis!"
Alas, I was too upset to carry out my promise efficiently. I dropped one oar into the water, and failed to set the second in place even after repeated tries.
The shining craft's upper spine, hinged at one side, fell over with a bang. A round portal was revealed; a different opening than the one from which the incline had descended on Voluptua's terrace.
At last I positioned my one oar. I began rowing furiously, only to realize that my
effort turned us in a circle. Without warning, a blue being popped its head up through the hatch.
"We're discovered!" I cried, pulling madly on the oar. Such was my frantic state that I cared nothing for our drift or direction. I only wished to row as fast as possible.
My misplaced energy merely directed our little boat toward, not away from, the metallic craft. Disregarding Conax's boastful bellows, the blue being climbed out the hatch and stood on the hull. It was joined by a second blue personage, this one carrying what appeared to be a gold bell.
The blue being held the bell device upside-down. However, the bell did not ring. Instead, the blue one thrust its hand down into the bell opening. Whereupon, miraculous things took place.
Conax the Chimerical stiffened. His hands flew to his sides and remained there. From the wild antics of his thews, it was plain that he was gripped by some phantasmagorical force!
The first blue personage—what else might I call them? each bore two arms, a head, and two feet, unless more were concealed beneath their opulent robes—signed to the second, who performed additional manipulations within the depths of the bell device.
Without aid or support. Conax rose straight into the heavens, the distance of twice a man's height!
There he hovered, while his clenched teeth reflected the rays of the dying sun. I fell on my knees to importune the gods—this, surely, was my final moment!
Suddenly Conax sailed straight forward, wind blowing his hair helter-skelter. The blue beings stood away from the hatch as the barbarian came to a halt above it, suspended without wires or other visible apparatus!
Then he began to descend slowly, disappearing boots first through the opening.
"Greetings to you—and good-bye!" I called, falling on the oar again. I could not tell whether they understood me, but what had I to lose at the moment? "Your prisoner is a king of Chimeria, and he'll certainly fetch a fat ransom. I'm sure you're not interested in me, as I am but a lowly grower of grapes—"
Then—o dreadful fate!—the second blue being repeated its manipulations within the bell. A tingling paralysis took possession of my body.
The oar dropped from my frozen hands. And I, like Conax, rose into the air!