Thorne stopped, and instinctively his hand went to his sword hilt.
The other halted, also, at a distance of about ten paces, and swept off his mask. His face was smooth shaven and his hair and eyebrows were white.
"I have the honor of being the first man to welcome you to Mars. Harry Thorne," he said in English, and smilingly added: "I am Lal Vak."
Thorne returned his smile. "Thank you, Lal Vak. You speak excellent English."
"I learned your language from Dr. Morgan, just as he learned mine from me. Aural impressions are as readily transmitted by telepathy as visual impressions, you know."
"So the doctor informed me," said Thorne. "But where do we go from here? I'm beginning to feel uncomfortable in this sun."
"I've been inexcusably thoughtless," apologized Lal Vak. "Here, let me show you how to adjust your headcloak." Reaching up to Thorne's turbanlike headpiece, he loosened a strap. The silky material instantly fell down about the Earthman, reaching to his knees. A flexible, transparent mask also unrolled, and Lal Vak showed him how to draw it across his face.
"This material," he said, "is made from the skin of a large moth. The people of Xancibar, the nation of which you are now a citizen, use these cloaks much for summer wear, particularly when traveling in the desert. They keep out the sun's rays by day, and keep in considerable warmth at night. As you will learn, even our summer nights are quite cold. The mask is made from the same material, bt is treated with oil and has the nap scraped off to make it transparent."
"I feel better already," said Thorne. "Now what?"
"Now we will get our mounts, and fly back to the military training school, which you, as Borgen Takkor, must continue to attend. At the school I am an instructor in tactics."
As they approached the small clump of trees which Thorne had previously noticed, he saw that they surrounded a small pool of water. Splashing about in this pool were two immense winged creatures, and Thorne noted with astonishment that they were covered with brown fur instead of feathers. They had long, sturdy legs, covered with yellow scales. Their wings were membranous, and their bills were flat, much like those of ducks, except that they had sharp, down-curved hooks at the end. And when one opened its mouth, Thorne saw that it was furnished with sharp, triangular teeth, tilted backward. These immense beast-birds, whose backs were about seven feet above the ground, and whose heads reached to a height of about twelve feet, were saddled with seats of gray metal.
The tips of each creature's wings were perforated, and tethered to the saddle by means of snap-hooks and short chains, evidently to prevent their taking to the air without their riders.
Lal Vak made a peculiar sound, a low quavering call. Instantly both of the grotesque mounts answered with hoarse honking sounds and came floundering up out of the water toward them. One of them, on coming up to Thorne, arched its neck then lowered its head and nuzzled him violently with its broad bill.
"Scratch his head," said Lal Vak, with an amused smile. "Borgen made quite a pet of him, and you are now Borgen Takkor to him."
After a second prod from the huge beak, Thorne hastily scratched the creature's head, whereupon it held still, blinking contentedly, and making little guttural noises in its throat. He noticed that there was a light strand of twisted leather around its neck, fastened to the end of a flexible rod, which in turn was fastened to the ringshaped pommel of the saddle.
"Is that the steering gear?"
"You have guessed right, my friend," replied Lal Vak. "Pull up on the rod, and the gawr will fly upward. Push down and he will descend. A pull to the right or left and he will fly, walk or swim in the direction indicated according to whether he is in the air, on the ground, or in the water. Pull straight backward, and he will stop or hover."
"Sounds easy."
"It is quite simple. But before we go, let me warn you to speak to no one, whether you are spoken to or not. Salute those who greet you, thus." He raised his left hand to the level of his forehead, with the palm backward. "I must get you to your room as quickly as possible. There you will feign illness, and I will teach you our language before you venture out."
"But how can I remember all the friends and acquaintances of Borg--Borgen Takkor. What a name! Suppose something should come up..."
"I've provided against all that. Your illness will be blamed for your temporary loss of memory. This will give you time to find out things, and the right to ask questions rather than answer them. But, come, it grows late. Watch me carefully, and do as I do."
Lal Vak tugged at a folded wing, and his mount knelt. Then he climbed into the saddle and unfastened the snap-hooks which tethered the wings, hooking them through two rings in his own belt. Thorne imitated his every movement, and was soon in the saddle.
"Now," said Lal Vak, "slap your gawr on the neck and pull up on the rod. He’ll do the rest."
Thorne did as directed, and his mount responded with alacrity. It ran swiftly forward for about fifty feet, then with a tremendous flapping of its huge, membranous wings, it took off, lurching violently at first, so that the Earthman was compelled to seize the saddle pommel in order to keep from falling off.
After he had reached a height of about two thousand feet, Lal Vak relaxed the lift on his guiding rod and settled down to a straightaway flight. Thorne kept close behind him.
When they had flown for what Thorne judged was a distance of about twenty-five miles, he noticed ahead of them a number of cylindrical buildings of various sizes, with perfectly flat roofs, built around a small lake, or lagoon. The oasis on which it was situated had a man-made look, as both it and the lagoon it encircled were perfectly square. The cylindrical buildings and the high wall surrounding the square enclosure shone in the sunlight like burnished metal.
Rising from and descending to the shores of the lagoon were a number of riders mounted on gawrs. And as they drew near, there flew up from the inclosure a mighty airship.
No passengers were visible, but a number of small round windows in the sides of the body indicated their positions.
Lai Vale's mount now circled and then volplaned straight toward the margin of the lagoon. Thorne's gawr followed. As it alighted with a scarcely perceptible jar, an attendant came running up, saluted Thorne by raising his hand, palm-inward, to the level of his forehead, and took charge of his mount, making it kneel by tugging at one wing.
Thorne returned the salute and seeing that Lal Vak had dismounted, followed his example. As he stood on his feet a sudden dizziness assailed him. He braced himself to walk away with Lal Vak as if there were nothing the matter.
The scientist led him toward one of the smaller buildings, which Thorne now saw were made of blocks of a translucent material like clouded amber, cemented together with some transparent product.
As they were about to enter the circular door of the building, two men came hurrying out, and one lunged heavily against Thorne. Harry suppressed a groan with difficulty, for the fellow's elbow had come in violent contact with his wound.
Instantly the man who had jostled him, a huge fellow with a flat nose, beetling brows and a prognathous jaw, turned and spoke rapidly to him, his hand on his sword hilt.
Lal Vak whispered in Thorne's ear. "This is regrettable. The fellow claims you purposely jostled him, and challenges you to a duel. You must fight, or be forever branded a coward."
"Must I fight him here and now?”
“Here and now. Doctor Morgan told me you were a good swordsman. That is fortunate, for this fellow is a notorious killer."
Both men drew their swords simultaneously. Thorne endeavored to raise his blade to engage that of his adversary, but found he was without strength. His sword dropped from nerveless fingers and clattered to the pavement.
A sardonic grin came to the face of his opponent. Then he contemptuously raised his weapon and slashed the Earthman's cheek with the keen, saw-edged blade.
For an instant Thorne felt that searing pain. Then he pitched forward on his face and all went black.
/> CHAPTER 3
Thorne woke to a weirdly beautiful sight. Two full moons were shining down on him from a black sky in which the stars sparkled like brilliant jewels. He was lying on a bed which was suspended by four chains on a single large flexible cable which depended from the ceiling, and had his view of the sky through a large circular window.
He turned on his side, the better to look around him, and as he did so, saw Lal Vak seated on a legless chair suspended, like his bed, on a single cable which was fastened to the ceiling.
"Hello, Lal Vak," he said. "What happened?"
"I regret to inform you that you are in disgrace. If you had told me, before the duel, that you were weak from loss of blood, I could have delayed the meeting. It was only after I had brought you here that I discovered your wound, and by that time the news had gone about that you were afraid--that you had dropped your sword when faced by Sel Han."
"Sel Han! Why, that's the man Doctor Morgan wanted me to kill!"
"The same. On Earth he was Frank Boyd, a robber of mines and a jumper of claims, so the doctor informed me."
"I'll challenge Sel Han as soon as I'm up and around again. That ought to square everything, and if I win, why, the first part of my mission will have been accomplished."
"Unfortunately," replied the scientist, "that will be impossible. According to our Martian code, it would be unethical for you, under any circumstances, to provoke another duel with Sel Han. He, on the other hand, may insult or humiliate you all he likes, so long as he uses no physical violence, and does not have to stand challenge from you, for he is technically the victor."
"Then what am I to do?"
"That will rest with Sheb Takkor. As Borgen Takkor, you are, of course, son of Sheb, the Rad of Takkor. If he were to die, your name would become Sheb. As it is, you are the Zorad of Takkor. Zorad, in your language, might be translated viscount, and Rad, earl. The titles, of course, no longer have meaning, except that they denote noble blood, as the Swarm has changed all that."
"The Swarm?"
Lal Vak nodded.
"I can think of no other English equivalent for our word Kamud. The Kamud is the new order of government which took control of Xancibar about ten Martian years, or nearly nineteen Earth years ago. At that time, like other Martian vilets, or empires, of the present day, we had a Vil, or emperor. Although his office was hereditary, he could be deposed at any time by the will of the people, and a new Vil elected.
"For the most part, our people were satisfied. But there suddenly rose into power a man named Irintz Tel. He taught that an ideal community could be attained by imitating the communal life of the black bees. Under his system the individuals exist for the benefit of the community, not the community for the befit of the individuals.
"Irintz Tel did not gather many followers, but those who flocked to his banner were vociferous and vindictive. At length, they decided to establish their form of government by force. Hearing this, Miradon, our Vil, abdicated rather than see his people involved in a civil war. He could have crushed the upstart, of course, but many lives would have been lost, and he preferred the more peaceful way.
"As soon as Miradon Vil was gone, Irintz Tel and his henchmen seized the reins of government in Dukor, the capital of Xancibar. After considerable fighting, he established the Kamud, which now owns all land, buildings, waterways, mines and commercial enterprises within our borders. He promised us annual elections, but once he was firmly established as Dixtar of Xancibar, this promise was repudiated. Theoretically, like all other citizens, Irintz Tel owns nothing except his personal belongings. But actually, he owns and controls all of Xancibar in the name of the Kamud, and has the absolute power of life and death over every citizen."
"What do people think of this arrangement?" asked Thorne. "Do they submit to such tyranny?"
"They have no choice," replied Lal Vak. "Irintz Tel rules with an iron hand. His spies are everywhere. And those detected speaking against his regime are quickly done away with.
"Some are executed, charged with some trumped-up offense, usually treason to the Kamud. Men in high places are often challenged and slain by Irintz Tel's hired swordsmen. Others are sent to the mines, which means that they will not live long. I will leave you, now. You must sleep."
"My wounds--I had forgotten them." Thorne raised his hand to his face where the sword of Sel Han had slashed him. He felt no soreness, only a porous pumicelike protrusion traveling the length of the gash. The wound in his side was covered with a similar substance.
"I had them dressed as soon as you were brought here," said the scientist. "They should not pain you, now."
"They don't. And what a strange dressing."
"It is rjembal, a flexible aromatic gum which is antiseptic, protects the wound from infection, and is porous enough to absorb seepage. Wounds closed with this gum usually heal quickly, painlessly, and without leaving scars.
"I go now. Sleep well, and tomorrow I will come to give you your first lesson in our language."
* * *
Early the next morning Thorne was awakened. He saw the white-haired Lal Vak smiling down at him. Behind him stood an orderly, who carried a large bowl which he placed on a tripod beside the bed. The orderly saluted and withdrew.
The bowl was divided into sections like a scooped-out grapefruit. In one section reposed several slices of grilled food. In another was a whole raw fruit, purple in color, and cubical in shape. In the third was a hollow cube containing an aromatic pink beverage.
Thorne sampled one of the grilled slices. The flavor baffled him, as it did not appear to be either flesh or vegetable. Having finished the strange grilled food, he tasted the pink beverage. It was slightly bitter and about as acid as a ripe orange. A sip sent an instant glow through his veins. "What's this stuff?" he asked.
"Puho. A single cup is stimulating, but many are intoxicating."
Thorne finished the beverage, and Lal Vak instantly set about teaching him the things he must know in order to establish himself as Borgen Takkor.
Although Thorne's wounds healed in a few days, Lal Vak used them as a pretense to keep him in his room for about twenty. The Earthman learned the language quickly, for stored in the braincells of the Martian body which had become his were the recollections of all the sounds and their meanings.
One day an orderly came to announce that there was a man below calling himself Yirl Du, who asked to see Sheb Takkor.
"Let him come up," said Lal Vak. When the orderly had gone out he said to Thorne: "You heard what he said? He asked for Sheb Takkor."
"Yes. What does it mean?"
"It means that Sheb Takkor, father of Borgen Takkor, is dead. Hence, you are Sheb Takkor. This is one of the Takkor retainers who knows you, so call him by name when he appears before us."
A moment later, a short, stocky man entered the room. His features were coarse, but kindly. He raised one huge hand in salute, saying: "I shield my eyes, my lord Sheb, Rad of Takkor."
Thorne smiled and returned his salute. "Greetings, Yirl Du. This is my instructor, Lal Vak."
"I shield my eyes, excellency."
"You forget that under the Kamud all men are equal," said Lal Vak, returning his salute, "and one man no longer says to another: 'I shield my eyes,' 'my lord,' or 'excellency.' "
"I do not forget that I am hereditary Jen of the Takkor Free Swordsmen, nor that Sheb Takkor is my liege. From our isolated position, we of Takkor know little of the Kamud. We have submitted to it because our Rad, emulating Miradon Vil, saw fit to do so. So long as Takkor Rad rules us, though he is only the agent of the Kamud, we are content, and life goes on much as usual."
"You have come to escort your new Rad back to Takkor, I presume."
"That is my purpose, excellency."
"Then suppose you see about the gawrs while we make ready for the journey. I will accompany your Rad, and spend a few days with him."
"I go, excellency." Yirl Du saluted and withdrew.
"Strange," said Thorne, w
hen he had gone. "He said nothing about the death of Sheb Takkor, the elder."
"His words conveyed the tidings," said Lal Vak. "A dead man's friends or relatives must not speak of him nor of his death until his ashes have been ceremonially scattered."
"When will that take place?"
"Upon your arrival. As his son and successor, you should be present at the ceremony. When it is completed, you may talk as freely as you like."
While they were talking both men had belted on their weapons and adjusted their head-cloaks. They descended to the courtyard and crossed to the lagoon, where Yirl Du waited with three gawrs attended by orderlies.
Lal Vak edged close to him.cy.' &qtch Yirl Du and me, and set your course as we do," he whispered. "You will be supposed to lead but as you don't know the way you will have to depend on one or the other of us for guidance."
The Swordsman of Mars Page 2