Others beside himself had drunk deeply. The handsome, flushed young man who sat beyond Corbulo and whom Gordon had learned obliquely was Sath Shamar, ruler of the allied kingdom of Polaris, crashed his goblet down to punctuate a declaration.
"Let them come, the sooner the better!" he was exclaiming to Corbulo. "It's time Shorr Kan was taught a lesson."
Commander Corbulo looked at him sourly. "That's true, highness. Just how many first-line battleships will Polaris contribute to our fleet, if it comes to teaching him that lesson?"
Sath Shamar looked a little dashed. "Only a few hundred, I fear. But they'll make up for it in fighting ability."
Arn Abbas had been listening, for the emperor's rumbling voice sounded from his throne-like seat on Gordon's right.
"The men of Polaris will prove their fidelity to the Empire, no fear," declared Arn Abbas. "Aye, and those of Fomalhaut Kingdom, and of Cygnus and Lyra and our other allies."
Sath Shamar flushedly added, "Let the Hercules Barons but do their part and we've nothing to fear from the Cloud."
Gordon saw all eyes turn to two men further along the table. One was a cold-eyed oldster, the other a tall, rangy man of thirty. Both wore on their cloaks the flaring sun-cluster emblem of Hercules Cluster.
The oldster answered. "The Confederacy of the Barons will fulfill all its pledges. But we have made no formal pledge in this matter."
Arn Abbas' massive face darkened a little at that cool declaration. But Orth Bodmer, the thin-faced chief Councilor, spoke quickly and soothingly to the cold-eyed Baron.
"All men know the proud independence of the great Barons, Zu Rizal. And all know you'd never acquiesce in an evil tyranny's victory."
Arn Abbas, a few moments later, leaned to speak frowningly to Gordon.
"Shorr Kan has been tampering with the Barons! I'm going to find out tonight from Zu Rizal just where they stand."
Finally Arn Abbas arose, and the feasters all rose with him. The whole company began to stream out of the Hall of Stars into the adjoining halls.
Courtiers and nobles made way for Gordon and Lianna as they went through the throng. The girl smiled and spoke to many, her perfect composure bespeaking a long training in the regal manner.
Gordon nodded carelessly in answer to the congratulations and greetings. He knew he was probably making many blunders, but he didn't care by now. For the first time since leaving Earth, he felt perfectly carefree as that warm glow inside him deepened.
That saqua was a cursed good drink! Too bad he couldn't take some of it back with him to his own time. But nothing material could go across time. That was a shame-
He found himself with Lianna on the threshold of a great hall whose fairy-like green illumination came from the flaming comets that crept across its ceiling "sky." Hundreds were dancing here to dreamy, waltz-like music from an unseen source.
Gordon was astounded by the dream-like, floating movements of the immeasurably graceful dance. The dancers seemed to hover half-suspended in the air each step. Then he realized that the room was conditioned somehow by anti-gravity apparatus to reduce their weight.
Lianna looked up at him doubtfully, as he himself realized crestfallenly that he couldn't perform a step of these floating dances.
"Let's not dance," Lianna said, to his relief. "You're such a poor dancer as I remember it, that I'd rather go out in the gardens."
Of course-the retiring, studious real Zarth Arn would be that! Well, so much the better.
"I greatly prefer the gardens," Gordon laughed. "For believe it or not, I'm an even poorer dancer than I was before."
Lianna looked up at him perplexedly as they strolled down a lofty silver corridor. "You drank a great deal at the Feast. I never saw you touch saqua before."
Gordon shrugged. "The fact is that I never drank it before tonight."
He uttered a low exclamation when they emerged into the gardens. He had not expected such a scene of unreal beauty as this.
These were gardens of glowing light, of luminous color! Trees and shrubs bore masses of blossoms that glowed burning red, cool green, turquoise blue, and every shade between. The soft breeze that brought heavy perfume from them shook them gaily like a forest of shining flame-flowers, transcendently lovely.
Later, Gordon was to learn that these luminous flowers were cultivated on several highly radioactive worlds of the star Achernar, and were brought here and planted in beds of similarly radioactive soil. But now, suddenly coming on them, they were stunning.
Behind him, the massive terraces of the gigantic oblong palace shouldered the stars. Glowing lights flung boldly in step on climbing step against the sky! And the three clustered moons above poured down their mingled radiance to add a final unreal touch.
"Beautiful, beyond words," Gordon murmured, enthralled by the scene.
Lianna nodded. "Of all your world of Throon, I love these gardens the best. But there are wild, unpeopled worlds far in our Fomalhaut Kingdom that are even more lovely."
Her eyes kindled and for the first time he saw emotion conquer the regal composure of her lovely little face.
"Lonely, unpeopled worlds that are like planets of living color, drenched by the wonderful auroras of strange suns! I shall take you to see them when we visit Fomalhaut, Zarth."
She was looking up at him, her ash-gold hair shining like a crown in the soft light.
She expected him to make love to her, Gordon thought. He was-or at least, she thought he was-her fiancé, the man she had chosen to marry. He'd have to keep up his imposture, even now.
Gordon put his arm around her and bent to her lips. Lianna's slim body was pliant and warm inside the shimmering white gown, and her half-parted lips were dizzyingly sweet.
"I'm a cursed liar!" Gordon thought, dismayed. "I'm kissing her because I want to, not to keep up my role!"
He abruptly stepped back. Lianna looked up at him with sheer amazement on her face.
"Zarth, what made you do that?"
Gordon tried to laugh, though that thrillingly sweet contact still seemed trembling through his nerves.
"Is it so remarkable for me to kiss you?" he countered.
"Of course it is-you never did before!" Lianna exclaimed. "You know as well as I that our marriage is purely a political pretense!"
Truth crashed into Gordon's mind like a blast of icy cold, sweeping the fumes of saqua from his brain.
He had made an abysmal slip in his imposture! He should have guessed that Lianna didn't want to marry Zarth Arn any more than he wanted to marry her-that it was purely a political marriage and they but two pawns in the great game of galactic diplomacy.
He had to cover up this blunder as best he could, and quickly! The girl was looking up at him with that expression of utter mystification still on her face.
"I can't understand you doing this when you and I made agreement to be mere friends."
Gordon desperately voiced the only explanation possible, one perilously close to the truth.
"Lianna, you're so beautiful I couldn't help it. Is it so strange I should fall in love with you, despite our agreement?"
Lianna's face hardened and her voice had scorn in it. "You in love with me? You forget that I know all about Murn."
"Murn?" The name rang vaguely familiar in Gordon's ears. Jhal Arn had mentioned "Murn."
Once more Gordon felt himself baffled by his ignorance of vital facts. He was cold sober now, and badly worried.
"I-I guess maybe I just had too much saqua at the Feast, after all," he muttered.
Lianna's amazement and anger had faded, and she seemed to be studying him with a curiously intent interest.
He felt relief when they were interrupted by a gay throng streaming out into the gardens. In the hours that followed, the presence of others made Gordon's role a little easier to play.
He was conscious of Lianna's gray eyes often resting on him, with that wondering look. When the gathering broke up and he accompanied her to the door of her apartments, Gordon w
as uneasily aware of her curious, speculative gaze as he bade her good night.
He mopped his brow as he went on the gliding motowalk to his own chambers. What a night! He had had about as much as one man could bear!
Gordon found his rooms softly lit, but the blue servant was not in evidence. He tiredly opened the door of his bedroom. There was a quick rush of little bare feet. He froze at sight of the girl running toward him, one he had never seen before.
She seemed of almost childish youthfulness, with her dark hair falling to her bare shoulders and her soft, beautiful little face and dark-blue eyes shining with gladness. A child? It was no child's rounded figure that gleamed whitely through the filmy robe she wore!
Gordon stood, stupefied by this final staggering surprise in an evening of surprises, as the girl ran and threw soft bare arms around his neck.
"Zarth Arn!" she cried. "At last you've come! I've been waiting so long!"
7: Star-Princess
John Gordon for the second time that night held in his arms a girl who thought he was the real Zarth Arn. But the dark-haired, lovely young girl who had thrown her arms around him was far different from the proud Princess Lianna.
Warm lips pressed his own in eager passionate kisses, as he stood bewildered. The dark hair that brushed his face was soft and perfumed. For a moment, impulse made Gordon draw her lithe figure closer.
Then he pushed her back a little. The beautiful little face that looked up at him was soft and appealing.
"You never told me that you had come back to Throon!" she accused. "I didn't know until I saw you at the Feast!"
Gordon stumbled for an answer. "I didn't have time. I-"
This final surprise of the day had staggered him badly. Who was this lovely young girl? One with whom the real Zarth Arn had been conducting an intrigue?
She was smiling up at him fondly, her little hands still resting on his shoulders.
"It's all right, Zarth. I came up right after the Feast and I've been waiting for you."
She snuggled closer. "How long will you be staying on Throon? At least, we'll have these few nights together."
Gordon was appalled. He had thought his fantastic imposture difficult before. But this-!
A name suddenly bobbed into his thoughts, a name that both Jhal Arn and Lianna had mentioned as though he knew it well. The name of "Murn." Was it the name of this girl?
He thought it might be. To find out, he spoke to her diffidently.
"Murn-"
The girl raised her dark head from his shoulder to look at him inquiringly.
"Yes, Zarth?"
So this was Murn? It was this girl of whom Lianna had mockingly reminded him. So that Lianna knew of his intrigue?
Well, the name was something, anyway. Gordon was trying to grope his way through the complexities of the situation. He sat down, and Murn promptly nestled in his lap.
"Murn, listen-you shouldn't be here," he began huskily. "Suppose you were seen coming to my apartment?"
Murn looked at him with astonishment in her dark blue eyes. "What difference does that make, when I'm your wife?"
His wife? Gordon, for the twentieth time that day, was smitten breathless by the sudden, complete destruction of his pre-conceived ideas.
How in Heaven's name could he keep up the part of Zarth Arn when he didn't know the most elementary facts about the man? Why hadn't Zarth Arn or Vel Quen told him these things?
Then Gordon remembered. They hadn't told him because it wasn't supposed to be necessary. It had never been dreamed that Gordon, in Zarth Arn's body, would leave Earth and come to Throon. That raid of Shorr Kan's emissaries had upset all the plan, and had introduced these appalling complications.
Murn, her dark head snuggled under his chin, was continuing in a plaintive voice.
"Even though I'm only your morganatic wife, surely there's nothing wrong about my being here?"
So that was it! A morganatic, an unofficial, wife! That custom of old had survived to the days of these star-kings!
For a moment, John Gordon felt a hot anger against the man whose body he inhabited. Zarth Arn, secretly married to this child whom he could not acknowledge publicly and at the same time preparing for a state marriage with Lianna-it was a nasty business!
Or was it? Gordon's anger faded. The marriage with Lianna was purely a political device to assure the loyalty of the Fomalhaut Kingdom. Zarth had understood that, and so did Lianna. She knew all about Murn, and apparently had not resented. Under those circumstances, was Zarth Arn not justified in secretly finding happiness with this girl he loved?
Gordon suddenly woke again to the fact that Murn did not doubt for a moment that he was her loved husband-and that she had every idea of spending the night here with him!
He lifted her from his lap and rose to his feet, looking down at her uncertainly.
"Murn, listen, you must not spend tonight here," he told her. "You will have to avoid my apartment for these next few weeks."
Murn's lovely face became pale and stricken. "Zarth, what are you saying?"
Gordon racked his brain for an excuse. "Now don't cry, please. It isn't that I don't love you anymore."
Murn's dark blue eyes had filled with tears. "It's Lianna! You've fallen in love with her. I saw how you paid attention to her at the Feast!"
The pain in her white face made it seem more childlike than ever. Gordon cursed the necessities of the situation. He was deeply hurting this girl.
He took her face between his hands. "Murn, you must believe me when I tell you this. Zarth Arn loves you as much as ever-his feelings have not changed."
Murn's eyes searched his face, and the intense earnestness in it and in his voice seemed to convince her. The pain left her face.
"But if that's so, Zarth, then why-"
Gordon had thought of an excuse, by now. "It's because of the marriage with Lianna, but not because I love the princess," he said.
"You know, Murn, that the marriage is designed to assure the support of the Fomalhaut Kingdom in the coming struggle with the Cloud."
Murn nodded her dark head, her eyes still perplexed. "Yes, you explained that to me before. But I still don't see why it should come between us. You said it wouldn't, that you and Lianna had agreed to regard it as a mere form."
"Yes, but right now we must be careful," Gordon said quickly. "There are spies of Shorr Kan here at Throon. If they discovered I have a secret morganatic wife, they could publish the fact and wreck the marriage."
Murn's soft face became understanding. "Now I see. But Zarth, aren't we going to see each other at all?"
"Only in public, for a few weeks," Gordon told her. "Soon I shall leave Throon again for a little while. And I promise you that when I come back it will all be the same between us as before."
And that was truth, Gordon fervently hoped! For if he could get to Earth and effect the re-exchange of bodies, it would be the real Zarth Arn who would come back to Throon.
Murn seemed relieved in mind but still a little rueful, as she threw on a black silk cloak and prepared to leave.
She raised herself on tiptoe to press warm lips lovingly to his. "Good night, Zarth."
He returned the kiss, not with passion but with a queer tenderness. He could understand how Zarth Arn had fallen in love with this exquisite, childlike girl.
Murn's eyes became a little wider, faintly puzzled, as she looked up at him after that kiss.
"You are somehow different, Zarth," she murmured. "I don't know how-"
The subtle instinct of a woman in love had given her vague warning of the incredible change in him, Gordon knew. He drew a long breath of relief when she had gone.
Gordon stretched himself on the bed in the little sleeping-room, but found his muscles still tense as steel cords. Not until he had lain many minutes staring at the glowing moonlight that streamed into the dark room, did his nerves relax a little.
One paramount necessity cried aloud in Gordon's mind. He had to get out of this crazy i
mposture at the earliest possible moment! He couldn't much longer carry on his weird impersonation of one of the focal figures in the approaching crisis of the great star-kingdoms. Yet how? How was he to get back to Earth to re-exchange bodies with Zarth Arn?
Gordon awoke next morning to glimmering white dawn and found the blue Vegan servant standing beside his bed.
"The princess Lianna asks you to breakfast with her, highness," the servant informed.
Gordon felt quick surprise and worry. Why had Lianna sent this invitation? Could she suspect something? No, impossible. And yet-
He bathed in a little glass room where, he found by pushing buttons at hazard, he could cause soapy, salty or perfumed waters of any temperatures to swirl up neck-high around him.
The Vegan had a silken white suit and cloak ready for him. He dressed quickly, and then went through the palace to Lianna's apartments.
These were suites of fairy-like pastel-walled rooms beyond which one of the broad, flower-hung terraces looked out over Throon. Boyish in blue slacks and jacket, Lianna greeted him on the terrace.
"I have had breakfast laid here," she told him. "You are just in time to hear the sunrise music."
Gordon was astonished to detect a faint shyness in Lianna's gaze as she served him iced, red-pulped fruits and winy purple beverage. She did not now seem the regally proud princess of the night before.
And what was the sunrise music? He supposed that was another of the things he should know but didn't.
"Listen, it is beginning now!" Lianna said suddenly.
High around the city Throon loomed the crystal peaks of the Glass Mountains, lofty in the sunrise. Down from those glorious distant peaks now shivered pure, thrillingly sweet notes of sound.
Storms of music broke louder and louder from the glittering peaks! Wild, angelic arpeggios of crystalline notes rang out like all the bells of heaven. Tempests of tiny tinklings like pizzicati of fairy strings was background to the ringing chords.
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