by Anthology
The royal house of each state was hereditary, but governed jointly with a state assembly elected by the vote of each ten thousand unit of population, each unit selecting a state delegate to the assembly. The imperial throne was filled by the choice of the states.
Agriculture was highly held and greatly specialized. Metal working was a very advanced science, as he had already guessed. Copper was abundant, and the Tamarizians held the secret of tempering the metal, now unknown on Earth. Of it they made their weapons and most of their public structural metal, including their carriages and chariots and all conveyances of a finer sort. Gold was plentiful, but silver and lead were rare, and held in high esteem.
They had reached a high plane in art, sculpture, and weaving. Their golden cloth was gold spun into threads and mixed with a vegetable fiber to form warp and woof. They had an efficient medical caste, and a nursing caste, the latter entirely female. Women were coequal to men in citizenship; they sat in the classrooms of the university, took part in ceremonials, and competed in games. Despite the royal form of rulership, Tamarizia was quite a democratic empire, and the emperor of Zitra held little more power than the president of a republic.
But it was not a military republic. Jadgor was right; the national army could not exceed fifty thousand men, and none too well armed or trained.
To the north of Tamarizia lay the empire of Zollaria, her western shore line that of the great outer ocean. East of Tamarizia and south of Zollaria, in the hinterland of the continent, dwelt the half-savage tribe of Mazzer, the blue men. Theirs was a region of semitropic forests and plains; they lived by hunting and exporting skins, dried meats, and cheeses. Commerce was by water and sarpelca caravans across the desert.
His week in school made Croft feel at home in Scira, where he came to know youths of the various classes, without being seen himself. To one of these, he gave particular attention—Jasor, a splendidly built young man, noble of temperament and physique. But at this point, Jasor stopped, and it seemed a pity that one otherwise so well endowed should be a dullard mentally. He followed Jasor about, and came to know that Jasor felt his position acutely, and was brooding over his own mental capacity to an unwise degree.
Throughout his stay in Cathur, however, Croft did not lose sight of his main object in coming to the northern state. Kyphallos was not in Scira when Croft came to the capital of Cathur. Jason managed to see Scythys the king, a senile husk of a once massive man, with a look of vague trouble in his half-blinded cataract-filmed eyes. But of Kyphallos the son there was no sign.
Only by chance remarks was Croft able to learn the whereabouts of the prince. By such means he finally learned of a second palace maintained on an island in the Central Sea, off the coast of Cathur, not far from the border of the former Tamarizian state of Mazhur. The island was known as Anthra, was a part of the state of Cathur, and a favorite retreat with the crown prince.
To Anthra on the second night Croft went. And on Anthra he came upon a saturnalia of pleasure. A feast was in progress in the palace. Here Croft found the man he sought, reclining on a padded divan, his too full red lips slightly parted in a bibulous smile, his long hair curled and anointed and perfumed till he reeked of aromatic scents; his well-formed hands loaded with rings, his body clad in a crimson garment, embroidered in gold.
Beside him, lying outstretched like some splendid creature of the jungle, was a woman; tawny as a lioness in the tint of her hair and in every sensuous line of her body.
Her sandalless feet were stained on the soles with crimson. Anklets gripped her lower limbs, and tinkled tiny golden bells as she moved. Bracelets banded her graceful naked arms. Gem-incrusted cups, fastened by jeweled bands, covered her breasts. A bit of gold gauze, studded with bright red stones, accentuated rather than veiled the rest of her perfect figure. She lay there close to Kyphallos and after a bit she lifted a golden goblet and pressed it to his lips and laughed.
Beyond her was a man, Croft marked at a glance. He was heavy, gross, yet gave an impression of mighty strength. And he, too, was tawny haired.
And on the other side of Kyphallos was a figure to give Croft pause. A blue warrior sat there; but surely no member of the serving class, Jason thought. This man was never made to serve. His were the features of one who commands.
As the woman laughed Kyphallos spoke. "Your laughter is music better than any I can offer, my Kalamita. Your graciousness in coming to this farewell feast, ere I sail for Aphur, burdens me with debt. Yet were I loath to have sailed without a final sight of you—And I have provided such entertainment as I might."
"As you do always, Prince of Aphur," she responded. "Is it not true, Bandhor, my brother, that we are honored to be present when Cathur desires?"
"Aye. Wine, food, music, and women. What more can a man desire?" the massive individual at whom she smiled over her rounded shoulder replied. "When Cathur returns, he must come to our house at Niera as he has done before. There are others of Zollaria I desire him to meet, as well as other men of Mazzer, besides the noble Bzad, whom we made bold to bring with us tonight."
As he finished the blue man smiled, and Kyphallos picking up his own goblet of wine passed it to the Mazerian with a languid grace. "Thy friends are my friends, O Bandhor of Zollaria!" he exclaimed, and bending close to the face of the girl said, "Shall I come when I return from Aphur?"
"Aye, my Kyphallos, unless you desire me to suffer, come when you return."
Kyphallos took back the cup from which Bzad, the Mazzerian, had drunk and drained it at a gulp. "I shall come," he shouted and clapped his hands. "Let the entertainment begin!"
After that Croft could only watch and marvel at what he beheld. A sound of harps burst forth. Golden and scarlet curtains drew apart at one end of the immense court. He caught a glimpse of moving figures behind them, and then—fifty dancing girls broke forth.
Swaying, posturing, gesturing they moved down the hall toward the tables. At first they were clothed. But as they advanced they dropped veil after veil from their posturing bodies, until they gleamed white and pink swinging figures, caught in the eddies of the dance. Closer and closer they came. They reached the tables themselves. They sprang upon them. They danced among the remnants of the feast. They hands of the guests—other companions of Cathur's prince, reached toward them—sought to capture them.
Croft turned away. He had seen enough.
The days that followed were agony, as he wandered about Palos, now seeing Naia, now Kyphallos' preparations for the trip to Aphur, in all his decadent magnificence. He studied young Jasor, and noted that the youth, fully aware of his shortcomings, was sinking rapidly into a state of melancholy. He saw Kyphallos' arrival in Aphur and the secret interview with Jadgor, the proposal that the houses of Aphur and Cathor be united through a marriage to "the fairest flower in Aphur's garden of women," as Jadgor put it.
But worst of all was the subtle implication that, through this alliance, Kyphallos could mount the throne of Tamarizia. As sick to the soul as the thought of Naia sacrificed to this princeling made him, the thought of Kyphallos as supreme ruler made Croft sicker.
He could not bear to watch the reception at which Naia would be presented to Kyphallos, yet he knew he must, and he forced his will to carry him to Lakkon's palace, near the massive doors. There he remained until a clatter of hoofs marked the first arriving guests.
They came in a stream thereafter, nobles of Aphur and their daughters and wives; captains of the civic guard, and finally, with a blare of trumpets from riders mounted on gnuppas, Jadgor himself and Kyphallos in a golden coach drawn by eight gnuppas harnessed four abreast.
And still Naia had not appeared. But as the King of Aphur and the Prince of Cathur moved down the crystal pave from the doors toward the tables in the center of the court, she came slowly down the stairs, a thing of purple and gold. The gown she had described that first day wrapped her supple form like a second skin, from right shoulder to hip, and fell from there to the knees. It was a shimmering thing embro
idered in purple stones.
Halfway down the stairs she stood and inclined her head, while Jadgor and Kyphallos paused. Then as the men advanced she began again to descend, until near the head of the tables she sank on her left knee and bowed.
Jadgor's own hand helped her to rise. Jadgor made Kyphallos known. Prince and princess touched hands. Lakkon led toward the feast.
At the head sat Jadgor and Kyphallos side by side. Lakkon reclined beside the king. Naia's place was on the Prince of Cathur's left. Blue servants in Lakkon's livery placed the other guests and began their service at once.
For an hour the feast went on. Croft noted Kyphallos more closely than the rest. He had seen the swift lighting of his eyes when Naia appeared on the stairs. Now, as he lay on the divan, he found him watching her with what seemed a stead interest, plying her with gallant conversation, finding excuse to touch her hands, staring into her long-lashed purple eyes.
Kyphallos drank deep and his eyes began to sparkle as time passed with new toasts proposed and drunk about the board. It came to Croft that Cathur's prince was losing his head at a time when he had better have kept it, as his voice became more and more loud.
The harps struck up a different measure toward the last. Golden curtains parted under the balcony, near the stairs. A band of dancing girls trooped in. They were things of beauty, laughing-faced, their soft hair flowing, clad in what seemed no more than garlands of flowers twined about their slender bodies and halfway down their limbs. Beginning to dance, they advanced and as they danced they sang. The scene became one of rhythmic beauty, delightful to the senses. Each girl bore a parti-colored veil of gauze and waved it as she moved. Massed inside the rectangle of the tables on the crystal floor, they seemed to be a very dancing, nodding bed of flowers.
Then it was done. The dancers were drawing back with graceful genuflections, as applause broke forth from the guests. Lakkon tossed a handful of silver pieces among them. Jadgor cast a double handful of jewels into the scarf of a maid who advanced at his sign.
"Divide them among you," he said.
The girl sank to the floor, and rose.
"Hold!" cried Cathur's prince. He lifted himself and struck the table. "Up!" he commanded thickly "Up, beauteous maid."
With a glance at Jadgor, who made no sign whatever, the dancing girl obeyed. She stood on the table before Kyphallos.
"Unveil!" he said.
Again the woman glanced at Aphur's king. But Jadgor did not draw back from the situation "Unveil!" he added his command.
The girl lifted he hands. Her garlands fell away. She stood a lithely rounded form, her feet lost in the mass of blossoms she had worn.
Kyphallos laughed. His eyes were blazing. He caught up a goblet of wine and rose. "Hail Adita, goddess of womanly beauty," he exclaimed. "Arise, my friends, and drink with me to woman as she is, this new Adita I have found!"
They rose at Jadgor's sign, though Croft caught more than one glance of question passing among the guests.
So much he saw and turned back to Naia, who had risen, too, her face a mask of outraged dignity and scorn.
Kyphallos lifted his goblet and set it to his lips.
Naia lifted hers and cast it from her so that its contents spilled and flowed across the table at the dancer's feet.
"Thou beast! 'Tis thus I drink your toast!"
Silence came down—a breathless pause about the tables. Kyphallos lowered his cup and turned toward the Princess of Aphur slowly.
And suddenly the Cathurian smiled. He replaced his goblet on the table and sank to one knee before the haughty daughter of his host. "By Zitu!" his voice rang out, "but you are truly royal. You are magnificent, daughter of Aphur. Did I pick me a lesser toy, 'twas but that I knew you for what you are—one fit to be a queen. Naia of Aphur, wilt pledge yourself queen of Aphur's throne?"
The words were out. Croft felt his senses sink. On Jadgor's face was a satisfaction unvoiced. He rose and lifted his hands. "My lords an ladies," he announced, "I call you to witness that Cathur asks the hand of Aphur's princess. Let Naia choose."
Kyphallos drew himself up and folded his arms. To Croft it seemed the man was sobered by Jadgor's words. Yet as cries of assent and acclamation rang out though the court, he remained silent before the tense figure of the girl.
And slowly the golden head beneath the curling plume of purple bowed. One bared arm rose and extended its fingers toward the northern prince. "Aphur accepts." Her words came scarcely above a whisper and were drowned in a greeting roar of voices upraised by the waiting guests.
Cathur caught the extended hand and turned to the forward straining faces, the watching eyes.
"A happy consummation to our feast," rang the words of Aphur's king. "Men and women of Aphur, this shall be arranged. I, Jadgor, myself shall sponsor the formal betrothal on a day one twelfth of a cycle hence."
The thing was done. A month from tonight would see it ratified. A sick impotency filled Croft's soul. He left the scented atmosphere of Lakkon's palace court and rose up toward the heavens, studded with stars.
To Earth! Palos and all it held sank swiftly away beneath him. He opened the eyes of the form he left on his library couch.
Chapter V
Nothing had been disturbed. Everything was as he had last seen it, save that a layer of dust had collected, thanks to the absence of Mrs. Goss, and that due to the difference of the length of the Palosian day. Nine terrestrial days had passed since Croft had lain his body on the couch.
Rising slowly, he ignited the flame of a small alcohol-lamp and quickly brewed himself a cup of strong beef-extract, which he drank. Seating himself in a chair, he gave himself over to a consideration of the thought he had brought with him from Palos.
Briefly, Croft had conceived of a way to acquire a physical life on Palos. It was that that had sent him back here to his study and his books. He rose and drew a volume from a case and brought it back to the desk. It was a work dealing with obsessions—that theory of the occultist that a stronger spirit might displace the weaker tenant of an Earthly shell, and occupy and dominate the body it had possessed.
He read over the written page and his thoughts were of Jasor as he sat there wrapped in thought. The young Nodhurian was dying, unless Croft's medical knowledge was all at fault. Yet he was dying not from disease in the physical sense. His body was organically healthy. It was his soul which was sick unto death. And—here was the wonderful question: Could Croft's strong spirit enter Jasor's body as Jasor laid it aside and, operating on the still inherent and reasonably sound cell-energy still contained within it, possess it for its own?
He realized fully that he must remain on Earth for a day or two to provide his present body against another period of trance. Croft sent for Mrs. Goss, telegraphing her shortly after it was light. He spent the day waiting her arrival in feeding his body with concentrated foods. He met her when she came, and for a week life went on in the Croft house as it had gone on before. Then Croft summoned the little woman and made her understand dimly he was doing something never attempted before, which, if it succeeded, would make him very happy. He explained that he was about to take a long sleep—that it would last for three, and possibly four days. He forbade her to disturb his body during that time, or to touch it for a week. Then, if he was not returned and in his sane mind, she might know that he was dead.
With quivering lips and wide eyes and apron-plucking hands, she promised to obey. Croft sensed her anxiety for himself, and tried to be very gentle as he saw her from the room.
But with the door closed behind her, he moved quickly to the couch and stretched himself out. He smiled and fastened his mind on the object of this present attempt. And suddenly his eyelids closed and his body relaxed. Once more time and space suffered annihilation, and he knew himself in Jasor's room.
It was full. The nurse was there, and the physician. And there was another—a young man with a strong, composed face, clad in a tunic of unembroidered brown, whom Croft recognized as a prie
st. A quiver of emotion shook Croft's spirit. He had returned to Palos none too soon.
The priest drew back. The doctor approached the bed. He lifted the wrist of Jasor and set his fingers to the pulse. In a moment he laid it down, and bowed his head. And as he did so, Jasor sighed once deeply like one very tired.
"He passes," the physician said.
Priest, nurse, and physician all saw it. But Croft saw more than they. He saw the astral form, the soul-body of Jasor, rise from the discarded clay. And swiftly casting aside all other considerations, he willed his own consciousness into the vacant brain.
Thereafter followed an experience, the most terrible he had ever known. He was within Jasor's body, yet he was chained. For what seemed hours he fought to control the physical elements of the fleshy form he had seized. Croft describes his own sensations as those of one who presses against and seeks to move an immovable weight.
He suffered—suffered until the very suffering broke down the bonds in a demand for some outward expression. Then, and only then he knew that the chest of the body had once more moved, and that he had drawn air into the lungs. Encouraged, he exerted his staggering will afresh, and—he knew he was looking into the faces above him—through Jasor's physical eyes!
"He lives!"
With Jasor's ears he heard the physician exclaim, "This passes understanding, man of Zitu. He was dead, yet now he lives again!"
"The ways of Zitu oft pass the understanding, man of healing," said the priest, advancing to the bed. "What is man to understand the things that Zitu plans?"
Croft thrilled. Coordination between his conscious spirit and the body of the man of Palos was established. The thought brought a sense of absolute satisfaction; he closed the lids above Jasor's eyes, and slept.
For several hours he lay in restful slumber, then awoke refreshed. His deductions had been correct. Jasor's body was healthy, aside from the weakening influences of his spirit. Given a strong spirit to dominate it now, and it responded in full tide.