by Anthology
He had sent no word of his coming, yet he felt assured that a welcome would be his. So at last he stopped before the steps leading up to the doors of the white Aphurian mansion, and sprang down. He mounted the steps and found once more the blue servant he had seen on another occasion, watching in awed expectancy just inside. To him he gave his title and asked for Naia herself.
The blue man bowed. "She lies yonder, Lord. I shall lead you to her."
Following the servant, Croft came about a cluster of flowering bushes to find the hostess he sought. She lay upon a wine-red wood divan, while beside her sat the blue girl Maia, her supple body swinging in easy rhythm as she waved a fan for the comfort of the woman she served.
By now, Croft was fully accustomed to the disregard of clothing displayed by the Tamarizian servants and even the nobles themselves in their more private life. Hence he was not disturbed by the fact that since she knew not of his coming, no more than a tissue so sheer that the flesh beneath it lent it color, draped Naia's perfect form as she rose, to stand before him and stretch forth her hands.
"My Lord, Jasor," she exclaimed. "Your coming is as unexpected as welcome. Would you feel flattered were I to confess that I was thinking of you before you appeared?"
"Nay, not flattered, but filled with a delight beyond words and a fear lest I deserve less than that!" Croft smiled, as he took her warm flesh in his hands.
Hupor, the great houndlike beast who had been lying beside the two women, rose, and lifting himself upon his massive haunches laid his forepaws on Croft's shoulders and stared into his face.
"Ah, Hupor gives you his favor, granted a few. Remove your cuirass and rest," Naia said resuming her seat and signing the Mazzerian to assist her guest. Then as he slipped out of the metal harness and stood in the soft shirt beneath it, she invited him to a place at her side and directed both servants to withdraw.
"You are come for the promised visit?" she began when they sat alone.
"If the time fits in with your convenience," Croft replied.
Naia looked down at her sandalless feet, high arched and pink of nail. "I will be frank," she went on. "I have been piqued because you delayed your coming." She glanced up with a little laugh. "You came in your car?"
"Yes."
"Tell me," she said, and laid a hand on his arm. "My father declares that Jadgor thinks you inspired of Zitu to make Tamarizia great. Tell me, about these moturs and your work."
Next to his love, these things were first in Croft's mind. For an hour he talked to the girl at his side. He painted for her a picture of Aphurian transportation transformed, of motors filling the highways, of motor-driven ships on river and sea, and swept on by his own conceptions spoke of motors as possible things of the air.
"Zitu!" she cried. "My lord would dare what none save the birds dare now?"
"Even so," said Croft. "So shall Aphur become strong enough to guard the western gate without another's aid."
He had made the remark of deliberate purpose, and now he heard the girl beside him catch her breath, and glancing toward her, found her eyes wide and very, very dark, with a strange light in their depths. "You—my Lord Jasor, you can do this thing?"
"And will," he declared.
"One who did that might ask what he would, and receive it of the State," she said slowly, and then once more her fingers touched his arm and he found them icy cold. "My lord, does Zitu answer prayers?"
Croft's mind leaped swiftly from her words to a night when he had heard her plea, lifted out of an anguished spirit—to the One Eternal Source. "What mean you?" he asked.
"If one—in sore trouble—one with a spirit which rebelled at a task to which it was set should cry for aid, would Zitu give heed?"
"Yes, Naia of Aphur, I think that indeed Zitu hears a troubled spirit's prayer. As for the form his answer may take—what man knows?"
Her lips parted. "Aye, who knows," she repeated. "How long a time shall it require to bring these things to pass?"
"They shall be Aphur's before a cycle has run out," said Croft.
"Zitu! Then—then Aphur shall be strong beyond Jadgor's dreams ere—ere so short a time is gone!"
Again Croft's heart pounded in his breast. Almost she had said ere—she was forced into hated wedlock with Kyphallos, he thought. He inclined his head.
"But why," Naia went on more calmly, "being of Nodhur, did you come with these plans to Aphur, my lord?"
"You have said it." Croft turned to face her fully.
"I?" She drew herself a trifle back as if in surprise.
"Yes. Because I am your lord." Croft did not hesitate now.
And suddenly he saw once more that strange, startled look of half recognition. "My lord?" Naia began and faltered and came to a pause.
"Aye—yours." Croft bent toward her. "Because I love you, Naia, Princess of Aphur. Because you are mine, and I yours, and have been since Zitu himself sent our two souls to dwell in the flesh. Therefore forgetting caste and all else, came I to Aphur and to you. Caste I have overridden and risen above. Think you I shall let Cathur stand between us?"
For one wild instant while he spoke he thought her about to answer word for word. For she smiled. Then, she sprang swiftly to her feet and faced him tensely erect. "Stop! Jasor of Nodhur, you forget yourself. Think you so lightly of my plighted word, that you dare to address me thus. To Cathur I am pledged. To a maid of Tamarizia that promise is sacred, not to be broken or put aside, save by an act of Zitu himself—save it be broken by death."
Croft had risen, too. "An act of Zitu," he said as she paused. "And may not my coming to Aphur in itself be an answer to your prayer for deliverance from the embraces of Cathur's unworthy heir?"
"My prayer? What know you—"
"I know much," Croft cut her short. "Am I dull of comprehension not to sense the name of her who prayed to Zitu in her travail? And what should wring such prayers from you save that defilement it is planned to bring about, to add to Aphur's strength?"
"Were I to speak your words to Lakkon or to Jadgor, it would mean your death."
"Then speak them—if you wish, beloved." Croft smiled.
As quickly as she had threatened, she drooped now at his words. "Who are you—"
"One who loves you," said Croft. "Who has loved you always—who always will. One whom you love—"
"Hold!" Once more she checked him.
But he shook his head. "What need of the sacrifice—when I shall give Aphur and all Tamarizia that strength they would purchase now with you?"
"Yet for that strength your price would be the same."
"Nay—" Croft denied, "unless it were paid gladly."
"And if it were not?"
"Still would I give Tamarizia strength."
Suddenly Naia of Aphur smiled. To Croft it seemed that she was well pleased with his answer. But barely had her lips parted as though for some further reply, than the Mazzerian passed toward the outer doors of the court.
The princess's whole expression altered. "My father comes. I cannot speak further concerning this matter now. Did he dream of our discussion, there would be no bounds to his wrath. Did he know that I could consider such things, Zitu himself might not quench his rage."
"Yet will you consider them, my Naia. You will give me an answer."
"Later," she told him quickly. "I—we may not discuss it further now—my lord."
Hours later Croft looked from the windows of his room. The evening had been spent in a far more formal fashion than the late afternoon. Lakkon had come in. He had welcomed his guest. Over the meal Croft had described again his plans, to the flattering attention of his host. Naia had lingered with them for a time, before she had gone to her room.
Now as he leaned from his window he found all the garden beneath him, the mountain valley, the lake flooded in the light of the Palosian moons. Drawing back he left his apartment, passed down the balcony corridor to the small door giving onto the garden stair and ran quickly down.
The breath of flow
ering shrubs was about him. Choosing a path which ran off before him he strolled along. So by degrees he approached the white walls of the garden bath, doubly white now in the night. And having approached them he paused. The sound of a gentle splashing came from within.
Croft smiled. "Princess," he called softly, from beside the entrance screen.
"Aye. Wait, Jasor of Nodhur." There came a louder sound of movement, followed by a silence, and then: "And now my lord you may come."
Croft passed the screen. The maiden stood before him. Her hair was coiled about her head. Her shoulders and arms showed glistening in the moonlight from the moisture of her skin.
"Naia," said the man.
"My lord." She smiled.
"Nay—call me Jasor at least," he returned.
"Jasor," said she.
And suddenly, Croft reached out toward her and swept her into his arms. "Mine!" he cried. "Mine! Woman whom Zitu himself has made for me."
"Hush." Her hand fell over his lips, and he felt her tremble. "Jasor, how knew you I was here?"
"I knew not until the night called me into the garden and I heard the sound of the water," he replied. "Then your presence told me of itself and I spoke your name."
There was a stone seat at one end of the pool. She led him there and seated herself at his side. "You are bold," she said, speaking quickly. "Jasor, I came here to think. Can you truly do those things you spoke of?"
"Do you doubt it?"
"Nay, I think not. You would do all you say—for me?"
"All and more, for you, or to save you a sorrow," Croft said.
"Think you," said she, "that Kyphallos of Aphur is aught to me?"
"No. I know you hate him, Princess—name him the beast he is."
"You know much. Yet things there may be you know not of. Listen, my lord. My lips touched not the wine in the silver goblet the night of the betrothal feast."
"Naia!" Croft came to his feet.
Naia of Aphur rose also. "My eyes looked into yours above the goblet," she said softly. "They forbade my lips to drink. Hence Jasor, this is my answer—I am yours can you win me in time."
And now she cam into his arms of her own volition. Croft found her upon his breast, clinging to him with her slender hands, looking up into his face. Some way his face sank to meet hers. Some way his mouth found her lips.
Then she had torn her mouth away. "Zitu, what have I done?" she cried. "No maid of Aphur may touch the lips of a man not of her blood, unless she is his bride. Jasor of Nodhur, you must save me—win me—now."
"Aye, I shall win you." Once more Croft claimed her lips and she did not resist.
"Swear it," she panted when once more her lips were free. "O Zitu, swear I shall be wholly yours. Think you I could yield to Kyphallos now? Nay—I had rather die."
"I swear," said Croft. "And tomorrow I shall return to Himyra and my work."
"Tomorrow." Disappointment rang in her tones. "When I have counted each day until you should come."
"Himyra is not far in the car already made," Croft said, ignoring her ingenuous confession. "I shall come to you again—aye, again and again."
"Yet we must be discreet," Naia exclaimed. "You must come—I must see you—but we must keep this secret in our hearts. Did Lakkon dream that Naia had dared to break her spoken pledge—" She paused. A tremor shook her as she leaned against him with his arm about her waist.
"You must return to your room," he urged. "Fear not. Yet when you pray, ask of Zitu that he give me speed and knowledge in my work. And should you not see or hear from me for a time, be sure that all I do is for you, that you are ever in my thoughts."
"As you will be in mine. Yet before I go in now, my lord, give me again your lips."
"Beloved!" Croft held her a final moment and saw her depart.
Quickly he went back to his own apartment and laid himself on the couch. Then he put all else out of his mind and fixed its full power on his task. Swiftly that conscious entity which was the real man flitted across the Central Sea, and found itself in the palace of Scythys, the Cathurian king. About it he prowled, invisible and unseen by the nodding palace guards. And in it he found no sign of Scythys' son.
Once more he flitted free. To Abbu he went and found the monk asleep in a room of the Scira pyramid. And from there he flashed to Anthra, and found the gilded galley of the fickle youth tied up in the harbor basin, and Kyphallos lost in dalliance with a slender and beautiful dancer. He turned away, yet not before he learned that Kyphallos went to Niera tomorrow, as he had promised Kalamita.
Back to his chamber and the body of Jasor of Nodhur went Croft. At least now he was satisfied that he could watch Kyphallos and mark his every move. And in the morning he entered the motor and ran back to Himyra before the heat of the day. Work—work. That was to be his motto for the golden days to come. But first he must again return to Earth.
That day, therefore, he spent in coaching Robur toward keeping the work moving on the engines. Also he requested that he have a great shop erected beyond the one they were using to expedite the work, and drew for him the plans for a sort of dock, wherein motors might be installed in a number of ships.
"Why give these to me?" Robur asked after Croft had explained.
"Since, that tonight, Rob, I shall fall into the sleep of which I have told you."
"Zitu! You feel it upon you?"
"Yes."
"And it will last for how long a time?"
"I know not," said Croft. "It shall endure until I am possessed of the next means for making Aphur strong. Do you remember your promise to guard my body well?"
"It shall be well guarded."
Yet that night a sudden panic seized upon Croft. What, he asked himself, if some unknown peril should threaten Naia while he was studying munition-making on Earth? He sought out Gaya, and finding her alone, explained to her as he had explained to Robur before the nature of his coming sleep.
She heard him wide-eyed, and before she could break forth in comment Croft went on. "But Gaya, wife of my friend, should any peril or danger threaten Naia, daughter of Lakkon, the cousin of your lord, and I be still asleep—come quickly to me and bend to whisper, 'Naia needs you' and I promise I shall awake."
Gaya gave him a wide-eyed, startled glance. "Her name will rouse you from this sleep of deathlike seeming?"
"Aye," Croft smiled. Gaya's expression had told him in a flash that she understood. "Wife of my friend, I think her name might wake me from death itself."
"Jasor!" Gaya cried. "My lord—can this thing be?"
"Aye."
"Yet she is pledged to Cathur." Gaya grew swiftly pale. "Jasor, my good lord—and you love her, speak not concerning it to any other save myself. I swear by Zitu to keep your words in my heart. Do you control your tongue."
Croft smiled into her troubled face again. "My tongue I may control," he declared. "But my heart can I not curb."
"Robur approves not of it, nor I," Gaya told him softly. "Love brought Milidhur and Aphur together. But—this—this of—of other design. Jasor, you are strong—you have thoughts above other men, and something tells me the maid would lie happy in your arms."
Croft sprang to his feet. "You would approve it, Gaya, my sweet friend?"
"I am a woman. Naia loathes this Cathurian prince."
"And a cycle lies before us, ere he claims her for his own."
"What mean you?" Gaya half rose. Her hand lifted to her breast.
"Nay." Croft shook his head. "I cannot tell you. Yet, as you say, I am strong, and I shall make Aphur and Tamarizia strong as myself and stronger a thousand fold. Remember, therefore, the words I have told you to speak, and say them close in my ear, in case any need should arise."
Chapter IX
Naia! Naia of Aphur would lie happy in his arms. And by Zitu! Some day she should. Croft laid himself on his couch and fell into that deathlike sleep of the body, he had learned so well to produce.
But his spirit fled across the Central Sea to Niera, willing
itself into the presence of Cathur's heir wherever he might be. He found him in the room of a red stone palace overlooking the sea from the terraced side of the shore on which it stood. He lay on a copper couch, covered with silken cloth of a clear pure yellow, and he wore an expression of sullen pique upon his face.
For he was not alone. Nor was this his private apartment as Croft understood in a glance. It was the suite of Kalamita herself.
"Nay—think you I have no other source of information beyond your own rosy lips, good Kyphallos, or that I know not men for what they are? This flower of Aphur is pretty. Bzad, who has disguised himself and journeyed to Himyra as a common sailor, has seen her. Also it comes to my ears that you drank too deeply of the Aphurian wine. A drunkard and a pretty fleshly toy. Zitemque himself never fashioned a stronger design for the making of trouble and fools. Think you I cannot understand?"
Kyphallos frowned. "One would think you Gayana."
She shrugged. "Nay, I am no priestess of Ga, nor do I ask that you look no less clay. Yet Kalamita gives not herself to be cast aside for a woman of Aphur's choosing—or a woman of equal rank."
So that was it, thought Croft. Kyphallos quitted his couch and crossed to her side. He caught her and raised her in his arms. "You are the fool! Yet by Zitu, I delight to see you heated, by word of another than yourself. Listen—and this time believe. I found myself in a trap of Jadgor's devising. Had I refused this rite of betrothal, how think you he would have looked upon my act? Could I allay all suspicion of those things which shall bring you queen to Zitra's throne in better fashion than to accept?
"Think not all the wisdom of manking lies wrapped in your beauteous head. Kyphallos of Cathur, is no more a fool than another. Hence I stand pledged to Naia, of Aphur. Thus have I gained the time of a cycle for the further perfecting of my plans."
"This is the truth?"
"Aye—as I tell you. Small need of your spies in Aphur to bring you word. Myself, I left a spy to find out the secret of this new car which runs itself. Aye—Cathur, too, knows how to plan."