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Robert Grandon 01 Planet of Peril

Page 12

by Otis Adelbert Kline


  "Where is Vernia?" asked Grandon. "Tell me quickly--is she safe?" Rotha hesitated as if fearful that he would strike her for her answer. "She is in that cave--with Tholto." The cave she indicated was a short distance from the one she had just vacated. Grandon swung his spiked club free and, snatching a blazing brand from the fire, entered, followed by Oro and several others.

  A solitary figure sat, cross-legged in the middle of the floor. It was Tholto. He waited their corning with bowed head.

  "What have you done with her, false friend?" demanded Grandon.

  Tholto removed his helmet and cast it to the floor.

  "Kill me, Grandon of Terra," he said sadly, in a tone totally unlike that of Tholto the braggart. "I bare my head to a just executioner. I am not fit to live."

  "Answer my question, accursed slave. Where' is our Torrogina?"

  "I do not know. I left her here for a short time while I went for a drink or two of wine. When I returned she was gone. My head was reeling from the drink when I entered. Many years have passed since I tasted liquor and I over estimated my capacity. I sank to the floor and dreamed a horrible dream in which I saw her torn to pieces by a huge animal. She is dead--dead, and I am the cause."

  "The fool is drunk," said Oro. "Pay no attention to his ravings. She is probably concealed somewhere nearby."

  After binding Tholto and setting a man to guard him, they searched the cave, calling loudly to Vernia, but there was no reply. Rotha was positive that she had not left the cave previous to Tholto's entrance, as the mouth was only a few steps from, the place where she had served drinks to the men, and she could not have missed seeing her.

  Grandon's attention was attracted by' a yawning hole about three feet in diameter, which had previously escaped his observation, as it was partly concealed by a section of jutting rock. He substituted a torch for the nearly consumed fire brand and entered on hands and knees followed by Oro. The opening grew larger as they progressed, until they could stand erect.

  Presently they emerged in the open air. They were in a fern forest, not more than a hundred feet from the camp, having come completely through the hill that screened it from the coast. Oro stooped and, with a muttered exclamation, picked up some strips which had been torn from a sack and knotted together.

  "She came this way," he said, excitedly, "for here are the strips with which Tholto bound her." His words were followed by a cry of horror from Grandon which brought Oro to his side.

  "The dream of Tholto," he said, brokenly. "It is a reality. Look!" On the ground before them was a pool of freshly congealed blood. Beside it lay a small Albine gauntlet--the gauntlet of Vernia!

  As Grandon sorrowfully retraced his steps followed by the horrified Oro, he pressed the little Albine gauntlet to his lips. With a dazed feeling of unreality he sat down before the fire. All night long he sat there, staring at the licking flames, unmindful of what went on around him. Tholto and his stupefied companions, disarmed and bound by Grandon's men, lay in a long row under the watchful eyes of four guards. The others slept, with the exception of Oro, who sat across the fire with Rotha, replenishing it from time to time. The two conversed in awed whispers, speculating on the possible fate of the culprits.

  The dawn found Grandon gazing at a heap of smoking embers. His four weary guards wakened their slumbering companions and lay down for a well-earned rest. The stupefied drinkers slept on, oblivious of the sounds that went on about them, as the awakened men prepared the simple breakfast of hot roots and stewed mushrooms.

  Marsh-men are expert fishermen, and four of them rigged some crude but efficient tackle by tearing up several food sacks for line, using thorns for hooks and stones for sinkers. They fished along the shore only a few yards from the camp and soon had caught more than the entire company could possibly eat. The fish were boiled in the same manner as the roots and mushrooms, and made a most pleasing addition to the morning meal.

  When all was ready, Oro fearfully approached his young commander with a shell of steaming roots, another of mushrooms, and a toothsome fish. Mechanically, Grandon took the food and tried to eat, but it seemed that every morsel choked him. He rose unsteadily to his feet, as his legs were cramped and numb.

  Grandon walked straight to where Tholto lay, bound and helpless. He called two of the men. "Remove his armor," he said curtly.

  The command was obeyed with celerity, while the soldiers crowded around to see how the culprit was to be punished. When his armor was removed the prisoner stood silently, almost impassively, waiting his death sentence.

  "I should kill you, Tholto," said Grandon, "yet I cannot bring myself to slay a helpless prisoner. You have proved yourself a man without a sense of honor or gratitude. As such, you are not fit to wear the armor or bear the weapons of a soldier of Granterra. I found you a naked, primitive savage, and return you thus to your native jungle. You will have a fighting chance for life. It is a slender one, but must be preferable to immediate death from your point of view. Gol"

  Tholto, no less amazed than those about him at this unexpected reprieve, climbed the rugged hillside and disappeared over the brow.

  Meanwhile, most of the sleeping deserters had awakened. They looked about them in astonishment, and several tried unsuccessfully to rise, but the bonds held them.

  "Are we to let them go, also?" asked Oro.

  "Cut their bonds, and see that all are thoroughly awakened."

  The men were forthwith released, and the more drowsy were shaken until completely awake, after which they all stood before him, the deserters unarmed, surrounded by the others.

  "I extend complete amnesty to you who forsook your country in its hour of need, following the leadership of Tholto, on one condition. That is, that you promise to return at once to Granterra, tell Joto all that has happened, and enlist your services with those who are fighting for the supremacy of man in the Valley of the Sabits. Do you promise?"

  To a man they assented eagerly.

  "Give them their weapons and provisions," ordered Grandon. "Let them begin their journey now." The craft was quickly loaded and pushed out to sea. When it had departed Grandon called his men around him once more.

  "The quest that we began with some scant hope of success has ended in complete failure," he said sadly.

  "Last night when I learned of the death of our beloved princess I was ready and willing to die. One thought alone restrained me. I have a duty to perform. Far to the north of us live a people who have been enslaved and driven from their homes without just cause. They made me prince of their country, which they call Uxpo, and I fought in their behalf until Providence intervened and carried me away through a series of strange adventures. I cannot command you to accompany me on the journey I will begin today. Nor will I entreat you. If there be those among you who love adventure for its own sake, I extend the invitation to come with me and share the fortunes, or mayhap, the misfortunes of war. I make no promises, nor do I offer any rewards, though if Uxpo should win to freedom those who assisted in her deliverance will not go unremembered."

  Oro was the first to speak. "Where Grandon of Terra leads, Oro follows," he said warmly.

  "He fought for the freedom of our country," said another. "I am at your service, Grandon of Terra."

  "And I--and I..." shouted the others in a chorus. "Lead us to Uxpo."

  "Load the boat and make ready to push off," said Grandon. "We will start at once. Some three or four days' journey from here a great river empties into the Azpok. By following it we will come to Uxpo."

  CHAPTER XVI

  PRINCE DESTHO, now provisional emperor of Reabon, moved his slender, leonine form to a more comfortable position on the scarlet cushions of his throne and turned his countenance in the direction of Zueppa, as he smiled a doubting smile.

  "Do you expect me to believe such a wild tale as this, knave?" he growled. "Authentic reports had it that she and her four guards were devoured by a reptile nearly a year ago."

  "I swear by the sacred bones of Thorth that
it is she and none other. Having seen her daily at the Imperial Court of Reabon, how could I forget her?"

  "Granted that the woman you found resembles the Princess of Reabon, how could it be possible that if lost in the mountains of Uxpo she would be discovered wandering on the edge of the great salt marsh along the Azpok Ocean?"

  "I can only recount the facts, your majesty, and let your own eyes bear me witness when you see her. We were just preparing for our evening meal when this girl suddenly appeared from the mouth of a nearby cave. At sight of the men and torches she turned and attempted to escape, but tripped over a creeper and two of our men caught her before she could rise. As she was clad frown head to foot in shining brown armor, I at first took her for a youth, but upon removing her helmet, discovered her identity, while concealing my own. After ordering the captain to bring her here unharmed, I hurried ahead to apprise your majesty of the good news."

  "Do any of the men know who she is?"

  "None recognized her, and I was careful not to betray her identity until I had learned your majesty's intentions:"

  "You have done well, Zueppa, and if she proves to be Vernia of Reabon you shall be highly rewarded. She must not, however, be brought here to the capital. The risk would be too great. Take her, instead, to my castle in my own kingdom, where every man is loyal to me, and where escape will be impossible. Matters of state delay me here, but I will be able to visit my castle in a few days. Take one of my swiftest motor vehicles and change the guard at the International Bridge before her arrival, posting only men from my own kingdom."

  That evening, while Zueppa sipped his wine in the guard house at the international bridge, a small party of huntsmen arrived and presented their passports. With them were two prisoners, a beautiful girl clad in brown armor, and a huge, hairy marsh-man, whose sole article of attire was a loin cloth. The young captain, after examining the passports of the huntsmen, looked at the prisoners. "And who are these?"

  Vernia threw back her visor.

  "The soldiers of Reabon do not question their rulers," she said. The captain stared in open-mouthed amazement, then turned to a soldier who came up behind him.

  "A striking resemblance to our princess," he muttered.

  "She is an impostor," said the soldier. "Were we not warned of her coming?" Vernia glanced imperiously at the two men before her. "Have you forgotten the homage due your princess? Procure me a fast motor vehicle at once and have done with your insolence if you would see the light of another day."

  Both men quickly bowed, with right hand extended, palm downward. Then a figure darted swiftly up behind them and kicked the bowing captain over on his face. In a flash Vernia recognized Zueppa.

  "How now, idiots?" he shouted. "You were warned by our worthy sovereign, Destho, yet you make obeisance before this impostor. Seize and bind her as you were ordered." With a growl of fury, the hairy marsh-man leaped for the wily commander, but a score of soldiers rushed in and soon had him bound and helpless.

  "Where did you get this brute, huntsmen?" asked Zueppa, looking at the still-struggling marsh-man.

  "We captured him in the woods as he tried to steal our prisoner from us."

  "Bring him to the castle of Prince Destho," he commanded. Then he lifted Vernia into his swift motor vehicle and sped away.

  Some hours later the vehicle drew up before a massive gate. Zueppa answered the challenge of the guard and the lifting motors hummed sonorously. Vernia, half fainting, was taken from the vehicle and carried through a low arched doorway and along a dimly lighted corridor to a sparsely furnished suite of rooms where she was given over to the none-too-tender care of a tall, gaunt female slave. The slave carefully locked the steel door and put the key in her belt pouch. For the first time in history, a ruler of Reabon was a prisoner within the borders of the empire.

  On the evening of the sixth day, Vernia lay face downward on her couch when footsteps sounded in the corridor. Her armor and hunting suit had been taken from her and replaced with the scarlet apparel of a princess. She sat up as a man entered--Prince Destho.

  "Greetings, fair cousin," he said, placing a tray before her and locking the door. Destho had always been handsome in a flashy sort of way. Now as he stood in the gold and scarlet raiment of a rogi of Reabon, Vernia marveled at the change in his bearing.

  "Your insolence is in keeping with your treason," she said.

  "A thousand pardons if I have offended you, but I could not properly make obeisance in your presence, since our positions are reversed. Last year, you ruled supreme in Reabon; today I rule. I expect from you the deference due your sovereign."

  "Expectation is far from realization," she replied.

  "We shall see. There are ways of taming a proud spirit which may not have occurred to you--but pray do not force me to speak of them. I have come to offer you a pleasant and honorable way out of your difficulty."

  "Which is...?"

  "It would have been easy to kill you, you know. My associates urged that course, but I would not listen to them. The throne was my ambition, but I sought more than that--to wed the most beautiful woman in all Zarovia." He raised his hand. "Hear me out, fair cousin; you cannot reverse history now. In ten days I will be Emperor of Reabon, while you are an expatriate. You know the laws that bind even the supreme ruler. The expatriate is an outcast, subject to seizure as a slave by the first free citizen who discovers him--or her. I would save you from that indignity."

  "And what is this pleasant and honorable way out of the difficulty?"

  "A marriage to your future emperor before the ten days are up. I will make you my empress, and together we will rule the mightiest empire in all Zarovia."

  "So you would return the half of my birthright in exchange for my hand in marriage. It is a most magnanimous offer."

  "It is far from being the worst I could make you. Where, on all Zarovia, could you find a man better suited to be your mate? My royal blood is on a par with yours. My bravery has been proved by the very coup that has. placed you in my power. As for my looks, I assure you there are a thousand beautiful damsels who do not think me unhandsome and would jump at the offer I am making you."

  "Your royal blood is an accident of birth, and your bravery is that of a man who seeks combat with those weaker than himself. I spurn your offer, traitor Destho. Pray, leave me now. Spare me the further insult of your insufferable presence."

  Destho cleared the space between them and seized her roughly by the shoulders, forcing her back on the scarlet couch. "Take heed, lest the insult of my presence become a reality. I could..." His words were cut short by the thunder of a heavy fist on the steel door. Furiously, he released the half-fainting girl and answered the summons, opening the door but a little way.

  "How, now, Zueppa?" he demanded angrily. "What is the meaning of this intrusion? Did I not, give you explicit orders not to disturb me for other than the most urgent business?"

  "It is because of your highness's command that I have come. A messenger has just arrived with startling news of a revolt in the kingdom of Uxpo. He awaits your presence in the audience chamber."

  "Another revolt in Uxpo? By the bones of Thorth! Will that kingdom never cease to trouble us?" He turned to Vernia. "I regret that I must leave you thus hastily, fair cousin, but I will return presently to continue our interesting discussion."

  He bowed sardonically from the doorway, then closed and locked the door after him. Vernia heard the retreating footsteps of the two men grow fainter in the corridor, finally dying away in the distance. She sank back on the couch.

  She had heard the conversation of the two men, but, at first, placed no significance on the fact that there had been another revolution in Uxpo. Gradually, however, it came to her that there could be but one man with the ability to lead the Uxponians to a successful revolt--Grandon of Terral. Some time later the gaunt slave woman came in to remove the dishes containing her untouched meal. Though she had always been sullenly taciturn in the past, Vernia resolved to question her.
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  "Have you heard aught of a revolt in Uxpo, Marsa?" she asked.

  The sour features of the woman brightened perceptibly.

  "It is the talk of the castle," she replied. "The capital has fallen into the hands of the Fighting Traveks and every Reabonian soldier has been killed, captured or driven from the kingdom."

  "You seem elated at the news," said Vernia, noting the unusually cheerful demeanor of her custodian.

  "And well I may be," she answered, "for I am of Uxpo. I was captured and brought here a slave by the armies of your father, Emperor Margo. These are the most glorious tidings I have heard in years."

  "No doubt the revolt was led by Bordeen, commander of the Fighting Traveks," said Vernia in as casual a manner as she could assume.

  "By Bordeen, say you? Hardly, though no doubt he took part in it. Prince Thaddor, who now calls himself Grandon of Terra, reappeared as suddenly and mysteriously as he disappeared nearly a year ago. It is said that he wears a suit of brown armor that will turn even a mattork projectile and carries weapons of the same strange metal, which cuts steel as easily as a scarbo's blade cuts wood. Report has it, also, that he brought with him a bodyguard of twenty men from a far country, similarly garbed and armed. And I understand that yesterday he was formally crowned King of Uxpo."

  "Would you be willing, Marsa, to do a favor for Grandon of Terra, the savior of Uxpo, if the opportunity offered?"

  "I would willingly risk my life for him, even as he has risked his for my beloved country," replied Marsa fervently.

  "And would you be averse to performing the task if it favored me as well?" The brow of Marsa clouded. "You have always been the most bitter enemy of Uxpo. My husband was slain by your father's soldiers and I was enslaved by them. You, in turn, twice led your armies into Uxpo for conquest and pillage. You ordered the execution of our valiant King Lugi and sent Prince Thaddor himself to wear his life away in the marble quarries. A favor to you could not possibly be a favor to the King of Uxpo."

 

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