CHAPTER V
BEYOND THE HEIGHTS
As Tharn felt those fingers close about his ankle he dropped instantlyto his other knee to keep from being upset and swung his free hand in asweeping blow at the point where reason told him the face of hisattacker would be.
So quickly had he acted that his knuckles thudded home on an unseen jawbefore its owner was able to shout an alarm. There followed a convulsivetwist of a body in front of him and the clutching fingers loosed theirhold.
His unconscious prize still hanging from his shoulders, Tharn regainedhis feet and raced cat-like for the mouth of the cave. Behind him hecaught the sound of a startled grunt, followed by a wild yell thatroused every occupant of the cave while Tharn was still a good thirtyfeet short of his goal.
A huge form shot up in front of him, a raised knife silhouetted againstthe star light beyond. Behind him naked feet whispered against rock asseveral enemy warriors rushed to close with the foolhardy intruder.
Tharn was trapped! Burdened as he was by the limp weight of his captive,he knew his chances of leaving Gerdak's cave were almost nonexistant.
But not once did the thought come to him of abandoning his catch--hisonly means of locating the route of those who held Dylara. With a singlebound he was upon the man in his path; a supple twist of his bodyallowed the descending knife to slip harmlessly past. At the sameinstant he drove a hip into his attacker, who, off balance, was knockedheadlong into two other warriors.
The way was clear now to the cave's mouth and Tharn was congratulatinghimself that he would at least reach open air when two more warriorsdropped from above onto the narrow ledge of Gerdak's cave. Evidentlythey had been aroused by the chorus of yells and had come down fromtheir caves to investigate.
At sight of their leveled spears Tharn skidded to a halt. Behind him hecould hear at least two of Gerdak's personal guards moving cautiouslyforward to take him from the rear. With no avenue for retreat, with apair of trained fighting men cutting off his advance, his chances forescape were thinned indeed.
Yet not for an instant did his confidence waver. He had weathered worsesituations, and the muscles and cunning developed by a thousand junglebattles were weapons superior to the flint-headed spears hemming him in.
Even as he came to a halt, his sharp eyes caught a glimpse of that stackof spears he had passed when first entering the cave. One bronzed armshot out, circled the lot of those keen-pointed sticks and lifted andflung them in one continuous motion.
The warriors outside were engulfed by the minor avalanche of flint andwood. They stepped back precipitantly, and one of the men was tripped upas a shaft slipped between his legs. With a shrill cry of terror hetottered momentarily on the brink of the ledge, then went overbackwards, his despairing scream rising thinly on the night air.
Tharn had not waited to learn the outcome of his ruse. While theremaining warrior was attempting to sidestep the shower of spears thecave lord was upon him. Avoiding the flint point licking out at hisnaked chest, he ducked and swung his free fist in a savage arc thatended wrist deep in an unprotected belly.
Bent nearly double by the blow, the enemy Cro-Magnard was liftedcompletely from his feet and propelled into space, his alreadyunconscious body tracing a perfect parabola to death on the ground sixtyfeet below.
* * * * *
Although no enemy stood before him, Tharn was a long way from safety. Aspear thrown from the cave behind him passed scant inches from his headsignifying Gardak's personal guards had recovered their wits and wereafter him once more. Below him a score of cave mouths were disgorgingarmed fighting men and flaming torches dotted the cliffside. To attemptto descend by the path that had brought him here was worse thanfoolhardy.
As in most Cro-Magnon settlements, the chief's own cave was nearest thecliff's top. A glance upward revealed to Tharn the escarpment's top notmore than twenty feet distant. To swarm up that almost vertical slopewhile burdened with a body would have taxed the agility of littleNobar, the monkey. But there was no other avenue of escape except tobattle an entire community--and no time to compute chances for scalingthose heights.
Already two warriors, each armed with a stone knife, had gained theledge on either side of him, grins of triumph curling their lips, whilea faint scuffling sound against the cave floor behind him told Tharnothers were slinking toward him from the rear.
With a muffled snarl Tharn wheeled and began to climb. His gropingfingers and toes found outcroppings of rock to serve as almost invisiblerungs of a perilous ladder. A lifetime of climbing, plus utterself-confidence, sent him up that sheer surface with incredible speed.
So completely unexpected was their quarry's route that Gerdak's men werethrown into momentary confusion. By the time the first shower of spearsrose toward the climbing cave man he was three-quarters of the way tofreedom. As a result most of the weapons fell short of their mark, whilethe others, because of the uncertain light and the swiftness of theirtarget's progress, missed completely. Immediately a second flight ofspears were launched--but time had run out. Tharn was already over thelip of the precipice as they were rising in his direction.
He found himself on rolling, grass-covered ground. A hundred yards aheadwas a jungle-cloaked forest, its towering trees close-knit to the pointof impenetrability.
With long, loping strides Tharn crossed the ribbon of grassland, meltinginto the shadows of the overhanging branches as the first of Gerdak'swarriors appeared at the cliff's top.
The ground was too choked with verdure for more than snail-likeprogress, and Tharn, his unconscious burden still draped across onebroad shoulder, took to the trees. With a celerity that long ago hadbecome second nature to him he raced through the branches, movingparallel to the strip of grassland he had crossed a few moments earlier.The shouts of his bewildered pursuers faded, swallowed up finally by thenoises peculiar to a nocturnal jungle.
Half an hour later altered his course and returned to the ribbon of openground. By this time his captive was showing signs of returningconsciousness and Tharn tightened his grip on the youth's arm to preventhim from attempting to get away. He could feel tremors of fear coursethrough the flesh pressing against his shoulder and he smiled grimly. Aterrified prisoner was usually a tractable one.
At this point the cliffside was neither as steep nor as high as thathousing Gerdak's tribe. Tharn went over its edge without hesitation,slipping groundward with the reckless abandon of a falling stone, yetlanding there without an appreciable jar.
The forest at this point came almost to the base of the cliff. Tharnentered, swung lightly up to the middle terraces and set out on thereturn journey to that point opposite Gerdak's caves where he had leftTrakor.
While he had still a goodly distance to go he heard the sounds ofshouting voices and caught an occasional glimpse of a flaming torchthrough rifts in the foliage ahead. Evidently Gerdak was not lightlygiving up hope of getting his hands on the man who had made fools of himand his warriors.
An unerring instinct developed through years of travel through unchartedterrains brought Tharn to the very tree where he had left his new foundfriend. But even as he entered its branches his nose told him what hiseyes verified.
"Trakor," he called out, keeping his voice down lest some nearby enemywarrior hear it. "Trakor, where are you?"
There was no answer. Trakor was gone.
* * * * *
Even as Sadu left the ground in a final leap aimed at crushing Dylara'sfleeing figure to earth, the girl sprang for a low-hanging branch of ajungle giant. As her fingers closed about its rough bark she flung herbody to one side, Sadu's cruel talons raking the air scant inches away.Before the beast could turn and leap a second time she was twenty feetabove it and climbing with the speed of desperation.
She heard the sound of tearing foliage as the lion sprang blindly intothe lower branches, a thump as it toppled back to earth, then an angryroar of protest at being cheated of its prey. She stopped her climb
thenand leaned her head weakly against the bole, panting and shivering fromstrain and utter relief.
Below her, Sadu stalked back and forth a time or two, voicing hisdispleasure. This lasted for no more than a moment or two, however; Saduwas too much of a realist to waste time in bewailing his ill luck. Therumblings of satisfaction from his fellows as they bore their kills intothe forest, the screams of dying men, told him there was food aplentyback among the fires.
Dylara caught a glimpse of the brute as it slunk swiftly toward theterrified encampment. She crouched there, watching the awful scenes ofcarnage while gradually her heart stopped its mad pounding and thetrembling left her legs and arms. She knew regret that many of the menshe had learned to know and respect were dying so horribly, but thesight of what went on did not affect her beyond that. Except for theselast few moons all of her eighteen years had been spent practicallycheek by jowl with the jungle and its denizens, the only life she hadknown. The fiercest animals had stalked her at times, just as thewarriors of her father's tribe had stalked them. She knew first-hand thestinging insects, the loathsome snakes whose bite or coils could bring alingering death or a quick one. She knew the chill nights of the rainyseason, the unbearable heat and humidity at other times. As a resultdeath and suffering were able to touch her deeply only when theyaffected some one close to her.
It was a kind of life that had its compensations. She was far moreself-reliant and much better equipped for survival under her presentcircumstances than the average Ammadian would have been. Her eyes andears were more sharply attuned to impending danger, she could climb farbetter, she knew how to find water where her recent companions wouldperish of thirst, she could distinguish between poisonous andnon-poisonous fruits and roots.
Yet for all of that she was still a girl, young and, by junglestandards, weak. She caught herself wishing Tharn were with her--andeven as the thought came she knew a fleeting doubt.
Did she love him? It was a question she was not yet able to answer. Thememory of his handsome face and splendid body rose to torment her withdoubt. She recalled him as he appeared in Sephar's arena facinginsurmountable odds with a laugh and a careless toss of hisblack-thatched head, remembered his blazing eyes and rippling muscles ashe plummeted to earth between her and charging Sadu, appearing just intime to stave in the lion's skull with one terrible blow. In all thejungle, in all the world, there was no man a tenth his equal in cunning,strength and courage! Even among his own kind he was unique; for no manin Cro-Magnon history could use his nose the way the beasts used theirs,no man who could travel among the trees with the rocketing agility oflittle Nobar, the monkey.
If only he had met and wooed and won her instead of seizing her by forceand carrying her away like some bit of jungle loot! Pride and theawareness of her position as daughter of a tribal chief could not permither to surrender to a man who would do such a thing. It was the way theHairy Men[2] won their mates, and Dylara, daughter of Majok, must giveher heart, not have it taken!
[2] The Hairy Men was the Cro-Magnards' name for Neanderthal Man. TheNeanderthalers appeared in Earth's prehistory roughly 100,000 yearsbefore the birth of Christ and centered in Southern France and Spain oftoday. At the time of the Cro-Magnards' arrival, perhaps 80,000 yearslater, Neanderthal Man was nearly extinct, possibly because of climaticchanges due to the recession of the last Ice Age. Cro-Magnon Man, thefirst of _Homo Sapiens_ (true men), regarded these ape-like subhumans aslittle more than beasts and eventually exterminated them.--Ed.
* * * * *
Even as she told herself this for the hundredth time, she realized suchthoughts were probably empty. The chances were overwhelming that Tharnhad not survived the rigors of the Sepharian Games: battles between menand between men and beasts for the entertainment of Sephar's populaceand held in honor of the God-Whose-Name-May-Not-Be-Spoken-Aloud. Jotanand the others had told her many times that no man in all Sephar'shistory had ever come through those Games alive.
And even if he should! Would he undertake to follow her across thealmost limitless stretch of plains, mountains and jungles to the countryof Ammad? Even if he should accomplish such a feat--how could he hope towrest her from the depths of a stronghold as impenetrable as sheunderstood Ammad to be?
No, it was unthinkable. She had best wait until the lions were drivenfrom the encampment below, then slip from her tree and go back to Jotan.Since the day he had won her from Sephar's high priest he had treatedher with unfailing courtesy and kindness, declaring over and over hislove for her but not once attempting to force his attentions upon her.After a little while she might allow herself to be won over intoaccepting him as her mate. It would be an honored, sheltered life and intime she might know complete happiness.
Dylara was shaking her head even as these last thoughts were crowdingin. No. Her place was with her own kind, with Majok and the others. Itwas a long, long way back to them and in the attempt she might leave herbones to bleach on some mountain top or disappear down the maw of one ofthe great cats. But there was no other acceptable choice--and no timelike the present to get started.
Carefully she began to work her way into the jungle, moving cautiouslyfar out on a strong limb until she was able to clamber into the branchesof the next tree. The curtain of greenery was too thick for the light ofmoon or stars to penetrate, leaving her to grope her way in utterdarkness. Each vine she scraped against was pictured in her mind as thesinuous coils of Sleeza, the snake; each fluttering of a disturbed birdwas an aroused panther or leopard.
She was not going on this way much farther; her nerves, steady as theywere, could not take much of such suspense. Only deep enough into thejungle to keep the inexperienced Ammadians from following her trail;with the coming of Dyta, the sun, she would locate a game trail pointingin the direction she wished to go, then descend to the ground and followit.
An hour later her trembling limbs refused to continue this inch-by-inchprogress. And so Dylara made her way toward the high flung branches of aforest patriarch to where Jalok, the panther, and Tarlok, the leopard,dare not go. Here the foliage was less compact and Uda's pale beamsdisplayed to her rapt eyes an endless sea of tree tops everywhere abouther.
Finding a comfortable fork fully a hundred feet above the jungle floor,Dylara composed herself to wait the coming of dawn. Finally she driftedoff to sleep, while far below a lion roared that he had made his killand filled his belly for the night.
And not long after, a jungle dweller, swinging swiftly through thetrees, came to a sudden halt on a swaying branch as a vagrant breezebrought the scent of her to its quivering nostrils. For a full minute itremained motionless as if carved from stone, then it turned sharplyaside and went on, fairly flying along the dizzy pathway of swayingboughs, following that scent spoor to its source.
* * * * *
While Tharn was puzzling over the strange disappearance of Trakor, hiskeen ears caught a sudden yell of surprise from the direction ofGerdak's caves, followed by a chorus of exultant exclamations that toldhim the Cro-Magnards had flushed some sort of game and had succeeded inbringing it down.
Quickly he lowered his captive to a broad branch, stuffed a handful ofleaves into its mouth, bound them there with a short length of vine,then lashed the wrists to the tree bole. This done he was on the pointof swinging off to investigate what lay behind those sounds when hecaught a glimpse of a familiar object swinging from a neighboringbranch.
His blackwood bow and quiver of arrows left earlier with Trakor! Withthem in their accustomed places along his back and shoulder, Tharn swungthe short distance between tree and clearing. From a wide branch hegazed down at the scene below.
A knot of enemy warriors was moving slowly toward the caves of Gerdak,among them the still struggling figure of Trakor. Wavering flames ofresin-wood torches lighted up his features and Tharn saw there was onlyrage in his expression and nothing of fear. Already shouts from thegroup had aroused others of the tribe and a score of them were runningforwa
rd to meet it.
With quick, certain movements of his powerful hands Tharn unshipped hisbow and withdrew several arrows from his quiver. Steadying himself onthe swaying branch, he notched an arrow, drew back the stubborn wood,steel muscles moving under his naked back, took careful aim....
"Twang!"
Like a plucked violin the bow sang his single note, polished woodflickered in the light of torches and one of Trakor's captors threw widehis arms and sank into a briefly twitching heap. Before his fellowscould grasp the significance of what was taking place three more oftheir number were down, each with a thin-bodied arrow protruding fromhis chest or back.
There was a general scrambling as those holding Trakor released him andthrew themselves headlong to escape the rain of death. The advancingwave of warriors halted with breathtaking abruptness, those behind thefront rank crashing into it. Momentarily freed, Trakor looked wildlyabout him, as confused as the others.
"Run!" shouted Tharn. "Into the jungle, Trakor!"
The youth heard--and obeyed. As he broke into a run, one of Gerdak'sfighting men, either more courageous than his companions or angeredbeyond reason at losing their prize, scrambled to his feet and liftedhis spear for a cast at the flying figure.
Again Tharn's bow twanged and a tufted arrow appeared magically embeddedin the spearman's chest. Voicing a piercing shriek he toppled back,spear rolling from his fingers.
Tharn was already among the lower branches of a tree when Trakor camecrashing into the jungle. As the boy plowed past, the cave lord reacheddown with one arm and caught him under the arms, lifting him to thebranch beside him before the youngster was fully aware of what washappening.
"Tharn!" It was a gasp of such utter relief that the giant Cro-Magnardsmiled.
"I thought I left you safe in a tree," he said.
"I meant to stay there, Tharn," Trakor admitted sheepishly, "but I heardone of them shout to the others that you had been captured and was beingheld in Gerdak's cave. I thought that because of the darkness I mightpass among them without being recognized, reach the chief's cave and insome way set you free."
"You could never have done it." Tharn's voice was stern, revealingnothing of his inner feelings. He was more deeply touched by thisevidence of loyalty than he cared to admit. For this untrained boy topit his relatively puny muscles against an entire community in an effortto rescue his benefactor was proof enough that here was material for theshaping of a great warrior; and with this thought Tharn's last remainingreluctance to be saddled with Trakor during the search for Dylaradisappeared.
* * * * *
The warriors of Gerdak appeared to have recovered their courage; alreadyseveral of them were entering the jungle in search of Trakor and themysterious bowman. Two of them passed cautiously beneath the very treein which their quarry was seated. Tharn touched his own lips in warning,pointed up at the branches overhead, then lifted the youth to his backand climbed in perfect silence to where he had left the captive Roban.
In the dim light Tharn could see the whites of rolling, fear-filled eyesand beads of perspiration dotting the receding forehead. A muffledchattering pushed through the wad of leaves and the prisoner shrank awayas far as the vines binding his wrists to the tree would permit.
The cave lord was undecided as to his next step. He dared not remove thegag from Roban's lips and question him here. A single shout would bringGerdak's men to the scene; and while this would mean little if anydanger to Tharn and his new-found companion, it could mean he might losethe services of Roban as involuntary guide.
The alternative was to carry Roban deeper into the jungle where he mightbe questioned without interruption, but Tharn knew that Trakor could nothope to follow through the tree tops.
There was but one answer: he must carry both of them. Quickly heloosened Roban's bonds and swung him lightly across one shoulder, thenturned to Trakor.
"Lock your arms about my neck," he said.
There was wonder and doubt in Trakor's expression as understanding cameto him. But such was his faith and confidence that he did not hesitateto comply with the order.
And once more Trakor, heart in his mouth, rode the skyway. Where beforethe awful depths had sent cold fear to his core, he was now confidentand unafraid; yet actually the danger of plunging earthward was fargreater this time. Bough after bough bent perilously beneath theirtriple burden as Tharn threaded his way, like a tightrope artist, alongthem, held erect only by his uncanny sense of balance. Constantly he wasforced to search out branches of sufficient strength, stepping out andonto them without the additional safety of a steadying hand hold.
Fifteen minutes of this was enough to satisfy him he was beyond anyterritory Gerdak's warriors would reach before dawn. The search would goon, of course, until Roban, dead or alive, was found; for he was son ofa chief and not lightly to be abandoned.
Near the pinnacle of a towering tree Tharn lowered his two passengers toadjoining branches. While Trakor watched, he removed Roban's gag, afterwarning him to utter no outcry on pain of instant death. The youthnodded violently in agreement, and for a moment he was unable to speakso cramped were his jaws.
Tharn glanced to where Trakor sat, an interested spectator to Roban'sdiscomfiture. "This is the chief's son?"
Trakor nodded. "He is Roban."
Tharn turned his sharp eyes to the captive, who was glowering at him inmingled fear and hatred, and said:
"A few suns ago you saw a party of Ammadians scaling the cliffs nearyour caves. Exactly where was this?"
Roban scowled unpleasantly. "I don't know what you are talking about."
"You know well enough. Answer me or die!"
"You would not dare kill me," Roban blustered. "I am Gerdak's son.Unless you let me go at once he will come with many warriors and huntyou down. He will kill you, but not quickly. First he will take hisknife and...."
He broke off suddenly, gasping as Tharn's fingers bit into his skinnyshoulder. "I, too, can use a knife! Answer my questions quickly or Iwill prove it to you!"
Roban licked dry lips. "What do you want to know?" he mumbled.
"The exact spot where the Ammadians climbed those cliffs."
"What are Ammadians?"
* * * * *
Tharn described them in a few words and Roban nodded grudgingly. "Yes, Isaw them. There is a place in the cliffs, a sun's march to the west ofmy father's caves, where a river tumbles over the edge. It was therethey climbed the cliffs."
"He is lying!" Trakor exclaimed. "At the cooking fires he said it waseast of our caves."
Roban's small eyes, evil and ratlike, swung toward him. "Your mother wasa hyena! Wait till my father gets his hands----"
Tharn shook him until his teeth rattled. "Where?" he growled. "The truththis time or I throw you to a lion!"
The words tumbled out. "Half a march to the west. There is a low pointin the cliff there, making it easy to climb. They are not good climbers;it took them a long time to----"
"Were there shes with them?"
"Shes?" The youth's beady eyes flickered. "I--I cannot say. I did notsee----"
Tharn shook him again. "Enough of your lies!" he thundered. "How manyshes were with them?"
"T-t-two." Roban was thoroughly frightened now. "I saw no others,although there may have----"
"Describe them."
"One had black hair; the other's hair was the color of Dyta, the sun, ashe seeks his lair for the night. Both were very beautiful, although theblack-haired she was less beautiful."
Tharn's chest swelled with elation. At last he had found the trail ofDylara and those who held her. He was eager to be on his way, flyingthrough the trees to wrest her from the Ammadians. They were only fivesuns ahead--a distance he could cover in a quarter that time....
His gray eyes went to where Trakor sat watching him. As those eyes methis, the youth smiled. "The golden-haired one must be Dylara," he said."Your search is nearly ended, Tharn. Hurry on to her."
> The cave lord caught the faint note of sadness in the young man's voiceand his admiration for the lad went still higher. Even as he was urgingTharn to go on without him it was with the knowledge that were the cavelord to do so it would mean Trakor's doom. Trakor could not now returnto the caves of Gerdak without being slain on sight; yet to remain alonein the jungle would mean certain death.
Tharn rose to his feet on a swaying branch, light from the moon pickingout his slow smile. "Come, Trakor," he said. "We must reach that pointat the cliff before dawn."
Trakor offered a protest. "But I will only slow--"
In reply Tharn picked him bodily from the branch and placed him acrosshis shoulder, hearing the young man's sigh of relief as he did so.
"But what about me?" cried Roban. "You can not leave me here!"
Tharn looked at him in simulated surprise. "Have you forgotten? Yourfather is coming with many warriors to hunt me down. You, yourself, havesaid so. Wait for them here."
"But Tarlok may find and eat me!"
"Even Tarlok does not stoop to carrion," Tharn pointed out. BeforeGerdak's son could reply, Tharn and Trakor were gone into the inkydepths below.
The Return of Tharn Page 5