Synopsis: John Eddington is mysteriously transported to a primitive and unknown world. Here, against incredible odds of mortal danger he must survive and make a place for himself on this savage planet.
John Eddington closed the door of his dusty land rover and looked across the sun-burnt landscape of Chillagoe, which is located in North Queensland, Australia. His brown eyes focused on the natural formation that dominated the immediate vicinity. It was a castle-like tower of soaring limestone, one of many that rose abruptly from the surrounding plains of the district.
Formed many millions of years ago as part of a chain of coral reefs, the gray rock of the jagged tor was dramatically streaked here and there with brighter orange and reddish markings. Below ground level such formations often contained many beautiful caves whose wondrous mineral formations, which ranged in colors from pure white to burnt sienna, made tourists gasp in amazed delight.
Eddington worked for National Parks and Wildlife, and his mission on this day was to investigate the geological formation before him, previously unexplored, for caves that could act as a source of additional tourist revenue.
The young man, in his mid twenties, eyed the landscape warily. The country around the rugged tor was broken up into a confusing maze of steep ravines choked with scrub that shimmered in the heat of the fierce Queensland sun. Eddington adjusted his backpack, and the set of his broad brimmed hat on the thick thatch of his dark hair.
Unhooking the satellite telephone from his belt he radioed base and advised them of his arrival at the site, and affirmed he’d call every half hour to give his exact location and confirm he was well. Such precautions were essential. Several years ago in another area, an inexperienced geologist had wandered far from his vehicle and had become hopelessly disorientated. By the time the search party found the man he was dead from heatstroke.
His call completed Eddington set off in the direction of the towering limestone formation. It was about a mile long hike. He would have liked to have driven closer, but the terrain near the tor had become far too rugged, and was impassable even to a four wheel drive.
Half an hour later he paused to rest in the scant shade of a scraggly tree and radioed base.
“How am I?” he testily replied to the inquiry. “Bloody hot, that’s what. Another fifteen minutes, approximately, and I should reach the base of this god forsaken escarpment. Joe, If there are caves here worthy of being considered tourist attractions we’ll have to build a walkway. The terrain is damnably rugged and the ravines choked with thorny scrub. And snakes - venomous ones, too.”
“You sound like you’re having a wonderful time,” replied Joe with a mischievous snicker.
Eddington, in no mood for humor, hotly told his colleague what he could go and do, and then rudely hung up.
Twenty further minutes of hard hiking brought him to the base of the towering escarpment. Here, he rested for a while in the cool shade cast by the mighty limestone tor. It was now noon, and after eating and drinking Eddington felt his strength, drained by the heat and his arduous trek, beginning to return.
Eddington made another call to base and now in a better mood, apologized shamefacedly to Joe for his earlier uncalled for rudeness, which his colleague, an easy going fellow, readily accepted. Their conversation concluded, the young man sighed as he ended the call on a friendly note. He promised himself to better control his hot temper. Joe had meant no harm by his humorous jibe. Another outburst like that could sour their friendship permanently.
Climbing stiffly to his feet, Eddington began to circle the tor, which he estimated to be about a mile and a quarter in circumference. Ten minutes later he was standing before a cave entrance that was partially obscured by scrub. Drawing his machete he commenced to vigorously slash the vegetation to gain a better idea of the size of the ingress.
The young man’s powerful physique soon had the way cleared. Eddington wiped the sweat from his brow and stood back. The entrance was about seven feet high and as many wide. Things looked promising so, unhooking his flashlight, he entered the rocky tunnel, wary of snakes underfoot.
The cave widened as Eddington moved along its length, and soon he emerged into a cavernous chamber whose full extent was hidden in darkness that not even the beam of his powerful flashlight could fully illuminate.
He swung his light about, the ray revealing the standard stalactites and stalagmites one would expect to find. There appeared to be nothing here that would elect gasps of wonder form jaded tourists. Disappointed, he debated whether to continue his exploration when his roving beam fell upon something glittering in the gloom.
Focusing the light upon it caused a gasp to escape his lips as the illuminating glow banished the veil of darkness. Before him, some twenty yards away, was a circle of eight tall stones resembling giant quartz crystals shot through with silvery inclusions. Now, here was something worth seeing!
Excitedly, Eddington approached the circle of crystalline stones, each averaging twelve feet in height. The circle itself was about ten feet in diameter, clearly man made. Could it be a Bora ring - a sacred circle where Australia’s first nations people held important ceremonies? If so, then it was nothing like the Bora rings anthropologists were familiar with.
Eddington was no expert, but he possessed enough knowledge of Aboriginal culture to know this was a significant discovery. The young man stepped eagerly within the ring, shining his light on each of the stones in the hope of finding carvings or other indigenous artwork.
As he let the light play upon the surface of each monolith the young man noticed that a faint glow lingered within the stone, even when he moved the torch away to examine another of its kind. It was a strange phenomenon, but he paid no heed (for he knew some minerals exhibit luminescence when light is shone upon them) until he came full circle, having explored each monolith without discovering graphics of any kind.
Now each stone was glowing with a faint pearly light. Eddington gazed on in wonder as the illumination increased. He reached out and touched a glowing stone, then quickly jerked away his hand with a yelp of pain. Alarm came upon him as he looked at his tingling fingers - the shock had been electrical in nature.
A crackling noise drew his gaze and now mild alarm became naked fear. Bolts of arcing current were leaping between the monoliths, trapping him in the centre of a ring of flaring discharges that formed a cage of lightening.
The worried man turned in a circle, but there was no breach in the barrier formed by the snapping bolts of fantastic power. Eddington could sense tremendous energy building. Unknown forces of incredible potency had been awakened, quite probably by his flashlight’s illumination.
The glow from the stones increased to atomic brightness. Eddington moaned, closed his eyes, flung his hands over them and dropped to his knees. It was a futile act. The light penetrated him like some dreadful x-ray. His body felt as if it was dissolving. Then, before he could scream in fear and agony, there was a terrible final burst of illimitable power that swept away all consciousness.
**********
The young man groaned and opened his eyes, surprised that he still lived. Eddington’s amazement advanced to shock when he rose painfully to an elbow and looked about. He was no longer in the cave. Wherever he was it bore not the slightest hint of resemblance to anything he was remotely familiar with.
The sky above him, what he could see of it, was pale lavender bisected by a narrow scintillating band of golden motes - a planetary ring - that arced across the heavens. Blocking much of the sky were towering growths of an extraordinary nature. Twisting rope-like tendrils rose up into the air from the loamy soil. They were jet black in color and mottled with yellow.
The ends of the living cables terminated in huge ovoid emerald bladders that floated high above like organic blimps. Huge fronds, similar to those of a tree fern, sprouted from around the base of the translucent bladders in thick masses. All about the staring, disbelieving man was a forest of these outlandish trees.
To say that Eddington was shocked would have been an understatement. He lay back on the ground and closed his eyes, heart racing wildly with fright. He would have prayed, but felt such acts were simply talking to oneself. Instead, he hoped it was all just a wild hallucination. But when he again opened his eyes the shocking scene was still there in all its undeniable reality.
For a time he lay in an almost comatose state as his jarred mind sought to comprehend what had happened to him. There was obviously a link between his experience within the mysterious circle of stones and his present circumstances. Clearly, he had been transported to another world. Not being a scientist the physics of how the transit had been accomplished were beyond his ability to elucidate, and he strongly suspected that even Earth’s most learned savants would have been equally baffled.
Slowly, the shock of the new left him. His mind adjusted to the strange reality. Eddington put aside all speculations. Practical things such as survival had to take precedence over esoteric matters. There was no sign of the stone monoliths, but all his clothes and equipment were still with him. He tried to contact base with the satellite telephone but, unsurprisingly, static was all he received.
Eddington began to walk, and as he had no idea where he was, one direction seemed as good as any other on this alien world. The land sloped gradually downward, and he followed the declivity, remembering that water would most likely be found lower down. His food and drink wouldn’t last more than a day at the most.
Again, he was assailed by worry. His mysterious disappearance would have a devastating effect on his family and friends. Would he ever see them again? That he would not was too distressing to contemplate, and so Eddington distracted himself by observing his strange surroundings.
The undergrowth was sparse, consisting chiefly of diminutive variations of the giant trees that overspread him. Animal life was also present. Yard long creatures resembling spiny metallic crimson millipedes scuttled rapidly through the leaf litter, fleeing before his approach. Black and gray flying creatures the size of sparrows and of a bat-like appearance fluttered through the forest’s canopy. One swept low to investigate him, and he saw that its head was more reptilian in appearance than mammalian, and that its skin and membranous wings were covered in fine scales.
About fifteen minutes had elapsed since the encounter with the aerial creature when a terrific roar broke the relative quite of the Arcadian environment. The source of the frightening noise was hidden by an unusually thick tangle of vegetation. Eddington carefully parted the growth. Cautiously peering through the aperture he beheld a sight that nearly stilled his heart with shock and fear.
Chapter 2: First Contact
Another tremendous roar exploded from the distended jaws of the horrid monster Eddington now gazed upon. The thing resembled a rhinoceros in size and general body shape. Its head, however, was more like that of a tyrannosaurus; its triangular teeth shark-like. The thick black skin on its back and flanks was crocodilian in nature. Its belly was of an ivory color.
The horror’s amber eyes were fixed on the humanoid before it. The being was man-like in appearance. Its huge body was thick with muscle and covered in fine slate gray scales, except for the head and back which were plated in larger, thicker growths. Curling horns, like those of a ram, sprouted from the humanoid’s temples. Eddington couldn’t see its face as the being’s back was to him.
That the alien was intelligent was evidenced by the heavy iron spear it clutched in its massive hands and the sheathed sword at its side. Its bravery could not be doubted as was soon demonstrated when the roaring monster charged its would-be prey.
The being stood its ground in the face of the racing leviathan. Eddington breathlessly watched the looming confrontation, heart in mouth. At the last possible moment the humanoid leaped aside and plunged its spear into the heaving flank of the foaming monster.
The horror stumbled passed and tumbled to the earth, madly snapping at the spear lodged in its side. Tearing the weapon free the beast rose, badly wounded but still full of fight. It lumbered towards the humanoid who waited bravely to receive its charge, heavy sword now in hand.
Again, the being demonstrated amazing agility. It dodged the monster’s cumbersome rush and swung the heavy blade. The keen edge bit deeply into the horror’s right eye. The beast roared in rage and pain as its nimble foe danced away from its clashing jaws.
Then disaster struck: The being’s backward leap had carried it from one danger to another. Its heel caught on a rock and down it tumbled, the jarring fall knocking the sword from its hand.
Eddington leaped from concealment as the vengeful beast rushed its downed opponent, monstrous jaws gaping wide to crush its tormentor to bloody ruin. The racing Earthman snatched up the spear the horror had torn from its flank. With a wild cry he plunged the point with every ounce of strength into the beast’s thick neck as it bent to rend its prostrate foe.
The creature howled. Blood gushed as Eddington jerked free the spear and swiftly struck again. The monster tried to come at him, but already weakened from the alien’s attacks, and now further debilitated by the Earthman’s onslaught, it sagged to its knees, jaws gnashing futilely, and in mere moments expired in a spreading pool of gore.
Eddington had acted by pure instinct - the natural response to render assistance to someone whose life is imperiled. But now that the moment of danger had passed, delayed reaction set in and he sank heavily to the ground, limbs trembling in fright at the nearness of terrible death.
The alien, more hardened to the savagery of its native world had quickly recovered, and now stood speculatively eyeing the Earthman, its retrieved sword poised to strike if the strange creature it looked curiously upon proved to be another threat.
“Ugoth,” it said in a guttural voice as it thumped its broad muscular chest and then pointed interrogatively at Eddington.
Eddington managed to master his emotions. Calmer, he uttered his own name whilst thumping his chest in imitation of his strange inquisitor. There then followed from the alien a burst of words quite unintelligible to the Earthman.
“Sorry,” he replied. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”
The being grunted in annoyance at the impasse. It stepped to the slain beast, and removed pincers from its broad metal belt, its only item of apparel. The humanoid then began pulling teeth from the monster’s jaws and dropping them into a small drawstring bag also depending from its belt of bronze discs. As the Earthman was later to learn these teeth were trophies of the hunt. The more dangerous the animal the greater prestige they earned.
Eddington watched the proceedings in silence. Given the language barrier there was little else he could do. When the bag was full of extracted teeth the being rose, pointed in the direction of a hill some miles away, one that could be seen through thinning trees that gradually gave way to a savanna. The expansive plain was carpeted in knee high red and yellow plants with rosettes of blade-like leaves, and the occasional coppice of the weird floating trees.
Ugoth began walking in the indicated direction, gesturing for the Earthman to follow. Eddington complied. There was little else he could do. He knew nothing of the environment in which he found himself. Which plants were edible and which were deadly poison were a complete mystery to him. The big alien seemed friendly, perhaps grateful that Eddington had saved its life. If he was to survive here the Earthman knew he needed a teacher.
They marched on, Eddington pointing at this object and that and asking what it was. Ugoth soon caught on and then the Earthman’s language lessons commenced in earnest.
**********
Three weeks had passed and the hill, which Eddington had initially thought their destination, was now far behind them. His understanding of the language had progressed rapidly, and now he could ask simple questions and understand most of Ugoth’s replies.
But even so there was much that remained a mystery. He still wasn’t sure of his companion’s gender. Ugoth, despite being entirely nude, displayed on sign of external genitalia. The humanoid’s shoulders were broader than its hips. The pectorals were tremendously developed, but there was no sign of nipples. Between its legs was a slit like the cloaca of a bird or reptile. Eddington was not sufficiently fluent to enquire as to his companion’s gender, and wasn’t sure if it would be polite to do so even if he could.
What he did know was the animal he’d slain was called an orot, one of the most feared predators of Annthor, the name Ugoth’s people called their world. As Eddington’s gaze roved across the plains, alert for danger, his eyes fell upon a distant herd of basku. These herbivores were similar in appearance to the dreaded orot, but had heads resembling those of a bullock and horns to match.
“Watch the sky also,” reminded Ugoth, who marched beside the Earthman. “Basku attract kaykors. Be alert.”
Eddington understood most of what his companion said and turned his gaze heavenward.
The kaykor was an aerial predator roughly resembling the harmless bat-like cas he had encountered in the forest so many days ago. The difference being that this monster was the size of a light aircraft, and possessed a long whip-like tail with a deadly sting at its tip.
The kaykor attacked by diving upon its prey, its envenomed tail striking like a vicious lash. Then it climbed swiftly skyward and circled until the potent poison took effect. When the prey was dead it would settle on the carcass and feed rapaciously. The things had an instinctive habit of attacking out of the sun, making them difficult to detect.
Eddington squinted against the glare. He gaped. A plummeting shape was silhouetted against the sun. It fell with the speed of a dive bomber. The Earthman cried a warning to Ugoth. Both jumped sideways and flung themselves upon the ground.
A snapping envenomed tail scoured the earth a bare foot from Eddington’s head, then Ugoth was up and swiftly hurled his spear. The hurtling weapon struck the kaykor’s wing. It screeched, dropped from the sky in a tumbling flurry of wings and crashed to the ground.
Ugoth, sword drawn, raced towards the fallen monster. The humanoid dodged its flailing tail and thrashing wings. With one swift and mighty cut the alien severed the deadly barb. Another sweeping stroke split the horror’s skull and it was dead.
Eddington joined his companion. The kaykor had a rank musty smell akin to mouldy rotting wood.
Ugoth’s rugged almost human face split into a broad grin, displaying prominent canines.
“Good food. We eat,” announced the being.
Eddington looked at the noisome carcass with understandable skepticism.
**********
Another month had passed, one filled with constant peril form ferocious wild beasts. But at last Ugoth’s homeland was in sight - a range of low bluish hills that stretched for many miles across the savanna, marking the end of the seemingly endless plain, and the beginnings of what the Earthman hoped would be a less dangerous life.
“You’ll soon meet my people. Do not be concerned,” reassured Ugoth, who by now was sufficiently familiar with Eddington to sense his apprehension. “When I tell them you saved the life of the aymut’s son, they’ll realize you’re no enemy.”
Eddington’s language had improved to the point where he could now hold complex conversations with his companion. Aymut, he knew meant “chief.” He also knew that Ugoth was a man and that his people called themselves the Monarri, one of a number of tribes inhabiting the range of the Takkaro Hills that they now approached.
“My strange appearance will no doubt cause quite a stir,” replied the Earthman. “But you know your people, and so I trust your judgement.”
They continued on in companionable silence. Several more hours of steady marching found them at the foot of the range where a narrow defile snaked up towards the pinnacle.
Four sentries leaped from the concealment of bushes at their approach, shouting sharp cries of alarm at the sight of, to them, the strange Earthman. Ugoth, whom they recognized, soon dispelled their consternation with explanations. The Earthman’s harmlessness now vouchsafed, Ugoth and his companion ascended the defile without further incident, one guard racing ahead to inform Vayan, Ugoth’s father and chief, of his son’s return, and the weird being accompanying him.
Another hour’s march brought them within sight of a village built into the side of the range. A natural shelf of stone with an overhang stretched for approximately a mile along the hillside, and beneath its beetling brow square buildings of mud brick had been constructed.
At the furthermost end a stone dam had been built to catch rainwater, and below this the hillside had been terraced for horticulture, with additional dams at every level, six in all.
The single story buildings, all joined in the manner of terrace houses, had been rendered with plaster and were painted in earthy colors, the frescoes depicting scenes of battle and the hunt. A crowd had gathered to curiously observe their arrival. The womenfolk, whose only item of apparel were bead ornaments about neck, wrists and ankles, had physiques nearly as powerful as the men. Their faces were a little softer than the males and their skins lighter in color. Their breasts were pear-shaped and numbered four in all - one set positioned as with human women, with the second pair close below the first. Unlike the men they had no horns.
Ugoth led the way through the curious crowd with the Earthman close at his side. Shortly, they arrived at the facade of a two story building, the only one of its kind, also distinguished by its entirely crimson colouration. The entryway guards let them pass unchallenged for they were expected, and so they stepped unhindered within the aymut’s residence, Ugoth confident in his homecoming, but the Earthman uncertain of his fate despite his companions reassuring words.
Chapter 3: The Duel
The doorway gave egress to a large formal meeting room where the chief of the Monarri held court. Bright frescoes decorated the walls, similar in theme to those that adorned the exterior of the other buildings. Ugoth walked confidently across the floor of polished stone towards a high dais in the middle of the room. Here, a figure sat ensconced upon a huge throne carved from a single block of granite-like rock. To one side of the dais were other notables of the tribe in solemn attendance.
Ugoth had prepared Eddington for the meeting with his father, Vayan the aymut. So when Ugoth dropped to his knees and touched his forehead to the floor three times the Earthman followed suit. These salutations complete, Ugoth then launched into a lengthy explanation of how he and Eddington had met, and how the Earthman had saved his life, as well as their further adventures crossing the perilous plain.
The entire account took about an hour to complete, at the end of which Ugoth declared his eternal gratitude to his companion, and stated he would sponsor Eddington for entry to the tribe of the Monarri.
Vayan gazed upon Eddington speculatively. The man’s visage, an older version of his son’s physiognomy, was lined with frowning thought. All the while the Earthman had remained silent, content for Ugoth to speak on his behalf, but now it was clear that the aged aymut wished to take his measure.
“You are a strange looking creature,” observed the aymut. “Are you a man, let alone a warrior? There is no thickness to the muscles of your arms. Our tribe needs warriors, not weaklings. And whence come you? Never have we seen or heard of any beings possessing your strange colouration.”
Eddington bit down on his temper at the perceived insult. Ugoth had warned him about his sire’s bluntness, but even so the cutting words had nettled.
“I am a man from a far country,” he calmly replied. “So distant that neither of us knew of the others existence until now. You shouldn’t judge a man’s strength by the size of his muscles. A warrior needs brains more than brawn.”
A hiss of derision exploded from narrow lips. All turned to see of one of the aymut’s advisers step forward from among the other notables. The fellow stared contemptuously at the Earthman, the livid scar upon his face adding to his brutish appearance. The ugly fellow’s mouth twisted into a sneer of complete contempt.
“Warrior? Why, I could break this weakling in two with ease. I say he’s a foreign spy attempting to infiltrate us for nefarious purposes. Let me kill the creature now and thus remove the…”
“That’s enough, Naxis,” interrupted Ugoth, a dangerous edge to his voice. “I know this warrior. He’s no spy. Are you questioning my judgement?” he challenged, hand fiercely clasping the grip of his sword.
“Enough, both of you,” sharply warned the aymut. “In this room every man’s voice must be heard. Naxis’ concerns are valid. My son, you can be too trusting at times. I don’t doubt your sincerity, but you may be mistaken.”
Eddington, whose temper had risen further at the insulting words of Naxis could remain silent no longer.
“The only person here who is mistaken is Naxis,” he hotly replied. ‘Clearly, his mouth is bigger than his brain.”
Naxis ground his teeth in rage.
“I demand recompense for this creature’s gross insult,” he shouted. “No one speaks to me thus. Bring swords and we’ll settle this by combat - to the death.”
Vayan turned calmly to the Earthman. “He has a right to challenge. Do you accept?”
Eddington cursed his unruly temper. He’d painted himself into a corner. Instinctively, he knew these people would never accept him if he refused. Even Ugoth might consider him a coward if he backed down. To decline would make him an outcast, and in a hostile alien world that would prove fatal.
“I accept,” he replied as he doffed his backpack and equipment. “Bring the weapons.”
“I’m sorry about this,” apologized Ugoth as a warrior was sent to fetch the blades. “Naively, I didn’t think Naxis would cause trouble. The position of aymut isn’t hereditary. Naxis is a contender as am I, and with this ploy he seeks to undermine me by proving I’ve poor judgement. Your swordsmanship had better be more than average. He’s a fearsome fighter.”
“I’ll be fine,” replied Eddington with more conviction than he felt.
The Earthman’s pastimes consisted of freestyle wrestling, and fencing with the saber. But these were sports, not life or death contests. Eddington was no killer of men. Any hesitation on his part, any holding back would be fatal in the face of a remorseless opponent intent on slaughtering him. Could he match that ruthlessness?
His thoughts on the matter were halted by the return of the warrior, who clutched a naked blade in each fist. Both combatants were separated from each other by ten paces. The iron swords, similar to a 17th century cutlass but with an oval guard, were delivered into their hands. Vayan then shouted at them to commence.
Naxis exploded from stillness, sword swinging in a wild slash. He meant to overcome his opponent by sheer ferocity. The streaking blade would have split Eddington to the waist had it connected. But the agile Earthman had nimbly dodged aside. Sharp iron crashed in a ringing sparking stroke against the floor, not flesh.
Eddington lunged at his opponent’s flank. Naxis, overbalanced, couldn’t parry. To avoid the thrust he flung himself to the floor and made a sweeping cut at the Earthman’s legs. Eddington jumped, and the whipping blade passed inches beneath his feet.
Naxis leaped erect. Both men began to warily circle each other. Eddington’s opponent was all speed and strength, which he meant to use to brutally punch through the Earthman’s guard.
Naxis feinted low; struck high. Eddington saw the ruse. He flung up his sword and blocked the vicious downward blow. Blade rang against blade. The force of the Monarri’s stroke nearly tore the Earthman’s weapon from his hand.
Again, Naxis swung at his agile opponent. Eddington leaped back, his foe’s point sliced his ragged apparel and grazed skin. Such was his enemy’s strength that had the Earthman blocked the blow his sword would have been torn from his already benumbed fingers.
Grinning savagely in anticipation of gory victory, Naxis rushed at him again in a whirlwind of fearsome strokes that came frighteningly close to ending the Earthman’s life. Eddington knew he’d have to use brain, not brawn to overcome the wild charges of his fearsome opponent.
Naxis launched another chopping blow at his dodging adversary. Eddington sidestepped the wild swing, cut upwards with his blade. It bit deep into the descending forearm of his opponent. Naxis howled. The sword fell from his grasp, clattered to the floor. The Monarri, despite his serious wound, lunged for the fallen weapon with the hand of his uninjured arm. Eddington was quicker. He slammed the flat of his blade against his opponent’s head. Naxis reeled. Eddington struck again and with the second blow his foe tumbled senseless to the floor.
Eddington stood above his downed enemy, gazing for a moment at the unconscious, heavily bleeding man. Then he turned to Vayan who, all the while with the rest, had calmly observed the battle.
“I’ve won,” he announced. “And in my victory I give this man his life.”
“As you wish,” replied the aymut. Then, turning to his son: “You are right, Ugoth. This man may be strange, but now there is no doubt he is a warrior. Take charge of him and teach him our ways.”
Ugoth led Eddington from the building. The Monarri looked back worriedly through the entrance and saw that Naxis’ wounds were expertly being attended to. By human standards it was a very serious injury. But Ugoth’s people healed with amazing rapidity. In a few days the injured man would be as good as new.
“Naxis is an unforgiving fellow. You should have killed him.”
“I prefer to be merciful,” replied Eddington.
“Well, I hope you don’t regret it.”
**********
Several days had passed since Eddington’s besting of Naxis. During that time Ugoth had taught him much about his people. The Moranni were one of six other settlements that inhabited the Takkaro Hills, the population of each avenging about two thousand. The people subsisted by horticulture, with hunting supplementing the flesh of the domesticated ubu, a creature somewhat resembling a guinea pig, but with an armadillo-like carapace.
Clashes between the various groups was common, the disputes often over accusations of one tribe encroaching upon the others hunting grounds, which is why Ugoth had been so far from home. These battles, very formal affairs, were conducted more for honour than outright conquest. The warriors of both sides challenged each other to individual combat. There was no chaotic melee as with medieval warfare, and the winning side was determined by the least number of opponents slain or wounded during the single fighting period, which lasted from sunrise to sunset.
To the Earthman the death toll was sickeningly high, but the birth rate more than made up for it. It was not uncommon for a Monarri woman to have quadruplets as suggested by the four breasts nature had equipped them with. The children, when born, were much smaller than a human baby. But they grew amazingly quickly, and reached full adulthood in a mere ten years.
As it was men who were killed in battle, or by wild beasts during the hunt, there were more females than males. As a result polygamy prevailed, with the widow of the slain given to the survivors, who wrestled each other for possession of her should she be desirable. Unfortunately, in this primitive society, women had very little say in what happened to them.
These were some of the thoughts occupying Eddington’s mind as he walked through a terraced orchid of unuko trees, an area of the settlement he had not yet explored. The unuko trees grew to a height of about ten feet. Their trunks were covered in a warty reddish-brown bark, and from the crowns sprouted stiff bluish fronds that reminded the Earthman of cycads in shape and growth habit. Beneath these fronds hung the strange nuts of the trees - segmented ovoids whose woody husks were of an amber coloration, and whose ivory flesh was reminiscent of pineapple in taste.
The women were largely responsible for the tending of the crops. At the moment, though, the orchid was deserted, those nuts ready to be harvested having been gathered some fifteen minutes ago. Eddington had decided to wait until the women had left so as not to get in their way - the trees had been planted close together for maximum productivity in the confined space of the terrace and he, though not as large as the females, still found it difficult in places to negotiate the crowding boles.
A stifled scream suddenly broke the shaded silence. Eddington stiffened at the unexpected sound. The cry had come from ahead of him, but the cause was blocked from sight by intervening vegetation. Realizing that something was dreadfully amiss he thrust his body between the warty trunks as rapidly as was possible and in mere moments came upon the brutal scene.
A young Monarri maiden lay pressed forcibly to the ground by her assailant whose back was towards the Earthman. The warrior’s knees pinned the girl’s spread thighs to the earth. His callous hand was now clamped across her mouth. His erect phallus was protruding from its cavity, and with his other hand he was trying to thrust it into her as she wildly beat him with her fists.
“Leave her be,” shouted Eddington, furiously.
The bestial fellow turned towards Eddington with a snarl of rage, and the Earthman saw that Naxis was the perpetrator.
“You,” growled the fully healed brute as he rose, huge sledgehammer fists balled in feral rage. His scarred visage was a twisted study in utter hate at the sight of the puny thing that had wounded and humiliated him. Without another word he leaped wildly at Eddington, fist swinging in a savage hay-maker that would crush the Earthman’s skull with frightful ease.
Chapter 4: Chemura of Thanor
The Earthman ducked the savage swing and slammed both palms against his enemy’s ribs, throwing all his brawny weight behind the blow. Naxis, already overbalanced by his whirlwind swing, crashed to earth under the violent impetus of his opponent’s mighty thrust.
But before the Eddington could press his swift attack Naxis, like a coiled spring, was on his feet and wildly rushing at the Earthman. As his feral countenance showed - all sense had fled Eddington’s opponent. He was now possessed by unthinking bestial rage. Instantly, the Earthman knew that in his towering fury Naxis would be insensible to pain.
Eddington leaped aside, barely avoiding the clawing hands of his savage opponent as he tripped the hurtling warrior. Naxis went down like a felled tree. The Earthman pounced on his back and caught his enemy’s bull neck in a crushing stranglehold.
Naxis reared up. Eddington wrapped his legs around his foe’s thick torso. He hung on grimly. Naxis tore brutally at the arms locked about his throat as he staggered one way then the other. It took all of Eddington’s strength to barely maintain his choke. He almost lost it when Naxis slammed him against a tree.
Pain lanced through Eddington’s back. He could feel his muscles weakening. Somehow, the desperate Earthman found strength and increased the pressure of his constricting arms. The blood supply to Naxis’ brain was cut off. He sank to his knees. His tugging hands fell from the Earthman’s bruised forearms. He collapsed face down upon the earth, utterly still.
Gasping from his frenetic exertions, the Earthman shakily climbed off his downed opponent. He turned to the girl. She still lay on the ground, clutching her ankle, which had been injured when Naxis, whom she’d been hiding from, had brutally tackled her.
“Its all right,” he panted as she returned his gaze with fear filled eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you. Are you badly injured?”
“My ankle,” she replied. “I twisted it when I fell. I can’t walk.”
The girl looked worriedly at Naxis. Eddington followed her gaze. The brute still lay unmoving. Whether the thuggish fellow was dead or alive he didn’t know, and at the moment the Earthman didn’t really care.
“I’d better carry you away from here,” he said. “Where do you live?”
“I’m a slave,” she replied. “I have no home. I belong to whoever wants me.”
Eddington suppressed a hot oath. This was one aspect of Monarri culture he could never accept.
“Then I’ll take you to my place,” he replied. “You’ll be safe there. I’m John. What’s your name?”
“Chemura,” she answered as he picked her up and carried her from the disturbing scene of the attempted rape. “You must be the warrior from a distant land everyone is talking about.”
The Earthman admitted that it was so, and the girl fell into a contemplative silence, as she ruminated over the various possibilities he presented.
As Eddington made his way through the orchard he could not help but notice that Chemura was different from the other Monarri women. Her figure was less muscular, but by no means was she weak. Her face was more delicate and her features closer to that of a human woman. The scales that clad her scalp were smaller. The ones on the rest of her body were so fine they were almost invisible. They were also cinnamon in colour, rather than the usual slate hue of the tribe.
She had eyebrows of a sort - curving ridges of scale that were darker than the rest of her body, as were those on her scalp. Small rounded ears were also present. The Earthman found her appealing despite her four pear-shaped breasts with their large ebony areola, whose color matched the lips of her mouth, her genitalia and the irises of her cat-like eyes. Chemura had a beauty of her own, different to that of an earthly woman, but by no means inferior.
“Are you from another tribe?” he asked, thinking her differences were thus explained.
“My mother was from Thanor. It is a…” Chemura paused for a moment, then continued. “There is no word for it in the Monarri language. “It is a very distant settlement, very large with tall well made buildings of stone, not mud brick. Life is much better there.”
“A city,” exclaimed Eddington, using the English word. So, there were more advanced civilizations on this world.
The girl didn’t understand the word, but she deduced its meaning from the way the Earthman had responded.
“You are familiar with such things as I’ve described?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “My people live in such settlements. We have many of them. But how is it that you are here, so far from home? I don’t understand.”
My mother, Usumara, was a very clever woman. She made a thing that could fly. Again, there is no word for it in Monarri. It took her far from Thanor, but something went wrong and it fell to earth here. She survived, but was captured by a Monarri warrior who made her his slave. I am the child of their forced mating.”
“An aircraft,” exclaimed Eddington, amazed. Well, why not. On earth people in the highlands of New Guinea were still living a stone age existence, while contemporaneous Westerners were jetting about the globe in fine clothes. Obviously, he had arrived in an Annthorian backwater.
“I’d like to meet your mother,” he said, excitedly. “I want to find out more about her country. It sounds very similar to where I’m from.”
“She was murdered five days ago,” answered Chemura, sadly.”
“I’m sorry.” he replied. “What of your father?”
“Naxis is my father, and the murderer of my mother. He is a violent man and killed her in a fit of rage.”
Eddington came to a dead stop, so shocked was he by her staggering revelation.
“You mean that the man who tried to rape you is your father?” he asked, utterly aghast.
“My mother was a slave,” she explained. “And the child of a slave is a slave. One can do whatever one likes to a slave. Such is the law of the Monarri.”
Eddington’s unease about aspects of Monarri culture had been growing, but after Chemura’s revelation he knew he had to leave and take the girl with him if she was willing. Ugoth seemed a decent enough fellow, but he couldn’t live in a society that condoned the blatant violation of a person’s rights - a culture where a man could rape his own daughter and get away with it. The Earthman knew he couldn’t change things. He was still an outsider, and probably always would be. His attitudes and values would see to that. He revealed his feelings to the girl.
“I see that you are a good man,” replied Chemura. “Now I know I can trust you. I have planned to escape for some time. You saved me from being raped, and so I will help you, but we must act quickly. It is a very serious crime to attack a warrior without formal challenge. My father still lives. I saw his chest moving. He will definitely complain to Vayan. You will be killed. Your friendship with Ugoth will not save you.”
“But Naxis struck first,” protested Eddington. “I was defending you as well as myself.
“You do not understand,” exclaimed Chemura. “My father was defending his right to have sex with me. That is how the Monarri will see it. Had you challenged him in front of witnesses (slaves do not count) you would be safe.”
Eddington swore. “All right,” he said. “What do we do?”
“I will guide you to the flying thing I have made. We must leave now.”
The Earthman followed his companion’s directions. He was curious as to the nature of the aircraft. How could Chemura make such a thing given the primitive technology of the Monarri? He wanted to ask, but had to save his breath for jogging, for the girl had impressed upon him the vital need for swift escape.
They quickly left the horticultural terraces and made their way along the rocky shelf towards the habitation’s exit. People looked curiously at Eddington as he carried the girl in his arms, but none interfered. Chemura was a slave, and it was none of their concern what the strange warrior was going to do to her.
Eddington nonchalantly greeted the squad of guards posted at the gate. They passed him through without question and, under Chemura’s directions, the Earthman set his feet on an upward snaking path that led to the summit of the hill.
They had traversed the trail for over half its length when a wild shout sounded from below. Eddington turned and saw a dozen warriors racing up the path towards him, Naxis in the lead.
The Earthman swore silently. He turned and sprinted up the steepening path, breathing hard. Eddington staggered to the pinnacle of the hill, and set the girl on her feet. He could go no further, his strength was spent from the exhausting climb.
Chemura limped painfully to a stack of boulders as the charging warriors raced towards them like a pack of slavering wolves. She grabbed a wooden lever jutting from the pile, which she’d prepared for this eventuality. The girl bore down upon it with all her strength, teeth gritted with the effort. The boulders moved, tumbled downwards upon the racing foe. Some pursuers leaped clear; others, not so lucky, were crushed to screaming death beneath the rush of boulders.
The girl limped to Eddington’s side. “They’re been slowed, but not stopped,” she warned. “Come on, there’s the flying thing.”
The Earthman followed her pointing finger. His eyes fell upon a floating tree. It was similar to the ones he’d first encountered. Twisting rope-like tendrils, black in color and mottled with yellow, rose up into the air from the soil, but in this case only to a height of about ten feet. The ends of the living cables terminated in a giant ovoid emerald bladder. Huge fronds, similar to those of a tree fern, sprouted from around the base of the translucent bladder in thick masses.
The only difference between this tree and the others was that its strange trunk of tendrils was much sorter, and beneath the fronds hung a large canoe-like gondola made from a latticework of woven cane, and from this structure, which measured 30 feet in length by 10 in width, depended net bags containing dried provisions.
“You can’t be serious,” he gasped, looking at the girl.
“I am,” she earnestly replied. “We get in, cut the stems and off we go.”
A bestial roar of rage ended all debate. The couple turned to see Naxis racing at them, a naked sword clutched firmly in his hand.
Eddington swept Chemura into his arms. Drawing on the dregs of strength he dashed for the makeshift balloon. He heaved her into the gondola and turned to face the rage of his charging enemy. In his current exhausted state he knew he’d have no chance against the towering brute if he fought fairly.
Naxis swung his sword. Eddington ducked, scooped up soil and flung it in his enemy’s face. The Monarri howled, lashed out blindly with his blade. It nearly struck the Earthman. Eddington despaired. Other warriors, the survivors of the rock-slide, had crested the hill and were racing furiously at him.
“Come on,” cried Chemura. “Get in.”
Eddington leaped for the strange aircraft. He saw the girl sawing through the tendrils of the plant. They passed between the gondola’s woven latticework, and the the knife she was using had been hidden in the fronds. He scrambled aboard. Chemura cut the final growth. The balloon leaped skyward, only to be dragged down. Naxis had cleared his eyes of dirt and was clinging to a dangling bag.
“I’ve got them,” he cried triumphantly to the racing warriors, now mere yards away.
The Earthman swore. He scrambled to the gondola’s edge and drove his fist against the fellow’s face. Naxis grunted, struck back. In his weakened state Eddington could not avoid the blow. His foe’s fist connected solidly and the Earthman was flung back unconscious upon the weaving. Naxis grinned and prepared to climb aboard to wreak vengeance upon his hated foes.
Chapter 5: Perils of the Sky
Chemura saw what happened. She lunged, plunged her knife in a vicious downward stroke. Its point stabbed Naxis deeply in the neck as he began to climb aboard. He screamed, let go, crashed to the rocky ground. The balloon shot heavenward. The racing warriors leaped for it. Their clutching fingers missed, and the strange aircraft gained the safety of the sky.
**********
Eddington regained consciousness. His bruised jaw ached, but his teeth were all there and none were loose. He’d been very lucky and knew it. Naxis’ awkward position had prevented him from employing the full power of his massive body. Had he been able to do so it was quite possible that the Earthman’s neck would have been broken by the fierceness of the blow.
The Earthman looked down through the interstices of the woven gondola and saw the strange balloon was now very high above the earth. He realized he must have been unconscious for some time, for the Takkaro Hills were a blue blur in the remote distance.
“How are you feeling?”
Eddington turned at the sound of Chemura’s voice.
“A little sore, but I’ll be fine. What happened?”
“I stabbed my father in the neck. He let go and up we went,” nonchalantly explained the girl as if such violence was commonplace. “My strike was deep into major arteries. I hope he dies and thus my mother, who was killed by his brutal hands, will be avenged.”
Eddington made no reply. Her bluntness shocked him into silence for a time.
“What happens now?” he asked, at last finding something to say.
“We drift with the wind, which tends to blow in a northeasterly direction - roughly were Thanor is located. We go as far as we can. When our provisions run out I release gas from the bladder of the bati tree that carries us. We descend, gather more food and continue our journey until we reach the vicinity of my homeland.
“This plan was my mother’s idea. It was she who planted the bati tree at the summit of the hill and awaited its slow growth. When she died it was I who finished construction, disguising the project as a Thanoran funeral rite for my departed mother. Fortunately, the Monarri venerate the dead, and so they let me complete the task even though I was a slave.”
“The flyer that your mother built. Was it like this?” asked Eddington.
“It had a bladder like the bati, and wings like a kaykor that could move to push it through the sky.” explained Chemura. “All these things were made by skilled workers under my mother’s supervision. We, on the other hand, will have to drift with the wind and hope it blows us as near to my mother’s homeland as fate permits.”
Eddington fell silent. He had hoped that Thanoran technology would be more advanced, but Chemura’s description of the machine - basically a blimp propelled by flapping mechanical wings - indicated their science was nowhere near that of his age, crushing his hope that they might have some idea of how he had arrived on Annthor, their world, and how he could return to Earth.
The hours passed and they drifted on, propelled by a steady wind that took them roughly in the direction Chemura wished to go. Eddington was looking to port, gazing across countryside that had changed from a savanna to one of forested hills and river valleys, when he glimpsed a dot moving in their direction. He drew Chemura’s attention to the object, which was rapidly approaching.
The girl tensed, her sharper vision seeing it clearly.
“It’s a kaykor,” she gasped in alarm. “It’s coming straight at us, which means it intends to attack. Prepare to defend yourself.”
Chemura pulled another long knife from its hiding place among the fronds. She handed it the the worried Earthman. Both watched the rapidly approaching Kaykor, their knuckles whitening with tension upon their weapons.
The thing circled them at a distance of about fifty feet, eyeing both with malevolence and hunger. The bulk of the gasbag, combined with the flying monster’s wingspan, prevented it from coming within striking distance. Not being herbivorous, it didn’t attack the bati on which they rode, and for a few minutes Eddington had the forlorn hope that it would simply give up and fly away.
But the kaykor had more intelligence than that. Its scrutinizing complete, the monster dived beneath the gondola and, in an display of acrobatics worthy of a stunt pilot, swept up and grasped the weaving with claws on feet and bat-like wings.
The horror thrust its barbed tail through the lattice like a rapier. Eddington jumped leftwards. The sting missed him, but only just. The Earthman stumbled on the swaying gondola. Chemura screamed in fright as he tumbled overboard. There was nothing she could do. The girl, hindered by her injured ankle, barely parried the darting sting as the Kaykor swiftly struck at her.
Eddington clung with one hand to the edge of the gondola. He had just managed to grab the edge. He dangled in the air, spine tingling emptiness beneath his kicking heels. A ripping sound drew his fear wide eyes. The monster was now tearing at the weaving with its teeth in an enraged attempt to seize Chemura.
The Earthman placed the knife between his teeth and scrambled frantically back on board. He stumbled towards Chemura as the girl barely dodged the kaykor’s thrusting sting. The girl, gritting her teeth against the stabbing pain of her ankle, dodged the lashing tail. Chemura flung herself prostrate upon the cane, directly above the monster’s torso. She thrust her arm through the latticework of the gondola, intending to stab the horror in the belly.
The kaykor arched away from the thrust. Her strike fell short by an inch. The monster’s barbed tail again shot through the lattice. It curved down in a deadly strike, aiming for her back. Eddington flung himself on the appendage. He grabbed the envenomed sting at its base, violently hauled it aside. The barb missed Chemura, but now the horror’s head burst through the gnawed keel of the gondola.
Chemura, on all fores, scrambled away from the clashing of its toothy jaws. She saw Eddington struggling with the squirming tail. Its violent wriggling threatened to fling him overboard. The girl crawled to his side, began sawing through the sting’s base with her knife.
The monster hissed in pain and rage. Its furious writhing shook the gondola. Its fearsome jaws tore at the cane as it sought to devour its tormentors. Eddington caught glimpses of the damage as he wrestled with the kaykor. The gondola was badly damaged. In moments it would be torn asunder by the raging beast. And then there was the other danger: Their craft was rapidly sinking under the monster’s weight. If they didn’t die between its slavering jaws they’d be splatted on the ground.
With a final hack Chemura cut through the sting. She hurled it with all her might at the kaykor’s head. The barb lodged in the monster’s eye. It roared in pain, let go and tumbled to the ground as the balloon, freed of its dragging weight, shot skyward. The horror managed to turn its wild plunge into a swooping glide just above the forest. But half blind it badly misjudged distance - the beast crashed head first into a tree taller than the rest. Thus ended its savage life.
Chemura knelt beside Eddington where he had fallen, jerked down to the weaving as he’d still been clinging to the kaykor when it tumbled.
“I’m not badly hurt. But are you all right,” she worriedly inquired.
“I’m in better shape than the netting,” he replied. “Can it be fixed?”
“I’ve got spare cane. If you’re okay we’ll stare repairs right now.”
**********
Four days had passed without significant incidents. The cane fabric of the gondola had been successfully repaired and Chemura’s ankle had healed, but food and water were running low as the girl hadn’t planned for Eddington’s presence aboard her craft, and the circumstances of their hasty departure had prevented the procurement of additional supplies.
The Earthman looked curiously down upon the landscape they now passed over. If he’d estimated correctly their speed, at the impetus of a regular wind, had averaged about 8 miles an hour, which meant they could have traversed as much as 768 miles.
The scenery was largely unchanged - one of forested hills and river valleys. But now the hills were becoming lower and the rivers were merging into a mighty watercourse, one that snaked its way between the diminishing knolls as it flowed to the glittering expanse of an azure sea - the Gulf of Mutor - where it formed a marshy miasmatic delta.
Eddington turned his glance to the distant sweep of the sparkling gulf on whose further shore lay Thanor, the homeland of Chemura’s people. He wondered what kind of reception they’d receive. Chemura had been reticent to reveal much information about her mother, Usumara, except that she was a brilliant inventor. Did Chemura have surviving relatives, and what position did they occupy in society? His companion’s secrecy deeply puzzled him, but the Earthman was polite enough not to pry.
The girl’s voice broke into his many speculations.
“We’ll have to descend and re-provision,” she announced. “We don’t have enough supplies to make the ocean crossing, which I think will take at least five days if the wind maintains its steadiness. I’ll try and bring us down on the shore’s open space. The crowding trees do not permit a forest landing.”
Eddington agreed. He now knew something of their strange craft’s operation. Chemura would make a small puncture in the plant’s bladder. The escaping gas, which he suspected was hydrogen, would reduce their buoyancy and they’d descend. Upon touchdown they’d anchor the balloon-plant with ropes and stakes and re-provision. After a few days the plant’s bladder would have healed and the escaped gas replenished by the growth. Then, with restored buoyancy, they could resume their journey.
Hours passed. The shore drew nearer and Chemura judged it was time to vent their craft’s lifting gas. The bladder was carefully punctured and the hiss of escaping hydrogen heralded their descent.
The steady wind carried them onwards as their altitude gradually decreased, and as the ocean’s shoreline neared Eddington saw a large peninsula jutting out like a crooked finger into the Gulf of Mutor’s glittering expanse. The Earthman’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked upon the headland. Was that a city his straining gaze beheld? He drew Chemura’s attention to the thing.
The girl, with her sharper vision, confirmed his suspicions.
“It can’t be Thanor,” exclaimed Chemura, puzzled. “My mother made it clear that our city lies across the gulf. She made no mention of this habitation. The wind may have carried us in a different direction than the one she took on her outward journey.”
“Maybe,” replied Eddington. “But if the wind keeps us on our current heading we’ll pass above the habitation. Then you’ll know for sure. If it’s Thanor we can descend. The problem is that regardless we’ll be forced to land. Without provisions we can’t let the wind carry us out to sea, and these unknown people might prove hostile.”
With the passing of about an hour they were roughly 400 feet above the outskirts of the city. The aeronauts looked curiously down upon the habitation’s broad and twisting streets of cobble. The buildings were of timber construction, the wood being a rich mahogany hue. The houses were cubical in form with steep A-frame roofs of thatch and all round verandas. Each home was raised on limestone posts to a height of about six feet, the open area beneath being paved with flagstones.
Timber pillars elaborately carved with grotesque masks, rather than walls, were the load bearing elements, with light panels of woven and lacquered cane set between them. Windows and doorways were strangely shaped, the frames of both reminding the Earthman of the Greek letter Omega (Ω).
Many of the houses were partially hidden by the spreading boughs of strange trees that lined the snaking streets. These cultivated growths, standing twice as tall as the buildings of the city, possessed a bark of pastel rainbow hues. These tints were of blue, orange, red and purple, and their beauty constantly changed as old bark peeled off in strips to reveal new colors and patterns. The crown of the trees was mushroom shaped. The aloe-like leaves, lime green in color with white mottling, were densely packed.
“It’s definitely not Thanor,” announced Chemura. “The architecture, the trees, the plan of the city - its nothing like what my mother described in detail.”
“Then it’s just as well that we’re still high up,” replied Eddington. “Look, we’ve been spotted.”
Chemura saw there was a growing commotion in the streets. Someone had shouted, pointed. Others had looked up in response. People were pouring out of houses in reaction to the sound of voices raised in consternation. Some stared, others were milling about in frightened ferment. Somewhere, an alarm gong voiced its brassy cry and in mere minutes the entire city was in a state of contagious agitation.
An arrow shot up. It missed Eddington, punctured the plant’s bladder. The Earthman swore. Escaping gas hissed. Other arrows flew skyward. Chemura cried in fright and pain as one grazed her thigh. Their craft was struck multiple times. Gas was now rapidly escaping and with its loss their balloon was quickly dropping into the middle of a veritable hornet’s nest, much the the terror of its frightened occupants.
As the stricken balloon descended the flights of arrows decreased for the bowmen, to their amazement, saw its occupants were not unlike themselves. The strange flying thing was not some unknown and terrifying monster of the air as they had thought.
But the danger was far from over for Eddington and his companion. The stricken balloon sank further, crashed against a tree. A suspension rope, weakened by a slashing arrow, broke. The gondola dropped. Chemura screamed in fright. Eddington swore. Both managed to retain their grip upon the latticework as they dangled perilously mid-air.
The giant bladder sagged as more gas escaped. Its envelope hung precariously from a branch. The gondola swung violently, nearly flinging the clinging aeronauts to their death. Below, a crowd was gathering, staring, pointing, babbling in an unknown tongue.
A crack drew Eddington’s frightened gaze. The branch from which they hung was breaking. In but moments they would fatally plunge to the the hard cobbles.
“Climb down the goldola,” he cried to Chemura. “We must get as low as possible. Hurry.”
Both began a hasty descent. Below bows were raised, arrows drawn. The couple felt in the very midst of death. Another snap cracked out like a gunshot. The branch sagged dangerously. The crowd drew back. Eddington and the girl increased the rapidity of their frantic descent.
They gained the broken suspension cable, which dangled about ten feet from the street. Chemura shinned down it. Eddington quickly followed. The girl dropped to the ground as the branch broke completely. The Earthman cried in fright as he plunged. Chemura caught him, sprinted clear. Balloon and branch crashed down heavily on the spot they’d been but seconds ago.
Chemura set Eddington on his feet as the wary crowd surrounded them. The Earthman looked worriedly at the ensnaring circle of humanoid beings. The males average height was about six feet and their physiques athletic. Their navy blue skin was smooth with a dark orange leopard pattern. There was no sign of scales and their scalps were covered in short black fur. Their large eyes were amber in color as were their lips. They were clad in white loincloths. Leather sandals completed their simple apparel.
The women were similarly clad. Chemura’s four breasts aroused startled comment among them, for they possessed but two. Their bodies, like those of the men, were of an athletic build. Their colouration, however, was the reverse of the males - dark orange skin with a navy blue leopard pattern.
An elderly man stepped forward from the murmuring crowd who had parted submissively at his approach. He differed from the rest considerably. Eddington gasped in amazement for his appearance was entirely human. His head was covered in black hair streaked with gray. His skin and eyes were brown. If he was clad in Western clothes he could have walked down any street on Earth without comment.
The man wore a headband of blue beads that marked his authority. He turned to the crowd and uttered commands in an unknown tongue. They bowed low and silently dispersed, except for six native bowmen who stood guard. Eddington noticed that Chemura was staring at the fellow intently.
“What is it?” he asked.
“That man,” she gasped. “He is of my mother’s people.”
Eddington was shocked. He’d assumed without asking that Chemura’s mother had been a member of an alien race, not human. The astounding revelation left his mind whirling for a moment. Then he thought of the strange circle of stones that had mysteriously brought him to this world. If it could transport him to another planet, then why not other humans? Indeed, the man’s appearance suggested he was related to Australia’s indigenous people.
Chemura called out to the fellow in Thanoran, her mother’s tongue, (it was quite different to the language of the Wagaman people of Chillago, which indicated that thousands of years had passed since the arrival of Aborigines on this world of Annthor) and now it was the stranger’s turn to be surprised. He approached with cautious curiosity, two warriors by his side to act as bodyguards.
He spoke to Chemura and they held a lengthy conversation. Eddington could understand a few words. The girl had been teaching him her mother’s language in perpetration for his meeting with her people. It seemed that the fellow’s name was Aytaktha, and that they were to accompany him somewhere. But that was all he could comprehend at the moment.
Their discourse concluded, Chemura turned to Eddington and spoke.
“Aytaktha will take us to the Temple of the Living God,” she explained. “Serahapan, the ruler of this city, Payas, is conducting a ceremony there. I’ve explained our origins and that my mother was of his people. Serahapan will want to see us.”
At Aytaktha’s beckoning they set off down the cobbled street that led towards the city’s centre, the six alert guards, the ones who had shot down their balloon, falling in step behind them. As they walked Chemura explained to Eddington what she’d learned so far, which was in essence this: Many hundreds of years ago Thanor, the city of Chemura’s mother, had been riven by a factional dispute as twin brothers - Samtaz and Hanzen - vied for possession of the throne.
Samtaz had been the victor of the struggle and, loathe to kill his brother, had sent Hanzen and his followers into exile. After many days of perilous journey across the Gulf of Mutor, beset on every side by fearsome sea-beasts, the banished ones and their families at last arrived at Payas which, in those distant days had been but a simple fishing village.
The stone age natives, who called themselves the Inkunu, which simply meant ‘The People’, were quickly conquered by the invader’s more advanced steel weaponry, and it was with this slave labour that the modern city of Payas had been built.
To Eddington it was a grim tale of conquest and exploitation, and he wondered what fate awaited them. As they’d progressed along the way the Earthman couldn’t help but notice how the Inkunu subserviently bowed to Aytaktha as he passed arrogantly by.
It was clear that the natives were still at the bottom of the social ladder, and the fear in their eyes clearly showed they were being kept there. How this was accomplished wasn’t obvious at the moment. There was no sign of whip bearing overseers. The guards were Inkunu, no doubt a favoured elite. They were armed. They could rebel against their masters, who were probably fewer in number than the native population. Why didn’t they overthrow their oppressors?
Eddington’s speculations were interrupted by their emergence into a plaza at whose far end was a large timber building that could only be their destination - the Temple of the Living God.
The structure was built on a square stone platform of bluish rock, its sides measuring approximately 300 feet. The platform rose to a height of 7 feet, with broad bifurcated stairs on the end facing the plaza. The party was soon mounting the treads and quickly gained the upper surface where Eddington could more closely see the temple proper.
The edifice was also built on a square plan whose sides were about 200 feet in length. It was surrounded by a broad colonnade of timber pillars approximately 60 feet in height, each column carved with grotesque masks whose purpose, like the carvings of the other buildings, was to repel evil spirits. Thatch clad the pyramidal roof.
The walls sheltered by the colonnade were of floor to ceiling lattice set between load bearing pillars, each about ten feet apart. The apertures of the substantial lattice were inset with intricate diamond shaped parquetry to create a solid gap free structure. The entrance was omega-shaped and through this broad arch they stepped. A large crowd, tightly packed, was gathered in the eerie silence, and Aytaktha bid them wait near the entrance as the ceremony, led by Serahapan, was about to commence.
Eddington gazed curiously at the far wall of the temple. Here, a high semicircular podium had been constructed. An alcove had been set into the rear of it, and in the centre of the alcove stood a huge bronze brazier taking the form of a shallow flat-bottomed bowel with tripod legs.
Flaming oil filled the bowel, casting its lurid light upon the scene. To the left of the brazier stood Serahapan, naked but for a loincloth, his face hidden by an outlandish mask of beaten gold that strangely glowed with the disquieting luminescence of the crimson fire. Two attendant priests stood next to him along with a naked and terrified Inkunu woman, her bound wrists hoisted above her head and hooked to a crane-like mechanism attached to a ceiling joist.
Musicians, offstage, began to strike their drums - softly at first, then with increasing vigour until the beat became a wild crescendo that filled the temple with throbbing sound and booming echoes.
The priest-king, with a dramatic gesture, cast balls of incense into the brazier. Voluminous clouds of pungent smoke billowed forth, rising up to the exposed ceiling joists and rafters of the roof. Serahapan began a ululating summoning cry whose eeriness made Eddington’s nape hairs stand erect. Chemura drew closer to him and he placed his arm about her shoulders as the temple’s atmosphere grew thick with the electric fear of the expectant worshipers.
The throbbing drums reached their ecstatic climax. Chemura gasped as a satanic face appeared in the billowing smoke erupting from the flsming brazier. Eddington’s hairs rose further at the sight of the unearthly apparition. His hand unconsciously tightened on his companion, drawing her protectively closer to him as the crowd moaned in trembling terror at the sight of the terrifying manifestation. The drums ceased. In the dramatic silence the awed congregation fell to their knees, foreheads pressed hard to the stones in abject submissive fright.
The glaring eyes of the manifestation slowly traversed the quaking worshipers, its demonic visage twisting into a sneer of arrogant contempt. The apparition’s fulgent unnerving stare came to rest on Eddington and his companion. A chill and ghostly voice broke the breathless silence. It seemed to come from everywhere at once as it uttered divine commands.
Eddington and Chemura, far from eager, were forced down the central isle that led towards the podium. The Earthman’s mind was a tangle of frightened confused speculations. He wasn’t a firm believer in the supernatural, but the unearthly apparition, the eerie atmosphere of the temple and the infectious fear of the congregation all combined to interfere with rational thought.
They mounted the steps of the podium and in moments reluctantly stood before the Satanic visage that peered malevolently forth from the depths of swirling smoke. Eddington tensed at the horrid unnerving sight. The frightening manifestation consumed his entire attention. He did not see the priest-king’s eyes lingering on Chemura’s naked breasts, nor the subtle gesture that he made.
Again the chill and ghostly voice of the apparition spoke in the Inkunu tongue.
“The strange woman finds favour in my eyes. She shall also become my bride. Bind her to the other sacrifice. I, Shabnok, your god, command it.”
Upon its orders the accompanying guards seized Chemura. She cried in fright, her voice breaking the spell upon the Earthman. Swiftly, sensing looming and terrible evil, he leaped to her defence. A wild melee instantly exploded. Eddington flung off one assailant, slammed his fist into another. Chemura was far from idle. The girl rammed her elbow into one attacker, kneed another in the groin.
Serahapan shrilly screamed orders. The two attendant priests joined the fray; others rushed in from the wings and hurled themselves into the wild fight. Chemura and Eddington battled valiantly. Attackers fell to flying fists and feet. But despite these heroic efforts both were soon overcome by their opponent’s weight of numbers. The Earthman was hurled to the floor buy three foemen, pinned to the ground. Chemura was carried kicking and screaming towards the Inkunu woman. It took five battered guards to bind her breast to breast with the other victim.
Order was soon restored. Serahapan regained his poise. He raised his arms in adoration to the the leering manifestation, who all the while had looked on in silent and contemptuous amusement at the antics of its victims. The priest-king began an eerie chant. Behind the scenes men hauled on a rope. The terrified women were hoisted into the air, swung high over the flaming brazier.
Chemura looked at Eddington imploringly. The Earthman struggled mightily, cursed the guards who held him down. He raged desperately but impotently against their pinning strength. Then the weird cantillate reached its dark climax.
The horrid face looked up. Its grinning jaws gaped wide. The hoist’s release mechanism was actuated. The screaming women were dropped. Eddington’s horrified cry echoed that of the victims as they plunged into the blazing brazier, into the gaping satanic maw of the dreadful apparition. Roaring flames erupted, smoke billowed voluminously, and when it cleared both face and women were nowhere to be seen.
Two hours had passed since the horrifying events of the temple. Eddington, sick with shock and grief, had been dragged from the building and immediately set to work as a slave in the fields of the city.
Now, he stooped over another ovoid squash-like knobby fruit, black in color and about three feet in length. With a clumsy twist he broke the stem, partially uprooting the parent vine. An overseer saw his ineptness. A whipping cane struck the Earthman across the back and he stumbled, nearly falling to the ground.
Eddington bit back a cry of pain and rage as he placed the hard shelled fruit in a cart with the rest. The other slaves - prisoners convicted of minor crimes - continued to work mechanically, brutalized to the point where they paid little heed to the suffering of others, immersed as they were in their own misery.
Eddington shuddered as he set to work harvesting another growth. How long would it be before he ended up like them? He vowed to escape the brutal servitude and the dreary back breaking work. But he didn’t intend to flee. The Earthman threw a quick glance at the city, thinking of Chemura.
Was she truly dead - instantly vaporized by the raging sacrificial fire of a demonic entity? Before, he’d been in a state of shock, but now that that had largely worn off he could think more clearly. The hard labour was repetitively monotonous, but while his body was on automatic his mind was free to speculate. He didn’t believe in the supernatural. He couldn’t accept that Chemura was dead. It was all too fantastic for him to believe. There must be a natural explanation for what he had witnessed, but what? Clearly, he must investigate the temple.
Another thing that puzzled him was the amazing lack of curiosity of his captors. Didn’t they want to know where he was from, or the nature of the conveyance he’d arrived in? He couldn’t believe they were that uninquisitive. Chemura could speak the language of the elite. If she wasn’t dead they could question her. Perhaps that’s why they didn’t try and question him - because she was still alive despite all indications to the contrary.
Eddington again looked about, clinging to that hope. There were no more than a dozen slaves working in this area of the field. The three controlling overseers were armed with more than canes for beating slaves. Each possessed a heavy two handed cudgel spiked with iron points. Eddington didn’t like his chances. The other slaves would no doubt flee if an opportunity to escape arose, but the Earthman sensed he couldn’t rely on them to assist in overpowering their masters. They were too cowed for that.
Time passed. The Earthman plotted. A chill wind began to rise, and the sky began to darken. The unexpected change of weather caused Eddington to pause in his work. He noticed both overseers and fellow slaves looking nervously heavenward as menacing clouds began to roll across the firmament with alarming rapidity under the impetus of a strong wind.
Overseers shouted orders. The slaves hurriedly loaded the remaining produce into the cart. Eddington was struck across the back, shoved towards the wagon. He, along with the other chattels grabbed its ropes and began to haul. The sky grew darker. The sun was blotted out, plunging the land into blackness. A fork of livid lightning split the sky, briefly illuminating the fields with its sizzling flare. Thunder cracked like a fusillade of cannons. Then the rain began to fall in chill and drenching torrents.
The slaves struggled to haul the cart through the now sodden soil, its weight added to by the overseers who had climbed aboard to avoid trudging through the mud. Eddington gazed up at them angrily. Lightening flashed and in the flare he clearly saw that all their hair stood on end despite its wetness. The Earthman paled at the sight. It was a sign that a tremendous electrical charge permeated the atmosphere.
Eddington bolted from the cart. An overseer shouted, was about to leap down in pursuit. Then a sizzling flare of intense bluish light enveloped the scene. Time seemed to slow down, accompanied by a sensation of weightlessness. This was then followed by a deafening explosion which hurled the Earthman violently to the ground…
Eddington groaned and opened his eyes. After a time he managed to struggle to his feet. The rain still pelted down in drenching torrents. It washed the mud from his shaken body as he looked about. The cart had taken the full force of the lightning strike. The charred corpses of the overseers lay strewn about, along with several dead slaves. The survivors had fled, taking advantage of the catastrophe. Apparently, it was each man for himself as no one had bothered to check to see if Eddington was still alive.
The Earthman, too, seized the moment. He began to trudge through the swampy now deserted fields towards the city and its temple. The storm would wash away his footprints, and when a search for the escaped slaves was mounted it would be in the direction away from Payas. No one would expect a fleeing chattel to willingly return to the metropolis.
It was exhausting work fighting the clinging mud and the battering of the raging wind and rain. Eddington fell more times than he cared to remember, but each time he managed to regain his feet and pressed on. At last he gained the city’s perimeter and made his way through the deserted gale swept streets. A tree came crashing down, nearly crushing him with its massive weight. A lightening flare revealed the temple. The sight spurred Eddington, lifting his spirits and quickening his flagging feet.
With further struggle he ascended the stairway, gained the building’s portico and collapsed in the sheltering lee of a towering pillar. Here, he rested for a time as he slowly recovered his strength, ruminating on how to gain entrance to the locked temple. Eddington’s roving gaze focused on the timber pillars, intermittently visible in the glare of lightening flashes. They were covered in leering masks of intricate bas-relief that would provide many hand and footholds.
On either side of each column adjacent to its capital was a large circular clearstory window. These had been closed during the ceremony to darken the temple, but were now open to vent the pungent smell of burnt incense. The climb would be difficult and dangerous - one slip and Eddington knew he’d plunge to his death.
Undeterred, determined as ever to discover Chemura’s fate, the Earthman rested for a few more minutes and then commenced his ascent. The climb was difficult, made more so by obscuring gloom, and on several occasions he came close to falling as his wet and groping hands momentarily lost purchase. But at last, trembling with the strain of exertion he gained the window and straddled its circular frame, waiting a while as he recovered his breath.
The storm by now had eased. From his perch the Earthman saw, in the growing light, that the building was deserted as he had suspected. Unlike a church, which was open to the public, access to the temple was tightly controlled as it would be if the priesthood had something to conceal. Further scrutiny of the interior revealed no obvious threat, and as Eddington felt his limbs had regained sufficient vigor he began his descent of the inner column. Shortly, he gained the floor without mishap, much to his considerable relief.
Eddington was soon standing next to the huge brazier into which Chemura and the other sacrificial victim had been dropped, and up close the priesthood’s trickery was instantly exposed. The brazier was not a bowel as it appeared from distance. It was instead a trough-like ring, with the burning oil confined to its circumference. The centre was hollow like a doughnut with a trapdoor beneath.
Plate glass mirrors filled the space between the tripod legs of the brazier, and reflected the side walls of the alcove in which it stood, creating the illusion that the viewer was seeing through the legs to the rear wall beyond, thus concealing the hidden V-shaped space and its trapdoor. When Chemura had been dropped she and the other woman had vanished through the aperture, but no one had seen this because of the reflective illusion created by the mirrors. Thus both had mysteriously vanished, as if consumed by the devilish god conjured up by the deceptive priest-king.
Further exploration by the Earthman revealed how the illusion of the devil-god was created. A lens was set in the rear wall of the alcove, and behind this wall Eddington correctly guessed was a complex system of concave mirrors that reflected an actor’s features, heavily made up, and projected them through the lens onto the smoke from the brazer, which acted like a movie screen. It was an ingenious system, but well within the technological capabilities of a pre-industrial people.
The Earthman was elated. It all meant Chemura was still alive. Such an elaborate ruse wouldn’t be necessary if death was desired of the ‘sacrifices’. But how to find his companion? He gazed again into the ring-shaped brazier and was suddenly beset by a feeling of growing urgency that dampened his previous exhilaration.
Was it some sixth sense warning him of danger, or merely an artifact of his own imagination? Eddington couldn’t be sure, but the feeling was now so strong that it spurred him to action without thought of any peril to himself. In an instant he had vaulted the brazier’s rim and landed on the trapdoor, which gave beneath his weight.
Eddington plunged through the aperture, and fell heavily some ten feet below the temple. His sturdy legs absorbed the impact and the Earthman found himself in a small square room illuminated by a single oil lamp. The dim light disclosed that it was empty, and could only be exited by a single passageway.
The quiet was suddenly broken by feminine screams echoing down the narrow corridor. Eddington gasped. His sense of urgency had been no illusion. The Earthman charged into the deserted way and sped along its gloomy length. In mere moments he came to a doorway from which additional cries broke forth. He peered within and beheld a sight that fired him with rage.
Chemura and the inkunu woman were bound side by side. Both were cruelly hung spread-eagle by chains from floor and ceiling, and before them stood Serahapan, grinning with perverse delight as he lewdly groped his writhing, screaming victims with sadistic viciousness. The monster wrenched a final cry of agony from his captives who then fainted from the pain.
Eddington, galvanized by the awful sight, sprung across the threshold and charged towards the girls’ debased tormentor. But in his haste,spurred by rage, he’d leaped before he’d looked, and hadn’t seen two guards standing out of sight within the room.
The shouting warriors raced to intercept the sprinting Earthman. Startled, Serahapan spun round at their warning cry. His eyes went wide. Eddington’s speeding fist filled his vision for a second. Then it cracked the priest-king’s wooden mask with the power of the blow, and flung the pervert senseless to the floor.
For a brief moment Eddington stood triumphantly above his downed opponent, then the guards, swords drawn, were upon him and he was fighting for his life. The Earthman ducked one slashing blade. He rammed his shoulder against the fellow’s torso in a blow that winded his attacker and made him drop his sword.
The second warrior came at Eddington in a wild rush. The Earthman hoisted his debilitated opponent. He flung the injured man against the charging foe. Both enemies went down in a hard fall. Eddington grabbed the first man’s sword from the floor and came at his fallen assailants. It was either kill or be killed.
The Earthman’s blade swept down. Hard steel split one guard’s skull. But the second man lashed out with a brutal kick before Eddington could strike again. The warrior’s sandalled foot smashed against the Earthman’s shin. Eddington howled, dropped his blade and tumbled to the floor.
In an instant the surviving warrior leaped at him, blade swinging. The Earthman rolled aside. Steel sparked on stone. Eddington swung a leg and tripped his foe. The warrior fell, lost his sword. Both men then grappled desperately. Clawing fingers sought Eddington’s eyes. He sank his teeth into his opponent’s hand. The bitten guard screamed, headbutted the Earthman, tore his hand free from loosened jaws. Eddington fought through pain. He managed to elbow his assailant. The stunned man collapsed. The Earthman caught his foe’s neck in a crushing choke-hold and began to strangle him remorselessly.
Thus occupied Eddington didn’t see Serahapan begin to stir. The priest-king struggled to his knees. His eyes narrowed as they focused on the Earthman, whom he recognized. Serahapan’s face became a twisted thing of utter hate. The monster, fueled by rage, caught up the guard’s fallen sword. He sprang with all the speed and stealth of a leaping tiger at the unsuspecting Earthman, his blade plunging down in a vicious stab towards Eddington’s unprotected back.
As the enraged priest-king’s blade swept down in a lethal plunge Chemura regained consciousness. The dreadful sight tore a piercing scream of fear from her. His companion’s warning, though incoherent, was enough to alert the Earthman. Eddington turned just in time to see the danger. He flung himself aside and stabbing steel thrust through the man he’d been strangling.
Serahapan cursed. His sword had lodged in the corpse’s ribs. Letting go he leaped at Eddington, a wild oath upon his lips and tried to kick the Earthman in the head. Eddington managed to grab his foot with both hands. He yanked mightily. The priest-king’s vile words became a yelp of pain as he crashed upon the floor. Eddington was on him in an instant, raining hammering blows upon his enemy’s face and head with such ferocity that they drove him into dark unconsciousness.
“Enough,” cried Chemura. “He is valueless to us dead. We can use him as a hostage. More guards might come at any moment.”
Her sensible words broke through the Earthman’s wild rage. Breathing hard Eddington climbed off his senseless opponent and hurriedly approached Chemura, silently upbraiding himself for his loss of self-control. An examination of his companion’s bonds revealed two buttons on her manacles that, when pressed simultaneously unlocked the cuffs. In but moments Eddington had freed the woman along with the other female prisoner.
The Inkunu woman regained consciousness as they were easing her to the floor. She struggled wildly for a moment, then settled just a little when she saw the battered priest-king stretched out senseless upon the stones.
“It’s all right,” soothed Chemura in Thanoran. “We’re not going hurt you. I am Chemura, and my friend’s name is John. Can you understand me?”
The girl’s wild look eased further and she spoke, her voice still somewhat shaky from her horrible ordeal. Chemura, though also similarly affected was better at mastering her emotions as required by their perilous situation.
“Yes,” she replied. “I can speak the language of the Lords. But how is it that you, an obvious stranger, are familiar with the tongue of our oppressors?” she asked suspiciously.
“I will explain everything,” reassured Chemura. “But not here. There isn’t time. We must retreat to a secure location with Serahapan as a hostage. Would I suggest these things if I was in league with his people?”
The girl, Sewaru by name, thought for a moment. “I suppose not,” she replied, coming to a decision. “I have a friend who will hide us. I will take you to him.”
“We are grateful for your help,” replied Chemura. She turned to Eddington, who had been intently trying to follow the conversation. But the explanation on her lips became a gasp of complete dismay for Serahapan was nowhere to be seen. The wily priest-king had been playing possum, and had escaped during the distracting conversation.
Eddington turned, following his companion’s alarmed stare. He swore and mentally kicked himself for a fool. He should have immediately bound his captive. Self-recrimination, though, was pointless. At any moment a troop of guards might come charging down upon them. They had to get out of here.
“We’ll escape the same way I came in,” he explained to Chemura. “It’s the only sure path that I know. This way, quickly now.”
Both women first clad themselves in the guards’ raiment. The slight delay had Eddington champing at the bit. From his perspective every second counted. Two women dressed in the bloodstained clothes of men would attract just as much attention as they would running naked through the streets. Wisely, though, he held his tongue in check.
Modesty now restored, both women quickly followed Eddington out the door and down the passageway. In mere seconds the escapees entered the room beneath the temple’s brazier. Eddington swiftly climbed on Chemura’s shoulders as she was the stronger of the women. He then pulled the trapdoor open, scrambled out and thrust his arm back in.
“Chemura, grab my hand,” he said. “I’ll haul you through.”
In moments the woman joined him. Then Sewaru leaped and caught the couple’s extended hands. Swiftly, she too, was pulled within the temple. The sound of racing feet coming down the passageway made the trio start. The temple guards had been alerted and were now in swift pursuit.
The escapees leaped across the brazier’s rim. They charged towards the temple door. Eddington jerked back the securing bolt and in mere seconds all three were out the open way. Down the slippery stairs they raced, the treads made treacherous by the falling rain which, though no longer torrential, was still significant.
Swearu led them through the still deserted streets. As they turned a corner Eddington threw a glance behind him and glimpsed dim figures racing out the temple door and mill about in confusion. He prayed the heavy rain had cloaked him and his companions from their sight.
The trio fled via a convoluted route down the twisting streets of cobble, at last arriving at a dwelling near the outskirts of the city. The escapees paused beneath it to catch their breath after the frenetic race, and as they did all three looked warily about.
The building was much like the other domestic habitations. The house was of timber construction, the wood being a rich mahogany hue. It was cubical in form with a steep A-frame roof of thatch and an all round veranda. Like the other dwellings it was raised on limestone posts to a height of about six feet, the open area beneath where the trio rested being paved with flagstones.
Timber pillars elaborately carved with grotesque masks, rather than walls, were the load bearing elements, with light panels of woven and lacquered cane set between them. Windows and doorways were strangely shaped, the frames of both reminding the Earthman of the Greek letter Omega (Ω).
Having caught her breath Sewaru spoke to Chemura. “The rain is easing further. Soon, people will be about the streets to check for storm damage. We’d best climb the stairs and seek sanctuary with my friend.”
The escapees ascended and soon stood by the oddly shaped door. Sewaru used its heavy bronze knocker to announce their arrival. Shortly, the portal swung inwards to reveal a young man, not an Inkunu but a human, standing on its threshold. The fellow’s dejected look changed to one of amazement as his eyes widened at the sight of Sewaru. A gasp escaped his lips and he staggered in shock, grasping the door jamb to support his reeling frame.
“You’re dead,” he cried in utter astonishment. “They forced me to watch the sacrifice at the temple.”
Sewaru embraced him. They clung together, both taking comfort in the contact as she remembered the awful sight - the look of horror and despair upon his face as he struggled furiously but uselessly against his gag, and the ropes that bound him hand and foot, willing to defy a god to save the woman he loved. A moment passed, and then she spoke:
“The religion of the priesthood is a lie, Shemnar,” she explained, calling her lover by his name. “It’s all trickery. These other people helped me escape. We are being pursued. May we seek shelter here.”
The young man was further shocked by her words. Only the priest-king and an elite inner circle knew of the deception. But there was no denying what she said must be true. The woman he embraced was undeniably alive - no ghost or corpse risen from the ashes of the sacred fire. A torrent of questions was on his lips, but he held them back. His curiosity would have to wait in the face of dire urgency.
“How could I possibly turn away the woman I love or the people who helped her,” he replied. “Come in, all of you, quickly now before you are seen. I will take you to the secret room where you can rest in safety.”
They followed the young man inside. He swiftly led them through his home, which was an open plan design, to the rear of the house where the sleeping quarters were located. They entered a bedroom and Shemnar strode to a wall. Here, he removed a woven panel to reveal that a false wall had been cunningly constructed, leaving a hidden space between it an the outer wall of the building.
“Go in,” he said. “Serahapan’s lackeys will be pounding on my door at any moment. My home is the first place they’ll search. I must clean up the betraying trail of water your dripping clothes have left.”
Shemnar replaced the panel after the trio had entered the secret room, and the fugitives found themselves in darkness relieved only by dim light filtering through the weaving. Chemura, in whispered tones and to the satisfaction of Swearu, explained her and Eddington’s origins as she had promised, concluding with this offer:
“We have mutual enemies. Let us aid you in the fight against them. This secret room suggests many things. Will you reveal all so we can help you further?”
“Yes,” replied Swaru, unhesitatingly. “By now it is obvious that Shemnar and I are more than just friends. I was given to him as a slave, but despite all differences in race and status we fell in love, and through this I was able to open his eyes to the plight of my people who are relegated to a state of servitude.
“Shemnar is a Lord of the Third Circle, a minor noble, true, but as such he has a voice in the council, and therefore is able to advocate on my people’s behalf, which he tirelessly did. Regrettably, he was largely unsuccessful. Only three other Lords out of a hundred were persuaded by his arguments for a peaceful transition to equality.
“The rest, wishing to maintain their ascendancy, vehemently opposed his suggestions for reform. The Lords have relied on the fear of the supernatural to oppress the greater population, terrorizing them with yearly ‘sacrifices’ of fair Inkunu maidens to Shabnok, who regularly proclaims that the Lords govern by divine decree and all must submit to their rule or perish. Of course we now know the entire religion is a lie whose purpose is to prevent my people from rebelling, and that the sacrifices to appease the god are instead offerings to the perverted tastes of a linage of debased tyrants.
“But there comes a point in time when the oppressor’s tyranny becomes so great that fear will no longer hold in check rebellion. When that time comes, when my people eventually rise up, there will be slaughter in the streets and the city will burn. Shemnar and I and those who support him wish to prevent this, and so we plotted to depose the current regime and replace it with one that will give freedom to all.”
“You were discovered, then?” asked Eddington for whom Chemura had been translating.
“No,” replied Sewaru. “Our plans were only in their infancy. Rather, the Lords were angered by Shemnar’s speeches. His stirring words no doubt pricked their consciences, and so they decided to silence him and thus remove this disturbing irritation. The ruling elite do not kill each other. It is not their custom. Shemnar was punished through my ‘sacrifice.’ No doubt they hoped to break his spirit with grief and thus end …”
Voices raised in argument, coming from the front of the house, ended further discourse. The trio in the secret room tensed. Sewaru gasped at the sound of a blow and a cry of pain. Frightened thoughts for Shemnar fluttered in her mind like trapped birds. She stepped towards the panel. Chemura gripped her shoulders in warning.
“We cannot help him if we are discovered,” she whispered.
Sewaru tried to calm herself, but tensed further as the heavy tramp of feet indicated searching men were spreading through the building. Some were heading for the bedroom where they hid, and in mere seconds sharp eyed warriors would be marching through the door. Would their hiding place go undetected? All the sweating escapees could do was wait in breathless silence as they worriedly crouched in one corner of the secret room.
The tramping feet came closer, nearer still. Men entered the bedroom and moved about with grim purpose. The fugitives grew more jittery by the second. An angry voice rang out. It was Shemnar’s.
“This is an outrage,” he cried. “You burst into my house without explanation, assault me when I object. What is the meaning of this? You there, I demand an answer.”
“My answer will be another blow to the head, fool,” replied a gruff voice. “Now, get out of my way.”
The sounds of a scuffle came to the ears of those hiding. Curses rang out. Then there was the smack of many fists striking, and the groans of the victim rising above the vicious blows. Sewaru buried her face in Chemura’s shoulder. She bit her lip to prevent herself from crying out in fear for Shemnar. Chemura hugged her tight. Eddington hugged them both, feeling helpless as the unseen brutality continued.
“That’s enough,” said the gruff voice. “There’s no one here but this self-important fool. Let’s away and search elsewhere.”
The warriors departed and Sewaru quickly made to remove the panel. Chemura stopped her. “It may be a trap,” she whispered. “We must wait.
Silent minutes passed, Sewaru in a state of restless anxiety over Shemnar’s untended injuries, wondering how badly he was hurt. No sound came to her ears, no movement, no moans of pain. Was he unconscious, dead?”
Someone grasped the panel. The trio tensed again. Eddington made ready to attack the unseen foes. The panel was pulled away and in the gap swayed Shemnar, bloody and bruised. Sewaru ran forward uttering a cry of distress at his state, and he collapsed into her arms.
“They’re gone for now,” he managed to mumble through swollen lips as Sewaru eased him to the floor. “I succeeded in distracting them. But no doubt my home will be watched. We must quickly leave this place.”
“But where to seek sanctuary?” asked Chemura. “Both of you, your friends and family will no doubt be spied upon as well.”
“I have an idea,” said Sewaru. “The temple isn’t big enough to hold the entire population, so the city has been divided into quarters, with each quarter on rotation to attend the ceremonies. We will flee to the third quarter - the one which witnessed our sacrifice and choose a house at random. Shemnar is well known to my people as their advocate, and the fact that we still live is proof of the falsity of the god. Hopefully, a combination of these facts will convince the occupants to shelter us and form the base of our resistance.”
“I can’t think of a better plan,” replied Eddington after the translation. “We’ll wait until dark, and then flee under the veil of night.
**********
An eventful two months had passed. It was now again night and Eddington, his skin painted in the manner of a native, crouched in the shadows along with seven Inkunu, their faces masked as was his to hide their identity. The glowing ring of the planet cast its dim light on the scene, illuminating the temple, which could be partially glimpsed from the mouth of the dark alley in which they hid.
The group tensed as the tramp of the approaching night patrol came to them, and their hands tightened on the long knives thrust through their belts. The city was still on high alert for the escapees, with random searches of homes being regularly conducted. Fortunately, a network of safe houses had been established, and thanks to informants the conspirators had managed to evade capture, albeit by the narrowest of margins.
The city was in a state of agitation caused by Serahapan’s heavy handedness. People’s homes were raided in the middle of the night without explanation, for the priest-king could hardly admit that the two sacrificial victims were still very much alive. Guards accosted people in the streets and roughly questioned them. It seemed that Serahapan was descending into paranoia, for even members of the elite had been disrespected in this manner. Such was his desperation to find those that could expose the religious lie upon which his rule was founded.
Eddington, now conversant in Thanoran, turned to Enkan, the kindly man on whose door they had knocked, and who had given them shelter in their time of desperate need.
“The patrol has passed. It’s time to act. Pass the message on.”
The task done, men burst forth from the alley and sprinted for the temple. A shout cut the night with its wild cry as they madly dashed up the building’s stairway. Eddington was in the lead. He stifled a curse and saved his breath for running.
A warrior charged at him as he gained the platform’s height. The Earthman ducked the swinging sword, rammed the fellow with his shoulder, flinging him violently to the stones which cracked his skull. Eddington’s companions pounded up the treads in swift example. They fanned out around the building as the patrol who’d spotted them raced towards the temple.
Eddington quickly doffed his wicker backpack and from it pulled a fist size pot - one of seven. Another guard came at him from the shadows of the temple’s colonnade. The Earthman lit the wick protruding from the pot with hot coals in another jar. He swiftly hurled the fire bomb at his rushing foe. It struck the man and exploded in a whoosh of flame. The hapless fellow screamed, fell burning to the ground where he writhed in utter agony.
The Earthman lit more bombs and madly hurled them at the the hateful temple. They burst against its walls. The sticky viscous fluid, much like napalm, caught instantly alight and began to burn with utter fury. All around the temple similar scenes were being enacted by Eddington’s companions. In but moments a dozen small fires, fanned by the night wind, had grown to a raging conflagration well beyond extinguishing as age old wood fueled the tongues of leaping flame.
The lurid light of the fiercely burning building disclosed the look of horror on the faces of the charging guards. Cries of consternation burst forth as the patrol stumbled to a halt upon the temple stairs and gazed in utter disbelief at the destruction being wrought before them.
Eddington’s men, their work done, raced to join him. Knives drawn they charged down the stairway and crashed against the guards in a wave of flying steel. Blades sparked against blades, men screamed, died. Several of Eddington’s companions fell, then the survivors were through their disconcerted enemies and fleeing by diverse routes into the night. Behind them the temple’s roaring blaze began to wake the city’s populace, who would find a very different world in the morning.
**********
It was shortly after sunrise. A huge crowd had gathered in the plaza. The silent throng gazed in disbelief at the smoldering remains of the temple, which had collapsed in upon itself and now lay in utter ruination.
Serahapan was at the forefront of the throng. He stood on the temple stairs above the crowd, the tremendous heat of the glowing coals preventing him from fully ascending to the summit of the platform. The priest-king was in a state of barely concealed agitation. He didn’t want to face the crowd; to explain why Shabnok couldn’t prevent the destruction of his sacred tabernacle. On the other hand as priest-king he couldn’t hide. His position proclaimed him as mouthpiece of the god. The people, both Inkunu and human, would demand an explanation.
Serahapan ground his teeth in impotent rage. He knew who was responsible, but he could hardly reveal the truth as this would expose the religious sham that kept him in power. He turned to the crowd and saw that the throng was becoming restless as they waited for an answer. The priest-king’s glance shifted to the line of guards at the bottom of the stairs. There were a hundred of them, but even so they were hugely outnumbered by the mass of Inkunu.
The priest-king began to sweat. Without the trickery of the temple’s cunning devices the illusion of divine power was ended. And so dependant on it had he and his kind become that it had led to the ossification of imagination. Serahapan had come to the ruined temple seeking inspiration, but try as he might he couldn’t think of a plausible lie that could explain away the disaster all could plainly see.
A disturbance in the crowd drew his worried gaze. Wedges of Inkunu men were forcing their way swiftly to the fore, their faces stamped with grim determination as they shouted: “Make way, make way.”
Serahapan cursed. More trouble was now at hand. He yelled a warning to his men. One guard sounded a horn. Its brassy blare would swiftly summon reinforcements from every quarter of the city. The other warriors quickly drew their blades. The throng fell back in fright at the sight of menacing steel. A ripple of agitation swept the mass. A sense of impending violence was in the air. The multitude parted before the advancing Inkunu, not wishing to be touched by the looming confrontation. In but moments, the way made clear, the native fighters stood before the nervous guards.
Serahapan grinned. The fools were unarmed and his warriors outnumbered them two to one.
“Attack,” he gleefully cried.
But his smile was short lived. As his warriors charged the Inkunu the natives swiftly drew small clay globes concealed beneath their loincloths and hurled them at his guards. The spheres burst, drenching them in deadly poison which quickly took effect. Men fell screaming, convulsing violently as their skins absorbed the noxious apsu venom.
The surviving warriors were thrown in to a state of utter panic. They leaped clear of their thrashing companions to avoid contamination. In mere seconds the disciplined line was utterly disorganized. The attacking Inkunu took full advantage of the chaos. They drew concealed knives and wildly fell upon the surviving foe. Blades flashed, men screamed, blood jetted in gory streams. The horrid sight spread more panic through the agitated throng. Those to the fore screamed in fear, wheeled in spurring fright. Their terror was communicated to the multitude, and like a chain reaction the rest began to flee.
The frightened crowd became a mindless stampeding terror driven mass. They collided with the other warriors summoned by horn. These men went down beneath the tidal wave of flesh and few escaped being trampled by the panicked mob.
From above Serahapan looked down upon the wild scene in utter disbelief. He saw the last guard fall beneath the knives of Inkunu attackers. Fear clutched the priest-king’s heart as his enemies turned hard looks upon him. Slowly, determinedly, they mounted the steps, coming for him. Serahapan fled up the stairs, but the ferocious heat from the smoldering temple ruins drove him back.
He looked around wildly. He was trapped. The lead Inkunu was now but feet away. The priest-king’s eyes went wide. Close up he saw it was Eddington, his skin still painted in the colour and pattern of a native. A step behind was another man he recognized as Shemnar, similarly disguised.
Knowing he was doomed Serahapan, a wild cry bursting from his throat, drew his dagger and leaped towards his foe in a suicidal rush. Eddington met his maddened charge. He caught the priest-king’s stabbing knife-hand by the wrist. But the momentum of his crazed opponent drove the Earthman against the railing of the stairs.
Ribs cracked. Eddington cried out. Serahapan tore free of The Earthman’s weakened grip as he sank in gasping agony to the treads. The priest-king grinned maliciously. His knife plunged down upon his foe like a flashing thunderbolt. Eddington was in so much pain he didn’t even see the coming doom.
As Serahapan struck, Shemnar leaped ferociously on the maddened priest-king, knocking him aside. Both combatants crashed upon the stairs, wrestling desperately for the possession of the dagger. Eddington managed to fight through the pain immersing him. He saw the other Inkunu rushing to aid Shemnar, who was getting the worst of it. Serahapan had him by the throat and was trying to stab him in the eye.
Eddington knew they’d never reach his friend in time. With a mighty act of will he stumbled to the grappling men and drove his fist against the base of Serahapan’s skull. The priest-king collapsed, rendered instantly unconscious by the blow. Shemnar jerked his head aside and the falling dagger cut his cheek rather than his eye. Eddington stood swaying in agony, strength spent. The rushing Inkunu arrived in time to catch him as he fell.
**********
Six weeks had elapsed and much had happened during the passing of these many days. With the threat of painful death as an incentive, the former priest-king had confessed before the gathered Inkunu and human nobles that Shabnok was nothing but a lie. The nobles, surrounded by the throng, had sense enough to see their power was irreparably broken and so capitulated, throwing themselves at the mercy of the victors, Aytaktha, chief among them vouchsafing their complete surrender.
A little more prodding with a dagger elected from Serahapan the location of his hidden seraglio, comprised of girls who had supposedly been sacrificed. Understandably, the families of the abused women were hot with the desire for revenge, but Shemnar had promised to spare Serahapan’s life if he cooperated. Therefore, he refused to turn the despot over to the mob. Fortunately, Sewaru’s intervention along with the voices of other revolutionaries managed to calm the outraged people by pointing out that a far harsher punishment was to let Serahapan, a clearly crushed man, live to endure the humiliation of his fall from the heights of power.
Eddington introduced the idea of voting, and a new council had been elected comprised of an equal number of Inkunu and human representatives. Things were still tense, but those who wanted retribution at any cost were outnumbered by the vast majority of Inkunu who saw that the promise of equality was being speedily delivered. The humans, realizing they were not about to be massacred or enslaved by their former chattels, mostly accepted the new social order. They no longer enjoyed their former status as lords and masters, true, but at least they were still alive and had representatives in the reformed government.
It was now early morning. Eddington, his ribs completely healed, stood at the end of the jetty with Chemura by his side. Before him stood Shemnar and Swearu, as well as the council of twelve.
Shemnar stepped forward. “A safe voyage to you and Chemura. May you both reach Thanor with a fair wind in your sails. Here,” he continued, passing the Earthman a sealed document. “My letter to the ruler of Thanor. As our ambassador I entrust it to your care. We have been separated from our brothers across the Gulf of Mutor for far too long - cut off by fearsome sea-beasts and impassable jungles inhabited by swarms of venomous insects. I hope my offer of friendship and trade will find favour with the ruler, whoever he or she may currently be.”
“I shall do all I can to promote your cause,” sincerely replied Eddington.
The two men gripped hands as Chemura and Sewaru embraced. The leave-taking completed, the Earthman and his companion boarded the Omayu, an outrigger galley of thirty oars under the command of captain Aynor. Lines were cast off, the oarsmen took up the beat, and the ship began moving out to sea. Eddington and Chemura stood at the stern waiving sad farewells. Free of the sheltering harbour, the sail was raised and caught the wind. The headland slowly shrank with distance. The ship grew smaller, became a child’s toy, then a dot that vanished over the far horizon.
**********
The days at sea passed without peril thanks to a recent invention. The ship’s hull was painted with a black substance that kept the fearsome ocean predators at bay. On several occasions the huge serpentine monsters, olive green in colour and gaping maws filed with terrible teeth, had come perilously close to the galley. But the repellent was effective, and the scaly horrors soon departed with a frustrated flick of their eel-like tails, much to the relief of those aboard.
Of most significance, at least to Eddington and Chemura, was the change in their relationship. The Earthman had, from the very beginning, found her fascinating. But during their time together admiration had been added to mere physical attraction. Regrettably, the growing feelings Eddington had for his companion in peril were hindered in their expression by the back to back exigencies they faced. Battling men and monsters, escaping myriad dangers and plotting revolutions were not conducive to romantic interludes, or so Eddington had found.
But on this voyage things were very different. The ocean was a calm expanse beneath Annthor’s pale lavender sky. The galley’s crew worked efficiently, leaving Eddington and his companion with little to do but relax and enjoy the vista of sea and heaven. Not even the occasional sighting of one of the huge monsters could truly shatter the peace that enfolded the ship. They were insulated from all the troubles of the world, which seemed very far away when isolated on the vastness of the sea.
Things had come to a head on the forth night of the voyage. The couple shared the best cabin, with Eddington occupying the lower bunk. He had gone to bed first as was his habit, only to be awakened on this occasion by the creaking of the door as Chemura entered the room and began to undress.
The light of the planet’s ring streamed through the window, silvering the nude girl with its pellucid radiance. Eddington knew he should have closed his eyes, but was captivated by her beauty, illuminated by the gracing light that disclosed her well proportioned figure. His heart raced under the prompting of the stirring vision of her loveliness.
The sea was choppy that evening, and as Chemura approached the bunk a sudden swell caused her to stumble and fall on Eddington’s shadow shrouded form. The Earthman’s quick reactions enabled him to catch her as she tumbled with a gasp of fright. Silky femininity came into his arms. Her finely scaled skin felt soft and warm to his touch as did her breasts pressing against his chest. Instinctively, his arms went around Chemura, gently drawing her closer.
The girl’s natural spicy scent, her nearness, all combined to form a potent stimulus that prompted Eddington to bolder intimacy. Chemura wasn’t blind to his obvious desire. Gently, she freed herself from his embrace and rose to a sitting position on the bunk, a troubled expression on her face.
“I am not free to give myself to you.” she said, and he detected a trace of sadness in her voice.
“My feelings for you are not mere lust,” he gently reassured her. “They have grown during our time together to become genuine love. I sense that you are beginning to feel similarly, but something is holding you back as you have now admitted. May I ask what it is?”
“Duty,” she replied. “I made a promise to my mother to fulfil a task. I am sworn to secrecy and cannot tell you more than that. All will be revealed when we reach Thanor… I’m truly sorry.”
Chemura quickly ascended the ladder to the upper bunk, her eyes wet with tears.
It was a long time before Eddington fell asleep.
**********
It was morning of the fifth day and the city of Thanor was now in sight. The land swept back from the sea and climbed to low forested hills, and it was on the plain before these tors that the metropolis had been constructed. Towers of white marble, glistening in the sunrise, greeted Eddington’s sight as he looked landward from the prow. The buildings were on average three stories in height with balconies encircling each floor on the outer and inner walls, for the domiciles had an open circular courtyard and peaked roofs of blue tile. The structures were akin to apartments, with each capable of housing up to 700 people, and functioning as units of the larger metropolis.
The harbour was dotted with Thanor’s fishing fleet, the sailors thereof readying their craft for the day’s work. These vessels were all sailboats rather than galleys. Lacking repellent coated hulls, they avoided as much as possible venturing into the deep ocean where the monstrous sea-beasts roamed. Along the foreshore were squat rectangular buildings where the catch was processed, and further down the coast the city’s farmlands could be dimly seen.
Chemura joined Eddington. The Earthman hid his sadness with a smile and a pleasant greeting. The girl reciprocated. Neither made mention of what had occurred the night before. Instead, Chemura pointed excitedly towards the harbour.
“We’ve been sighted. See, a ship comes to meet us. Alert captain Aynor. They will be suspicious, perhaps even frightened of us. It is vital we avoid misunderstandings.”
Eddington agreed and departed. The Thanoran boat drew near, the eyes of its crew widening in shock at the sight of Chemura’s strangeness and also at that of the Inkunu crew. The captain, at Eddington’s suggestion, sent human sailors to the rail who waved and shouted friendly greetings to the men in the approaching boat. Thus reassured that the strange ship was not completely manned by outlandish beings, the Thanoran craft drew nearer and further messages were exchanged, with Chemura explaining their diplomatic mission and enquiring who the current ruler was.
“Anthon is ruler,” replied the captain of the sailboat. “We will guide you into port. The harbour master can send a message to the king informing him of your arrival and purpose.”
Chemura’s lips thinned slightly for a moment at Anthon’s name before pleasantly replying: “Lead the way and we will follow.”
Eddington, standing close to his companion, saw the fleeting look, and wondered as to the cause of her displeasure.
**********
Eddington and Chemura stood before Anthon; the setting - a lavish meeting room of the king’s expansive palace. Light streamed through the stained glass windows and cast geometrical patterns in amber, ruby and sapphire upon the marble floor of the pillared hall, whose ornamental columns took the form of caryatids painted in hues of living flesh.
An elaborately carved stool set on a high podium was located at the end of the chamber. On this ornate seat sat the king - a hawk faced balding middle aged man, thinly built. His shallow chest, tattooed with intricate designs, was clearly visible as he was clad in nothing but a black loincloth embroidered with gold thread. Gilded sandals and a aureate circlet set with large opals completed his apparel. Currently, he was engrossed in reading Shemnar’s letter. Eddington watched his countenance with keen interest as did Chemura, but the monarch hid his emotions behind an expressionless facade.
Several minutes passed before the king looked up, his reading completed. Anthon spoke, his surprisingly deep voice carrying the length of the colonnaded hall.
“I, along with my nobles, will consider the offer of the Council of Payas concerning the matters contained herein,” he announced, tapping the diplomatic missive. “We will advise you of our decision as soon as it has been made. In the meantime quarters for both of you will be arranged.”
“Your majesty,” said Chemura as the king was about to issue orders to his wizened majordomo. “I, too, have an important message to convey concerning Usumara, former queen of Thanor.”
A gasp arose from the king’s councilors assembled at the foot of the podium. Eddington was also shocked by the announcement and its implications. He glanced at Chemura and saw that she was in earnest. He looked at the king. Anthon’s face had become tense and pale, his expressionless facade pierced by stabbing fear.
“Upon my back,” continued Chemura in the shocked silence, “is a message tattooed in opsai juice which, as all here know, becomes visible when rubbed with the oily pericarp of the ko fruit. This message was put there by the queen herself. It is to be read in the presence of the council and Thanor’s current ruler.”
Anthon, guessing the nature of the message leaped to his feet. “Lies,” he desperately shouted. “The Payans are descendants of rebellious traitors. Again, they seek to usurp our leadership with elaborate falsehoods.”
The king struck a nearby gong. Warriors burst forth from side doorways. Anthon thrust his accusing finger at Chemura and the Earthman.
“Slay these agents of the enemy,” he hotly cried.
Eddington swore. Unarmed, he stepped protectively in front of Chemura as a dozen burly palace guards raced towards him with all the dire fierceness of a pack of slavering wolves.
As the racing guards bore down upon the Earthman in an overwhelming mass Chemura, the calmest of all present, shouted above the nobles cries of consternation and the stamp of running feet.
“The king exceeds his authority. The Royal Council has a right to see the message that I bear before we are condemned.”
The guards were mere yards away. Eddington prepared to defend his love even though he knew he stood no chance. Then a nobleman, spurred by Chemura’s words, dashed in front of the Earthman and his companion, hands up-flung dramatically.
“Stop,” he shouted. “I, Vukan, chief among the nobles, command it.”
The racing warriors came to a halt, for Vukan stood directly in their path, shielding the strangers with his body. Seeing success, the noble then turned upon the king with this rebuke:
“Your majesty is king, not Molokar the Tyrant. The council of nobles will not be sidelined in this matter. Queen Usumara disappeared many years ago. This stranger could help us solve the mystery. Surely you, the queen’s brother, are eager to discover the truth.”
The king flushed. His hands clenched in impotent rage. The council knew their rights. “These are enemy agents sent to sow discord,” he said with bluster.
“That is yet to be proved,” calmly replied the noble. Then, to the commander of the guards: “Ithku, have one of your men fetch ko fruit from the palace kitchens. We’ll soon see what this message says.”
A warrior departed upon the order and soon returned with the fruit, which was pear shaped, and lime green with cream mottling. A sword stroke split it in half and the oil from the pericarp was smeared on Chemura’s back. Within seconds a strange writing, whose letters consisted of overlapping vertical and horizontal lines, began to appear before the crowding nobles and curious warriors. Vukan read it to all present.
“I Usumara, Queen of Thanor, scribe these lines with my own hand upon the back of she who bears them. My words are the truth. I swear this by the goddess Omsar, the Creator of Worlds.
“Anthon, my treacherous brother, is responsible for my disappearance. Desiring the throne and all its status it was he, in the dead of night, who bound and gagged me, placing me aboard the flying machine I designed and casting it loose. But not before damaging the vehicle so it would crash many basur away from Thanor in order to conceal his vile crime.
“But Omsar chose a different destiny for me and I survived. Chemura, the woman who bears my words is the child of my loins, born in a strange land to a foreign man. If I am not standing by her side when this is read, then I am no longer of this world. If this is so then I declare Chemura as queen of Thanor, my sole and legitimate heir. As for Anthon - if Chemura is made queen, it will be for her in consultation with the council to decide his fate. I, queen Usumara, charge the council to serve my daughter well.”
Vukan looked at his fellow nobles. “It is the queen’s handwriting. The message is authentic.”
All eyes turned upon the king.
Anthon’s mind had been working furiously. His initial shock and fear had been overcome by his natural self-confidence. He hadn’t taken all the risks he had to gain the throne only for things to end like this. Failing to silence his accuser, he knew his only hope lay in discrediting her evidence.
“The queen has obviously been forced to write that message under vile duress,” said the wily king in reply to the questioning looks cast upon him. “The young woman who bears the inscription looks nothing like my sister. We have no sound evidence that she is the queen’s daughter.
“As I said before,” continued Anthon: “The Payans are descendants of rebellious traitors. Again, they seek to usurp your rightful king with elaborate falsehoods. This is all a ploy to allow these spies to infiltrate our nation and destabilize it in preparation for brutal conquest. Only I, your true monarch, can protect you from this threat. I am a Thanoran. This is beyond doubt. But this woman … well, we don’t know what she is except that she isn’t one of us.”
“I am, as the message says, the daughter of Usamara,” replied Chemura with proud defiance. “And you,” she continued with venom, “are the traitor who stole her throne and sought to murder her. Your eagerness to kill me proves it.”
“I admit I was enraged by your baseless accusation, and reacted with fury rather than reason,” smoothly replied the king. “I would never harm my beloved sister in any way, and her disappearance left me sick with grief.”
Then to Vukan: “I apologize for my unseemly behaviour. I deliver these strangers into the custody of the council. Question them further as you like, and debate the issue. I will await your decision as to the truth or falsity of the claims.”
The king waived his hand, dismissing the audience. Chemura and Eddington were escorted from the hall under guard, the nobles following close behind. The Earthman threw a glance over his shoulder. Was that a self-assured smirk he glimpsed on Anthon’s face, a portent of further danger? He feared that this was so.
**********
It was now midnight. Eddington gazed out the window of the palace guest room which overlooked the building’s central courtyard garden, illuminated by the soft light of the planet’s ring. The manicured vista of carefully tended flowering shrubs, artful sculptures and white stone pathways was lost to him as his mind was beset by a multitude of worries that kept him from slumber.
He and Chemura had been questioned separately over a period many exhausting hours. The only good thing he could say about the trying experience was that torture hadn’t been used. Eddington correctly guessed that the possibility of Chemura being the rightful ruler was the only thing preventing it’s employment.
The council had now retired to deliberate, no doubt looking for inconsistencies in the accounts each had given that would indicate their claims were lies. Eddington knew he’d spoken the truth, had held nothing back and was confident that Chemura had done likewise. But the story, though true, was a fantastic tale. Would it be believed? He dreaded to think of their fate if it wasn’t.
Eddington turned from the window and froze in shock. Chemura lay on a sleeping mat, eyes closed in slumber. In the dim light cast by a single oil lamp, the peaceful scene was transformed to one of horror, for crawling towards her was a thing of nightmare. The creature resembled an octopus in body shape and size. It’s skin, however, wasn’t soft. Instead, it consisted of a black exoskeleton, segmented on its clawed tentacles to allow movement, while the bulbous head was protected by a spiky integument and ringed by six yellow eyes.
The horror was now less that a foot away from the slumbering girl and Eddington could clearly see the oily venom, glistening in the dim light, as it oozed from all eight claws. The Earthman knew if he shouted a warning to the girl her sudden movement might provoke the thing to lunge and strike, and if he rushed towards it to kick the horror aside such a move might precipitate an identical calamity. To do nothing was also not an option.
The Earthman’s mind worked swiftly. He grabbed a heavy silver plate from a nearby table containing bowels of fruit and hurled it like a discus at the horror. The spinning platter struck the creature’s head with a mighty crack that sent it flying. Chemura woke with a start. She saw the horror writhing on the floor, green gore oozing from its shattered skull. With a cry of fear she rolled away from it as Eddington rushed to her side.
“Are you all right,” asked the Earthman as he helped her to stand.
“I will be if it hasn’t clawed me,” she replied anxiously as she examined herself.
“Don’t worry,” he reassured her. “I hit it before it could.”
The door of the apartment burst open, ending further conversation. Two guards stood on the threshold, alerted by the commotion. Instantly, their eyes took in the scene - the writhing horror on the floor; Eddington, his arm protectively around Chemura. Quickly, one warrior entered the room, approached the dying creature and stared at it in disbelief.
“How did the cethan get in here? Did it strike anyone,” he asked, worriedly.
“The first question should be directed to the king,” answered Eddington, hotly. “It was about to attack Chemura. This is clearly an assassination attempt. As for your second question: Fortunately, I stopped it in time.”
“Careful who you accuse,” sharply warned the warrior. Then, turning to his companion. “Summon the commander of the palace regiment. I’ll wait here and guard these two in case something else occurs.”
**********
The commotion of the night had passed and it was now mid morning. Chemura and Eddington again stood nervously before the king along with the assembled council who were ready to deliver their verdict.
Vukan stepped forward and addressed Anthon: “Your majesty, we have been unable to reach a unanimous decision as to Chemura’s claims. I and my fellow nobles feel the best way to settle the matter is for a delegation to be sent to Payas to investigate further. I and several other nobles have volunteered to go, using the Payas ship as transport. It is risky, especially if treachery is planned, but the question of who is rightful ruler is too important to be left unresolved.”
Anthon’s facial muscles twitched as he fought to give the impression of unconcerned calmness. He had placed a great deal of faith in his assassin’s skills. But the fool had failed and now he was dead as a punishment rather than this pestilent Chemura.
The king knew he couldn’t stop the delegation. The council were well within their rights to make further inquiries; inquiries that might well convince them that his accuser spoke the truth. This couldn’t be allowed to happen.
Anthon wasn’t a warrior. He relied on cunning to overcome his opponents rather than feats of arms. But now that subterfuge had failed this seemed the only solution left to him.
“There is a quicker way to resolve this situation without endangering your lives,” said the king. “By our ancient laws I challenge my accuser to personal combat to the death. May Omsar, the Creator of Worlds, grant my opponent victory if she speaks the truth.”
The king then cast a challenging look upon Chemura. “Do you accept?”
“With pleasure,” responded the girl, hotly. The chance to personally avenge her mother was too good an opportunity to let slip by.
**********
It was the morning of the following day and preparations for the dual had been completed. Eddington, along with the gathered nobles stood in the central courtyard of the palace where a portable shrine to Omsar had been placed. Chemura and the king, both clad in white loincloths, stood before the golden image of the goddess - a foot tall idol, hands upraised in blessing, smiling benevolently and head surrounded by a ring of stars set with glittering diamonds.
The pair, having completed the ritual with the guidance of the presiding priestess, stepped away from the shrine and walked to the centre of the courtyard. Here, they stood at opposite ends of a red line painted on the sward that separated them by ten paces.
Vukan, along with two attendants bearing sheathed swords, approached the combatants. Upon his command the blades were presented to the duelists. The noble stepped back and spoke:
“Let the combat commence and may Omsar defend the truth.”
Eddington watched nervously as the king and Chemura began to walk warily down the line towards each other. The Earthman was confident that his love could win. She was stronger and fitter than Anthon. But the monarch knew this and yet had challenged her to mortal combat.
A foreboding of impending disaster had beset Eddington since the challenge. He was certain that the king was behind the attempt on Chemura’s life, and was sure he would try some new perfidy. Unfortunately, the Earthman could prove nothing. He had revealed his concerns to Chemura, but has she had pointed out the challenge had been accepted, and there was no backing out now.
The combatants were about five paces from each other when Eddington’s worst fears were realized. Chemura unexpectedly staggered. Her knees gave way and she sagged to the ground. The girl tried to force her trembling legs to stand, but the effort proved too much and she collapsed face down upon the sward.
Anthon, a look of cruel triumph upon his face stepped forward to deliver the killing blow.
Eddington exploded into action the moment Chemura staggered. He charged the king, a savage cry exploding from his throat. Anthon turned, cursed. Palace guards dashed towards the racing Earthman as nobles shouted in wild alarm.
The Earthman sidestepped Anthon’s savage thrust and flung himself on the monarch in a bruising tackle that drove him swiftly to the ground. Eddington wrenched the sword from the king’s weakened grasp and pressed the blade dangerously to his throat.
“Stop,” he yelled at the racing guards.
The charging warriors halted. They turned to the king, but the breath had been driven from his lungs and all he could do was gasp weakly.
Eddington took advantage of the situation. He shouted to Vukan in a mixture of rage and fear: “Chemura has been poisoned. Stop the combat.”
The noble raised his hands for silence and the jittery onlookers began to settle. Vukan approached Chemura and began examining the unconscious woman. It wasn’t long before he discovered the rash on her hand that had gripped the sword.
Cautiously, he picked up the blade by its pommel and smelt the grip. A faint odour reminiscent of cinnamon was just perceptible. Instantly, he recognized it for what it was: nethos extract - an anaesthetic powder derived from the plant’s seeds that could be absorbed through the skin. He made his findings known to all present.
Relief flooded Eddington. His love was merely unconscious, not dying. The Earthman’s emotions were a sharp contrast to those of the king. Anthon’s plan had gone seriously awry. The anaesthetic had been intended to slow Chemura’s reactions and give him an advantage, not incapacitate her. But what the monarch hadn’t counted on was that Chemura’s mixed parentage made her more sensitive to the effects of the drug than a human, and now his treachery was exposed for all to see, for who else but the monarch could have organized this skullduggery.
The king became the focus of everyone’s gaze. Sweat was upon his brow. He opened his moth to utter denials, but was swiftly cut off by Eddington.
“You are responsible for this,” he harshly said, “and of attempting to assassinate Chemura using a cethan - the foul creature that found its way (not by accident) into our guest room.
“You are a treacherous coward, unable to face a brave opponent without using foul means to gain an advantage. You are not much of a king and even less of a man. I challenge you - a duel to the death. Prove my words are false by killing me.”
Eddington wasn’t certain of the legality of his challenge. But what he did know was that the longer Anthon remained alive the more opportunities he’d have for murder, and that the next attempt might succeed. This had to end now. The king must die so his love could live. The Earthman hoped his accusations and insults would force the king to fight.
Anthon could see that he was cornered. The challenge his enemy had cast before him couldn’t be ignored. He sensed the change of mood among the nobles. Some hid their contempt behind a bland facade, others were more open in their condemnation. He’d have to fight.
“I accept,” replied the king. “But a new ritual will have to be performed to…”
“No,” replied Eddington firmly, seeing through Anthon’s ploy to buy time and spin further plots. “We fight now. The goddess doesn't need any more rituals to ensure the triumph of justice.” He threw a challenging look at the priestess who still stood before Omsar’s portable altar.
“Despite what men do, or do not do, the will of the goddess prevails,” replied the priestess, keeping her answer as neutral as possible to avoid accusations of siding with either man.
“In view of what has been said I can’t see any reason why the combat cannot commence at once,” announced Vukan. “Do any disagree?”
No dissenting voices were raised. Chemura was laid on one of the daybeds in the courtyard’s colonnade and, after a slight delay in which Eddington satisfied himself that she was not in danger, the duel commenced.
Eddington feinted low, cut high. Blade rang on blade as the king blocked the flying steel. The Earthman leaped back, barely avoiding his opponent’s counter-stroke. Both combatants circled each other like stalking tigers. Eddington lunged. The king sidestepped the thrust, struck.
The Earthman, overextended, couldn’t parry the attack. He dropped to the ground and sharp steep whistled above his head in a narrow miss. With a shout of triumph the king lunged at the fallen man, sword stabbing viciously. Eddington rolled aside. The blade plunged into soil, not flesh.
Eddington came to his feet as the king wrenched his sword from the sward. Dirt coated the blade. It lent inspiration to Anthon. He flicked the weapon, sent earth flying. Eddington cursed as dirt splattered his face, got in his eyes.
Again, the king shouted in wild triumph. A swipe of his sword knocked the blade from Eddington’s hand. He then lunged at his blinded opponent. But Anthon’s victory cry was premature. Eddington ducked, anticipating his foe’s line of attack. The Earthman felt sharp steel graze his scalp. He lunged forward, his arms catching his wily opponent about the knees. Anthon went down cursing. He struck hard. The sword flew from his jarred hand.
Eddington, blinded, fought by touch alone. His questing hands caught the monarch’s neck in an iron grip. He began to mercilessly strangle his enemy. In a panic the king struck wildly at his opponent, fists pounding madly, fingers thrusting at his eyes. The Earthman hung on grimly, ignoring the agonizing battering, channeling all his strength into his crushing grip.
The king was now in high panic. He couldn’t breathe. His vision began to blur, his limbs to weaken. He tore feebly, ineffectually at his foe’s constricting hands. Anthon knew he was finished. In the end all his carefully made plans, his plots and treacheries had come to naught. Grim death was to be his only reward. Too late he realized the bitter truth.
Eddington sensed his foe weakening. It gave him strength. His fingers, like the talons of an avenging raptor, sunk further into the throat of his gasping enemy. The king’s eyes rolled in their sockets. He gave a final convulsive shudder and then lay limp in death’s black embrace.
Vukan had to pry Eddington’s fingers loose from the throat of the corpse, so rigid had his muscles become during the wild extremity of combat. Water was brought and the dirt washed from Eddington’s eyes. With Vukan’s assistance the exhausted Earthman shakily stood and gazed at the dead king. It was an ugly sickening sight.
**********
Three days had passed. Chemura had recovered from the affects of the nethos extract, and preparations for the coronation that would make her queen were well under way. Eddington was happy for his love, but not for himself as he suspected he would lose her to the dictates of her exulted position.
Over the past days he had seen very little of Chemura, for she had been moved to the royal suite, Vukan explaining that this was in keeping with her royal status and that her time was being taken up with mastering the protocols required for the ceremony. The Earthman realized that this was the truth, but not all of it, for he sensed a change in the noble’s attitude towards him.
Eddington realized he had served his purpose by returning the rightful queen to her people and helping expose the evils of the former king. Vukan was grateful for his services, but this didn’t change the fact that the Earthman was a foreign commoner. Chemura would soon be queen, and from her loins would spring the future ruler of Thanor. She couldn’t be allowed to join with just anyone, and so he was being pushed to the margins of the royal court, and probably eventually well beyond it.
Eddington wondered if Chemura knew what was going on, and if she did how she felt about it. He remembered their time aboard the ship - how she’d said she wasn’t free to give herself to him, and how she had sworn to fulfil a task. The Earthman was certain that Chemura had feelings for him, but also felt she might be being pressured to sacrifice their love on the alter of political necessity.
Wild thoughts went through his mind - to break into her apartments and find the truth. What was more important to her - their love or being queen? The ship that had brought them here from Payas was still birthed in the harbour. If she chose love they could use that to escape. It was a mad scheme, but the thought of losing Chemura was so unbearable that it became a viable solution in the eyes of the desperate man. He had to discover his love’s true feelings, to hear the words from her own lips. If she refused to go with him then he’d quietly leave, although it would break his heart to do so.
Eddington, having come to a decision, set about putting his plan into immediate action. It was now late evening, his restless thoughts having robbed him of slumber. The Earthman quietly opened the door of his apartment’s balcony. Stepping out, he looked up towards the royal suite, which was several floors above him and now the location where Chemura permanently resided.
The palace walls were smooth, the joins in the masonry hair thin thus precluding hand and foot holds. The balconies, however, might provide a way. Each was separated from the other by a span of 30 feet. His balcony’s drapes provided inspiration. Eddington cut them into strips using a small knife and knotted the strips together to form a rope. For a grappling hook he bent a candlestick into the required shape, padded it with cloth and bound the improvised rope to it.
Returning to the balcony Eddington spun the hook to a blur and let go. His aim was true. With a soft thud the padded grapple caught on the balustrade of the balcony above him. Before ascending the Earthman again looked cautiously about. His heart seemed to skip a beat. Below, a guard had marched into view, one of many that patrolled the palace grounds.
Fortunately, the fellow was intent on scrutinizing the garden for threats and didn’t look up. Eddington, the sweat of anxiety upon his brow, waited until the guard had marched out of sight before commencing his ascent. Up he went, one balcony, then the next. It was a long and straining climb, made worse by the constant fear of discovery. But at last he gained the royal suite and swung his trembling frame across its balustrade.
Here, he paused to catch his breath, and when regained pulled up the rope and turned his attention to the balcony doors before him. The Earthman saw that the room was dimly lit by the soft glow of an oil lamp. Cautiously, heart beating with a mix of trepidation and excitement at seeing his love, he approached the door and pressed his ear to the glass insets of its latticework panel.
Indistinct voices came to his ears. Silently, Eddington cursed and was about to retreat into the shadows when a feminine scream, quickly muffled, came to his straining senses. Instantly, he recognized the cry as Chemura’s. His love was in danger. With wild strength the Earthman attacked the door. Wrenching it open Eddington rushed into the room. A confronting sight met his steely gaze.
Chemura, her delicate night apparel torn from her hips, struggled in the callous grip of a powerfully built man who had one hairy hand clamped across her mouth and the other thrust between her thighs. Eddington wasted neither time nor words. Instantly he charged his love’s assailant.
Chemura wasn’t helpless. Furiously, she slammed her fist against the fellow’s nose as Eddington rushed to her assistance. Blood spurted. The brute howled more in rage than agony. The incapacitating strike was nullified by his drunken state, which rendered him largely insensible to pain. With a mighty blow he knocked Chemura to the floor.
The Earthman swore in outrage at the foul act. The thuggish fellow turned at his cry. Eddington’s flying fist hammered the fiend’s prognathous chin. The brute crashed to the tiles beside the stunned woman. The thug was down but far from out. He slammed a brutal kick into Eddington’s shin and it was the Earthman’s turn to hit the floor.
Eddington’s assailant pounced on him like a raging lion, clawing hands viciously reaching for his throat. The two combatants wrestled furiously, desperately, each trying to lay a fatal stranglehold upon the other. The Earthman’s foe headbutted him. Stunned, Eddington was unable to fend off the hairy hands that caught his neck in a crushing grip of iron.
The Earthman fought to free himself, but the brute’s strength was far greater than his own. He couldn’t breath. Darkness clouded his vision. The ugly visage of his grinning foe filled his fading sight. Then, when all seemed lost, the frightful pressure eased.
Eddington lay gasping. He felt the limp form of his assailant being dragged off him. His vision cleared. Chemura, an extremely worried expression on her face knelt beside him.
“John,” she gasped. “Are you badly hurt. Speak to me.”
“I … I’ll be alright,” he replied as he gingerly touched his bruised throat. “More importantly are you okay?”
“I’m bruised, but not as badly as prince Yutai,” she replied soberly, referring to her assailant.
Eddington turned his attention to the unconscious man who reeked of thumis - a potent intoxicant. A heavy gold bowel lay beside the prince - one which Chemura had used to bludgeon him into insensibility.
“Well, there’s nothing noble about this prince,” observed Eddington furiously. “You’d better call the guards and have him dragged off to the dungeons where he belongs.”
“Considering he’s my betrothed that’s not an option,” she replied.
“Your what!” he incredulously gasped.
“As queen I’m more figurehead than ruler,” she bitterly admitted. “The authority of the monarch has been greatly reduced since the overthrow of Molokar the Tyrant some thirty years ago. I do have a say in decision making, but it is the council who largely rules and can overturn my wishes. My marriage to Yutai is purely political. He is Anthon’s son, and my loveless union with him will help placate some powerful people who are unhappy about the former king’s demise.”
“Chemura, I love you,” said Eddington with desperate passion. “As queen you seem little better off here than when you were a slave of the Monarri. Yes, you live in a luxurious palace and occupy an exulted position, but still you are not free. I don’t want this for you. Return with me to Payas. We can have a better life there, together in love and happiness.”
“Oh, if only it could be so,” replied Chemura, her breast heaving with raging emotion. “My love, if I was a commoner I’d gladly come with you. But I’m not. With my noble heritage comes great responsibility that demands huge sacrifices.”
With a sob, she turned away from him and flung herself upon the floor, weeping bitterly.
Eddington felt crushed by her decision, which was clearly to put her royal responsibilities above their happiness. He wasn’t angry with Chemura. She was doing what she felt was right. But that didn’t make it any easier for him to accept it. The Earthman knew with bitter certainty that this was the end. He couldn’t stay here - the sight of his love in another man’s arms would be too much to bear.
He’d have to go, and that would mean never seeing his love again. For a brief moment he entertained the wild thought of carrying Chemura off against her will, but then dismissed it. She would come to hate him for not respecting her decision, which he had to accept, agonizing though it was. He wanted to embrace his love a final time but felt that if he did he would weaken and enact his wild plan. So instead he slowly stood and tearfully prepared to quietly leave forever.
As Eddington stood he cast a final hate filled glance at the unconscious prince, then stiffened as he saw blood seeping from beneath the fellow’s head. Quickly, the Earthman knelt beside the wounded man and felt for a pulse. There was none.
“What is it?” asked Chemura who had caught his movement from the edge of vision.
“The prince is dead,” answered Eddington, his voice tight with worry. “His skull must have been fractured by the blow. This changes everything. You’ve got to come with me now. The nobles will want revenge, and I doubt your position will protect you. Am I right?”
Chemura gasped in shock. She hadn’t intended to kill the prince, but fear for Eddington had added a fatal impetus to her blow, and now the man was dead.
“I must stay. While they are occupied dealing with me you can safely escape,” replied the worried woman. “Quickly, go now before you, too, are caught in this disaster.”
Eddington swore. “If you say then I say,” he firmly said. “Furthermore, I’ll confess to killing the prince. That way you’ll be safe.”
“They’ll execute you,” she gasped. “And by torture!”
“Be that as it may. I’ll not leave you to face the noble’s wrath. My decision is final,” he sincerely and firmly replied.
Panic came upon Chemura. She could see that Eddington meant what he said. He wasn’t bluffing. His love pressed her hand to her brow in utter consternation for a moment as an intense struggle took place between duty and love. Then she came to a decision: To the abode of devils with the throne. There had been enough death throughout her perilous journey. She didn’t want to see the man she loved foully die as well.
“Will you leave if I come with you?” she asked.
“Yes,” he answered, relieved that common sense had prevailed. “How do we escape the palace undetected? How much time do we have before the body is discovered?”
Chemura got a grip on her tumultuous emotions and became practical. “We probably have until early morning when Vukan, along with his assistants, will arrive to discuss the final preparations for the coronation and marriage ceremony. As for leaving the palace - my mother taught me the secret signs that indicate the presence of hidden escape ways. I pray to Omsar that this room has one, for we cannot overcome the many guards that patrol the hallways.”
Chemura set about her search for the hidden cypher. The hours passed. Dawn approached as the worried Earthman gazed out the balcony towards the coming light. If there was no secret way then all was lost, for the palace was too heavily patrolled to permit their undetected flight.
“I have found it,” announced Chemura, excitedly.
Eddington felt the the tension drain from him. But a knock on the door made him stiffen with prickling fright. With silent speed he rushed to Chemura’s side. She was struggling to press a small stylized flower - part of an intricately carved wall panel of mahogany-like wood.
Quickly, he added his strength to that of his love. The knocking on the door grew louder, more insistent. The disguised button sank. A section of the wall panel swung inward as someone grasped the bronze door handle and began to turn it.
The couple dashed within the secret way as the door to the apartment was thrust wide. Eddington swiftly closed the panel. Both waited tensely in the gloom, fearfully wondering if they’d been seen.
Consternation erupted at the sight of the dead prince. Others swiftly entered the room. Vukan and his assistants could be heard rushing here and there throughout the royal suite in a state of high agitation. To the couple’s relief no one approached their hiding place. Eddington wasn’t entirely relieved. It wouldn’t take long for guards to be sent to seize their ship and its crew - the only sure means of escape from the city. He whispered as much to his love.
Chemura nodded. She beckoned him to follow as she began to descend the ladder in a shaft dimly illuminated by phosphorescent paint. It led to the lower floors and beyond to further subterranean ways. The worried Earthman swiftly followed, praying their desperate flight would not be hindered in any way.
**********
Eddington looked at the two pursuing craft from the stern of the Omayu, the outrigger galley that had brought them to Thanor. The Earthman and Chemura had gained the city’s docks just ahead of the troop of guards sent to arrest the ship’s crew. Fortunately, captain Aynor had ordered his men to sleep aboard their craft, foreseeing the possibility of the need to quickly flee the city that viewed them with suspicion.
The Earthman remembered their desperate dash from the warehouse where the secret way debouched. Through the door they’d sprinted, then across the wharf past startled Thanoran sailors and stevedores to their ship. The Omayu’s crew had seen them, lowered the gangplank in recognition. Another mariner had swiftly roused the captain. Sensing danger Aynor had sent crew to cast off as a wild shout pierced the silence of the dawn.
Down an avenue leading to the port dashed a hundred burly warriors, drawn swords glinting in the early light. In a burst of wild speed Chemura and Eddington raced up the gangplank as lines were case off. Their pursuers rapidly closed the distance, shouting alarm. Other dock hands, daggers drawn, raced to join the looming fray.
The enemy was but yards away when the gangplank was hauled aboard. Eddington grabbed Chemura and swiftly pulled her to the deck as a flight of thrown knives whirled towards them. One sailor screamed as he was struck. He tumbled bleeding to the boards. Captain Aynor shouted orders. Crewmen pushed off. The ship’s oars churned the sea to the beat of the booming drum, and the vessel began to pull away from danger…
Eddington brought his mind to the present as he focused on the pursuing craft, now in deep ocean where the monstrous sea-beasts roamed. Initially, the Omayu had the lead for it had taken several hours for the enemy to organize pursuit. But the Thanoran vessels were sailing ships, not galleys, and their spread of canvas and superior design gave them speed that the Omayu couldn’t match.
A crack sounded sharply making Eddington jump. The lead pursuer had let go her bow catapult. The heavy stone projectile arched towards the fleeing ship. It splashed ten yards to starboard.
“They’ll have our range soon,” observed Aynor who stood by the sweating sailor manning the ships steering oar. The captain’s weather-beaten features were creased by additional lines of worry. He didn’t need to voice the fact that there was little they could do against their faster, heavily armed pursuers.
“There must be something we can do,” said Chemura, who had joined Eddington at the stern.
The Earthman wracked his brains for a solution, but could find none. Their ship lacked a catapult as it was a civilian vessel on a diplomatic mission. The Omayu’s doughty sailors were well armed, and could no doubt give a good account of themselves in battle. But there was nothing they could do against the long range weapons of the foe, whose intent was to sink them from the safety of distance on orders from the vengeance driven nobles.
To emphasize the point the enemy flung another projectile at the fleeing ship. It struck the sea only five yards from the stern. The foe were getting the range and the next shot would most likely hit their vessel.
Eddington’s frantic thoughts were interrupted by a yell: “Sea-beast off the starboard bow,” came a sailor’s cry.
It was an inspiration to the Earthman. “Steer for it,” he exultantly shouted.
Captain Aynor immediately grasped the plan. It was desperate but their only hope. He gave the order and the Omayu veered hard towards the monster, rolling sharply as she made the rapid turn.
The sea beast sensed the ship’s approach. It, too, turned to confront the rash intruder that dared invade its territory. The huge creature, twice the length of the Omayu, bore down upon the vessel in a rush as its snaky body cleaved the waves in undulating speed.
Eddington and Chemura tensely watched its swift approach. Closer it came, nearer still. Another enemy projectile splashed stern-ward in an explosion of drenching spray. Death threatened fore and aft.
At ten yards the sea beast swerved convulsively. Its bony head burst from the water, rising up on a stupendous neck of olive green scales. Black eyes regarded them malevolently. Its mouth gaped, displaying rows of frightening shark-like teeth. It hissed in rage and frustration - the black repellent coating on the ships hull was keeping it at bay.
The horror caught the movement of the other craft. It turned its ugly head towards the Thanoran vessels. Another vile and rage filled hiss exploded from its maw. Then it dived beneath the waves and rushed towards the enemy.
Mariners on the target ship were in a panic. Their craft was not protected by repellent. A projectile arched towards the horror, but missed. The ship swerved in an evasive manoeuvre, but too late. The bony head of the monster crashed against the vessel’s hull with all the battering force of a warship’s beak-like ram.
Planking splintered. Water rushed in. The sea beast heaved its massive bulk from the ocean, began to entwine the ship like a monstrous constrictor, cracking timbers with its hideous strength. Sailors screamed, died as the creature’s horrid jaws swept men within its capacious maw. The vessel began to sink rapidly under the weight of in-rushing water and the monster’s massive weight. Desperate, terrified men jumped overboard. There was no escape. The ship went down, dragging the hapless sailors after it in the terrific suction of its terrible vortex.
The sailors of the surviving Thanoran vessel, seeing the heinous destruction their companions and already unhappy about being forced on this suicidal mission, mutinied. They seized the brutal captain of the ship, hurled him and his sycophantic officers overboard. They then turned the vessel and swiftly fled the scene of awful carnage, intent on enlisting with the pirates that infested the Zanarri coast.
Eddington, shaken by the sight of slaughter, led Chemura from the horrid scene and to the their vessel’s bow.
“There lies Payas,” he said as he placed his arms about her slender waist. “And there, among friends, we will find happiness and put the evils of the past far behind us.
Chemura smiled at him, knowing that though she’d lost a kingdom the greater good was hers. The couple kissed and in time the Earthman’s words were proven true.
THE END