Edit History: Minor changes were made to this story on 22 July 2021.
Thomas Lorentz sat on a bolder pensively watching the coming of an alien dawn. The light of the rising K dwarf star tinted the bellies of the scudding rain clouds with the burnt sienna of its dull light, and bronzed the ocean waves that rolled sluggishly upon the shore under the burden of the planet’s high gravity.
At the man’s back was the strange forest of the lonely coast – squat trees whose grey barrel-like trunks were topped with crowns of black fronds, and whose crimson bell-shaped flowers scented the air with heady perfume reminiscent of musk.
Lorentz looked down, and in the puddle from the recent downpour he saw reflected his own face. But it was a stranger’s face, an alien face as was the body of the being in which his human mind was trapped.
Anger, as burning and bitter as acid rose up at the thought of what had been done to him; he looked up, his powerful hands clenching into blocky fists as his gaze raked the early morning sky. High above, orbiting the planet was Venture, the first interstellar ship that had come to investigate this world’s bio-signatures as observed from Earth, and on it another Thomas Lorentz - a fully human Lorentz of which his mind was but a copy.
Again, he looked at the face reflected in the puddle. It was broad and navy blue in colour. The golden eyes were larger than a human’s and startlingly cat-like, adapted to the dim sunlight. There was no hair upon the head, only a carapace reminiscent of a tortis’ shell in appearance and texture – a kind of natural helmet no doubt evolved to deal with objects falling in a gravity twice that of Earth’s. It was a powerful face, a face that matched the leathery, heavily muscled body. But it was a face that wasn’t human, a face that wasn’t his own; a face that Ameena, his wife, could never love.
Bitterness nearly choked him at the thought. The Venture’s probe had discovered the body he now wore on this very coast. The humanoid had been lying on the beach, clinging to life with an arrow protruding from its skull. The probe had recovered the being, had brought it back to the ship for study. Life support had kept the humanoid alive in the biohazard isolation chamber, but Dr Royston had pronounced it a shell empty of mind – the brain injury so severe that all higher mental functions had been destroyed.
But even so it was a monumental event of historic importance – the discovery of intelligent extraterrestrial life. A living world lay below – a world of shallow seas and archipelagos, a planet whose favourable spin-orbit and size gave it warmth from ice free pole to pole. But there were problems as far as exploration was concerned: The thick atmosphere and higher gravity were bad enough, but the countless alien microorganisms were the greatest threat - no human could survive without the constant wearing of bulky biohazard suits, and in addition none could pass for a native of the planet.
It was Dr Royston who had proposed the astounding solution to the problem: The brain of the alien was badly damaged, but the brainstem was intact and was keeping its body alive. Using the advanced synthetic biology and surgery of 23rd century science he was confident he could rebuild the damaged sections of the brain, and stamp upon it a human personality to create a living probe that could unobtrusively study all aspects of the aliens and their environment.
Lorentz brought his mind back to the present. He gazed bitterly at his hands and flexed powerful fingers, fingers that could easily choke the life from Royston in vengeance for what he’d done. Lorentz uttered an oath. His body was many times stronger than a human’s, yet he was powerless. His mind was just a copy of the Venture’s chief engineer, but even so he felt like the original Lorentz, had the memories of the original, and acted as the original would have under similar circumstances.
Despite his alien appearance the core of his being was human – a human marooned on an alien world, separated forever from the woman he loved. He was a stranger to Earth and a stranger to this sphere – a hybrid of human and extraterrestrial that didn’t fit in on either planet. The scientists, exuberant at the discovery of intelligent life, had been carried away by the fervour of excitement and hadn’t considered the implications of what they’d done. To them he was just a vehicle that carried the many sensors they’d implanted in his body – an instrument to be used; to be sacrificed if need be in the cause of science.
Lorentz remembered his awakening after surgery – the confusion, the fear. Then anger with the explanation of what had been done to him, and a wrenching feeling of betrayal and abandonment. Muttering a final oath Lorentz marshalled his resolve and stood. He knew he had two options: He could sit here and brood darkly forever and a day on the injustice of what had been done to him, or he could try and make the best of things by adapting to changed circumstances. Deciding that the latter course of action was the only sensible alternative, even if it meant helping those who were responsible for his predicament, he set off down the beach intent on exploring the alien world which was now his permanent home.
The K dwarf star rose higher as Lorentz walked away from the site where the shuttle and its crew had ejected him under cover of darkness, and he warily scanned the forest in the growing ruddy light as he marched along the red tinted sand. He was clad in the clothes and armed with the weapons that had been found with the humanoid. A kilt-like garment of brown leather was about his waist and from the broad belt of bronze rings supporting it hung a long steel dagger and a short sword resembling an oversize bowie knife. Thick sturdy sandals completed his apparel.
This was a primitive world, a violent world. That’s why they’d used the engineer’s mind as the template for his own – the man had the mental toughness and ruggedness of personality that suited this primeval environment. For the umpteenth time Lorentz wondered who had murdered him and why he’d been killed. His repaired brain contained some of the alien’s memories, but due to the damage they were a kaleidoscope of fragmented and hazy images – a mad flight by small sailing boat from unknown foes, his landing on this deserted isle under the lashing wind of a rising storm, the pursuing enemy craft fifty yards from the shore as he sprinted madly up the beach; burning pain as the arrow pierced his skull, then ... nothing.
Lorentz put aside these thoughts and pressed on. A half hour had passed when he glimpsed a flash of light at the margins of the forest about thirty yards away. He paused in thought for a moment: The flash seemed to be metallic, which suggested a manufactured object. Should he risk investigating? Quickly, he came to a decision, ducked within the trees and cautiously crawled through the low undergrowth of black fan-shaped plants towards the source of the mysterious glint.
As he neared Lorentz heard what sounded like voices. Nervous excitement came upon him. He reduced his pace and, with increased caution advanced, easing his body through the tangle of plants that concealed his approach. As he drew near the voices became more distinct. He slowed further to a snail’s crawl and warily peered through a small gap in the dense cover of overlapping leaves.
Three men sat around the remnants of a camp fire, one polishing his sword from which the sunlight had momentarily flashed. They were clad in the manner of Lorentz, but their faces were concealed by sinister black hoods which bore the emblem of a crimson dagger.
Kazari! The word exploded into Lorentz’s consciousness, welling up from what remained of the alien’s brain, and he went cold with understanding – they were killers from the dread order of the Black Assassins. He listened carefully. Meaning gradually emerged from what seemed like babble, the stimulus of alien words bringing forth remembrance.
“I say he’s dead,” exclaimed one burly fellow. “My arrow found its mark. Of that I’m sure.”
“Nonsense,” hissed the other in derision. “The storm was upon us when you loosed your shaft. You could barely see anything through the driving rain. Besides, if he’s dead, then where’s the body?”
“Probably washed out to sea by the storm as was his boat,” replied the bowman, stubbornly. “If the gale hadn’t blown us down the coast and prevented us from landing we would have discovered his corpse.”
“No,” countered the sceptic. “He was too far up the beach for the waves to reach him if he’d fallen, and there are no large scavengers on this island that could have consumed the body in so short a time,” added the fellow, anticipating the other’s counter-argument.
“Whether he’s alive or dead is immaterial,” interjected the third. “If we don’t bring back his head, or what’s left of it, then we won’t be paid. Now, on your feet for it is light enough...”
At this moment fate played an evil hand. The thing crawling on Lorentz sank its mandibles into his thigh. The man gasped in agony, swatted it instinctively. In an instant the Kazari were on their feet, naked steel in their brawny fists.
Lorentz cursed. All attempts at stealth had come to ruin. He exploded from the undergrowth in a leaping charge with which he hoped to overwhelm the foe. One killer fell screaming, his arm severed by a wild sword swing. The others lunged in simultaneous attack. Lorentz used his sword and dagger in swift conjunction. Steel rang; sparks flew as blades clashed furiously together.
He dodged another thrust, struck. An assassin’s head tumbled, the severed neck gushing cobalt gore. The surviving killer thrust. Lorentz twisted. Razor steel grazed his ribs as he swung a savage counterstroke that cleaved his foeman’s skull in twain.
Lorentz spun away from the falling corpse and advanced furiously upon the assassin whose arm he’d severed. He clamped both hands around the stump to stem the flow of blood.
“Who sent you and why?” he barked savagely.
Silence and a glazed stare was his only answer. Life was fading fast. The killer’s eyes closed and in mere seconds he was dead.
Lorentz forced aside his squeamishness and searched the bodies, but discovered nothing that gave any clue as to who wanted him dead or why. Who was the man whose body he now wore, who had he been? The dead had no answers and the only thing he acquired was from the bowman - a small drawstring bag containing a dozen lozenge-shaped bronze coins which he appropriated. Satisfied there was nothing further to be gained Lorentz dug shallow graves and buried the corpses in as respectful a manner as was possible for he wasn’t a heartless brute, and then considered his next move.
The thought of staying on the island held no allure. Civilisation or what passed for it on this world must be his goal despite the danger posed by his unknown enemy, and in addition he was becoming rather curious as to who he’d been. The boat that had brought him here was lost, but the assassins’ craft was no doubt securely anchored somewhere along the beach. With this in mind he set off in search of it.
An hour and a half later he stood examining the craft, which had been cunningly concealed beneath a layer of fronds and other vegetation at the margin of the forest. Sheer luck had enabled him to find it – some of the vegetation had been dislodged, either by the wind or an animal, and the partially exposed stern had given it away.
Now freed of its camouflage Lorentz could see it was an outrigger. The hull was of bronze coloured wood and clinker built – a method of construction where the hull planks overlap. A short collapsible mast of the same timber as the hull lay in the bottom of the craft. The sail, approximately isosceles in form, was of the shunting variety. Its spars were curved giving the edges of the sail a convex shape. The leech was quite concave to ensure stiffness on the trailing edge, and when unfurled and attached to the mast it would resemble the claw of a crab. There were no oars for propulsion when the wind failed. Instead there were twin paddlewheels operated by pedals in the manner of a child’s pedal car.
Lorentz had never sailed before and was completely unfamiliar with boats but, as part of his mission preparation, an encyclopaedia of useful data from the Venture’s library had been uploaded to his brain to help him meet any conceivable contingency, and so in a relatively short time he had the strange rigging figured out and the boat launched upon the broad waters of the alien sea.
A stiff breeze sent the outrigger skimming across the waves, and Lorentz steered northwards towards one of the major islands upon which the Venture’s sensors had detected a substantial settlement. Was this the place from which he’d fled? What dangers were waiting for him? Lorentz shrugged. The alien’s memory afforded him no hint. Perhaps when he gazed upon the city its familiar sight, if in fact it was familiar, might stir up recall as had listening to the language of the Black Assassins.
Time passed. Lorentz grew hungry and ate of the dried fruit and meat he found stored in woven baskets, and amused himself by gazing over the side and into the lucid depths of the shallow sea. Life was present in abundance. Coral-form structures – alabaster fairy towers built by thousands of tiny marine animals twisted up from the bottom like the minarets of a fabulous sunken city. Schools of silvery fish-things darted between the living pillars, rising, twisting and diving in an enchanting aquatic dance that was strangely mesmerising.
Suddenly, the fish-things scattered in panic. A shape rose from the depths, burst from the water in flying spray behind the racing outrigger. Lorentz was splashed by brine. He turned, gasped as the frightful thing bore down upon him in a wild rush. The body, twice the length of his outrigger, was serpentine in appearance. The monstrous head was flattened and laterally extended into a hammerhead. The mouth was beak-like and armed with a fearsome whorl of teeth in its upper and lower mandibles that could slash through flesh and bone like twin buzz saws. Then it was upon him – a raving mass of bestial destruction and in an instant he was in the battle of his life.
As the monster lunged at him Lorentz swung his boat hard to port. The thing missed him by a yard as he madly trimmed his sail. The horrific beast plunged within the sea. Spray drenched the frightened man, a wave slapped the outrigger. The craft shuddered. Lorentz looked down, saw the thing turn with all the suppleness of a serpent. Again it breached the surface, leapt at him. Lorentz ducked. The huge blue-grey body arched above his craft in a narrow miss, disappeared beneath the waves and swept around to attack again.
Wishing for the archer’s bow was useless. Lorentz cursed himself for leaving it behind. He snatched a javelin from a rack upon the gunwale, stood precariously as the outrigger skimmed across the waves. Behind him the racing creature closed the distance. He waited tensely, his arm drawn back in preparation to cast the poisoned missile.
Its monstrous head broke through the water, horrid maw frightfully agape. Lorentz fought down his fear, his eagerness to cast the weapon. It wasn’t yet quite close enough. The creature put on a burst of speed. It drew closer, nearer still to the racing craft. Then it was upon him and he hurled the javelin with all his brawny might and kicked the tiller hard over.
The javelin plunged within the monster’s gaping maw as the craft swerved violently. Lorentz lost his balance, fell overboard. His hand clamped on the gunwale as the boat lost speed with the change of wind direction. The waves dragged at his straining arm, threatened to break his hold as the creature crashed upon the surface in an explosive spray of brine. The thing convulsed wildly as the potent poison burned like raging fire. Lorentz madly hauled himself aboard as the waves from its lashing body threatened to swamp the becalmed outrigger. Reining in his wild panic he dashed through the flying spray for the luffing sail, trimmed the flapping sheet. The sail belled and boat picked up speed. It pulled away from the writhing monster and the panting man sat heavily upon a thwart.
Delayed reaction set in and long minutes went by before his trembling limbs stilled, but at last Lorentz regained his composure and once again set his craft on a northward heading. The hours passed and he divided his time between sailing and keeping a nervous and vigilant eye on the seemingly innocent depths. But his fears proved needless for no further threat manifested itself and by noon he came within sight of land.
The island stretched out before him – a wide crescent bay that rose into forested hills which marched to east and west, disappearing into the haze of distance. Sailing vessels of many kinds and sizes, ranging from small craft similar to his to large cargo ships resembling catamarans plied the water, and he estimated that over a hundred were moored in the huge harbour.
As Lorentz sailed into port he was well aware of the huge risk he was taking. He was now the alien – a stranger in a strange land, ignorant of its people and their ways. He hoped he could lose himself in the crowd and go unnoticed - just another sailor. The substantial city that lined the foreshore and mounted some distance into the hills suggested it was the maritime hub of the region and from its size might possess a population of perhaps twenty thousand.
The predominantly circular buildings, buttressed with huge pillars, were low and massive. The roofs were ribbed domes. The windows were narrow slits with heavy shutters. Shades of black and grey predominated with white highlights. The overall appearance of the conurbation was that of a fortress – not a particularly inviting sight. Lorentz grimaced as he steered for a wharf where smaller craft similar to his own were moored.
At the moment his plans were nebulous. He had some money, and although he wasn’t sure as to its value it probably wasn’t much - perhaps enough for a simple meal and a night’s lodgings. When that ran out he might be able to find work as a stevedore on the waterfront. All he could do was carefully observe what the locals did, imitate them as best he could and hope he survived. No doubt the crew of the Venture were wildly excited by the data his implanted sensors were conveying to them. They could enjoy all the thrills without any of the danger. Lorentz made an insulting gesture skyward and hoped they saw it.
Calming himself Lorentz moored his outrigger, disembarked and climbed the causeway of the high sea wall. No one stopped or questioned him, much to his relief. The docks were a crowded hive of frenetic activity. Shouts and earthy curses assailed his ears. Pungent odours from strange cargos invaded his nose and made him sneeze. Teams of burly men staggered under the weight of massive chests while others drew carts piled high with miscellaneous goods from distant islands, the merchandise being taken to and from massive bunker-like warehouses.
He leapt from the path of a wealthy merchant’s palanquin and was subjected to the lurid language of the man’s retainers. Lorentz fought through the jostling crowd, leaned against a wall and wiped the sweat from his brow. The place seemed like a madhouse with the inmates running the asylum. A doorway of what appeared to be a tavern beckoned and he quickly stepped within, eager to escape the raucous bedlam all about him.
Although the place was crowded it was much quieter when compared to what was going on outside, and as Lorentz ran his eyes over its motley patrons - sailors, off duty stevedores and brazen whores who could be identified by their utter lack of clothes - his gaze alighted on a group of thuggish fellows clad in lacquered leather armour reinforced with large brass studs. They were a brutal looking lot, their ugly faces scarred with sword and dagger cuts, and their overall demeanour was one of violence ready to explode at the slightest provocation.
Lorenz wasn’t a coward, but he wasn’t a fool, either. He sought a table as far as possible from the dangerous looking trio, for discretion is certainly the better part of valour. But as he moved away one villainous fellow chanced to glance in his direction, his eyes widening in startled recognition.
Instantly the brute was on his feet, finger pointing like a dagger thrust. “By the blood of Ettic,” he cried in disbelief, “it’s him!”
The guard’s companions shot erect, swords hissing from their scabbards like steel serpents, stools clattering to the floor. A strumpet screamed. Patrons wisely bolted for the door. They jammed the exit as half a dozen, all at once, tried to force their squirming bodies through the narrow portal. Lorentz cursed. Escape was blocked. Grimly, he drew sword and dagger as his hard faced foes rushed to capture him.
“Better sheath your blades least you cut yourself, Prince Atu,” snarled one charging guard contemptuously
“The only one getting cut is you,” replied Lorentz as with his dagger he hooked a tankard on a nearby table and swiftly hurled it in his first assailant’s face.
The man cursed as the spicy beverage burned his eyes. He staggered back, and then the fellow shrilly screamed as Lorentz sank a foot of steel in his guts. But two can play that kind of game: The second guard grabbed a platter, hurled it like a discus at Lorentz. Hard bronze struck his head a glancing blow as he tried to duck the heavy tray.
Lorentz saw stars, hit the floor. His second foe, intent on capturing him alive, leapt on him like a crazed gorilla. Lorentz grunted under the impact of the heavy body. He heaved, twisted violently and flung off his assailant before the man could smash the pommel of his sword against his head.
Then Lorentz rolled beneath another table, scattering several patrons who were cowering behind it. Like Atlas he set his shoulders beneath the bench, heaved with utmost violence and flung the weighty board upon his second foe as the fellow tried to stand.
The hapless man went down with a yell, but the third guard was upon Lorentz before he could grab his fallen weapons. Lorentz dodged the warrior’s swiftly lunging blade and flung himself at the man in utter desperation. He slammed his fist against the fellow’s jaw with strength that would have snapped a human’s neck as if it were a twig.
His opponent dropped his blade, crashed against a table and grabbed it for support. Lorentz came at him, swinging. His foe weaved. They clinched. Lorentz drove his knee into the fellow’s groin, but without effect. In the heat of battle he’d forgotten that unless aroused the males of the species kept their sexual organs retracted in their pubic cavity. It was an error that proved his swift undoing – the fellow he’d thrown the table on pushed it off and staggered to his feet as Lorentz struggled with his other foe.
The guard behind him grinned savagely. He swung his sword and with its flat struck the man he thought Prince Atu on the head. Lorentz’s knees buckled. He crashed senseless to the floor. The wild brawl was over.
In the silence of the now deserted tavern the two guards stared at Lorentz as they caught their breath.
“By the blood of Ettic,” gasped the one he’d just been wrestling with. “I thought the prince was supposed to be a coward. If he can fight like this why flee from his uncle’s challenge, especially considering he was the rightful heir of Chenna?”
“Quiet, you fool,” snarled the other in swift reproach as he quickly looked about the empty tavern. “Talk like that can get you shortened by a head. Now, help me bind the prince and get him out of here. The city watch can attend to Motu’s corpse. I never liked that braggart anyway.”
“Bind him? Why not cut his throat? Dead he can’t cause any further trouble.”
“His uncle may pay a little more to have the pleasure of doing that himself. Now, let’s to the task for I’m eager to feel my purse weighed down by coins.”
**********
Lorentz regained consciousness. His head ached horribly. He was bound hand and foot with leather thongs that had been cut from his kilt-like garment, and he was lying in a small cart his captors had commandeered. Wincing in pain he struggled to a sitting position and looked around. One guard was pulling the cart while the other strode behind it to keep a wary eye on the prisoner.
“No more trouble from you,” harshly warned this fellow, “or the next time I strike it will be with the edge rather than the flat.”
Lorentz stoically ignored the threat. That he was an important man with a price on his head was now clear. It would be useless to claim he wasn’t really Atu. There were times when even he found it difficult to believe what had been done to him, and if he tried to convince these people of the astounding truth they’d think he was either an unmitigated liar or a dangerous madman.
Surreptitiously, he tested his bonds and silently cursed. His captors had been extremely thorough. There was no possibility of him breaking free at the moment. The only thing he could do was hope that some circumstance would arise that would enable him to escape, and with this in mind Lorentz commenced to scrutinize his surroundings and discovered he was now some distance from the waterfront.
The street he was travelling on appeared to service a residential district. Squat fortress-like houses lined both sides of the cobbled way; their ribbed dome-roofs rising above high walls pierced with vault-like doors of an iron bound hardwood resembling ebony.
The whole aspect of the city was of Spartan severity and stark utility. The only meagre concession to ornamentation was simple frieze work in the form of the Greek key that adorned the buildings and the walls that enclosed their small gardens, which were entirely practical, being planted out with vegetables and medicinal herbs.
Lorentz shifted his gaze to the scattering of pedestrians. Here palanquins predominated, indicating that the district he traversed was a well-to-do area, possibly the abode of the mercantile class. But even so, the only thing that set them apart from the plebeians he’d seen at the waterfront was the fact they rode in litters.
There was no sign of gold or silver on their persons, no evidence of jewellery of any kind. Their garments were leather kilt-like affairs embossed with simple patterns, and dyed either black, shades of grey or tones of brown, or a combination of these colours. Again, the sheer lack of ornamentation struck Lorentz, and he could only surmise that its absence might indicate a significant difference between these people’s nature and that of humankind.
Lorentz's thoughts shifted to his fate. Did a horrid death await him? It seemed a distinct possibility, and he wondered if he’d be able to bravely face the end. For a moment he teetered on the verge of utter despondency. Perhaps even such a fate would be more merciful than long years of loneliness on the margins of an alien society - loveless, isolated, and unable to fit in because his inner nature was human.
With an effort Lorentz fought against the black cloud of hopelessness that threatened to engulf him. It was a long and difficult struggle, but by the time the cart had arrived at his captor’s destination he had largely won the hard fought battle.
Feeling better, Lorentz again took an interest in his surroundings. They had debouched from the street into a huge plaza, largely empty. At the far side of the expansive square was a mighty structure significantly different from the other buildings of the city, and if anything was even more fortress-like in appearance.
Its base, approximately one thousand feet to a side, rose to form a truncated pyramid one hundred and forty feet in height, the plane of the truncation being accessed by switchback ramps. As Lorentz gazed in awe at the huge platform he saw that a building had been constructed on its flat pinnacle. The ground plan of the structure was that of a six pointed star, its huge walls, which must have been at least one hundred feet in height, were buttressed with massive towers. The whole impression he received was of intimidating size and immovable solidity.
Lorentz’s captors pulled the cart to the foot of the pyramid’s ramp, hauled him from the conveyance and cut the thongs about his ankles with the brutal warning that if he caused any trouble they’d cut his throat as well.
After passing the challenge of the guards at the foot of the ramp they began the arduous ascent. Lorentz looked about as they climbed; hoping to discern some means of escaping his predicament, but what he saw wasn’t encouraging.
Barbicans had been constructed at midpoint on the ramps, and before each barbican was a spike studded pit crossed by a drawbridge. Stone galleries overlooked the ramps from strategic positions, and from these the defenders could unleash a storm of arrows on any invading foe.
They passed through the outer defences of the fortress and gained the upper surface of the mighty platform – an artificial hill in reality. Here, a dry mote surrounded the curtain wall of the fortress whose star shape plan was designed to funnel attackers into the narrow space between the points where they could be slaughtered by missiles launched in crossfire from the lofty battlements.
Crossing another drawbridge Lorentz and his captors entered the guardhouse of the fortress where, after a brief discussion with an officer, his guards manhandled him down narrow stairs that twisted into the bowels of the mighty platform, the claustrophobic way illuminated by glowing rods his captors held aloft – wooden batons coated with a phosphorescent substance.
After a long spiralling descent they emerged into a small chamber with a deep well in its centre. Lorentz’s guards forced him to the edge of the shaft. He looked down into the unnerving blackness of the yawning pit whose sides vanished into stygian depths, seemingly bottomless. Chill fear came upon Lorentz as he gazed worriedly into the well’s black throat. What it was he faced he did not know. That it boded ill for him he had no doubt.
Hope replaced Lorentz’s sense of helplessness as a guard began to cut the thongs about his wrists. This was the moment he’d been waiting for – the moment when he’d be free of all restraint. Forcing himself to remain outwardly placid he prepared to explode into action, to make a wild and desperate break for freedom.
The final thong was severed, but before he could so much as move a muscle the other guard swiftly lunged against him. Lorentz yelled. He tumbled into the shaft, arms and legs windmilling madly as he was swallowed up by a maw of inky darkness, and to the falling man, stabbed by wild fear, the blackness seemed a foretaste of coming oblivion.
Lorentz plunged into an abyss of black terror. Fear tore at him like a savage beast. He screamed madly, struck bottom and bounced as if he’d hit a trampoline. The man was flung crazily about, struck a wall and cried in pain. Again he was spun head over heels – a mad nightmare whirl in utter darkness. Gradually, Lorentz’s wild ride diminished, and at last he came to rest and lay breathless, heart racing as his trembling hands gripped the strange surface he’d landed on.
Slowly, it dawned upon Lorentz that it was a circular net of thick elastic ropes. Below him in the darkness he heard the rush of swiftly flowing water. He thrust his arm through the net, but his questing hand encountered nothing more than black emptiness that foully stank.
Rising to his knees Lorentz began to look around, his cat-like eyes now accustomed to the gloom, and he was startled to see a figure crouching up against the wall, obviously to avoid an impact from his heavy body as it was being flung wildly about.
It was the figure of a naked girl. Their eyes met. His widened in surprise, but her gaze narrowed in angry recognition, and in an instant all the bitter feelings of abandonment welled up within her – that she had been left to face her enemies alone. The girl’s face became a study in wild fury. Words failed her. Only violence would suffice to vent her rage at his desertion of her, and in an instant she was leaping at him with all the fury of an enraged lioness.
She smashed against him like a gridiron player. Both went down, the woman pummelling him with wild blows. Lorentz cursed, tried to shove her off. She sank her teeth into his hand. He howled in pain and fury and drove his fist against the side of her head with such force that she was flung unconscious to the net.
Muttering oaths Lorentz nursed his injuries as he frowningly gazed upon her, his anger slowly giving way to curiosity. Obviously she knew him, but who was he to her and why had she attacked him?
He looked at her face. It was a little softer than his, less broad. Her ears, similar to his, were set close to the head beneath the rim of her skull’s protective carapace. The girl’s eyebrows met above the bridge of her broad nose as did his. They shared the same golden cat-like eyes.
Her chest, like that of a bodybuilder, was heavily muscled as were her arms and legs. Her breasts were small and the large sensitive nipples retracted into protective vulviform structures. The woman’s belly was flat. Her hips were broad, which saved her stocky body from shapelessness. Her genitals seemed similar to those of a human woman, but Lorentz felt it would be improper of him to look too closely.
The girl groaned. Her eyes flickered open. Lorentz quickly pinned her arms and legs to the net least she attack him again.
“Don’t worry,” he said as she began to struggle wildly. “I’m not going to rape you. Promise you won’t attack me and I’ll let you go.”
The girl stilled her struggles, shocked by his words. She gazed at him strangely. “Well,” she said slowly. “It’s good to know my brother isn’t adding incest to his cowardice, at least.”
“Um,” replied Lorentz as he quickly let her go and stepped away.
Each stared at the other in silence. Lorentz was embarrassed and lost for words, while the girl’s anger had given way to puzzlement, for she sensed a strange change had come upon the man she believed to be her brother.
The tableau was broken by a light shining down from above. Both prisoners looked up. A wooden sphere coated in the same phosphorescent substance as the glowing rods was being lowered into the well-like prison to illuminate it.
“Ah, brother and sister together again,” drawled a mocking voice. “What a happy reunion. Pity I wasn’t here to see it.”
“Must you insult me further with your presence,” cried the girl. “Get out! The darkness, the vermin and the stench are preferable to your foul company.”
The man, dimly discernible in the light, laughed. “Ah Janwayu, you’re as fiery as ever, I see. Why do you resist me? Surely the fresh air and sunshine beckon. Why not end your foolishness and consent to be my queen, for am I not now king? Is it not a small price to pay for your freedom?”
“I’ve already given you may answer, uncle Vasma,” hotly cried the girl. “If I married you I'd just be exchanging imprisonment for slavery. All you care about is power. To you I’d be just another conquest. Take your offer to a portside whore, you debased reprobate.”
The man laughed arrogantly, confidently. “A ten-day in the dungeon with little food will change your mind.”
Then, turning his attention to Lorentz he continued: “Ah, the coward prince, my dear nephew. How did you escape the assassins? The last I heard from my spies they were pursuing you across the Sea of Zath. Did the storm blow you back upon our shores?”
“Come down here and I’ll show you how much of a coward I am,” boldly challenged Lorentz.
“What?” gasped Vasma in a mocking manner. Has Prince Atu discovered courage? Can this be the same callow youth who fled from my challenge? Guard,” he continued derisively, “lower the light so I may better see this miracle.”
Lorentz grinned as inspiration struck him. As the dull light was lowered he bounced upon the net, leaping high into the air. He landed knees fully bent and sprang again, soaring swiftly like a cast javelin. The guard saw him shooting up into the light. The man gasped, hauled up the globe, but wasn’t quite fast enough.
Lorentz caught the rope just above the glowing sphere. He fell back, his weight jerking the guard before he could brace himself. The man yelled as he lost his balance and tumbled in the well. Lorentz let go the rope and bounced upon the net. The guard hit the elastic ropes, was flung into the air. Lorentz, still bouncing, lashed out with both feet and slammed the cursing man against the wall.
The hapless fellow crashed limply to the net as Lorentz fell upon his stomach and grabbed the ropes to still his wild bounding. Frenetic shouts of consternation sounded from above as he dashed to the unconscious guard and stripped the fellow of his clothes and weapons.
“Here,” he said, tossing the insensible man’s garment to the girl. “Put this on. We’re getting out of here.
A throwing knife whirled down and missed Lorentz by a foot as he slashed the netting with his captured sword.
“Careful, you fool,” cried Vasma. “You might strike the girl. I want her captured alive if possible. Get ropes and men; hurry.”
In but moments another falling line slapped against the wall. Lorentz glanced up as he tied his own rope to the net. He swore as he dropped the glowing sphere through the rent his weapon had made. In but moments a hoard of warriors would no doubt descend upon him. Sheathing his sword Lorentz turned to Janwayu who looked rather startled at the transformation of her brother from a coward to a man of action.
“Come on,” he said as he began climbing down the rope.
Janwayu hesitated. Below was the sewer where the dungeon’s prisoners voided their bladders and bowels through the netting and into its flowing water. She glanced up. Warriors were beginning to clamber down. What was worse – the sewers or her uncle? She chose the sewers in the hope she’d find a way to freedom there.
Lorentz shinned down the line as the girl followed. The glowing sphere disclosed the glint of murky water some fifty feet below from which rose a most obnoxious stench. Lawrence muttered an oath as he looked about. The place was unimaginably foul, but there was no turning back now.
Wrinkling his nose he descended further, and as he neared the glowing sphere he saw more clearly by its light, and much to his relief a railed stone walkway bordering the tunnel. Lorentz began swinging the rope. Shouts from above filtered down - the pursuing guards were gaining on them. Again he swung redoubling his efforts and managed to hook a leg onto the railing. Lorentz clambered over and held the rope as Janwayu quickly followed.
“What now,” she gasped as she swung across the rail.
“To the port,” he replied as he helped her, “and a fast sailboat.”
The girl wobbled her head in negation. “Our uncle is no fool. He knows that’s where we’ll be headed. The docks will be swarming with warriors before we reach them. Besides, the ends of the sewers are heavily barred where they empty into the bay. If that’s your plan I’m afraid it’s a dismal failure.”
Lorentz cursed. “Then what do you suggest?” he asked in exasperation.
Janwayu gave him a wry grin. “That’s the first sensible thing you’ve done so far, dear brother – ask for my advice.”
A flung throwing knife rang against stone, cutting off Lorentz’s hot rejoinder. He hurled his own dagger up into the darkness. The man clinging to a second rope the pursuers had lowered screamed; fell and was swallowed up by the foul water. Another warrior swung down the line and hurled a second blade. Lorentz ducked and the missile clanged against the wall.
“Quickly,” urged the girl. “Cut the rope, give me the light and follow where I lead.”
Lorentz complied and they fled as more flung blades sparked against the walkway. Down the tunnel they raced. Behind them they heard wild shouts as three warriors gained the path and set upon their heels with eager swiftness.
Janwayu slowed her pace as they neared a branching way. The girl had glimpsed what she’d hoped to find and held the glowing sphere aloft to better see it. “Here,” she gasped exultantly as she pointed at what seemed to be nothing more than a stone – one darker than the others that comprised the tunnel wall. Lorentz, breathing hard, stopped beside the girl as she pressed her palms against the block. Janwayu swore. “It’s jammed,” she cried.
A wild shout made Lorentz turn. The racing warriors were now mere yards away. “Whatever you’re doing you’d better hurry,” he warned.
The guards leapt at him as the girl struggled to depress the stone. Lorentz blocked a savage cut. He slammed his blade in the shoulder of the foe. The man fell away, screaming, blood gushing from his wound. Another howling foe came at him, sword darting with the swiftness of a striking snake. Lorentz sidestepped his opponent’s lunge and ran him through the throat.
His victim gurgled sickeningly, fell. But Lorentz’ blade, jammed deeply in the fellow’s neck, was dragged down with the tumbling body leaving him wide open. The remaining warrior - a giant of a man - aimed a vicious cut at him. Lorentz did the only thing he could - he lunged at his foe, left hand darting for the man’s sword arm and caught it by the wrist.
The whistling blade jarred to a halt just above Lorentz’s head as he drove his right fist against the startled fellow’s jaw. The guard’s head snapped back. His sword clattered to the stones as he was slammed against the rail by the wild blow. But despite the power of the punch the burly fellow shook it off and threw his ape-like arms about Lorentz in a crushing hold worthy of a silverback gorilla.
Lorentz gasped as he was lifted off the ground. It felt as if his ribs were about to snap like brittle matchwood. More savage shouts of encouragement rang out from up the tunnel as reinforcements slid down the rope to aid the grinning guard, and Lorentz knew with sick certainty that the foe would swiftly be upon him in overwhelming numbers. In utter desperation he slammed the bony brim of his carapace against the face of his opponent.
Blood spurted from the fellow’s broken nose. The man howled. His ape-like arms loosened. With a tremendous heave Lorentz broke the weakened hold, and with a mighty uppercut drove his foe against the railing. Then, stepping back he slammed a solid right with all his strength upon his sagging and dazed opponent’s chin – a pile driver of a punch that sent the warrior crashing in a senseless heap upon the stones.
Gasping, Lorentz leaned against the railing. He threw a glance up the tunnel and would have cursed had he the breath to do so – six warriors had gained the walkway and were now charging madly at him, their naked blades glinting in the murky light. He stumbled to the sweat streaked girl who was still struggling madly with the stone. He slammed his palms against the thing, added his strength to her frantic efforts.
The racing guards drew nearer. There was no time to flee. There was no place to run. Lorentz gritted his teeth. He strained mightily. Veins stood out on his swelling muscles like a roadmap. Somehow, he found within himself reserves of strength and with a mighty yell hurled it all against the stubborn mechanism. The stone sank within the wall. A hidden door creaked open. The charging warriors howled. One hurled his throwing knife. The flying blade rang on stone an inch from Lorentz’s head as he staggered within the narrow opening close upon Janwayu’s heels. The panting girl jerked a lever. The thick stone door slammed shut and locked in the faces of the raging foe.
Safe at last, or so thought Lorentz as he bent over, hands upon his knees, breathing hard from his feverish exertions. But his vast relief was swiftly proved to be a frail illusion – the girl took him completely by surprise. She swiftly looped about his neck the length of rope depending from the glowing globe, and in an instant he was being viciously and unexpectedly garrotted.
Lorentz’s hands flew to the rope about his neck. His fingers clawed desperately, eased the brutal pressure. Janwayu cursed. She jerked the rope with savage force and flung him to the floor, then shoved a knee into his back and heaved. Lorentz’s spine arched, the rope tightened like a noose. He couldn’t breathe. His vision began to fade. His clawing fingers grew weak and his hands fell limply to the floor. Death hovered near, eager; malefic as it stretched out its grim hand to carry him away.
But then, as the chill hand of dark oblivion was about to fall upon him the frightful pressure on his neck swiftly eased. Lorentz gasped air into his heaving lungs. He coughed and gasped again as he lay as weak and helpless as a babe upon the stones, trembling and shaken to the core by his ordeal.
“Now,” said Janwayu, her steely voice breaking through his jittering mind, “you who wear my brother’s face, who are you? Is this some clever ploy of my uncle? No, do not deny your deception. When we were struggling with the door I saw the scar on your head – a scar my brother Atu never had, and one too old to be a recent injury.”
Lorentz desperately gathered his scattered wits. How could he explain to her his true origins and the advanced technology that had swiftly healed his injuries? It seemed a hopeless task considering the gulf in understanding that lay between them.
“Speak,” cried Janwayu with fuming impatience, “or I shall tighten this rope again, and not loosen it until you’re dead. Do you understand?”
Seeing he had no choice and feeling that the truth, no matter how outlandish it seemed, would serve him better than any lie he could swiftly concoct, Lorentz began to tell her of himself and his origins, and when he had completed his account Janwayu remained quiet for a time.
“You’ve told me a fantastic tale,” said the girl, at last breaking her thoughtful silence. “It seems impossible that it could be true, and yet what man would create such an implausible lie to save his life and seriously expect it to be believed?
“My brother is dead, yet not dead, and I do not know whether to weep or rejoice. You wear his body as you might his clothes, and beyond Majnoor, our world, are others that circle distant stars – stars I thought but lamps lit by the gods to illuminate their celestial abode.”
Again the girl fell silent. Lorentz sweated. Would she disbelieve him? Would he again know the terror of strangulation that would be his certain death this time? He thought of trying to free himself, but it was impossible for he had recovered only a fraction of his strength. There was nothing he could do but wait in expectant agony.
Janwayu stirred after what seemed an age. Her hands moved. Lorentz tensed. Was this the end for him – the fatal tightening of the noose? But death did not come as he had feared. Instead, the girl unwound the rope about his neck and set him free.
“This needs much consideration,” she said as she cautiously backed away from him, “and I don’t have the time right now. My enemies will soon bring tools to smash this door to rubble. You’ve helped me, so I’ll spare your life. I suggest we band together to fight a mutual foe.”
Lorentz gingerly touched his neck as he got to his feet. He gave Janwayu a hard look, but held his anger on a short leash. He knew she was right. He was a stranger in a strange land – alone, friendless and with savage foes upon his heels.
“Your suggestion is sensible,” he admitted. I agree. But what shall we do now?”
“We need a hostage – a life we can trade for our freedom. Follow me.”
“You mean Vasma, your uncle?” he asked as they set off down the passageway. “Why don’t I just challenge him to a dual as he challenged your brother, Atu? From what I glimpsed of him he doesn’t look like a fighting man to me.”
“He isn’t,” confirmed Janwayu. “But you forget that to everyone you’re Atu. Only I who know my brother well am prepared to doubt it. You’re in disgrace – an outcast because you ran away. Our nobles would never accept a coward for a ruler. You actions have forfeited all claims to the throne and my uncle, now king; can kill you with impunity and by any means that pleases him.
“Why did your brother flee?” he asked, puzzled. “I wear his body. I know it well. It is strong and healthy. If Vasma isn’t a warrior what is there to fear from him?”
“As a child Atu sliced his hand badly whilst playing with a dagger,” explained the girl. “Ever since then he has been terrified of being cut, a fear he did his best to hide by having a sword constantly by his side. My uncle somehow discovered his weakness and played upon it when our father, King Uthna, died ten days ago. He never did trust Vasma, and kept from him the secret of these hidden passageways.”
“Couldn’t you have challenged your uncle as he challenged Atu?” queried Lorentz.
“Women cannot rule,” replied Janwayu bitterly. “A man can be as brainless as a rock and yet be king,” she continued as she held up a fist – a mannerism her people used to emphasise a point.
Janwayu looked from her hand to the globe and frowned. “This light is growing even dimmer,” observed the girl. “The sphere is coated with a paint made from various powdered minerals. In order to restore its strength it must be placed in sunlight for a while. We’d best hurry before it fades entirely.”
The conversation lapsed into silence as they continued on, the way rising steadily upwards. Janwayu paused when the passage branched, and scrutinised the coded pictograms that indicated where the corridor led. After perhaps twenty minutes of worming their way through the network of tunnels the girl announced they were within the fortress-palace atop the huge platform.
“Quiet,” she cautioned in a whisper. “These passageways run between the walls, and any sound we make might be heard. Just ahead are the private chambers of the king. If we can take Vasma hostage then freedom will be ours.”
They carefully advanced some twenty yards before Janwayu called a halt and pressed her eye to a cylinder protruding from the wall, one that conveyed an image of the room beyond in the manner of a periscope. The girl muttered a low oath as her gaze fell upon the disclosed scene.
“He’s there, but surrounded by a dozen guards. He knows we’re free and isn’t taking chances. This is going to be harder than I thought. Have a look,” she invited, stepping clear of the device.
Lorentz peered into the chamber and was astounded. Although the exterior of the buildings exhibited a stark and Spartan functionality the interiors of their private rooms were a marked contrast, for as he was to learn public displays of wealth were frowned upon. The room was expansive. Its floor was inlaid with bright mosaics of an aquatic theme with many forms of sea life beautifully delineated. The walls were frescoed, the martial scenes ones of battling armadas, and here and there in niches were displayed a rich variety of statuettes, vases and curios from far and exotic lands.
Stationed about the room were heavily armed and alert guards. Vasma stood by a huge and ornate table in the centre of the room, surrounded by other men who seemed to be advisors. They were gazing at a large map spread out before them, upon which were coloured pieces resembling those of a board game.
“Your uncle is up to something,” whispered Lorentz. “I can’t hear what they’re saying, but the map they’re looking at and the pieces on it suggest they’re planning a military campaign.”
“I think so too. Atu would have been a peaceful ruler more interested in trade than war. Vasma, by contrast is ambitious and ....”
Janwayu’s words were cut off by an unnerving cry that echoed up the passageway. The girl cursed violently.
“They’ve breached the door,” she gasped, “and set vuwar on our scent. Those savage beasts will hunt us down without mercy. Quickly, we must get out of here.”
The girl swiftly led the way up the corridor. Lorentz looked behind him. His skin crawled in terror. Out of the darkness, barely discernible by the globe’s fading light loped three grim forms. The racing beasts were the size of Great Danes. Their canine bodies were covered in thick slate grey scales. Their heads were beaked, hawk-like and as vicious as a raptor. Again the pack howled – a bloodcurdling ululation that sent a shiver of terror up Lorentz’s spine as they raced towards him with frightening speed.
The girl skidded to a stop by another secret door. Lorentz grabbed the glowing sphere from her as the vuwar fell upon them. He swung the globe wildly as the beasts lunged. The creatures leapt away from the whirling ball, vented their horrid cries and lunged again, beaks snapping like monster shears.
Again Lorentz spun the globe. It smashed against a monster. The thing was hurled to the floor. It thrashed in pain, its beak shattered by the wild blow. The remaining vuwar sprang at the sphere whose momentum had been slowed. They caught the rope, tore it from his grasp. One beast leapt at him. He drove a brutal kick into its chest and dropped it to the stones. The other lunged. Lorentz hammered its ugly skull with his fist. The savage blow stunned the thing, but its hurtling body collided with the man and sent him crashing to the floor.
Lorentz swore as he struggled to shove the vuwar off. Both beasts were down but far from out. The one he’d kicked staggered to its feet, the other would recover in mere seconds. With an effort he lurched unsteadily erect as the risen beast crouched in readiness to spring. Lorentz reeled, still debilitated from his heavy fall. He couldn’t defend himself. A hand grabbed him as the monster was about to leap. Janwayu hauled him through the secret door. The girl slammed the panel. It shuddered under the impact of the springing vuwar’s heavy body, was driven open by about a foot. Janwayu cursed. The desperate couple threw their weight against the door as the enraged beast scrabbled at the stone, and with a mighty heave they rammed the panel closed.
Both leaned heavily against the wall of the small chamber, breathing hard from a combination of wild fear and exertion. Lorentz, having recovered somewhat, muttered an oath. “What took you so long to get that damn thing open?”
“You snatched the dying light from me, you oaf,” she snapped. “I could hardly see what I was doing in the darkness.”
Lorentz was on the verge of a hot reply when a gasp of surprise made him forget about the insult. He turned and saw that a young woman had been roused from her nap by the slamming of the door. The girl was different from the other females he’d seen so far. Her skin wasn’t the usual navy blue of the natives of Majnoor, but ivory in colour and her eyes, though cat-like were of a startling opalescent hue. Her clothing was also different – a knee-length robe of satiny material pale blue in colour. The girl’s face and figure, like her raiment, was more delicate than Janwayu’s, but even so there was a hint of subtle strength in the supple lines of her figure, and in the steadiness of her unflinching gaze.
All this Lorentz took in at a glance. But before he could enjoin her to silence violent hammering on the room’s entranceway drew his anxious gaze to the iron bound portal of the chamber.
“What goes on in there?” It was the guard outside the door. “I heard a noise. What was it?”
“I dropped something, that’s all,” loudly replied the ivory coloured girl, who saw potential in the unexpected appearance of the fugitives.
A key grated in the lock. The suspicious guard wasn’t taking any chances. Lorentz and Janwayu swiftly and silently rushed the door, stood on either side of it. The girl on the bed lay back and assumed an air of untroubled innocence.
She’s a cool one, thought Lorentz. Then the door swung open and he and Janwayu leapt upon the man. The girl snatched the guard’s dagger from its sheath as Lorentz grabbed his sword arm, and as he simultaneously clamped his hand upon his victim’s throat Janwayu slipped the stolen dagger between the hapless fellow’s ribs. The man stiffened. His eyes bulged. His drawn sword clattered to the floor.
The attack would no doubt have succeeded, but the falling blade alerted other warriors further up the hall that something was terribly amiss. In an instant half a dozen brawny men were running to investigate.
Lorentz heard the pounding of their feet. He tried to slam the door, but a thick set warrior threw himself against it like a living battering ram. The panel was flung violently inward by the terrific impact of his heavy body. The swinging door struck Lorentz, stunned him; hurled him to the floor. Six warriors swarmed within the room like angry hornets. They saw their dead comrade and with cries of hot outrage they advanced upon Lorentz, their naked steel raised to strike the helpless man.
“Stop, or I’ll kill Unla,” cried Janwayu as the guards were about to butcher her companion.
The warriors hesitated. Their eyes swung upon Janwayu as Lorentz grabbed his sword and rolled clear. Some swore while others blanched. The girl had dashed to the younger woman and now held a dagger to her throat.
“Fetch my uncle,” she commanded as Lorentz came and stood beside her. “I have his seer. Her life is in my hands. Now, all of you get out, or do I have to make her bleed to show I’m serious.”
The guards well knew the value their king placed upon his oracle and the horrid price they’d pay if the slightest harm befell her. The warriors didn’t hesitate, and the leader of the squad barked an order as they quickly left the room:
“Inform the king of what has happened,” he commanded a nervous subordinate.
Lorentz gave Unla a troubled look as the guards retreated. The girl could have betrayed them, but hadn’t and now she was their hostage with a dagger at her throat. The whole situation wasn’t to his liking, but he felt powerless, swept along by a tide of events largely beyond his control. By contrast the girl was astonishingly composed. She sat on the bed, relaxed and quietly calm, as if she hadn’t a care in the world.
He shifted his gaze to Janwayu. Unlike Ulna she was grim and as tense as a wound spring, ready to explode into action in an instant. What would he do if she made a move to harm the girl? His bleak thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Vasma. The king halted at the threshold of the room. His hands were balled into fists of rage and a tic twitched the harsh lines of his hawk-like face as he raked the fugitives with his narrow and burning gaze.
“It seems you have the advantage,” he ground out. “I assume you want your lives and your freedom in exchange for my oracle?”
Janwayu gave him a hard smile. “That is the essence of it, dear uncle. I want unobstructed passage to the docks and my choice of outriggers. But I warn you, both of us are desperate. Any treachery on your part and Unla dies.”
“And when do you plan to release her?” he snarled. “When you’re a thousand kaad away and well beyond my reach? If so, then she is lost to me and is as good as dead.” With an effort Vasma calmed and spoke more pleasantly. “No Janwayu, let her go. Again I offer you marriage. As queen you would have a far better life than as an exile in some distant land where your royal station may not be recognised.”
The girl laughed. “Trust you, uncle? You set your vuwar on me as a huntsman might upon his quarry. No, I think I’ve now become expendable and you’d have me killed the moment I release Unla.”
Vasma cursed her in frustration. He slammed his fist against the door. Lorentz could see a stalemate had been reached. The king’s temper was building like a thunderhead, and he feared the man was on the verge of being possessed by a rage that would make him act irrationally, violently.
“We’ll let her go at sea,” Lorentz suggested in a flash of inspiration. “A single man in an outrigger can follow us. We’ll release Unla into his care when Chenna disappears over the horizon. That way you can be assured of her return, and we have certainty of being beyond pursuit.”
Vasma seemed both genuinely surprised and pleased. Much of his anger abated. “Well, who could have thought Prince Atu capable of making such a sensible suggestion?” The king paused, his cunning mind thinking fast. He couldn’t ask Unla if the fugitives would keep their word – the seer had a blade to her throat, and would simply say what Janwayu wanted her to say. Then a clever plan came to his subtle mind. “I agree,” he announced. “Let us to the docks. The sooner I see the last of you and the quicker I have my oracle back the better. What say you, Janwayu?”
“I agree,” replied the girl, who was as eager to end the impasse as Vasma. “But before we leave I want our way completely free of people. I don’t trust you, uncle. If I so much as see a face peering from a window I’ll kill the girl.”
Vasma gave her a bland smile. Naturally,” he replied. “I’ll give the order at once. It should take about one kitai to have the task completed.”
“You can give your orders from here,” snapped the girl as Vasma made a move to depart. “As I said, I don’t trust you and I want my eyes to be continually upon you.”
“As you wish,” he replied blandly, then turned to the guards outside and issued his commands.
Time passed slowly for Lorentz as they waited. Janwayu and her uncle occupied themselves with a verbal dual of subtle threats and insults – a game he had neither the interest in nor the nature to play. Turning his attention to Unla, he sought to engage her in conversation, but the girl appeared to be in a trance-like state, as if her mind had freed itself from her body and was exploring distant, unseen realms.
He wondered how she could be so calm with death hovering so near. The girl was a silent enigma. Was she really a seer? Was she unconcerned because she could truly see the future and knew no harm would come to her? His rational scientific training made him think prophecy was a game of smoke and mirrors to deceive the gullible. But the Universe was vast. Who knew what powers alien minds might possess.
Lorentz’s thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of an officer who whispered something to Vasma. The king suppressed a smile, turned to Janwayu and spoke: “The way is clear. We can now depart."
Ulna came out of her trance, as if a part of her mind had been aware of her surroundings and all four left the room, Vasma in the lead where Janwayu could see him. The trip to the docks was tense, but uneventful. The king’s commands had been carried out and the streets were deserted as was the port when they arrived, the people being confined to their houses, and the sailors to their ships or taverns. Lorentz gathered food and water for the journey from a deserted marketplace and stuffed the items into a purloined sack. When he had completed his task Vasma guided the trio down the causeway of the high sea wall and to a small jetty where several outriggers were moored, one being occupied by a solitary sailor who would follow them.
“Do any of these craft meet your approval?” he asked.
Lorentz and the girl ran their eyes over the assembled vessels, and the man pointed out one whose trim lines and rigging indicated speed. The girl agreed. They boarded with their hostage and provisions. Lorentz cast off and set sail. A steady breeze filled the sheet and they were under way, heading out for the open sea.
It was only then that Janwayu relaxed and removed her dagger form Unla’s throat as she watched the solitary figure of her uncle, strangely unperturbed, diminish with increasing distance.
“Do not try and escape,” she warned the younger woman. “You will be released unharmed when we’re far enough at sea,” she continued, pointing at the other outrigger which was following them at a distance of about fifty yards.
“It is not you I wish to escape from,” replied Unla. “As you seek your freedom, so too do I.”
Janwayu gave her a hard look. “If I do not send you back my uncle will certainly pursue us. No, I cannot risk that. Back you must go, and back you will go, and I will have no arguments. Now, sit there and speak no more of this matter.”
Unla gave her an enigmatic smile. Janwayu frowned, muttered something uncomplimentary and then occupied herself with stowing their supplies. Unla shifted her gaze to Lorentz, tilted her head in a mannerism indicating interest and then moved to his side where he sat by the tiller.
“You look like Prince Atu,” she said without preamble. “But I sense that you are not. You are a stranger from a distant land, a land beyond those islands that we know, beyond those seas that we know, beyond all that we know.” Her large opalescent eyes looked into his, mysterious, compelling in the intensity of their shimmering gaze.
Without her having to ask, Unla’s mesmerising presence drew forth from him the story of his life: his boyhood years in California and his interest in space exploration from an early age that led to his career and culminated in him being selected for the journey to Majnoor, then his shipboard marriage to Ameena and how it was that he now wore the body of the Prince of Chenna.
“And what of yourself?” he asked when his words had run their lengthy course.
“My parents were poor fisher-folk in distant Lur,” began the girl as her memory rolled back the years, and the distant past became like yesterday. “I was born aanat – different from all the rest, marked by my pale skin and strange eyes as having supernatural powers – a blessing or a curse depending on your point of view.” Unla paused for a moment as a mixture of emotions swept across her face like windblown clouds.
“People fear that which is different,” she continued with an edge of bitterness to her voice. “My parents, perhaps out of fear of me, or perhaps out of fear of what their superstitious neighbours might do, gave me to the Temple of Pysee on the nearby sacred island that bears its holy name. Here I was raised by the sisterhood, and my latent oracular powers developed through their esoteric rites.
“I became quite famous for my prophecies, my celebrated abilities spreading far and wide. Fame, however, has its disadvantages,” she admitted ruefully. “Vasma heard of me, came to see me and enquired on matters concerning war and kingship. But the Sisterhood of Pysee are pacifists, and I was bound by their rules to refuse all guidance on anything that might lead to violence.
“Vasma left in a towering rage. We thought nothing of it at the time – merely the tantrum of an arrogant power hungry prince, of which there are many among the island-kingdoms. But we underestimated his ruthlessness and determination. Almost two yadis from the day the Black Assassins came in darkness and in stealth at his command, and by force carried me away. For the past yadis-shu I’ve been his slave, compelled to use my precognition under threat of torture to aid his plans to conquer Loth.
“You see,” she explained, “the cause of the looming conflict is commercial rivalry, with the victor gaining a monopoly on access to the rich markets of the Confederacy of Ogena – a league of archipelago-kingdoms far to the east. Chenna and Loth’s mercantile fleet transport precious goods from the Confederacy to the Western Isles. Vast profits can be made from these trading ventures, and both Chenna and Loth see their commercial rivalry as a battle for survival. Prince Atu favoured a treaty based on equal access to Ogena’s wealth, but for Vasma nothing less than total domination will suffice.”
Unla fell silent. She looked behind her to the trailing outrigger and Lorentz could tell she was thinking of her forced return to captivity, a situation he was determined to prevent now he knew she was being held against her will. The troubled man shifted his gaze to Janwayu. The older woman was staring out to sea, looking in the direction they were sailing, and although her back was to them he was sure she’d been listening carefully to every word they’d said.
Lorentz’ lips thinned. Janwayu was pragmatic to the point of ruthlessness. An appeal to the lofty ideals of freedom (except where it applied to herself) would no doubt fall on deaf ears. Self interest, however, might prove a more persuasive argument.
“Why not take Unla with us,” he suggested. “She has knowledge of Vasma’s invasion plans – information that the king of Loth would be most grateful for, and in return reward us handsomely. Surely you’d prefer a villa to a hovel for a home?”
Janwayu turned to face him. “I’ve thought of that,” she said with a touch of irritation. “But I’ve no desire to become embroiled in a war and risk being on the losing side. No, I have another destination in mind. I’ll tell you what course to set when Unla is aboard the other outrigger and has sailed out of sight.”
“My oracular powers can aid you greatly,” interjected Unla. “The journey is perilous, and I can give you advanced warning of potential threats.”
Janwayu gave her a thin smile. “You failed to predict your own capture. I think your so called powers merely consist of telling fools what they want to hear. No, I’ve more faith in my own judgment than your mummery.” Then, to Lorentz: “Bring us to a stop. Chenna has passed over the horizon. It is time for this witch to depart.”
Lorentz opened his mouth to vehemently refuse, but Unla laid her hand gently on his arm. “Do as she says. Let fate run its course. Then we’ll see.”
Reluctantly, Lorentz reefed their sail. Their outrigger slowed and, hand on sword, he warily watched the following craft close the distance. With the passing of perhaps ten minutes the other vessel bumped against them, prow to stern, and its single occupant – a harmless looking fellow with a nervous disposition spoke.
“Please allow the oracle to come aboard,” he said meekly.
Unla turned to Lorentz. “Look behind you,” she sharply warned.
Lorentz turned, swore. The three Black Assassins, who had been clinging to a rope running from bow to stern beneath the keel of the other outrigger and breathing through thin tubes that pierced the bottom of her hull, were now hauling themselves across the gunnels of his craft, wicked knives clenched between their teeth.
Janwayu cursed her uncle, drew her knife. The couple’s eyes were focused on the deadly killers. They did not see the harmless looking sailor whip a concealed blade form beneath his kilt-like garment. The mask of innocence had dropped and behind it was unholy murder. The man sprang at Lorentz with the swift and silent fury of a pouncing tiger; his slim dagger plunging towards his distracted victim’s unprotected back.
As the sailor lunged at Lorentz Unla leapt upon the man, her unexpected attack catching him by surprise. They collided, tumbled overboard in a mighty splash as the other assassins, seeing they had been discovered, swiftly hurled their weapons at the startled couple.
Lorentz ducked one whipping blade; Janwayu dodged another but the third struck her shoulder. Lorentz swung his sword and split the thrower’s skull as Janwayu stumbled back with a cry of pain and collapsed in the bottom of the boat.
By now the surviving killers were in Lorentz’s outrigger. Both drew their secondary daggers, hurled the deadly blades. Lorentz deflected one with his sword. The other grazed his ribs as he swayed aside, and as he did the lead assassin slipped beneath his guard, stabbing upwards with his tertiary weapon. Lorentz managed to grab his knife hand by the wrist and tried to brain the killer with the pommel of his sword, but the wily murderer gripped his wrist in a similar manner and stilled the fatal blow.
Both wrestled desperately as the other assassin waited for an opening to aid his fellow slayer. Janwayu valiantly sought to help her comrade as he grappled with his wild foe, but as the girl struggled up the cunning killer tripped Lorentz. Janwayu cried in pain as he crashed upon her, driving the knife deeper into her wound. The killer brutally twisted Lorentz’s wrist and he gasped in agony as his sword was wrenched violently from his hand. With a grin of evil triumph the assassin prepared to split his victim’s skull with the captured blade. Lorentz was down but not out. Desperately he fought through pain. He lashed out with both his feet, drove his heels against his enemy’s shin. The killer screamed, fell overboard.
But now the remaining murderer stepped back and drew more throwing knives from the belt about his waist. Lorentz knew he was doomed. Flat on his back he had no chance to avoid the flying steel as the remorseless killer drew back his arm to swiftly cast his deadly blade. But as he was about to hurl death upon the fallen man the Black Assassin gasped and stiffened, and then collapsed face down in the bottom of the boat, another blade protruding from his back.
Unla hauled herself aboard and wrenched the throwing knife from the killer’s corpse.
“Are they all dead?” she asked, breathing hard as she looked warily about. “I thought I glimpsed one fall overboard as I was battling in the water with the sailor.”
A sword punched through the keel of the outrigger in sudden answer to her question and Unla leapt back in alarm.
“He is scuttling us,” cried the oracle. “When their mission fails the Black Assassins commit suicide and if they can take their victims with them to the grave.”
Lorentz swore. “Unla,” he cried as he snatched up the dead assassin’s knife, “Janwayu is wounded. Help her aboard the other outrigger.”
Without waiting for a reply Lorentz plunged into the sea. In the crystal clear water he saw the killer punch a second hole through the keel of their craft. The assassin wrenched his blade free and swiftly swam for the other outrigger. Lorentz went after him, propelling his body through the water with powerful strokes, desperate to stop the killer before he could wreck the remaining vessel.
Lorentz put on a burst of speed as the assassin reached the other boat, but it was too little too late – the killer drove his sword through the hull of the craft as Lorentz reached him and plunged his dagger into the back of the suicidal saboteur. The assassin writhed. Blood and bubbles burst from his mouth as he died.
Pushing the corpse away, Lorentz was about to inspect the damage when he glimpsed half a dozen creatures, attracted by spilt blood, rushing at him. The man went cold as he looked upon the things. Their heads were all mouth, their gaping jaws like bear traps. Their black bodies were bullet-shaped and jet propelled in the manner of a squid. They came at him in a rush as he scrambled aboard, leaping and snapping at his heels as he hauled himself across the gunnels of the craft and collapsed exhausted in the bottom of the outrigger.
Both women were several feet away. Unla was bandaging Janwayu’s wound with cloth torn from the hem of her robe. The girl turned, alerted by the boarding of the man.
“Are you injured?” she asked worriedly as her eyes ran over him.
“Nothing serious,” he replied. “But what of Janwayu’s wound?”
“I’ll live,” weakly answered the girl. “Best you look to the boats. Ours is sinking fast, and this one will surely follow.”
Lorentz threw a glance behind him and his face went grim at what he saw. Their outrigger was almost completely submerged and the water now seethed with numerous creatures that tore at the corpses of the foe in a savage feeding frenzy. Any attempt to salvage their supplies would be suicidal with the teeming creatures all about.
The man shifted his anxious gaze to the craft they now occupied. The assassin’s sword still protruded from the keel, plugging the hole. But even so water was slowly seeping in, and it would be only a matter of time before they sank beneath the waves. Lorentz scanned the vastness of the empty sea, his face set in dour lines that matched their desperate situation, and as he turned in a circle his keen eyes discerned a small speck on the distant horizon – a dot of blackness that gave him hope.
“There,” he said, pointing. “It’s an island, I’m certain. If we bail I’m sure we can reach it.”
Janwayu grimaced as she eased herself to a sitting position and looked. The girl went pale when her eyes alighted upon the speck of land.
“Zadra,” she gasped. “It can only be Zadra, the forbidden island – an accursed land that has swallowed up all sailors who have set foot upon its black shore. No, we cannot go there; it would be tantamount to suicide. It is marked on every chart with a death’s-head. We will vanish mysteriously, never to be seen or heard from again, as have all those doomed souls who preceded us.”
“We have no choice,” Unla pointed out. “Our outrigger needs repairs, and your wound requires treatment with healing herbs that are common to the islands of the region. Besides, whatever threats Zadra may possess cannot be greater than the death we already face.”
Janwayu looked at her with scepticism. “Brave words, indeed,” she said, “ones I would not expect from someone raised by pacifists.” Then sarcastically: “Or as an oracle do you see there is no threat to fear?”
“The world beyond the gardens of the Temple of Pysee is a very different place,” admitted Unla, slightly nettled, “and I must change to meet changed circumstances. As for my powers: they are like your vision – the further something is in space the more difficult it is to see. For me the further something is in time the more difficult it is to perceive. Danger lies in the future, but its precise nature is still unclear to me.”
“Prophecy, indeed,” replied Janwayu with disgust as she lay back, weak from loss of blood. “Very well, let us to the island then since we have no choice. Just spare me your contrived excuses for prophetic imprecision and I’ll die content.”
**********
Lorentz and Unla hauled the outrigger onto Zadra’s beach of black sand, dragging it up beyond the high tide mark and to the fringes of the ominous jungle. Both were dead tired from the physical and mental stress of the harrowing voyage – the constant bailing as the water seeped in incessantly: a race which they must not lose, and the ever present fear of sinking in an ocean swarming with fearsome predators. But now the hours of their nightmare journey were at an end. They had made it, but what new threats awaited them?
Wiping the sweat from his face Lorentz turned his gaze to the tropical forest and looked upon the shadowed ranks of trees confronting him. They were squat but massive, and their immense limbs spread laterally for many yards, propped up by thick trunks that had grown down from the branches to support their heavy weight. From these lateral branches sprouted other smaller limbs that ramified into mushroom shaped crowns covered in stiff blade-like leaves variegated in ivory and sapphire. The bark was glossy black, and consisted of overlapping plates in the manner of a serpent’s scales.
The undergrowth was dense despite the shadows cast by the thick canopy, and predominantly consisted of columnar man-tall plants whose enormous ovoid leaves were jet black in hue to absorb every ray of light, no matter how faint, that fell upon them. Bursts of colour could be glimpsed in the darkness – rose-like flowers of intense yellow and crimson that must have been at least a foot in diameter, hung from snaking lianas.
A sense of ominous oppressiveness swathed the scene like an invisible miasma. Lorentz turned to Unla with a questioning look.
“I feel it too,” admitted the girl, worriedly. “There is something here, but it hides itself from me in a haze of shadows that my inner vision cannot penetrate.”
“Then the sooner you find your herbs and I repair the boat the better,” replied Lorentz, not bothering to hide his anxiety. “Now, we’d best see if Janwayu is awake.”
The beaching of the outrigger had roused the injured girl. Her wound – one which would have hospitalised a human - had stopped bleeding, and she had regained much strength thanks to the toughness of her alien metabolism. But even so Lorentz had to assist her from the outrigger. The trio then ate star-shaped, sugary fruit Unla gathered from the fringes of the jungle, and rested for a time to regain their strength.
“Stay here Janwayu,” advised Lorentz when he saw his companions were revitalised. “I will look for materials to plug the hole while Unla searches for medicinal plants. We’ll be as quick as we can.”
Janwayu looked past him to the forest and shuddered. “I do not consider myself a coward,” she said gravely. “But there is something about this place which makes me feel it is unwise to be alone. I will come with you. I’m strong enough to walk.”
Lorentz made no objections, and after removing the sword from the hull of the outrigger all three set out towards the forest and entered its shadowed depths, which closed upon them like the hand of a dark Titan.
They had pushed through the dense undergrowth for a dozen yards when they were stopped by what could only be a hedge, such was the regularity of the outlandish shrubs that stretched to left and right, vanishing into the shadowed depths of the mysterious forest. Each plant glistened wetly from an oily exudation. All were approximately four feet in height, and consisted of six crimson pitcher-shaped structures – modified leaves - that sprouted from a partially exposed succulent rhizome resembling a black dome shaped from frozen bubbles. A ring of dark leaves resembling Elkhorn fronds grew around the base of the pitcher-form structures to complete the growth’s outlandish appearance.
Lorentz turned to his companions. “Clearly, we are not alone. Someone planted out this hedge. The question is should we continue, or turn back?”
“What is there to go back to?” asked Unla. “A damaged boat that cannot carry us away, that is all. I have not found my herbs, nor have you located resin with which to seal the hole. No, we must go on, but with increased caution. There is danger here, very close, but its exact nature eludes me.”
“I agree, seconded Janwayu when both sought her opinion. “There is no other choice. But first let us look about for threats.”
All eyes scanned the jungle intently, but no menace could be perceived. The only noise was the rustle of small life as it mated, fought and died in the undergrowth, and the only movement was the leaves as they were tousled by the playful wind.
Seeing no signs of danger that would give them reason to retreat, the trio began to stealthily push their way through the densely planted hedge, but as they began to do so their touch caused clouds of fine silvery filaments, expelled by compressed air, to unexpectedly erupt from the pitcher-shaped structures of the growths - filaments which fell upon them in a sticky web of swiftly ensnaring strands.
Taken completely by surprise, Lorentz muttered an oath. The lengthy threads clung to him in a shroud, seemingly harmless until he tested his strength against them. At first he was surprised, then alarm came upon him – the thread-like strands were as strong as steel wire, yet elastic and the more he struggled the more entangled he became in the gluey net.
“Stop,” he cried in alarm to his companions. “Keep still. Thrash about and you’ll only trap yourself.”
But his warning came too late. Both women had reacted as he had, and were completely ensnared by the adhesive threads. To make matters worse they had bumped against each other in their struggles and were now completely helpless, stuck together in a tangle of arms and legs. Lorentz cursed. He tried to use his sword to free himself and aid the girls, but his arms were pinned to his sides.
Janwayu uttered a string of profanities, more annoyed than alarmed by their predicament, but this soon changed with Unla’s sharp command.
“Quiet,” hissed the seer. “Something is coming. I can sense it. There, in front of us – a movement in the undergrowth.”
All eyes turned to the fore. Fear laid its hand upon Lorentz’s heart. Something lurked in the shadows, casting the aura of its presence before it – cold, inhuman, more alien than anything he had experienced. He was helpless – immobile, ensnared, and vulnerable. His muscles swelled with effort in a desperate bid to break the gluey web that wrapped him mummy-like, but it was impossible – the tough elasticity of the numerous sticky strands bound him with the strength of unbreakable steel chains.
The bushes rustled with the passage of the thing. Lorentz became frantic as it came closer and closer. He had never considered himself lacking courage, but to be trapped before this unknown terror and unable to defend himself filled him with such fear as he’d never known before.
Then it came into view as a ray of sunlight disclosed it to his vision. Lorentz gasped in utter horror at what he saw. The thing was beyond his experience, beyond his imagination. It had no eyes, and yet he felt a distant presence saw him through it, regarding him with a cold inhuman awareness. Lorentz wanted to flee in terror, but he was trapped, helpless, and there was nothing he could do but watch it in mounting fear for himself and his companions as it advanced relentlessly towards them.
The thing that came towards Lorentz resembled the weird growths that comprised the hedge, but twice as tall. The body was an ebon globe whose surface had the texture of frozen bubbles, and from its top sprouted the pitcher-shaped organs that had discharged the ensnaring threads, about the base of which was a ring of leaves resembling Elkhorn fronds. The whole thing glistened wetly, but unlike the hedge plants this creature possessed mobility. Four long crab-like legs, covered in prickles, supported the spherical body and between each leg was a leafy coiled tentacle much like that of an octopus.
With an effort Lorentz managed to rein in his bolting terror. He stilled his futile efforts to break his bonds, realising that he was merely exhausting himself and would have little strength to act should a real opportunity to escape arise.
“Don’t struggle,” he warned his companions. “You’ll just waste your strength. But most importantly don’t give up hope.”
Even to Lorentz his words sounded hollow and he suspected they sounded just as hollow to the girls, but it was the only thing he could think to say under present circumstances. Helpless as they were the sole course of action open to them was to wait and see how things unfolded.
Two more of the plant-things emerged from the undergrowth and closed in upon them. Janwayu shut her eyes and prayed to her gods. Unla was more composed thanks to her mental training and tried to probe the creatures’ nature with her heightened senses.
“They’ve no intelligence to speak of,” she called to Lorentz after a few seconds. “They’re just a bundle of mindless instincts. But behind them is a controlling force. I wouldn’t call it a mind – it’s too strange for that. But it is the presence I mentioned earlier. These things seem to be the adult versions of the plants that have ensnared us. They are merely servants of an unseen power, which I fear is the real source of danger.”
Janwayu, pricked by these words, opened her mouth to utter a derisive comment on the lateness of Unla’s insight, but then thought better of it and held her tongue. All of them were in deadly peril, and if they fought among themselves it would only benefit the unknown force which threatened them.
The captives fell silent as the things pushed through the now quiescent hedge. Their tentacles uncoiled and wrapped about the prisoners. Lorentz flinched at their unnerving touch as did his companions. He remained silent and grim faced as the ropy limbs hoisted him into the air. Then the monsters moved out, carrying the trio into the depths of the shadowed forest.
An hour of travel along twisting jungle trails brought them to a glade of considerable extent in whose centre was another growth at least fifty feet in height. The trunk of the plant-thing was pear shaped and of a glistening bubbly texture. The four pitcher-like organs had fused to form a single lobed tube that rose from the apex of the growth, which was encircled by huge fronds of Elkhorn appearance. From beneath these fronds depended four long ropy limbs resembling the arms of a squid.
About the thing were dozens of creatures identical to those carrying the trio, busy harvesting its seed pods and carrying them away to be planted out in the defensive hedge that also served as a nursery. The life cycle of the plant-creatures was now clear to Lorentz: The seeds grew into the immobile juveniles, which developed into the mobile adults, one of which would eventually replace the parent creature when it died.
It was a fascinating example of alien evolution, but one that Lorentz could have done without. Again, he desperately tested his bonds as he and his companions were carried towards the towering growth. The presence of the thing’s unnerving aura was now very strong and sent fear crawling up his spine. Its inhuman emanations settled upon him – congealing about him like a miasma, smothering and choking. Lorentz’ heart beat a wild tattoo of fear in his heaving chest as the parent creature’s ropy limbs reached for him. The girls cried out in fear as all three were snatched up, whipped dizzyingly into the air.
Lorentz looked down, sick with vertigo as they hovered above the lobed tube in whose bottom glinted an oily liquid. Then the thing’s limbs released them and they plunged screaming within the hollow organ. All three splashed into the pool of fluid. It closed over them – a pungent stinging wetness that made their senses reel.
Fear stabbed Lorentz like a knife wielding manic. The liquid was the thing’s digestive fluid. He held his breath, struggled madly against his bonds and the debilitating effects of the fluid. He risked opening his eyes. The liquid stung like vinegar. Fighting through the torturing pain he dimly saw that both women had fainted from agony. Bubbles streamed from their nostrils.
Terror mounted in Lorentz to a screaming crescendo. Both girls would drown in seconds. He heaved madly against his bonds with wild strength as he sank to the bottom of the pool. A strand, weakened by digestive enzymes, snapped. He heaved again and hope rose as more threads were torn asunder. But he was also weakening. His senses reeled from lack of air and the biting nature of the liquid.
Lorentz gathered his strength and with a mighty straining effort threw all his brawn against the web entangling him. He tore his bonds asunder, and with a kick he burst through the burning liquid. Gasping air, Lorentz dived, caught the limp bodies of the women and hauled them to the surface. Frantically, he applied mouth-to-mouth to each as he trod water and was soon rewarded with coughing gasps from both.
“Keep still,” panted Lorentz as they began to writhe in pain and panic. “I’ll have you free in a moment,” he continued as he tore madly at their weakened bonds.
Within a minute he had succeeded in his frantic task, but the danger was far from over. Already weakened by pain Lorentz’s frenetic exertions had drained his strength even further. He looked up as the frightened women clung to him. The walls of the tube were sheer and waxy. Climbing out was impossible.
“We have to escape,” gasped Janwayu. “Look,” she continued, pointing at Unla’s red and watering eyes. “The liquid is attacking our skin, our eyes. It won’t be long before we’re badly burned.”
Lorentz thought frantically, his mind racing in desperate deliberation. He remembered his sword. It had fallen to the bottom of the acidic pool. He dived for it, eyes closed, groping. His hand found the blade. He stabbed the tube viciously. The blade sank in a little. Both women saw his plan. They pushed through their pain and joined him, adding their strength to his flagging muscles.
All three struck again. Their combined efforts drove the blade through the leathery wall. Ripping, sawing desperately, the trio began to breach the monster’s tough integument with frenzied haste. They made a half circle of a cut. The fluid began to slowly drain, but Lorentz could feel what little strength he had rapidly giving out. The liquid now burnt him like fire from prolonged contact. His body was a mass of torment. In but moments exhaustion and agony would overcome him.
The man, now desperate beyond measure, threw his remaining strength against the wall and with a mighty heave drew the blade around with the assistance of the swooning girls. The cut complete he collapsed as the disc blew out under the pressure of the remaining fluid. All three were swept pell-mell through the gaping hole. They fell upon the shelf-like ring of huge leaves that grew about the tube, and lay in an exhausted heap too drained of strength to either move or speak.
Long and silent minutes passed before the trio’s agony faded to a dull ache and Lorentz regained sufficient strength to look about. Gazing down he saw the plant-creatures that served the parent growth were in a state of agitation, at last sensing something was amiss. That the threat had been communicated to their monstrous sire was now in evidence, for its ropy limbs began to stir in furious reaction.
“Look out,” gasped Unla as one huge squid-like arm arched up at them.
Lorentz, who had managed to retain a grip upon his sword, swung his blade wildly, desperately. Keen steel bit into the creature’s ropy limb. The thing shuddered as one of its few nerves was severed. It jerked its arm away and in so doing tore the weapon from Lorentz’s grasp.
The man swore. “Come on,” he cried. “We’ve got to move.”
All three slid down the creature’s pear-shaped bole and landed heavily. Lorentz struggled up and helped both girls to rise. All around bedlam reigned. The parent creature’s agony was causing its limbs to thrash about spasmodically. The whipping arms smashed its offspring to the earth and scattered others like the sweeping of a monstrous broom as they scuttled about in disorganised confusion.
Lorentz knew they had to take advantage of the chaos, but to try and find a path through the whipping limbs that struck erratically was fraught with utter danger. On the other hand to wait too long would give the creatures an opportunity to mount an organised attack.
The timing as to when to act was thrust upon him by a creature, less confused than the others coming at him. The thing flung out its ensnaring strands. The trio dashed aside, barely avoiding the entangling lines and darted through what was left of the ranks of madly milling monsters.
Unla cried a warning as a huge limb whipped down. She grabbed Janwayu, jerked her aside. The ropy arm struck the earth mere feet from the girl who stumbled and fell upon the ground. Lorentz threw a glance behind him as he stooped with Unla to help Janwayu up. Behind him he saw the pursuing creature had closed the distance alarmingly. Swiftly, he hauled the fallen girl upon her feet. Janway leaned against him. Her wound had opened; her exertions and further loss of blood had weakened her considerably.
“Leave me,” she groaned. “I haven’t the strength to run.”
Lorentz ignored her, heaved the swooning girl across his shoulder; sprinted wildly for freedom.
He dashed into the jungle, Unla following and the pursuing creature hot upon their heels. They ploughed through the undergrowth at reckless, breakneck speed, but great as Lorentz’s strength and stamina were the weight of the girl upon his shoulder and his ordeals began to slow him down.
Janwayu raised her head. “It’s gaining on us,” she cried in frantic warning.
One of the thing’s ropy limbs pointed at the fleeing escapees. A poison dart shot from its tip. The deadly missile, powered by compressed air stored in bladders, hissed passed Lorentz in a narrow miss.
“It just cast something at us,” warned Janwayu.
Lorentz slowed, cursed the thing. He stopped behind a shielding tree and eased her to the ground. “Stay here,” he panted to the girls. “I’ll distract it. Then you can escape.”
“Be careful,” said Unla as she laid a hand upon his arm.
To try and set her mind at ease Lorentz gave her a grin he really didn’t feel. Then he leapt from behind the tree and waived his arms wildly. The thing sensed him, dashed towards him, firing more darts from its other tentacles. He ran from the tree, leading it away from his companions. The thing followed in reaction, a mindless bundle of brutish instincts.
Lorentz dashed for a narrow gap between two trunks, a desperate plan forming in his mind. He turned and waited nervously between the boles as the thing bore down upon him in a wild rush. Its darts were now expended as he’d hoped. It discharged the sticky strands instead. With swift agility the man leapt behind a trunk and the jetting threads struck the gap where he’d been standing.
In the narrow space the lines entangled one another to form a messy web that stuck between the boles. Lorentz grinned. If he could cause the monster to exhaust its gluey threads like it had its darts there was a chance he could defeat it. Peering cautiously from behind the trunk he saw the creature had slowed its advance.
The thing sensed him, sprayed more threads, but this time in less copious amounts. Lorentz slipped behind the trunk just in time. He had to move quickly but carefully. Most of the threads had been entangled by to boles, but some had come through and lay upon the ground and vegetation. It was like walking through a minefield.
He ducked beneath an adhesive thread as the creature came around the trees. In an instant it sprayed more lines at him. Lorentz leapt to the other side of the bole, but as he did so a gluey strand caught his ankle and caused him to fall heavily to the ground. A lance of agony pierced his skull as his head struck a rock hard root. He saw stars, saw the monster scuttling around the tree. He tried to struggle up, fell back – the line had snared him. It held him trapped and helpless before his rushing foe.
With a desperate painful wrench Lorentz tore his trapped limb free as the monster came at him in a rush. The thing swivelled its organs at him. From a crouch Lorentz leapt between its legs as the ensnaring threads were discharged. He thrust his shoulder against the monster’s slippery underside. He heaved mightily and overturned the thing. It crashed to earth, spidery legs kicking wildly. Lorentz’s hands slipped on its oily integument as he tried to roll its spherical body upon the spraying organs.
A tentacle whipped towards his throat to lay a crushing stranglehold upon him. More strands jetted at him. Desperately, he swept both threats aside with his hand, pushed again with a surer grip. The globe turned, rolled. Other tentacles caught his leg, his neck. Lorentz threw his weight against the sphere in a final desperate thrust as he was choked unmercifully. The body rolled under his straining thews and he stumbled forward with it as it crushed the discharging appendages to utter ruin.
The tentacles jerked free of Lorentz’s neck, writhed upon the ground like tortured serpents. Breathing heavily he stumbled back and watched the wounded creature twitch and quiver helplessly as it tried to right itself. Assured that it was incapacitated he looked at his hands. The oily secretion had prevented the strands from sticking to his skin. Despite his ordeals Lorentz slowly smiled for now he knew how they could penetrate the deadly hedge that barred their path to freedom.
**********
Dusk was falling and Majnoor’s long day – nearly twice the length of Earth’s – was drawing to a close. Janwayu was asleep, resting on a bed of soft leaves beneath a primitive lean-to. Her injury was plastered with the resinous sap of the thu bush, which effectively staunched her bleeding wound, and her inflamed injury and skin, irritated by the digestive juices of the pool had been soothed with an herbal poultice Unla had compounded from the island’s other medicinal plants.
With Unla’s help and the aid of long branches Lorentz had beaten the wounded plant-creature to death, smeared its oily secretions on their skin, and thus protected from the discharge of the hedge all three had gained their liberty with ease. No further attacks had been made upon them, and they could only conclude that the parent growth had now decided they were too dangerous to attack, and was prepared to leave them alone provided they did likewise.
As the light faded Lorentz finished filling the hole in the outrigger’s keel with the last of the milky resin he had bled from a kau tree with Unla’s help. The girl’s education under the tutelage of the priestesses of the Temple of Pysee had been very broad, giving her an encyclopaedic knowledge of her world. The resin, she had informed him, would harden to an impervious consistency by morning, but in the meantime it was a sticky mess to work with and Lorentz cursed volubly as he tried to wipe the gluey stuff, which seemed to have gotten everywhere, off his hands.
A soft laugh mad him turn, scowling. But his features softened when he saw that it was Unla who stood before him. They were alone and in the stillness of the night her alluring presence was very strong, touching him strangely, bewitchingly. He laughed a little nervously, unsettled by an unexpected upwelling of desire and realising he must look quite a sight.
“Before it hardens the resin of the kau can be dissolved by salt water,” she explained. “Come, let us bathe.”
Lorentz followed her to the water’s edge, his heart beating strangely fast. Xya, Majnoor’s solitary moon floated in the dusky sky and shed its opalescent light upon the calmness of the ocean. Unla slid the robe from her shoulders. It cascaded to her ankles and she stood poised for a moment, her ivory body aglow with Xya’s wondrous light. She glanced behind her, her eyes shy yet with a hint of boldness and then she stepped gracefully into the hissing waves and immersed herself within the deeper water of the sea.
The effect upon Lorentz was transformative. Before her alien strangeness had made him hesitate to explore those feelings her presence engendered, but now his perspective had altered – as if a corrective lens had been set in place and he saw her, now unclouded by Earthly concepts of feminine ideals. She was very beautiful by the standards of Majnoor. He thought for a moment of the Venture high above in orbit and Ameena, the woman who had been his wife. Now it was they who seemed the aliens, almost unreal in their strangeness and remoteness. Here, upon Majnoor was the only reality that mattered. He stepped within the sea and joined Unla in its warm embrace.
**********
Lorentz awoke lazily. Unla lay by his side on the soft sand, her body aglow under the rays of the rising sun. He looked upon her with affection. The girl was still asleep, exhausted by their night of passion. No men were permitted to remain within the precents of the Temple of Pysee, but what she lacked in experience she more than made up for in eagerness to learn.
A shadow fell upon Lorentz and he looked up, his pleasant thoughts interrupted. Janwayu stood above him, an amused smile on her face.
“Both of you kept me awake half the night,” she said, and then laughed at Lorentz’s extreme embarrassment. “Well,” she continued good-naturedly, “since you appear so smitten I suppose we’ll have to take Unla with us now.”
“Where, though?” queried Lorentz, grateful for the change of subject.
“To Loth, of course; that is where I planned to go all along,” admitted Janwayu. “I didn’t want to reveal that in Unla’s presence for fear of betrayal. But now I see I have misjudged her. She is not one of Vasma’s detestable lackeys as I had thought. I suggest we depart as soon as possible. Unless,” she added with a grin, “the two of you plan to continue last night’s activities.”
Lorentz scowled. He threw a pebble at Janwayu and she laughed.
**********
It was late afternoon, almost evening, and Lorentz looked down from the palace balcony upon Loth’s expansive harbour. The three day journey to the island-kingdom had been uneventful and the young king – Agmon by name – had made them welcome, knowing Janwayu and Lorentz (whom he thought was Prince Atu – a pretension Janwayu considered wise to maintain) from various diplomatic missions to Chenna when he was a prince.
Naturally, Agmon was alarmed by the news of Vasma’s invasion plan, and preparations for war had been immediately undertaken with frenetic haste. At the moment there was a break in the proceedings, which had commenced a few hours after they had arrived that morning, and Lorentz had stepped from the hectic atmosphere of the council chamber for a breath of refreshing air.
Below in the huge harbour, now a hive of frantic military activity was Loth’s fleet – a mighty armada of hastily assembled ships, mostly merchantmen that, in an emergency could be pressed into service as warships. The vessels resembled giant catamarans, but with some differences: The two hulls were connected by arkas – the members of a framework joining them - as is usually the case with large vessels of this type. The arkas suspended a platform and this is where the difference in naval architecture lay.
Upon this platform was a square forcastle projecting high over the bows, with the after end curving into the crenulated gunwales. The aftercastle was also a very high angular structure. The bows of the outriggers were raked forward and ran straight down to their keels, but curved slightly at the forefoot. The outriggers had stern posts that raked aft and ran straight down to the keel with a rudder suspended from each. A single large crab-claw sail completed the design. The overall length of these ships, called quoqua, averaged at eighty two feet with a beam of thirty feet. Each could carry about one hundred and thirty tons of cargo in their holds and had a crew of between twenty and thirty sailors.
Lorentz shifted his gaze to the alabaster city, which was very different to the metropolis of Chenna, and imbued him with a sense of openness and light. The buildings were cubical in form, their flat roofs, which served as outdoor living areas, being adorned with flowering shrubs in large elaborate planters, their crimson blooms resembling a cheerleader’s pompom. A colonnade of arches encircled most of the structures, whose alabaster stonework was decorated with mosaic friezes of sinuous form. A grid of broad streets, cobbled in slate gray rock, gave order to the city. The main thoroughfares were lined with other planters in which grew small ornamental trees whose giant blooms, the petals of which were textured like a serpent’s skin, were of a steely blue colour, each flower composed of a cone of smaller flowers and a star shaped collar of silvery hue.
A distant rumble drew Lorentz’s eye. On the far horizon a mass of black and ominous storm clouds was brewing, and even from this distance he could see the tremendous flashes of sheet lightening that leapt from cloud to swirling cloud. Janwayu called to him breaking his reverie. Squaring his shoulders he stepped back into the council chamber, determined to lend what aid he could to the defence of Loth.
As he entered the room he saw that Unla had emerged from her trance. She gave him a quick smile, and then began speaking as King Agmon and his grave councillors who anxiously gathered round.
“Vasma’s fleet has departed,” announced the girl. “They are at this moment,” she continued, raising her voice above the babble of consternation her news engendered, “sheltering from a storm in the lee of the island of Thelassa.”
Agmon cursed bitterly. “That puts them within easy striking distance of our shore.” The king slammed his fist against his palm in anger. “Being a larger island with greater resources Chenna’s fleet outnumbers ours,” he raged. “My agents must have been discovered otherwise they’d have warned me that Vasma’s armada was under way.” Then, glancing across the balcony to the distant storm: “That tempest will delay them for a while, but not long enough for us to prepare sufficient ships.”
“Your Majesty,” advised Lorentz. “I suggest we set sail now. If we can catch Vasma’s fleet at anchor we can trap him in the island’s lee. With his ships locked in he will be unable to deploy them and so lose much of his numerical advantage.”
“It’s a risky plan,” pondered Agmon as he again looked at the distant storm, his rugged face lined with nagging worry. “That tempest could also wreck our fleet. Storms at this time of year are persistent and unpredictable. I’m surprised Vasma didn’t wait until the Season of Matay when the weather is much calmer.”
“He has no doubt brought forward his plans,” said Janwayu. “Vasma is no fool. When his assassins failed to return he no doubt deduced we’d escaped and would seek your protection and warn you. His aim is to strike now before you can fully prepare. Vasma is extremely ambitious, and it is this ambition that drives him to take great risks.”
The king turned to Unla. “What else do you see,” he asked, steeling himself for the worst. “Shall we win?”
“I saw the same scene that I saw when Vasman asked if he would be victorious,” she replied. “I saw him on a swaying deck with dead men all about and in his hand was the crown of Loth.”
Bedlam erupted. Some councillors howled in consternation while others cursed or sank to the floor in dejected resignation. Agmon maintained a grim calmness despite the dispiriting revelation. The king shouted for silence.
“Enough,” he cried angrily. “So be it. What will come to pass will come to pass. If we are to die, then let us die bravely in the defence of our nation. Better that than wailing like cowards and hiding behind our walls, waiting to be massacred. I am decided,” he continued firmly as he straightened. “We set sail at once to face the foe and kill as many as we can before we die, and if I’m lucky perhaps I’ll have a chance to spit in Vasma’s eye before the end.”
**********
Loth’s fleet set sail with the evening tide. As the flagship Sea Dragon left the harbour Lorentz looked back at the city, its alabaster stone glowing softly in the moonlight, and wondered if he’d live to see Unla again. Their parting had been a tearful affair, for even with her prophetic powers the future was obscure, uncertain. Lorentz did his best to put aside these distressing thoughts. He turned his gaze to the track of moonlight on the ocean. The sea was calm, but in the far distance the ominous storm still swelled, its thick clouds pregnant with looming menace. Much was at stake and great risks needed to be taken despite the danger.
Within several hours the wild tempest had stridden across the sky and caught them fully in its dark embrace. The waves become mountainous beneath a heaven whose stars were blotted out by roiling clouds of inky darkness. Lightening flared wildly – huge sheets and jagged forks that ripped open the blackness with blinding glare and crashing thunder.
Brave seamen paled, lashed themselves securely to rail and mast as the ship was laid over by the fury of the elements and rolled helplessly in the trough of the monstrous sea. Lorentz and the pilot struggled desperately with the wheel to prevent the vessel’s head form falling away. The pilot looked up, screamed in naked terror as a mighty wave rose above the ship – a cliff of seething water that hung there for an instant and then came crashing down with all the fury of a Titan’s fist. Lorentz cried in terror under the weight of its seething impact as it rolled across the deck. Icy spume engulfed him, smothering him as the howling wind tore at the ropes that bound him to the helm.
Again the pilot cried in terror as his hastily tied rope gave way. The howling demonic wind rolled the screaming man across the deck. He was swept away, flung violently against the rails. Here the terrified man clung for a moment, his nails sinking into the wood like claws. Then weakened timber cracked, broke and the wailing pilot tumbled and was swallowed up by the monstrous sea. Pale with terror and seasickness Lorentz tore his gaze from the sickening sight and looked down. Below in the waist a swirling frightening chaos of water had engulfed the huddled sailors in its roiling fury. Then the trembling ship began to sink beneath the weight of seething brine and Lorentz felt certain it was the end.
Only the high forecastle and aftercastle of the Sea Dragon stood above the swirling chaos as the ship strained and shuddered as it fought for life. Then the wave receded and the groaning vessel struggled upward as if in answer to the desperate prayers of its terrified crew. More waves crashed. The wind howled, screeched like a demented thing, driving the harried rain with stinging force as the gale rolled over Loth’s fleet in a frenzy of blinding spume and seething water that seemed to endure for an eternity. But at last, after perhaps an hour the terrific gale had passed onward to vent its wild fury on other quarters of the vast ocean.
**********
The last traces of the storm had vanished and it was now sunrise. The sea had calmed, and in the early morning light the crew was busy completing repairs to their storm ravaged vessel. Lorentz, however, was still feeling the after-effects of his ordeal. Never before had he felt so sick or terrified. Several of their ships had been lost in that wild chaos of heaving, mountainous waves, and their own vessel had come perilously close to floundering. A hand slapped him on the back as he hung wretchedly over the rail. He looked up into the grinning visage of Agmon.
“We’ll make a sailor of you yet,” said the king good-naturedly, pleased that they had come through the wild tempest relatively unscathed.
Lorentz, in no mood for humour, would have cursed him profusely but for the call of the lookout who cried that Thelassa was in sight. The island grew into view as a strong wind sped them towards it – a bleak mass of rugged crags that rose in naked tiers from the depths of the rolling sea. Signal flags were hoisted at Agmon’s command and the Lothan fleet deployed with care into three divisions with the most heavily armed ships at the head of the armada, of which the king’s vessel was foremost in strength, being packed with men-at-arms and archers like the rest.
The fleet rounded the point and Lorentz, in the forecastle, gazed worriedly upon the enemy ships, now in sight, whose numbers were so great that their masts seemed like a vast forest. Immediately the strident cry of alarm gongs rang out as the Chennese scrambled to action stations. Vasma leapt from his hammock and burst on deck. His eyes locked upon the Lothan armada. They had sent forth a dozen fire-ships – vessels filled with combustibles – and the strong wind was driving the blazing craft towards his first line, sowing fear and confusion.
Vasma cursed. His fleet was still at anchor, his captains having advised him to delay sailing until full light. Behind him were the sheer cliffs of Thelassa, boxing him in and to the fore were his foes. He shouted wild commands as the lead fire-ship collided with one of his own craft. Its barbed ram stick fast, the impact driving back a piston that pumped volatile oil onto the leaping flames. The fire-ship exploded in a roar – a billowing conflagration that engulfed its hapless target in a devastating inferno. Burning, screaming men leapt into the sea as other fire-ships spread flames and terror in their wake.
On the heels of the burning craft came the Lothan warships, cutting a nimble path through the foe and loosing flights of arrows as thick and black as wild storm clouds. In the bow of the Sea Dragon Lorentz witness the sickening devastation inflicted on the enemy. Bedlam erupted. Marines fell, feathered with broad-head arrows. The air was cut by the screams of the wounded as they writhed in the agony of death. Others - the lucky ones – were killed instantly. The decks ran slick with the gushing blood of the wounded and the pooling gore of the slain as sailors frantically spun the capstans and hoisted sail in a desperate bid to break anchorage and form up battle lines to meet the rushing foe.
The Lothan fleet continued its advance behind withering flights of hissing shafts that scythed murderously through the disorganised enemy. Ships collided thunderously. Grapples were flung and screaming men-at-arms hurled themselves across the rail and upon their Chennese foes in a wild melee of blood and utter violence. Lorentz and Agmon were in the thick of it. They had spotted the Vengeance - Vasma’s flagship – and rammed her. Agmon, Lorentz and a hoard of savage warriors smashed through the defenders at the rail and gained the enemy’s deck, but with heavy losses. The fighting was furious and horrible, for there could be no retreat or fleeing with both ships locked together in a battle to the death with no quarter given by either side.
Lorentz pressed forward into the heaving chaos of battling men, cleaving skulls and severing limbs in a brutal and efficient display of swordsmanship. Agmon was by his side. The king’s eyes were wild. Berserker rage had come upon him. He foamed at the mouth as he hacked and slashed his foes like a demonic butcher, revelling in his bloody handiwork. Men screamed in naked fear, fell back before his wild onslaught.
In the aftercastle of the Vengeance Vasma, surrounded by his bodyguards, peered through their arrow studded wall of shields and looked upon his faltering men. All about was gory chaos – upon his ship and others of his fleet. In the distance another Chennese vessel began to burn as a fire-pot was hurled upon its deck. Flames leapt up, roared, fed by resinous caulking and the wind. Black oily smoke billowed chokingly, hung in a pall over the scene of wild carnage as the lurid crimson light of raging fires turned the sea to blood.
Vasma laughed madly. His armada had been caught at anchor and he couldn’t use his strength of numbers to overwhelm the foe. Defeat and death stared him in the face. But then he remembered Unla’s prophecy – of how he stood upon a swaying deck with dead men all about and in his hand was the crown of Loth. Vasma grinned viciously. His eyes swept the scene below and fell upon the king. With a wild whoop of confidence he drew his sword and then threw forth a violent ringing challenge:
“Agmon, I am here,” he cried above the wild clash of arms. “Come meet your death if you have the courage.”
The king’s head jerked up. Battle madness was in his savage gaze. With a roar more bestial than man-like he leapt towards his foe, scattering warriors left and right with his whirling sword, his wild charge. Lorentz cursed as he glimpsed Agmon race boldly up the aftercastle’s stairs. He spilt one assailant’s skull, swung his sword savagely to drive off other foes.
“To the king; to the king,” cried Lorentz as he dashed after the blood crazed ruler, fearing Unla’s prophecy would be fulfilled by the man’s utter recklessness.
Vasma glimpsed Lorentz and half a dozen warriors furiously coming at him. He grinned, callously shoved a bodyguard. The startled man fell, crashed into Agmon as he bounded up the stairs. Both tumbled down the aftercastle’s steps. They landed at its foot in a stunned tangle. The king’s crown, shaken loose by the impact, rolled across the deck. Vasma leapt down the stairs, his face a study of wild violence, his sword poised for butchery.
Sickly, Lorentz realised he’d never reach Agmon in time. The crown rolled towards him. He snatched it up mid charge, hurled it at Vasma in a desperate bid to distract the man. The glittering circlet caught Vasma’s eye as it whirled towards his face just as he was about to cleave Agmon’s skull. He caught it reflexively, held it – all shining gold and flashing gems. A wave of intoxicating triumph flooded Vasma as he stared at the symbol of his victory.
It was a brief but fatal moment of distraction. Lorentz, now closer, hurled his sword with all his brawny might and sureness of aim. The flying blade struck Vasma in the chest. The man staggered, the crown fell from his hand. His face was a study of disbelief and horror as he pawed weakly at the sword. Then his eyes rolled in their sockets and he collapsed upon the deck and breathed his last despairing breath.
A great cheer went up from the Lothan warriors as half a dozen rushed to Agmon’s side and raised him up upon their brawny shoulders. Their Chennese foes by contrast cried out in bitter consternation and cast their weapons on the deck in bleak surrender. Lorentz stared down at Vasma’s corpse. Unla’s prophecy had come to pass. Vasma had indeed stood upon a swaying deck with dead men all about and the crown of Loth in his hand. But the bitter irony of it was that this vision had been a prelude to his death rather than the victory he so earnestly desired.
**********
Lorentz sat quietly in the courtyard garden of Chenna’s palace. Much had happened in the thirty days following the victory. He removed the crown from his head and gazed at it moodily. It was a weighty thing of pure gold – a circlit with truncated cones projecting horizontally from its circumference, their tips being set with large diamonds. It wasn’t exactly what he’d wanted, for a king’s responsibilities are many and tiresome. But with Vasma’s death and many other nobles also slain in the battle, the surviving lords had agreed (with considerable urging from Agmon) that Lortenz (whom they beleived was their prince) had redeemed himself sufficiently, and was entitled to sit upon the throne.
Lorentz grimaced. He wasn’t Prince Atu, but having been thrust into this role he had to play it through. Perhaps he had earned the crown to some degree. He had sealed a peace treaty between Chenna and Loth that would go a long way to end their commercial rivalry with each nation guaranteed of a share of the rich markets of the Confederacy of Ogena – the main cause of their enmity. But even so he felt the main reason for the Chennese nobles’ acceptance of him as their king was Janwayu and Agmon’s blossoming romance, for with the destruction of the bulk of Chenna’s fleet it was to their advantage if both nations could be united through royal marriage. If Janwayu became Queen of Loth, which seemed a foregone conclusion, then she would be a significant influence in Agmon’s court, and since Agmon favoured Lorentz as king they were unwilling to go against his wishes and risk a breach.
Thoughts of Janwayu and Agmon’s romance turned his mind to Unla. Twenty days ago a delegation of priestesses had arrived from the island of Pysee and spirited her away in the middle of the night. When he discovered what had happened he’d ordered a warship in pursuit and raged like a madman when his advisors had relentlessly opposed. The memory flooded back – as bitter as wormwood and as biting as sharpened blade.
“The Priestesses are sacred,” Tamad, his chief minister had sharply warned him. “Do you wish to be another Vasma?” he continued angrily. “People already doubt your suitability as king. If we were to obey your command it would only confirm their suspicions and your crown would surely be imperilled. Do you wish to plunge our nation into further strife?
The rebuke had been like a slap in the face to Lorentz and had brought him to his senses. Perhaps Unla had gone voluntarily, and if so how would she react if he behaved like Vasma and took he back by force? Not well, he was sure. That she loved him as he loved her he was certain, but perhaps her sense of duty to the temple overrode personal considerations. After all, they had only known each other for a short time, being thrust together by a series of exceptional events, and there was still much about her that he didn’t know. Lorentz had taken it for granted that she’d stay with him, and now he felt his assumption may have been presumptuous.
The peaceful delegation he had sent to Pysee to enquire of her had not returned and the wait was an agony of expectation. He looked up at the cloudless sky. His native world was lost to him forever. There could be no going back. Lorentz looked at the crown. No doubt his crewmates would envy him as king, but to Lorentz the circlet was more like a shackle than a symbol of royal power – a reminder of his weighty responsibilities and the bitter and solitary years he feared lay ahead. He laid the heavy circlet beside him on the stone bench where he sat and fell into a despairing mood of such depth that is was only a gentile hand upon his shoulder that made him aware of another’s presence.
Lorentz looked up and beheld the smiling face of Unla which to him was like a ray of beneficent light shining through the gloom. In an instant he was on his feet and swept the girl within his arms to kiss her long and fervently.
“Careful,” Unla managed to gasp at last. “Squeeze me any tighter and you’ll break something.”
“I’m sorry,” stammered Lorentz as he released her. “I was afraid I’d never see you again ... when you left without a word ...”
“I’m sorry, too. But I had to renounce my vows as a servant of the temple, and the only place I could do so was on the island of Pysee. I was bound by custom to utter silence until it was done.”
“Renounce your vows?”
The girl rolled her eyes in mock annoyance. “How else do you think we can be together, you clod? “Now,” she continued more seriously, “though I have sought to divine the future with my powers those distant days lie beyond the horizon of my inner vision. Only this I know through observation of others experience: Problems lie ahead for us as they do with every couple. But if we work together I am sure there is nothing that we cannot overcome.”
Lorentz smiled as he took her hand. “You have my solemn vow that out of love I shall always do my best for you, and also for the people of Chenna.”
And so it was that no truer words were ever spoken in the land.
THE END