Author: Kirk Straughen
Synopsis: Byron Luther, whilst testing an experimental worm hole generator, is hurled across the vastness of interstellar space to an alien world. Here, among strange civilisations and frightening beasts he must battle for his life and for love. Will he succeed or will death lay its grim hand upon him and drag him down to the grave? Perils abound. Danger lies at every turn. Read on if you dare.
Edit history: Minor changes were made to this story on 26 June 2021.
Byron Luther stepped back and ran his eyes over the fantastically complex machine that stood before him, wishing it was his genius that had created it. The device, which occupied almost the entire workshop on his uncle’s estate, was his by inheritance, as was the manor house and its expansive grounds.
The sight of the machine brought to the fore memories of his uncle, Martin Aden, retired physicist. Born into a wealthy family of Old Money, Aden had taken a keen interest in science from a young age rather than his father’s diamond merchant business, and had applied himself to the study of his chosen field with such alacrity that he had won a Nobel Prize for his work on the mathematics of higher dimensions.
Never having married or had children, Professor Aden had passed away some months ago and having no immediate heirs, had left all his worldly possessions to Byron Luther, his only nephew.
Luther recalled the tragic deathbed scene: The great man, now old and weak, his tall frame a cancer riddled husk and the bony hand that gripped his own with its fading strength.
“The machine,” gasped the dying man. “Promise me ... you’ll finish it ... All the plans are there ...”
“I’ll finish it,” promised Luther with gentle earnestness as he smoothed his troubled uncle’s brow.
The old man smiled. Relief came upon him. His great work was in the sure hands of his nephew and would live on after him. Professor Aden closed his eyes. His hand relaxed its trembling grip and he quietly and slowly slipped away...
Luther wiped a tear from his eye. Even now after four months his loss was still raw. Never again would he spend long summer evenings in the moonlit garden discussing many and varied things with his uncle, who was a most convivial and interesting polymath as well as friend and mentor to the much younger man.
Clipping the cordless soldering iron to his tool belt, Luther brought himself back to the present. At a mere twenty years of age his own career in physics, inspired by his uncle, was just beginning. But he doubted he’d ever attain the calibre of his mentor. Yes, he had completed Professor Aden’s machine – the wormhole generator – however, that had been a relatively simple task of merely following the detailed diagrams his uncle had left behind. But the principles, the mathematics on which the device operated, were quite beyond his present comprehension.
Taking a deep calming breath, Luther squared his broad shoulders. It was time to test the device, to see if decades of his uncle’s work in abstract mathematics could be translated into physical reality. Taking the jar and its prisoner (a scuttling cockroach) from the workbench, he approached the machine and placed the container on the transmitting platform – a faceted disc of glassy material above which was a downward pointing cone of similar substance.
To Luther’s left was the receiving disc and between both discs the bulk of the machine loomed huge and gleaming, almost sculptural with its complex of spheres and rods and faintly glowing cubes. If the device worked it should open up a miniature wormhole – a tunnel in the space-time continuum that would act as a shortcut between distant points. If the machine operated as predicted by his uncle it would revolutionise transport – people and goods could be sent to any point on the globe instantaneously.
Luther gripped the master switch. This was the moment of truth and he was both excited and nervous. He threw the lever. Light exploded – a soundless flare that washed over him like a tide of terrible all enveloping brightness. The world seemed to dissolve. Reality shifted, jarringly. There was a whirl of unnerving colours and sensations and suddenly he was somewhere else.
Luther stumbled and fell upon his back. He looked up into a nightmare sun-less sky. A huge banded orb of emerald hues filled half of the misty heavens. The world hung above him, seemingly falling on him, so large that the sky appeared unable to contain its stupendous bulk.
He tried to scream but only a strangled croak escaped his lips. Sound impinged upon his shocked mind – a roar like the noise of a great crowd in a state of utter confusion. Luther scrambled to his feet and looked wildly about. He was in the centre of a huge circle of white gravel, and at the circumference of the disc mounted dizzy tiers of seats in an all encompassing ring of gleaming jade hued stone with black marble-like inclusions.
Luther’s nape hairs prickled. Fear made his heart hammer in his chest and his breathing a series of trembling gasps. The tiers were occupied by a throng of pointing and gaping beings that distance prevented him from seeing clearly, but even so he had the disquieting feeling they weren’t entirely human.
What the hell had happened? Where was he? A sudden bestial roar, like the blare of half a dozen discordant trumpets, ended any hope of thoughtful speculation. Luther spun around. Behind him was a creature so outlandish in appearance, but for the reality of the solid ground beneath his feet, would have convinced him he was in the grip of a drug induced hallucination.
From the waist up the thing was roughly humanoid. Below the waist it was something else entirely, for its lower anatomy, with many legs supporting a globular body, was more spider-like in structure than anything else that came to mind. The thing had huge arms depending from the shoulders of its squat torso, but rather than ending in hands they terminated in snapping claws reminiscent of a crab.
The sinister head bulged on the beast’s broad shoulders – a skull reminiscent of a hammerhead shark. Its body, covered in a coarse pelt of thick dark gray hair, must have stood at least twelve feet in height. Again, the thing opened its terrible maw and bellowed. It lurched at him, its claw armed limbs snapping like monster shears.
Its mouth gaped horribly wide. Slimy venom drooled from rows of vicious serrated teeth. The deadly sight jolted Luther from his state of shock. He dodged the darting claws by leaping desperately aside.
The thing’s huge pincers crashed against the white gravel where he’d been standing, sending up a spray of stones. The monster spun about, came at him in a wild rush. Luther could see there was no point in running, He ducked its scything claws and hurled himself beneath its globular body in a desperate bid to escape its snapping shears, rolling one way and then the other as the hissing abomination tried to trample him.
Luther was unarmed, frantic. He knew he couldn’t keep this up forever. The thing also realised the futility of its actions. It changed tactics, stopped its wild scuttling and thrust huge claws between its legs, searching blindly, hungrily for its annoying prey.
Scrambling aside Luther narrowly avoided one probing claw, but the other clamped about his ankle with a grip that made him scream in agony. The thing began to drag him from beneath its body so it could rend his flesh with ease. Luther’s panic reached a wild crescendo as he realised its dark intent. His bolting brain brought forth a flash of inspiration. He wrenched a long screwdriver from his tool belt, and with both hands thrust its tip into the hairless snake-like skin of the monster’s underbelly.
The tool’s shank penetrated to the handle. The monster bellowed, let go and staggered. Luther avoided its bird-like feet as it stumbled. He’d wounded it badly, but even so it was still a threat. Ignoring the dripping indigo blood he gripped the befouled screwdriver between his teeth and lurched erect knowing his best defence was attack.
Luther nearly fainted from the pain as he put weight on his injured ankle. Fighting through the agony he leapt for the monster. His hands dug into the course gray fur of its back. He hauled himself up. The thing hissed madly. A giant claw reached for him as it stumbled in a circle.
Luther tore the screwdriver from his mouth, stabbed the groping limb while clinging to the creature’s back by a single hand. The monster screamed in pain and rage. The thing reared like a horse. It bent forward in a wild bid to throw him off. Luther grinned. This is exactly what he’d hoped for. He released his grip, shot forward and caught its neck in the crook of an elbow as he slid down its back.
The thing reared again and Luther nearly lost his grip as he was tossed violently about. The monster’s drooling maw snapped within inches of his face. From the edge of vision he glimpsed clawed arms darting for him. He plunged the screwdriver into its neck, quickly, desperately, probing for a major artery. Blood gushed. The darting claws convulsed as he frenetically stabbed again and again in wild and frenzied blows.
The thing tottered in a fountain of spurting blood, collapsed. The clinging man rode it to the ground. The monster crashed upon its front. The thing’s limbs twitched for a moment, then stilled in death. The thick hair upon the creature’s back had cushioned Luther from the impact, but even so the breath had been driven from his lungs by the violence of the fall, and it was several minutes before he had recovered sufficiently to rise.
Sitting on the monster’s back Luther looked dazedly about. Now that the rush of adrenalin had passed shock was starting to set in – his sudden and completely unexpected transition to this alien world and his desperate battle with the nightmare monster had taken their toll, and he gazed dully at his strange surroundings.
The wild shouting of the throng had settled to a low murmur of puzzled speculation and Luther found he was the focus of ten thousand pairs of eyes. But another also stared at him, and as the Earthman turned his head he met the baneful gaze of the hostile being.
The enigmatic creature stood about fifty yards away. It was humanoid in appearance and male. The alien’s skin was ivory in colour and largely hairless but for the short silvery fur that covered his head. His eyes were brilliant emerald, and his face had a feline cast to it as did the lithe build of his athletic body.
The man, for he was a man despite his strange appearance, was clad in a blue loincloth and sandals of the same colour. A gold triangle with a central opalescent jewel hung about his neck by a heavy chain, but of more significance was the glinting halberd that he fiercely gripped – a long hafted weapon with an axe-like head that tapered to a point - and the look of hot outrage stamped upon his scowling visage as his narrowed eyes locked challengingly with those of Luther.
A tic of wild anger twitched the face of Kyas, Prince of Nur, as his hard gaze raked the Earthman with utter virulence. The prince had no idea who or what this strange being was and neither did he care. The only thing which mattered was the stranger had robbed him of his victory, and therefore the hand of Athua, Queen of Edmu - fairest country of all the kingdoms of Siann - the single continent of this Earth size moon called Thytis.
A dozen other princes had faced the monster skath only to be torn asunder by its horrid strength in a forlorn attempt to prove their worthiness, but Kyas had been sure of winning for he had craftily poisoned the edges of his weapon with a toxin that would bring almost instant death to the creature.
But now his cunning scheme had come to ruin. Unless ... unless he proved himself by killing the killer of the beast. Kyas’ grin was as savage as a snarling wolf. With a wild yell he ran at Luther, his weapon’s point lowered for a fatal thrust. The sight of the charging foe and the dark import of his actions broke through the Earthman’s clouding daze.
Luther’s plight seemed hopeless – unarmed, and with an injured ankle that impeded his mobility. But despair did not come easily to the man despite the danger. Kyas thrust at his foe with a wild yell of triumph but the Earthman, still sitting with seeming placid nonchalance upon the body of the skath, had judged his timing well.
He swayed aside and with both hands grabbed the darting halberd’s haft. Then he jerked the weapon down and with the impetus of its motion the point lodged deeply in the carcass of the beast. Kyas cursed furiously, He sought to free his weapon, but Luther moved too swiftly for any ripostes – sliding off the carcass to the ground he scooped up gravel and hurled the pebbles in his adversary’s face.
Kyas yelled in pain and shock. He doubled over, hands darting to his gritty eyes. Luther grabbed the halberd, jerked it up. The weapon’s butt cracked beneath the prince’s chin and sent him tumbling unconscious to the ground. But the danger to the Earthman wasn’t over: as he quickly looked around he saw a half a dozen men armed with nets swiftly running at him from behind.
Luther tried to stand to face his additional foes, but pain lanced through his injured ankle and made him stumble with a gasp of agony. One net was swiftly cast. It caught him in a corded shroud, then another fell upon his struggling form snaring him completely. The Earthman fell and was swiftly surrounded by the foe. Then the pommel of a sword struck him on the head and sent him plunging into black unconsciousness.
Luther regained consciousness. His head hurt like hell and he groaned as he opened his eyes. The Earthman discovered he had been completely wrapped in the net, which now hung from a pole in the manner of a hammock - a pole that was supported on the shoulders of two guards clad in enamelled helmets and scale armour. In addition Luther was surrounded by six others - beings of similar appearance to the prince who had attacked him, but slightly darker in colouration.
Immediately, he realised that struggling would accomplish nothing – he was too securely bound to break free. Thoughts of home, of family and friends came to the fore of his troubled mind as his predicament sank home – trapped on an alien world who knew how many light-years from Earth. Home! He doubted he’d ever see it again. Panic and a terrible sense of loss came close to overwhelming him. With an effort Luther calmed himself as best he could. The Earthman knew his survival depended on his adaptability, and so he focused on his surroundings in a bid to learn more about the outlandish world into which he had been so unexpectedly precipitated, no doubt by a fault in the worm hole generator his circuit tests had failed to discover.
During his period of unconsciousness his captors had left the arena and they were now traversing the central way of the city of Koz, capital of Edmu, via a broad avenue lined with substantial buildings of translucent lavender stone – an avenue that was divided by strange trees running down the centre of the cobbled way. As he was lying on his back the outlandish growths were among the first things that caught Luther’s attention. Their trunks were tall and thin, much like those of a palm, but the boles, dark grey in colour, were spiralled, and from the ridges of the spirals projected long cherry red prickles similar to those of roses.
The crowns of the trees were fern-like in appearance and the colour a rather startling dark purple speckled with bright yellow. The large white feathery flowers, though, were perhaps the most unusual aspect of the growths, for the appearance of their four petals was that of bird wings outspread in flight with the ‘beak’ forming the torus and stem of the blossom.
Shifting his attention to the buildings, five stories in height, Luther saw that they were constructed in a manner similar to terrace houses and ran the entire length of the avenue. The upper floors were apartments with balconies and arched windows. But in many cases the ground floor consisted of shops – everything from fabric stores selling bright bolts of satiny cloth to greengrocers whose strange viands were shaped and coloured more like gems than the fruit and vegetables Luther was familiar with.
Heady scents, pungent odours and other smells from the establishments of spice merchants, perfumeries and eateries assailed his nose, and the glitter of gold, silver and a multitude of precious stones dazzled his eyes as he passed by heavily guarded jewellery stores. It was a strange intermingling of residential and retail, but despite this few people were about, and Luther correctly guessed that most of the population were still exiting the vast stadium now some considerable distance behind him.
Pedestrians gazed at him, their eyes widening in amazement at his strange appearance. Many stepped back in fright, much to Luther’s mortification, especially when young children hid behind their bare breasted mother’s ankle length skirts, which consisted of overlapping ribbons of satiny cloth decorated with beadwork of turquoise and carnelian.
A group of men clad in their national dress – a tasselled loincloth supported by a broad belt-pouch – hastily made way, and thus unimpeded by hindering onlookers Luther’s captors made good time, shortly arriving at the heart of the metropolis where, on a low hill, stood an imposing single story mass of ornate masonry of jade-like stone, cruciform in plan, that could only be the royal residence.
The facade – an arched encircling colonnade whose pillars were giant caryatids - was at least two hundred yards in length and further ornamented with sinuous gilded friezes. The portico around the cross’s arms, which were of equal length, was overhung by the strange roof’s substantial eaves. The roof was of red tile and saddleback in form. Its elaborately carved and bifurcated gables were dramatically upswept in the manner of a bull’s horns, giving the building a unique appearance that set it apart from the other structures of the city.
Luther’s captors marched up the hill along a path that wound through extensive formal gardens and then towards a side entrance to the palace, and as they passed within the shadowed colonnade the wondering man anxiously speculated on what his fate might be.
**********
About half an Earth year had passed since Luther’s arrival upon Thytis and even now, after so many months it still seemed incredible to him that he was here on an alien world, immersed in an alien civilisation. He had largely accepted his fate, but every now and then thoughts of home would pierce him with a sense poignant loss.
It was nearing evening and Zin, his elderly tutor had just departed, well pleased with his progress in Hypae, the lingua franca of the region. But the Earthman was far from pleased as he paced his room, his dread of the coming dark weighing heavily upon him – the isolation and biting loneliness of the planet’s extraordinarily long night.
Luther, mostly from his own deductions was fairly sure that Thytis was an Earth size moon orbiting a gas giant of roughly Jupiter’s proportions. Unlike Jupiter this gas giant was much closer to its sun than the outer planets of Earth’s solar system; otherwise Thytis would have been a lifeless lump of rock and ice. Like Earth’s moon, though, one face of Thytis was tidally locked to Nargu, the huge world it orbited, with the result that daylight lasted about two Earth weeks with a night of equal length.
Fortunately for Luther the Thytians didn’t stay awake continuously through the world’s long day – rather, their sleeping patterns approximated those of humans. Night, however, was an entirely different matter: Most animal life upon Thytis, including its native peoples, went into a state of hibernation during the planet’s many Earth days of darkness.
Luther shuddered at the thought of it – the long night whose inky blackness would be unrelieved but for the soft glow of starlight. He glanced at the locked door. A guard was stationed outside and another stood in the colonnade near the arched window of his small chamber. Soon, both men would enter a state hibernation, their metabolisms slowing to the very verge of death.
Hunger put an end to Luther’s pacing and as the Edmuans eschewed the use of chairs he sat tailor fashion before the low table upon which his evening meal was set, and continued thinking about his midnight plans as he ate the spicy stew before him.
His captors were ignorant of the fact he didn’t hibernate. The first night he would have starved, locked in his room. But he’d managed to pick the lock with a piece of thick wire he’d prised from the table’s brass inlay. It had been a terrible struggle, working by dim starlight, cursing, sweating and weak from hunger, for it had taken him some time to realize no one was waking up to feed him – back then he hadn’t been sufficiently proficient in the language to ask, and he’d mistakenly assumed their night-time sleeping patterns mirrored that of the daylight hours.
The stubborn portal had at last opened to his touch, but then another trial soon commenced - the long ordeal of groping through the maze of palace rooms and hallways in almost total darkness, for he feared to make a light, being at that time ignorant of the depth of his captors slumber. The silence and the gloom were eerie, and the sight of the nude corpse-like sleepers raised his nape hairs – they lay all about shrouded in their protective hibernation cocoons: a white exudation from skin glands that hardened to the consistency of rubber, and would undergo sublimation with the coming of the light thus freeing their slumbering occupants.
How long he had wandered he didn’t know, but it must have been for many hours for by the time he’d found the huge kitchens his legs were trembling with hunger and fatigue to the point where he could barely walk.
Food and drink from the palace’s copious stores had sustained him, and his night time activities had so far gone unnoticed. But even though he had a measure of freedom he was still trapped by his need for food and shelter and by the fact he was the alien, instantly recognisable no matter where he went. Luther’s main consolation was that so far he was being treated well. The exact reasons why were still unclear, but he suspected that good will on the part of Queen Athua had very little to do with it.
The queen, accompanied by six burly guards, had visited him on just one occasion. She had looked him up and down with extreme distaste – as if he was something that had just crawled out of a sewer, and then she’d swiftly turned on her heel and departed without a word. Naturally the Earthman, unimpressed by her reaction to say the least, had kept his ability to stay awake during the night a secret, realising it would give him an advantage should the need to escape arise.
No, his good treatment had little to do with kindness. His captors were intelligent and curious. He was being studied as the multitude of penetrating questions Zin and his fellow philosopher-priests were asking about his origins and how he had come to their world indicated. But what would happen to him when their curiosity had been satisfied? Despite their physical differences the psychology of these people was remarkably human – they could love, they could hate... and they could kill.
Luther put aside the disturbing thought he might end up a stuffed exhibit in the local equivalent of a museum. He brought his mind to the present and glanced at the huge brass water clock. Darkness was upon the world and the clepsydra’s descending pointer was nearing the symbol of the closed eye – the period of hibernation would be upon his captors in about an hour. Having finished his meal he stretched out on the mottled pelt of an alien beast, mentally preparing himself for the dreaded loneliness of the long night...
The Earthman woke with foreboding. The oil lamp had guttered out and darkness filled the room. Luther tensed as he sensed a presence in the chamber. Keeping still he turned his eyes and glimpsed the shadowed form beside him and the glimmer of starlight upon the swiftly plunging blade.
Luther rolled and the striking dagger pierced the pelt he lay upon. In an instant the Earthman was on his feet, but so too was his swift assailant. Luther leapt away from the slashing blade, dimly seen. But his calf struck the low table sending him toppling backwards in a clatter of tumbled crockery.
The shadowy figure vaulted the table. Luther rolled and the assassin’s feet stomped down inches from his head. He grabbed his attacker’s ankle, heaved. His foe fell heavily and lost his hold upon the dagger. Luther leapt upon the man as he scrambled for the blade. His attacker swung an elbow and Luther saw stars as it connected. Another elbow sent him sprawling to the floor as his assailant fought clear.
Again, the shadowed figure came at him with relentless determination. Luther grabbed the bowl his groping hand had touched and swiftly hurled it at the rushing killer. More by luck than skill the piece of crockery struck his attacker’s head and shattered. A cry of pain pierced the darkness. The fellow staggered, blood streaming down his face. Luther took careful aim and hurled another plate. The assassin raised his arm defensively. Porcelain broke in jagged slashing shards. Again the killer cried. Then the bleeding fellow turned and fled through the chamber’s open door.
Luther sat breathing hard in the gloom. Slowly, he stood and found he was shaking slightly from delayed reaction. Taking several deep breaths he calmed himself. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who had sleepless nights. Grim faced, he lit another oil lamp with flint and steel and cautiously peered out the open door. There was no sign of the assassin, but there was a trail of blood upon the floor.
Clearly, he was in danger. There was nowhere he could really flee to, and feeling the best defence was to go on the offensive he purloined a short sword from the pile of clothes belonging to the hibernating guard by his door, and set out in pursuit of his unknown enemy.
The trail of bluish gore led him to a section of the huge palace that was reserved for foreign dignitaries, and within fifteen minutes he stood before a brass bound door with wan light leaking from its threshold. Luther blew out his lamp and set it on the floor. He tried the blood stained handle – it was locked.
Luther wasn’t surprised, nor was he about to give up easily now that he’d tracked the would-be murderer to his lair. The Earthman backed up and furiously charged the portal, hurling his shoulder to the panel. The door burst open with a crack and the Earthman stumbled in. He had a brief glimpse of a hooded figure, then the glitter of the dagger that was swiftly flung at him – his foe, though wounded, wasn’t as debilitated as Luther thought he’d be.
The Earthman cried in pain as the whirling blade pierced his shoulder and sent him crashing to the floor. Luther lost his grip upon the sword which bounced away, and as the helpless Earthman writhed in moaning agony his foe drew another weapon and rushed at him with murderous intent.
Luther fought through pain as he glimpsed his rushing foe. In utter desperation he tore the dagger from his shoulder, almost fainting, and swiftly hurled the heavy blade. The hasty cast was poorly done but luck was with the Earthman: the pommel of the whirling weapon struck the fellow’s head and dropped him senseless to the floor.
But the danger wasn’t over: Luther was badly wounded and growing weak from loss of blood. He pressed his palm against his wound in a bid to staunch the flow as he staggered to the side of the unconscious man. The fellow’s hood had fallen back and he now gazed with recognition upon the face of Kyas, Prince of Nur.
A long gash marred the prince’s cheek and a deep cut was also on his arm where the plate had shattered. Both injuries had been covered by a sticky substance which had hardened to a greenish dressing. Luther could feel himself growing faint and the unconscious prince might recover at any moment. Quickly he looked about and saw a glass bottle whose stopper ended in a brush – a bottle containing a gel whose colour matched the dressing on Kyas.
Luther put two and two together. He stumbled to the low table on which the container rested. Behind him Kyas moaned. Sweat was upon the Earthman’s brow. The room was spinning and he wasn’t thinking straight – he should have hit the prince again to make sure he was thoroughly hors de combat. But it was too late to turn back. He had to quickly staunch his wound.
As he rapidly applied the gel, which hardened almost instantly upon contact with his skin, Luther threw a worried glance at Kyas and cursed with feeling. The prince, still partially dazed from the blow, had risen to all fours and was crawling to the dagger that had struck him. Luther lurched for his sword as Kyas grabbed the blade and staggered up. Both men faced each other warily. Each was weak from loss of blood and unwilling to be the first to attack.
Luther felt cold and clammy. The room reeled. He knew that although he’d stopped the bleeding he couldn’t stay upon his feet much longer. He had to quickly neutralize his foe. The Earthman staggered. Kyas grinned and hurled his dagger. Luther’s cunning ruse had worked. He flung up his sword and knocked aside the flying blade, then with the dregs of fading strength he lunged, sword extended in a killing thrust.
The prince managed to twist aside, avoiding the attack. Luther, overextended, lost his shaky balance and collided with Kyas. Both men fell heavily to the floor. The breath was driven from the prince’s lungs as the Earthman crashed upon him and for Kyas the fight was now well and truly over.
Luther was the first to recover. He rolled off the gasping man, grabbed the dagger and held it to his throat. Kyas looked at him. The prince’s face was grim and he hid his fear with an outward show of silent defiance as he prepared to face the horrid end. The Earthman, though, wasn’t a hardened killer. The thought of slitting the throat of a defenceless enemy was too much like murder for his conscious.
“Why are you trying to kill me?” he asked in reasonably fluent Hypae, the lingua franca of the region he’d been tutored in.
Kyas looked at him. “You really don’t know, do you?”
“Enlighten me,” replied Luther, heavily.
The prince thought for a moment. It seemed his life wasn’t in any immediate danger of being extinguished, and so he decided it would be sensible to cooperate and not antagonise his strange foe.
“Nur, my kingdom, is a small country. The land is arid. Our soils are poor and farming difficult. Drought and famine are not uncommon, and we are hemmed in by more powerful nations that prevent us from expanding. That we have not been conquered,” Kyas explained with a trace of bitterness, “Is because we have nothing worth conquering. My marriage to Athua, Queen of Edmu would greatly benefit Nur. But your killing of the skath,” he continued with a trace of anger, “has, shall we say ... complicated matters.”
“I see,” replied Luther, controlling his temper as he moved clear of Kyas and sat with his back leaning on the room’s low table. “So you thought by murdering me you’d eliminate a rival. Well, let me tell you I’m not interested in marrying Athua. I’m not of noble birth, and besides I don’t even know the woman. As far as I’m concerned your welcome to the queen. If you can arrange a meeting I’ll be only too happy to make my feelings known to her.”
“It’s not as simple as that,” replied the prince, soberly. “Basar, the High Priest, considers your appearance a sign from The Great Being. He is urging the queen to accept you as prince consort. The queen is resisting with counter arguments, but the Priesthood of the Divine Mind is powerful and not easily defied. This has been going on for months. Today I pressed Athua for a decision. She agreed things had dragged on long enough, and promised that on the morrow she will summon both of us and make her choice. I wanted to be certain I was chosen. It’s nothing personal, you understand?”
Luther uttered a humourless laugh. “And that’s supposed to make me feel better?” Again he managed to calm himself. Giving way to anger wouldn’t help. “It seems we’re both in a situation we’d rather not be in,” he observed pragmatically. ”I’m marooned on your world with no prospect of returning to my own, and your plan to help your people is uncertain of success. Very well, I’ve spared your life. In exchange you help me if you’re chosen by the queen, and if I’m chosen I’ll use my royal influence to help your people.”
The prince was silent for a time. Could he trust this outlandish creature? The fellow held the weapon and so the upper hand was his, at least for the moment. Besides, he could feel unstoppable slumber coming on, and he must ensure the stranger had no reason to cut his throat when he fell into helpless sleep.
“Very well,” replied Kyas, stifling a yawn. “I agree to your proposal. The drug I’ve taken to delay sleep is wearing off and slumber will no longer be denied. It is clear to me that you can stay awake far longer than we of Thytis can, so you’ll have to clean up all signs of our... disagreement, shall we say? The queen wouldn’t take kindly to such matters should they be discovered.”
“How will you explain your injuries,” queried Luther as the prince undressed.
“A clumsy accident,” replied Kyas as he lay back upon the floor.
“It appears we’re both clumsy,” observed Luther, humorously, as he thought about his own wound.
Kyas grinned. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Then he closed his eyes as his skin began to exude a milky fluid.
“Morning,” thought Luther glumly as he watched the suspended animation process accelerate. “On this world morning is two Earth weeks away.”
**********
It was now morning and bright sunlight slanted through the glazed skylights of the sprawling palace’s primary audience hall. Luther and the prince walked side by side across the mosaic floor of the colonnaded room. The anxious Earthman glanced at the detailed images he trod upon – finely wrought depictions of gory battle scenes: the clash of armies, the sack of burning cities and other forms of martial mayhem.
His eyes then moved to the gilded pillars of the room and the warriors that stood before them, their enamelled armour of cerulean and ruby as iridescent as an exotic beetle’s glowing carapace. Looking to the far end of the chamber the Earthman’s gaze came to rest upon a low semicircular balcony surrounded by a railing of pierced stonework, and upon this sat a simple throne and its statuesque occupant – Queen Athua.
On the floor below the balcony stood the queen’s murmuring ministers and Basar, High priest of the Divine Mind, who gazed upon them with inscrutable silence as they drew ever nearer.
The closer Luther came to the queen and the grouped men the more surreal it all seemed. The strange world he was marooned upon, the archaic setting and the possibility he’d have to marry a woman he didn’t know, and an alien one to boot. A sense of unreality settled upon him. It was as if he was trapped in an outlandish dream from which he couldn’t awake.
His daze was broken by the prince prodding him in the ribs. They’d reached the low balcony and the noble gathering ranged before it.
“Drop to your right knee as I do,” hissed Kyas. “Focus on the protocols you’ve been taught!”
Luther complied and the queen surveyed them in cool silence for a moment before speaking, the acoustics of the room projecting her sultry voice to the chamber’s furthest end.
“Byron Luther,” she began, her strange accent lending an exotic flavour to his name, “you slew the skath and in theory have won my hand in marriage.”
The queen paused for a moment, and from the corner of his eye the worried Earthman glimpsed hard lines of anger on the prince’s scowling face. Despite their agreement Luther didn’t trust Kyas – the prince, he was sure, wasn’t the type to be content with second place. Then Athua began to speak again, her words breaking the train of Luther’s anxious thoughts.
“But even so,” she recommenced, “Prince Kyas has been denied the opportunity to prove his worth by the unexpected and dramatic appearance of the stranger. Therefore, I set you both another task. Your quest is this: In the Floating Land lie rich veins of a wondrous metal called idvron of which the city state of Urlou has a monopoly. Whoever brings me my weight in this element will be the victor.”
Kyas gasped in shock. His head jerked up and he caught a fleeting and cunning smile upon Athua’s face. Hot outrage welled up inside him. He fought it down, but even so when he spoke anger sharply edged his voice.
“Your majesty, as you well know every expedition to the Floating Land has failed to return. Did Urlou’s air navy destroy or capture them; did they fall prey to some unknown danger, who can say? But what is certain is that this quest of yours is suicidal,” continued the prince, his self control slipping further the more he thought about things. “Indeed, what a fool I’ve been!” he hotly exclaimed. “This whole business of ridiculous ordeals is intended to kill off your suitors so you can circumvent custom and rule alone, unfettered by a man!”
Deadly quiet fell upon the queen’s entourage and the guards tensed as Kyas stood and glared up at her, his fists balling in hot outrage. “That’s the truth, isn’t it”’ he almost shouted.
Athua smiled cruelly. “What if it is,” she replied sneeringly, completely dropping her diplomatic mask. “You are in my kingdom. If you desire my hand in marriage you’ll abide by my conditions, or would you prefer to return to your father, King Lydan, and explain to him you lacked the courage to undertake the task?”
Kyas stiffened and his face became a wild study in outrage and fury. He turned savagely to the kneeling Earthman, needing to vent his boiling anger on someone. “This is your fault, you interfering fool,” he cried as he aimed a brutal kick at Luther’s head.
Luther, who’d been watching closely, wasn’t caught by surprise. He dropped beneath the wild blow and lashed out with his foot, which struck the prince’s shin and sent him sprawling. The two men rolled to their feet and faced each other with all the fury of savage lions. But before one could leap upon the other in wild combat they were swiftly separated by the racing guards at Athua’s sharp command.
“Enough,” she cried. “Prince Kyas, you will undertake the mission to win my hand because you dare not face your sire’s wrath. And you,” she continued, turning angrily to Luther, “shall do likewise because I order it.” Then, speaking to the commander of the royal guard: “Take them away and prepare them for their quest as best you can.”
As they were marched from the audience chamber Luther risked a glance over his shoulder. The queen was sitting in rigid anger upon her throne, glaring daggers as he left, and the Earthman glumly realised he was sinking into more than just a bucket load of effluent.
**********
It was early morning of the following day, and for the umpteenth time Luther ran his eyes over the strange vehicle he stood beside. The vessel, thirty feet in length, was constructed from the strong but light and purplish wood of the theeam tree, and resembled a double outrigger in general appearance. The hull, though, wasn’t entirely boat-like, but rather a tapered and slightly flattened cylinder as were the outriggers. Amidships was a small open cabin with shutters for inclement weather, and here the craft’s controls were also situated.
Large discs of idvron, each emitting a faint cobalt glow, were set in mounts around the strange machine – beneath the keel of the main hull and its outriggers, as well as forward and aft, port and starboard. When he’d first been told the machine could fly he’d been incredulous. Everything he’d seen so far indicated the technological level of this world approximated that of ancient Rome – a pre-scientific and pre-industrial society.
Luther shook his head. Even now it was hard to believe, but above him was the startling proof that it was true. He looked skyward and saw another vessel, twin to his own and the only other craft the Edmuan’s possessed, slowly making its ritual run above the crowded arena where he stood.
The vast stadium was packed with the city’s populace, all come to see the two adventurers set off on their quest to the Floating Land. The queen rode in the craft above to give her blessing to the undertaking, and in but moments it would be Luther’s turn to participate in the ceremonial flight.
Luther felt a growing sense of anxiety creeping over him that was due to more than just the unknown dangers he’d have to face. Kyas had become very edgy when they’d been told of the ritual flight, and had objected vehemently to Athua giving her blessing to the Earthman – an unworthy barbarian - which had made the volatile queen even more determined to do exactly that.
Was the prince simply being petty, or was there something more sinister going on? Luther couldn’t be certain. Perhaps he was just being paranoid. His thoughts were interrupted by the cheering throng. The vessel piloted by Kyas was descending towards him, and in but moments had settled by his own machine. The queen and her bodyguard alighted and approached the Earthman, who dropped to one knee, and spoke the words he’d been schooled in.
“Gracious Majesty, your humble servant would be greatly honoured by your blessing upon this vessel and its loyal pilot.”
“Step aboard, and I shall grant this boon,” replied Athua, her voice tinged with just enough sarcasm to make it clear of what she truly thought.
Luther ignored her irony as he entered the machine, but he couldn’t ignore the glimpse he got of Kyas’ worried look. The Earthman pushed the thought from his mind. He had to focus on the task at hand – the piloting of a craft he’d only recently mastered. Luther sat upon the pilot’s bench-like seat. Athua and her bodyguard followed and settled behind him, and then the queen gave the order to ascend.
Gripping the simple controls, Luther gently pulled forward a brass lever. Cubical loadstones were moved closer to the circular idvron plates beneath the vessel and the air boat, as it was called, began to slowly rise on shafts of feathery cobalt light that sprang from the glowing discs.
Soon, they were high above the arena and the Earthman eased back the lever, drawing the loadstones slightly from the discs which slowed the air boat to a hover. Luther then carefully pulled a second control to activate the stern propelling discs. Light blazed forth, not with the gentle thrust he was anticipating, but with tremendous acceleration that hurled his vessel forward like a rocket. Luther was thrown back violently as were his passengers. The queen cried in fright and pain as he fell upon her. The bodyguard cursed, hauled the stunned Earthman off Athua and flung him to the floor.
“You clumsy fool,” cried the queen as she clambered over Luther in a panic and seized the flight levers. “Your stupidity will be the death of us. Why... why,” she gasped in astonishment and fear, “the controls aren’t responding.”
Athua turned a wild gaze upon the Earthman. “You idiot,” she hissed. “You’ve broken it. Ho guard, strike down this blundering fool who’s doomed us.”
Before Luther could protest his innocence the guard had whipped his dagger from its sheath and with lightening swiftness sharp steel was plunging for the Earthman’s unprotected throat.
As the dagger swept towards him Luther swung an arm and knocked aside the hand that held the flying blade. The weapon’s point plunged into the timber of the craft, lodged firmly in the wood. The desperate Earthman struck again. He slammed his fist against his foeman’s jaw. The guard tumbled back and Luther flung himself upon the man to grasp his throat in a brutal stranglehold.
The two combatants madly wrestled. Athua drew forth a hidden dagger from her girdle. The queen’s initial fear had given way to fury which spurred her to hotly seek revenge. With a wild cry of rage she struck at Luther’s back. The Earthman heard the cry, caught the wild flash of swift movement. He rolled off his foe who gasped in agony as the plunging blade thrust him through the heart.
For a brief moment the queen looked in shock at what she’d done. The distraction was enough for Luther. His fist cracked against her chin and she crumpled senseless to the cabin’s floor.
Luther struggled to a sitting position and stared at the queen as he caught his breath. He regretted hitting her. The Earthman wasn’t by nature a violent person, but circumstances were forcing him to do things he had no real wish to do. Still, if he was to survive he needed to be pragmatic. With this in mind and fearing she’d attack him again, he quickly tore two ribbons of satiny cloth from the others that comprised Athua’s long skirt, and with these bound her wrists and ankles.
Confidant he had secured her, he stripped the guard of his weapons, heaved the body overboard and moved to the ship’s controls. It only took a short time to confirm they were inoperative. Luther uttered a string of profanities. The air boat was flying straight ahead. It could be neither slowed nor turned in any direction.
How had this happened? Then it dawned upon him – Kyas’ vehement objections to Athua’s ritual flight aboard his craft, a fact the prince hadn’t known about beforehand, and the worried look upon his face when she’d stepped within the air boat: The cunning prince had somehow sabotaged the mechanisms of Luther’s vessel in a bold attempt to eliminate his rival!
Again, Luther swore with passion and cursed his wily foe. With hard eyes he looked behind him and saw a flying speck in the remote distance. No doubt it was the prince who sought to salvage something from the miscarriage of his plans – to kill him, rescue Athua and return to Edmu as a hero, claiming it was all the Earthman’s fault.
Athua’s moan broke through his bleak musings, reminding him he wasn’t the only one in peril for, given their tremendous speed and head start; it was unlikely the prince would be able to rescue anyone, if in fact that was his true intention. Turning his eyes to Athua, he watched her carefully as she regained consciousness.
The queen opened her eyes. She struggled wildly against her bonds for a moment; then threw an angry stare at Luther when she realised the futility of her efforts.
“Release me,” she cried imperiously.
“If you promise not to attack me,” he mildly replied.
The queen’s eyes narrowed. Her nostrils flared and her full bosom heaved with wild emotion. Accustomed to being obeyed and having her own way since childhood, she was not at all impressed by the Earthman’s nettling defiance. A string of profanities erupted from her lips like a spray of cobra venom as she writhed and twisted in a wild bid to free herself.
Luther looked on glumly. He was trapped on a runaway air boat with a wildcat for an unwilling companion, and trailing him was a man hell bent on killing him. Then he grinned with wry humour. Maybe the worst thing he could do to Kyas was to allow him to marry the queen.
“Do you find me amusing?” hissed Athua, misinterpreting his reaction.
“No,” replied Luther soberly. Then he explained his suspicions about the prince and concluded thus: “If we’ve any hope of survival it’s by working together, rather than fighting each other. If I let you go will you promise to peacefully cooperate?”
The queen slumped back. Behind her bravado she was exhausted and frightened. She looked at Luther, searching. Perhaps she had misjudged him. His words made sense despite his alien strangeness, and besides she realised the bitter truth – she had no choice.
“Very well,” agreed Athua tiredly. “I consent to your proposal.” And then with a final flare of defiance: “But you’ll not tame me, this I swear.”
“I’m here to help you,” he patiently replied as he moved to undo her bonds. “And as for taming – only you can tame yourself if you choose.”
**********
The Floating Land loomed before Luther’s scrutinizing gaze, and as he looked upon the sight from the air boat’s prow he was overcome by a sense of unearthly wonder. Huge masses of verdure clad rock, many as large as mountains, floated in the air with the lightness of drifting clouds to form a band of levitating matter that encircled the equator of the planet.
Metallic idvron veined the bottoms of the granite masses along with loadstone outcrops, and where these minerals lay in close conjunction feathery light erupted in shafts of cobalt radiance - a radiance that kept aloft these massy isles of the sky at an altitude of about a thousand feet.
It was an astounding sight, but the wonder of it was quickly lost when Luther realised their hapless craft was on a collision course with a massive rock at least ten miles away. Fear gripped the Earthman. He’d been unable to repair the sabotaged air boat due to lack of tools and knowledge. Unfortunately, Athua couldn’t help him - the machines were the creations of the city state of Urlou, which had grown fabulously rich on the monopoly of their manufacture.
Luther looked down upon the landmass of the Ipthos Peninsula – a long, narrow isthmus and the only portion of the Siann continent that jutted out beneath the Floating Land. Beneath him lay rampant jungle and behind him a broad river on whose far shore were the gleaming spires of the aforementioned city state. Here, the craftsman of the air boat dwelt, obtaining their materials from debris that occasionally plunged to earth from the weathering of the floating masses.
For a moment he thought of Urlou’s air navy. He could expect no help from them even though their patrols had no doubt seen his craft. They were wise enough to keep well clear of the Floating Land and the unknown dangers that it posed. He’d have to extricate himself from this predicament or perish.
“We’re going to die, aren’t we?” flatly said Athua, who had moved to stand beside the Earthman.
He turned to face the queen. Their time together, which had comprised two day time sleeping periods, seemed to have wrought a change in her. There had been several outbursts of petulance caused by their bland supplies and the lack of amenities, true, but overall Athua had shown a degree of stoicism that had surprised and even pleased him.
“We aren’t dead yet,” he firmly replied. “I’ve an idea. I’ll prize off our rear propelling disc. Without forward thrust air resistance will slow us down.”
“I’ll help you. Show me what to do.”
Quickly, the couple set about the task using dagger and sword, thrusting the points of their improvised tools between the disc and its encircling ring mount. Luther sweated, silently cursed. He threw a glance at the looming mass of mighty stone and swore. Their tremendous speed had more than halved the distance. Again, he bent frantically to the task, levering mightily.
Athua threw her strength behind his own. The disc moved a little. Encouraged, both redoubled their efforts in furious accord. The Earthman’s muscles bulged. His face reddened with the strain. The plate moved further and with a metallic squeal it suddenly popped free, tumbling like a giant’s coin to the jungle below.
Both stood breathing hard from their exertions as they stared at the looming mass of floating rock. The thing was titanic – the size of a mountain at the very least and they were still flying as straight as an arrow at its rugged face.
Athua looked pale. Instinctively, Luther put a comforting arm around her. She pressed her face against his shoulder and her arms went round him tightly as he watched the mighty mass of stone draw ever nearer in an agony of frightful apprehension.
A minute passed and Luther exhaled, the tension draining from him. “Thank God, we’re slowing,” he breathed. “If we hit that floating mountain it will be with a bump, not smashing force.”
The queen relaxed. With the passing of immediate danger she became more aware of his arms about her, the warmth of his body and its alien but not unpleasant aroma. Perturbed, she pushed away from him, breaking the contact with a strange mixture of relief and regret.
Luther felt it too. He opened his mouth to speak, but a glance from her luminous emerald eyes – eyes that no human could possess - reminded him of the barrier that stood between them, and so he turned away with a sense of poignant loss, and looked behind to the distant speck that had never ceased to follow their runaway craft.
“Kyas will be upon us shortly,” he said. “I’ll try and take his air boat, but if I fail its best you pretend ignorance of his sabotage, and make whatever promises you think will encourage him to save you.”
The queen stiffened. “What do you take me for?” she angrily replied, her sense of propriety easily outraged. “Do you mean I should seduce that treacherous creature?”
“I only meant ...”
“Be damned what you mean,” retorted Athua as she strode furiously to the cabin and disappeared within.
Luther took a step to follow, then thought better of it and cursed instead. “Temperamental chit. Why should I care what she thinks,” he muttered angrily. But he found he did, and he thought himself three different kinds of fool for doing so.
The air boat suddenly lurched, throwing the Earthman off balance. Luther tumbled to the narrow deck as a cry came from within the cabin. Quickly he scrambled up, his anger quite forgotten as he dashed within and found Athua lying on the floor.
“Are you injured?” he worriedly asked as he stooped to help her rise.
“No,” she replied. “But we are moving forward and rising too.”
Both moved to the controls and the queen watched expectantly as Luther pulled levers, but without effect.
“The controls are still inoperative,” he said, turning to her. “An external force is acting on our air boat, and I doubt very much that it’s the wind.”
“This is what must have happened to those other adventurers,” said the queen. “I sought to be rid of you and Kyas, and by doing so have doomed myself. Fate has wrought a fitting punishment indeed. I’m truly sorry,” she concluded as she placed her hand upon the Earthman’s shoulder.
Luther was surprised by her frank admission and apology. Separation from the ivory tower of court life together with real world adversity, it seemed, had worn the sharp edges off her arrogance and softened her pride to some degree.
“We aren’t dead yet,” he replied with a smile of encouragement. “Sit beside me and let us wait and see what eventuates.”
The air boat climbed above the Floating Land. Its prow swung east and the craft accelerated. Time passed. The levitating isles slipped beneath their keel with swift rapidity, as did the vast expanse of the ocean, until at last a titanic mass appeared on the far horizon – one that grew ever larger with their fleet approach.
Soon, they were close enough to see it clearly and the air boat swiftly slowed as their craft passed above the lush jungle which clad its rugged peaks. The ship swung around one mighty crag and Athua gasped in amazement as the time worn habitation upon its slopes was suddenly disclosed to her unsuspecting eyes.
But it was like no dwelling place she or Luther had ever seen before. The crowding buildings were huge icosahedrons whose vertices merged with mighty hexagonal columns, each linked to the other in a serrate pattern by the curve of leaping walkways. The soaring structures, seven in all, were as black as obsidian, shot through with gold striations and possessed a texture resembling that of pine bark.
The strange forms rose up from the jungle clad slope to a height of perhaps three hundred feet - dark, mysterious and weirdly organic. A shiver ran up Luther’s spine at the sight and his apprehension only increased as the air boat dipped towards the menacing structures.
Luther turned to the queen. “Could this be the cause of the mysterious disappearance of previous expeditions?”
“I don’t know,” replied Athua, worriedly as she moved closer to him. “This is a strange land. Anything might be possible.”
“Well,” replied Luther grimly. “It appears we’ll soon find out. Look,” he pointed at a huge hexagonal doorway that had opened upon the face of a looming icosahedron – a portal comprised of six triangles that had opened outwards like the jaws of some weird monster.
Their craft sped towards it and passed inside, and the segments of the door, with ponderous strength – like a giant closing his mighty hand – folded in upon themselves clanging shut with a reverberation that sounded like a tolling bell of doom.
The air boat swiftly slowed as it passed within a huge triangular chamber, and settled upon a floor comprised of hexagonal tiles of a substance resembling frosted glass. Muted light filtered in through the room’s translucent vitreous walls, illuminating a group of weird figures who stood some yards away.
Luther’s knuckles whitened on the hilt of the sword he’d hastily grabbed, and Athua gasped at the sight of the strange humanoids. None of the seven beings exceeded four and a half feet in height. They were nude but for black loincloths made from linked metal rings, and a circuit of black metal about their heads that was set with gems which glowed like smouldering coals.
Their skins were hairless and pallid. Their heads were abnormally large in comparison to their slight bodies, with the forehead bulging outwards to such a degree that it shadowed their large staring yellow eyes. All were absolutely identical in appearance and dress, as if each had been cast from the same weird mould.
Luther mastered his fear and found his voice. “Who are you? What do you want with us?”
“We are the Mind Masters,” was the voiceless reply. “You are now our prisoners.”
Luther went cold. None of the strange beings had moved their lipless mouths. The thought-voices – for it seemed that each being had spoken simultaneously - had whispered in his mind: ghostly, eerie; intangible. The Earthman’s nape hairs stood erect and a cold sweat broke out upon his brow. The creatures were uncanny, menacing in their staring silence, their extraordinary powers.
The Earthman rallied his courage. “We mean you no harm. Our air boat is damaged. We are not here by choice. Help us repair our craft and we will depart in peace.”
“You claim peace, yet you bare weapons as did the others who came before you; as does the one who follows you. No. We sense your fear of us, your revulsion, and what you fear you so often destroy.
“Our world Zan – another moon circling Nargu - was shattered by a cosmic cataclysm ten thousand years ago and fragments of it fell upon this globe to form what you call the Floating Land. We seven are the last of our kind. Our powers are great, but not so great that we can withstand the onslaught of the barbarian hoards of an entire planet. Our existence must be kept a secret. You will remain our prisoners until we have finished examining you, then you will be destroyed.”
A sudden and terrifying paralysis gripped Luther as he was about to madly charge the seven in a desperate bid to win freedom for Athua and himself. An unseen force tore the sword from his hand and hurled it away. The Earthman was lifted off his feet by the same frightening power and from the corner of his eye saw that the queen was also in the grip of the Mind Master’s weird telekinesis – the same paranormal energy that he now realised had been employed to control their air boat.
He tried to speak, but found that he was completely immobilised, utterly helpless in the grip of his cold and merciless foes. The seven beings turned and moved off through a hexagonal doorway at the room’s further end, their captives following, floating behind them like balloons on invisible strings.
They passed through vast chambers, some empty, others filled with incomprehensible objects comprised of crystalline Platonic solids joined to each other in fantastic arrays that hummed and whirred with strange harmonics. After some time they arrived at the heart of the vast icosahedron and entered a large hexagonal room, one wall of which consisted of a single pane of vitreous material.
Athua was floated towards this wall, a section of which sank into the floor, disclosing the cell behind it into which she was thrust. The crystal pane was raised and the girl released from her paralysis. She sank to the floor, weak from fear and the shock of it all.
Luther, who had never ceased to struggle against the mental forces gripping him, was carried towards the centre of the room where a strange device was situated – a faceted downward pointing emerald hemisphere suspended from the high ceiling by a lengthy silver rod.
The Earthman was manoeuvred beneath the vitreous mechanism and his outlandish captors formed a circle about him. He gazed at the creatures with a mixture of fear and revulsion. What were they going to do to him? What were they going to do to Athua? Again, he struggled mightily against the forces binding him, but to no avail.
Cold dispassionate eyes, bereft of all humanity, returned his frightened stare. The smouldering gems in the Mind Masters black headbands began to pulse with a grotesque crimson glow – like the beating of a demonic heart - and then a shaft of emerald light burst forth from the faceted hemisphere to bathe Luther in its eerie tingling glow.
Probes of mental force thrust into his brain. He tried to scream in agony, but even this was denied him, so complete was the paralysis. Sweat drenched his body. It felt as if his skull was exploding. His mind was in a mad whirl. Reality swirled. The room spiralled, the scene distorting into a whirlpool of kaleidoscopic images.
He felt as if his mind was being stretched, twisted. Something seemed to fracture. A final burst of agony detonated in his brain and the surrealist vision flew apart like an exploding mirror, leaving only a black void into which he sank like a man tumbling in slow motion through endless space.
For a timeless period he drifted in a state of non-being, but gradually his mind reformed and consciousness emerged from the darkness, drawing together the disjointed fragments of his self to form a unity, but one subtly different from that which had been before.
Luther opened his eyes. He felt different and his perception of reality had altered. He saw he was lying on his back within the cell, but his vision of the room’s ceiling was imbued with a very faint shimmering light that wavered like the aurora borealis. He went cold with fright. Had he gone mad?
Needles of terror pricked him. His heart raced and his breath became rapid with fear. With an effort he reined in his wild fright and calmed his racing mind. The only rational explanation he could think of was that the Mind Masters had accidently unlocked a portion of his brain with their mental probing.
A movement in the periphery of Luther’s vision cut short his speculations, and when he turned his head he saw Kyas was now a prisoner too. The prince stood some yards away against the further wall tensely staring at him. He too, like all the other objects, was surrounded by a subtle aura. The Earthman’s lips thinned. He quickly scrambled to his feet, mistrustful and wary of attack as was Kyas.
A quick look about the room brought another worry – Athua was nowhere to be seen.
“Where is she?” he sharply said as he stepped aggressively towards the edgy prince.
“They’ve taken her,” replied Kyas, pointing.
The worried Earthman, on guard for treachery, quickly turned to face the doorway. He gasped in utter horror when his eyes fell upon the terrifying sight that lay beyond, for the prince’s words were not a cunning ruse: Athua was bound by strange forces to a table of frosted crystal that had risen on a column from the centre of the floor. Dread came upon Luther with sickening intensity. With his altered senses he saw tendrils of binding energy writhing forth from the pulsing gems on the black headbands of the Mind Masters – thin strands of prismatic force that ensnared the helpless girl in a web of immobilising power.
The weird and sinister beings stood around the queen and above their heads circled a floating ring of glittering instruments, sharp and sinister, held aloft by snaking lines of glowing force. Their eyes were upon the naked body of the woman, not with lust, but with a cold and ruthless curiosity that demanded satisfaction at any cost.
“What are they going to her?” gasped Luther.
“Vivisection experiments?” replied Kyas, sickened by his guess. “The other explorers were all men. Maybe they’ve never seen a woman before.”
Luther turned savagely upon the prince. “And you let them take her?” he shouted furiously.
“I was paralysed until a few moments ago. What could I do?” snarled Kyas indignantly.
“Well we’re not paralysed now,” hotly replied Luther as he frantically dashed towards the glassy pane and slammed his fists savagely against it.
The crystal vibrated but didn’t shatter. Kyas, realising they must unite their efforts to fight a common foe, put aside his enmity and joined the Earthman in his wild assault upon the cell’s transparent door.
The Mind Masters in their arrogance were unconcerned. They ignored the fracas with contempt and began their pitiless examination of the helpless woman. A glittering instrument, razor sharp, descended slowly towards Athua. The queen trembled at the sight. She struggled madly to free herself, but to no avail. A scream of utter fear welled up within her and would have burst forth in a piercing cry but for her paralysis.
Luther, horrified beyond measure, madly slammed his bloody knuckles against the glass with every atom of his frenzied strength. Rage possessed him - rage at the Mind Masters, rage at his own helplessness. He paused, panting heavily. The terrible blade was now mere inches from Athua. Brute strength alone was not enough. The Earthman’s thoughts raced desperately for an answer.
Then it came to him as his wild gaze fell upon his signet ring and the diamond set in one corner of its face. With both hands he quickly pressed the diamond to the crystal pane and swiftly scratched a large circle upon the vitreous material. The floating blade touched Athua’s flesh as he stepped back and slammed his foot against the pane with all his wild strength.
“Together,” he shouted at Kyas.
Both men drove their heels against the transparent barrier with all their might. The crystal snapped. The glassy disc popped free and rang upon the floor. Luther dived through the circle closely followed by Kyas. Both men charged the foe, wild cries bursting from their throats.
The Mind Masters turned as one, Athua forgotten for the moment. Tendrils of psychic force darted at the sprinting Earthman, the charging prince. Luther’s altered senses saw them whipping at him. He dived beneath the writhing tentacles of power, slid across the floor and collided with a foeman like a bowling ball.
The Mind Master went down like a ninepin as Kyas was snared by, to him, invisible darting tendrils and thrown heavily to the floor. Luther grabbed the creature by the throat as the prince went down. Tentacles of force whipped about the Earthman. He sank his steely fingers into the scrawny neck of his writhing adversary. Paralysis clamped down upon him, but it worked to his advantage, locking his hands about the throat of his enemy in a vice-like stranglehold.
His foe writhed. The creature’s eyes bulged. Luther glimpsed the other Mind Masters stagger, hands clutching their throats as if they, too, were being strangled. Tentacles of force suddenly gripped his wrists, hauled mightily in a desperate bid to break his crushing hold.
Luther hung on, his fingers clawing with the strength and savagery of an eagle’s talons. A dozen tendrils of force whipped about his throat. The Earthman tensed the muscles of his neck as he was jerked one way then another. He couldn’t breathe. His vision darkened and he could feel his grip weakening. Luther’s hands were torn free of his victim’s throat. The pressure about his neck became a steel noose, and the terrifying realization came to him that his adversaries had won.
He sagged to the floor, his vision growing blacker as the end swiftly came upon him. Then the terrible pressure suddenly and mysteriously vanished, leaving him weak and gasping. Soft arms went about him, Athua’s face pressed against him, wetting his shoulder with her tears.
“What... what happened?” he managed to gasp out. But the queen, exhausted from her terrifying ordeal, was too distressed to speak coherently now that the rush of spurring fear had passed.
Turning his head he saw his foe stretched out beside him, a surgical instrument protruding from the base of his hairless skull. A quick look about the room revealed that the other Mind Masters were also lying lifeless upon the floor, and as he rose to a sitting position holding the weeping woman against him, it dawned upon the Earthman what had happened.
The Mind Masters, in desperation, had focused all their powers upon him, thus enabling Athua to break free of her paralysis. The queen, brave and swift had slain his foe, and the shock of his enemy’s death had, in some mysterious way, been transmitted to the interconnected minds of the other Mind Masters, slaying them as well. As the Earthman looked at the bodies he was shocked to see they were disintegrating – their skin withered, fell away to leave bare skeletons. The process accelerated – the bones began to crumble, falling in upon themselves until mere piles of dust remained, and even these then began to fade before his eyes, seemingly evaporating to nothingness.
It was shockingly uncanny. The Mind Masters must have been incredibly old, their ancient bodies sustained at an atomic level by sheer telekinetic power whose cessation caused the rapid disintegration of their bodies. As Luther contemplated the swift turn of events and the weird demise of his foes Kyas groaned and stiffly staggered to his feet, his face setting in hard lines as he observed a different kind of scene – the weeping woman being comforted by his arch rival.
It was clear to the grim faced prince where her feelings lay. Victory had been ripped from his fingers, snatched away by the vagaries of fortune. But Kyas wasn’t one to accept defeat fatalistically, especially now that there were bigger things at stake. He approached Luther and the queen, his true feelings hidden with a lying mask of false friendliness.
“Are either of you badly hurt?” he asked solicitously.
“No,” replied Luther sharply as he helped Athua stand, keeping a wary eye on the prince as he assisted her to rise and don her skirt which lay near the operating table.
“Good. Then let us leave this place at once,” urged Kyas. “My air boat will easily accommodate all of us on our return journey to Athua’s homeland.”
“You’ve won,” continued Kyas, noting the heavy suspicion on Luther’s face. “It’s clear to me where the queen’s affections lie. All I ask is that you keep the promise that you made.”
Luther recalled his proposal – that if he was chosen by the queen he’d use his royal influence to help Kyas’s people.
“I will,” he sincerely said.
As they left the room and made their way towards the air boat Athua, who had recovered somewhat from her ordeal, whispered urgently to Luther: “Don’t trust him,” she quietly cautioned, and then with sharp suspicion: “What promise did you make that creature?”
“I don’t trust him, either,” he softly admitted, ignoring the latter question, fearing the answer would cause an outburst. “But he has the only means of getting us out of here. Our situation necessitates constant vigilance. If he peacefully co-operates we’ll reciprocate.”
For once the queen held her tongue, but Luther could see she was far from happy. No doubt she wanted him to knock Kyas unconscious and seize his vessel. The Earthman didn’t blame her, but his scruples wouldn’t let him attack the prince unless he had clear evidence the man was planning treachery.
Shortly, they arrived at the air boat and after a fifteen minute delay – the time it took Luther to find the mechanism that opened the outer door – they were ready to depart. But as the trio commenced to board the vessel Kyas unexpectedly groaned. The prince clutched his head. He swayed alarmingly and fell to all fours upon the deck.
“What’s wrong,” asked Luther, quickly stepping to Kyas’s side.
“I... I don’t know,” gasped the Prince. “A piercing pain in my head.... a sudden wave of dizziness. Help me up,” he said, extending an arm.
Luther, noting the subtle change in the prince’s aura and believing it to be a sign of illness, grasped Kyas’s hand. The prince gave an unexpected savage jerk. The Earthman, caught off guard, stumbled. Kyas’s other arm shot out and a fist as hard as a hammer slammed against his rival’s jaw. Luther went down. Too late he realised the subtle change in colour was a warning sign of violence. Athua cursed. She leapt at the prince, fists clenched to strike, but a swift backhand blow from Kyas sent her sprawling.
The Earthman lashed out with a wild kick that slammed against Kyas’s shin. The prince howled. His aura turned grey as he crashed upon the deck. Luther pounced on him. They wrestled furiously. Kyas savagely sank his teeth into Luther’s ear. The Earthman gasped in agony. The prince broke free of his weakened grip. He slammed his fist against his rival’s chin with such force that it knocked the Earthman senseless.
Luther regained consciousness and found he was bound hand and foot. He turned his head and saw that Athua lay beside him similarly restrained. The queen gave him a look that women often reserve for men they consider blockheads, but her anger softened when she saw his hurt expression. The fault was not his. Kyas was treacherous and her actions had also been ineffectual when dealing with his cunning duplicity.
No doubt Athua would have spoken words of comfort, but the prince’s entry into the cabin where they lay drew the couple’s gaze, and his appearance put an end to any conversation between the two.
“I gave you my word,” said Luther with barely suppressed anger as he glared at Kyas. “I meant to keep it. Release us and I’ll not only overlook your deceitfulness, but in addition keep my promise to you.”
Kyas gave him a cynical and derisive smile. “I don’t need your aid now,” he said. “Nur, my kingdom will become great in its own right. With the death of the Mind Masters the idvron is there for the taking, but no one knows it yet. The Urlouans have a monopoly on air boat manufacture, selling them to various nations in paltry numbers and at exorbitant prices. Nur can break that monopoly by building air boat factories on other portions of the Floating Land.
“In secret we can construct an air navy which will surpass that of Urlou, not for defence as they employ it, but for conquest. From an unassailable height our vessels can drop jars of combustibles upon enemy cities and armies with devastating effect. We’ll conquer Urlou first and then the rest of the Siann continent. And you will help me,” concluded the power drunk prince as he looked ruthlessly at Luther.
“You’re insane,” replied Luther with far more passion than caution, remembering the horrors of warfare in his own world. “How can I help you? Why should I help you?”
“You are from another planet,” replied Kyas. “From what I have heard your world is more advanced than ours. The Mind Master’s citadel contains many machines that may prove useful in the coming war – machines that you have a better chance of understanding than the wisest savants of Siann. And as for helping me; yes, you will help me, of that I am sure, for if you do not I will have Athua mercilessly tortured before your eyes.”
**********
Several sleep periods had passed and the air boat was now flying over the western portion of the Siann continent, which had grown progressively arid as the miles had fled beneath the keel of the hurtling craft.
Luther, who had been freed temporarily from his bonds for the sake of bodily functions, looked down upon the central highlands of the region – a plateau-like area of rolling sandstone hills and knolls interspaced with rugged peaks, and threaded through with several river valleys rich in alluvial soil whose water courses were now dry in the heat of summer.
The parched landscape of the higher elevations was terracotta in colour, and upon it thorny shrubs called casu sparsely grew. The plants were of a weird appearance. The conical thorny stems, dark gray in colour, were low and woody, and from them grew six broad strap-shaped leathery and waxy leaves whose curling lengths lay upon the ground. The leaves, which reached a length of six feet and even more, were of a violet hue and covered in stinging hairs to deter herbivorous predators.
In the river valleys, where moisture still lingered during the Dry Season, the vegetation was of a slightly lusher nature. Here, small trees called lebnom grew in huddled clumps. Their white trunks were bottle shaped and the thorny branches, which grew in a fan-shaped splay, were quite small in comparison to the expansive girth of their water storing boles. The leaves – lavender needles that grew in swirling clusters - were lightly distributed on the thorny limbs to reduce transpiration in the arid environment.
The lebnom trees bore black barrel-shaped nuts the size of oranges that formed the larger portion of the staple diet of the people of the region, and as Luther was to discover had a taste reminiscent of honeyed almonds.
Slowing, the air boat dropped towards the river valley they approached, and as it did the Earthman saw the ancient and numerous sandstone dwellings of the Nur’s kingdom upon the terraces of its further slope. These were multi-family communal living structures – thick walled, turreted circular buildings constructed around a central courtyard, many of which were four stories in height and exceeded 430,000 square feet in area. To Luther they appeared drab and fortress-like, and as he was to discover that is what they were, for in the rare fertile valleys competition between tribes for possession of life giving water had, in the disunity of the past, resulted in a state of almost constant warfare.
Luther turned from the scene which, to his new senses, was imbued with an aura of subtle colours whose meanings he was still uncertain of, and looked at Kyas with well concealed hate. The cunning prince was in the locked cabin with Athua lying bound at his feet and a naked dagger within easy reach. No opportunity to outwit his adversary had arisen, and the Earthman had wisely decided to remain placid and cooperate until he could devise a way of freeing the queen and taking her to safety.
He considered Athua. What were her feelings for him? She was a temperamental woman and was in one of her snappy moods. Perhaps it was the stress she was under – captive to a ruthless prince and an uncertain fate. No doubt that was part of it, but even under ideal circumstances he felt she’d be a handful for any man. That he had fallen in love with her could not be denied, and the rational part of his nature saw the hopelessness of it – the gulf that lay between them – of culture, station and species. But who said love was a logical thing.
The air boat bumped to a landing on the flat roof of the largest of the buildings, cutting short Luther’s ruminations. Guards clad in scale armour swarmed forth from the turrets of the roof and swiftly surrounded the air boat, spears levelled menacingly at the tense Earthman. Kyas emerged from the cabin with the writhing and cursing queen slung over one shoulder, and the guards instantly saluted by slamming the butts of their spears against the rooftop’s paving.
Kyas turned to Luther with a warning look: “Disembark,” he commanded, his aura flaring an angry crimson. “And remember if you cause any trouble Athua will suffer for it.”
Luther said nothing as he exited the air boat. He felt like smashing his fist into the prince’s face and didn’t trust himself to speak.
Six guards quickly encircled him at Kyas’s command, and under armed escort the party swiftly made their way down the stairway of the building to its lower levels. Here, they emerged onto a landing that gave egress to a dim corridor lined with prison cells with a guard room at one end and a torture chamber at the other.
Here, the Earthman was thrust into a grimy cell. The door was slammed and locked and all he could do was grip the bars in impotent rage as he watched the triumphant prince mount the stairs to the sumptuous rooms of the upper levels flooded with bright sunshine.
Athua gave him one long despairing look as she was carried away. “Byron,” she cried, calling him by his first name, her aura turning deep purple with distress. “I’m sorry. Sorry for the pain I’ve caused you.”
Then the stairwell door slammed shut behind her and gloom, darker than the absence of light, settled upon the soul of the deeply despondent Earthman as he realised he might never see the woman he loved again.
**********
Several months had passed – months filled with frenetic activity and stress for Luther. After establishing a camp in the citadel of the Mind Masters, Kyas had set him to work at analysing the enigmatic machines, but without success for the mechanisms were simply too alien for him to comprehend.
No opportunity had arisen for him to escape and rescue Athua for Kyas knew of his ability to stay awake during the long night and had taken precautions against such an eventuality. On the prince’s orders a blacksmith had riveted a chain around his ankle and secured it to a pillar in a small room stocked with enough food and drink to sustain him during the period of sleep.
His lack of progress in analysing the alien technology of the Mind Masters had infuriated the prince, and now he found himself back in the prison of the palace-tower of Nur, but more worryingly this time he had been incarcerated in the torture chamber, chained by the neck to a wall. As the Earthman anxiously paced the room, his movement restricted to a few yards, he recalled the ugly scene. He’d landed about an hour ago, summoned from the citadel in one of the new air boats Nur’s craftsmen had constructed – a giant raft-like affair of timber, graceless but easily built, one of many other craft based on the mechanisms of his damaged vessel, which had been disassembled for analysis.
Under heavy guard he had been escorted to the throne room – a Spartan chamber whose severe architecture reflected the temperament of Nur’s people. The prince had been in an ugly mood, had accused him of not trying hard enough. Kyas seemed to have undergone a change, but not one for the better. The intoxicating dreams of empire had made him crueller and more ruthless than he’d been before. He meant to achieve his goal no matter what the cost and had plainly said so, dismissing the Earthman’s explanation for lack of progress as an attempt to frustrate his dream of empire.
Luther remembered having called the prince insane when Kyas had first enunciated his plans for conquest, and now the Earthman cursed his own incautious tongue. No doubt his comment was well remembered by Kyas. Luther’s gaze fell upon the instruments of torture and his heart quickened with fear. One infernal machine drew his gaze. It was a circular iron cage just large enough to enclose a person. From the eight vertical bars of the cage, which was hinged on one side so it could be opened, protruded inward pointing threaded spikes that could be turned in or out by means of small crank handles.
A horrible premonition came to him, formless in nature yet terrifying. Over the previous months the strange powers the Mind Masters had accidently given him had been gradually developing as his awareness of them slowly grew. Something dreadful and sinister loomed, but not for himself as the instruments of torture would logically suggest. He touched the iron collar about his neck, sensed, almost felt the inner workings of its heavy lock.
Suddenly, the room’s door opened, breaking his concentration. Luther jerked around and gasped. Kyas stalked in dragging Athua with him. The queen’s wrists were bound behind her back and wild fear marred her lovely face. She looked at him trembling and piteous. Luther stepped forward, spurred by wild fear for his love only to be gagged as the collar choked him. He stumbled back clutching his throat. Kyas laughed and manhandled the girl towards the circular cage.
The prince turned his terrible gaze upon Luther. “I warned you Athua would suffer if you didn’t cooperate,” he hissed venomously. “But it seems a demonstration is needed to convince you.”
“Kyas,” pleaded Luther desperately. “I’ve told you the truth. The Mind Master’s science is thousands of years ahead of my own. I need more time.”
“I don’t have time,” snapped the furious prince as he tore away Athua’s skirt. “Consider this an incentive,” he snarled as he thrust the weeping woman within the cage and locked its door of iron bars.
Athua cried in pain as the spikes thrust against her flesh. Luther cursed, grabbed the chain, braced one leg against the wall and hauled upon it with all his savage strength. Again, the prince laughed cruelly at his futile efforts and began to slowly turn a crank.
The queen screamed as the spike penetrated her navel. She jerked away, only to gasp in agony as the other points jabbed her back and buttocks. Luther howled. He alternately cursed and pleaded with Kyas as he tore madly at his bonds in a wild frenzy of incalculable desperation spurred by the screams of the woman he loved.
Kyas stopped his turning of the crank as Luther, weak and sick with horror, collapsed to all fours upon the stony floor. The Earthman raised his head. His eyes fell upon his caged love. Athua stood in rigid, panting agony. She looked at him with imploring helplessness as she wept, too distraught to speak coherently.
Luther, in a fury that was beyond expressing in words, turned his eyes to the prince and cast a look upon him that was so imbued with untamed rage that his wild gaze seemed almost a physical blow.
Kyas swayed back in reaction to the savagery of the Earthman’s stare, then caught himself and stood firm. The prince saw this anger as defiance. A cruel smile settled upon his face as he turned the crank a little further.
Athua wailed, head flung back and body arching in utter agony as blood began to stain the spike imbedded in her navel. Luther’s desperation reached the extremities of the human mind. It exploded in an overwhelming desire to save the girl. His mind bent to the task. Barriers that held him back crumbled. Power surged out from the wellsprings of his mind. The collar about his neck flew apart as the lock was sundered by the outpouring of telekinetic forces.
In an instant he was on his feet and racing at the shocked prince with all the fury of an enraged lion. Kyas screamed for the guards, his cry cut off as Luther pounced upon him, steely fingers digging in the prince’s throat like the claws of a wild beast.
Both men crashed to the floor as three warriors burst within the torture chamber. They charged at the Earthman, distracting him. Kyas slammed the heel of his palm beneath Luther’s chin. Luther’s head snapped back. He tumbled from the prince. His cunning foe rolled clear, and Athua screamed in despair as the three guards plunged their swords down upon the Earthman.
As the three blades plunged at Luther the Earthman hurled forth a bolt of telekinetic force which struck the stabbing swords hurling them aside. With a hand he caught one guard’s ankle, heaved mightily. The man tumbled with a yell of consternation, his cry cut short when his skull cracked hard against the stone. Luther snatched his sword, staggered up. The Earthman felt weakened by the use of his newfound powers, knew he’d have to be judicious.
Kyas drew his dagger as the remaining guards, quickly recovering from their surprise, came at Luther simultaneously. The desperate Earthman cursed, swiftly flung his sword at the darting prince who leapt to threaten Athua and thus end the fight. The flat of the whirling blade struck his foeman's head with stunning force and dropped him to the floor.
But now Luther was unarmed. He jumped aside, barely avoiding one swiftly darting sword. His other opponent began to circle - to come at him from behind whilst his comrade attacked him from the fore. Again the Earthman dodged another savage thrust, but knew he couldn’t keep this up forever.
His other foe got behind him. Utterly desperate Luther summoned the remnants of his telekinetic strength. The Earthman dropped to the floor as he sensed the man behind him thrust. Gripping the darting blade with his mental powers he tore it from his enemy's grip and sent it flying like an arrow.
The speeding blade plunged into the throat of his foremost antagonist. Blood spurted gorily as Luther struggled to his feet to face his remaining enemy. The guard stared, open mouthed in shock. Luther lunged at him, fist swinging. The blow connected with a crack. It felled the man, and stretched him senseless at the Earthman’s feet.
Luther swayed dizzily. The use of his powers, both physical and mental, had left him debilitated and barely able to stand. He staggered to the cage in which Athua was imprisoned, spurred on by the groaning of Kyas who was starting to recover from the blow. Carefully, he wound out the spike penetrating the girl and was relieved to see her injury was not as bad as he’d feared.
The queen tumbled into Luther’s arms as he opened the door, and in his weakened state he almost fell with her. Carefully, he lowered the weeping woman to the floor and freed her of her bonds, only to tense as he heard the sound of running footsteps and wild shouts of alarm. Luther swore bitterly. Other guards on the upper levels had been alerted by the sounds of the savage fray.
Luther lunged for the prince’s dagger. Guards stormed through the doorway as he pressed the blade to Kyas’s throat, reigning in his wild desire to kill the man.
“Drop your swords,” he cried savagely. “Now, or I’ll cut your prince’s throat.”
The warriors hesitated, looked to their prince who was now fully conscious. Kyas gasped as Luther pressed the dagger home, drawing blood.
“I’m a desperate man,” he hissed in the prince’s ear, and Kyas paled at the fury in his voice.
“Do as he says,” ordered Kyas as calmly as he could.
Luther risked a glance at Athua as his enemies’ swords clattered to the floor and saw the queen’s fear had given way to rage. She crouched clutching her injury, and the look on her face, her whole demeanour as she stared at Kyas, reminded the Earthman of a raging tigress about to spring upon its prey.
“We need him as a hostage to get out of here,” he warned her, then quickly flung an arm about the prince’s throat, pressed the dagger to his ribs and hauled Kyas upon his feet. “I want an air boat and unobstructed passage to the rooftop where we landed,” he told the gasping prince. “When we’re safe you have my word I’ll let you go unharmed. Now give the order.”
The prince complied. The guards backed off and after Athua had donned her tattered skirt the trio exited the chamber. Luther looked cautiously about. The warriors had retreated up the corridor, spreading word of what had happened and the prince’s orders to cooperate with the escapees.
Moving along the now deserted passageway they soon came upon an upward leading flight of stairs and in but moments had ascended to the flat rooftop where the air boat had landed. Here a small contingent of warriors, who had come by another way, stood to one side with King Lydan, Kyas’s father to the fore.
Instantly, Luther tensed, expecting trouble. The king, a hard faced man every bit as ruthless as his son forestalled the Earthman’s angry warning. “Your air boat awaits you,” he calmly said, hiding his rage. “It is the vessel that brought you here and the only one in this vicinity. We cannot pursue you. Now, release my son as promised.”
“I’ll keep my word,” replied Luther as he backed towards the waiting craft, his dagger still pressed against the prince’s side as he pulled Kyas with him. “As soon as we’re aboard your son is free to go.”
Athua, however, had different ideas entirely. Her rage, rather than abating had been mounting to a dangerous crescendo. The thought of the man who had tortured her, who had humiliated her, being set free unpunished for his crimes was all too much to bear. Indignant fury hotly spurred the queen - as the trio stepped upon the raft-like vehicle she moved with swift violence: Stepping to Luther’s side she quickly grasped the Earthman’s knife hand and thrust the dagger between Kyas’s ribs.
The prince gasped in agony and collapsed, falling from the air boat to the rooftop floor. King Lyden and his men looked on in shock – so swift and unexpected had Athua’s actions been that all were taken by surprise. For a moment everyone was frozen in disbelief; then the king howled his rage and grief.
“Kill them,” he vengefully cried as he dashed towards the body of his son.
Luther swore. He leapt for the control column of the craft as a hurtling spear flew passed him in a narrow miss. The Earthman jerked a lever. The craft began to rise as more missiles sped at him. He ducked another spear as did Athua. Warriors charged the ascending vessel. One grabbed the edge, hauled himself aboard as a second swiftly followed.
The queen snatched up a fallen spear, thrust it at the guard. The man dodged, whipped free his sword and swung the blade as his other comrade scrambled up. Luther, also armed with a fallen spear, ran to aid Athua as she blocked her wild foeman’s strike. The Earthman lunged at the second warrior as he sought to stab the queen. The guard parried. Luther swung his weapon like a staff and smashed the steel cap on its butt against his antagonist’s shin.
The man howled, fell back and tumbled screaming from the air boat to smash in bloody ruin against the ground, now far below. Luther spun around and saw Athua slam her spear in her foeman’s guts and shove him off the craft. Both watched the body fall until a wild cry drew their gaze.
King Lyden, his face a study of savage hate, shouted up at them. “My son will be avenged,” he hotly cried. “I’ll burn your city to the ground, Athua. Do you hear me, you she-devil! My air navy will burn it to the ground and your people with it” he howled, and then dropped to his knees and cradled the body of Kyas as he wept without restraint, for although a brute in many ways he nonetheless loved his son.
Luther turned his gaze upon the queen as their craft continued to steadily ascend. The fury had drained from Athua and now she wore a sick and troubled expression that stifled the angry rebuke on the Earthman’s lips. The queen was often controlled by her emotions rather than being in control of them, causing her to act impulsively and now, in a sober frame of mind, she realised she’d brought doom upon her people through the folly of revenge.
The Earthman took a deep and calming breath to dispel the remnants of his anger at her act of foolishness which had almost killed them, and wondered if he was the bigger idiot for falling in love with a woman who had such a volatile disposition.
“I’d better set course for Koz,” he said heavily. “The sooner your people are warned the sooner they can prepare for the coming war”.
Athua pulled her thoughts together. She waved her hand in negation. “We can’t defend against an attack from the air,” she explained. “Lyden’s air navy can hover above Koz well out of range of our bows and ballista, and rain down incendiaries upon the capital. Its vengeful destruction he wants, not conquest and occupation. For him it will be as easy as spearing kofu in a pond. No, we must seek the aid of Myadis, king of Urlou. Only another air navy has a chance of defeating Lyden’s forces.”
“Can you be certain the king will help? After all, now that Kyas is dead and King Lyden wants revenge it’s no longer Myadis’s city that’s in danger of attack.”
Athua gave Luther a troubled look. “Myadis wants something I have,” she explained with a catch in her voice. “If I give it to him his assistance is assured. Now,” she continued turning away from him to hide her face, “please set course for Urlou at full speed.”
**********
Luther gazed down upon Urlou and slowed their craft as it approached the city, which was divided into quarters by two wide intersecting avenues, and further subdivided by a grid of smaller streets. In the heart of the metropolis was a huge square whose sides were lined with impressive temples and administrative buildings of the government. Similarly, in each quarter of the city was a smaller plaza, these dedicated to brightly canopied market stalls.
The houses of the suburbs were constructed of a pale blue stone and based on a trefoil plan – smaller and less ornate versions of the many temples and offices of the king’s administrators. From this lobed foundation rose ribbed beehive shaped domes that fused together from footings to high apex, and about the base ran a broad veranda encircled by informal gardens of brightly flowering shrubs.
Luther’s admiration of the scene was cut short by Athua’s grip upon his shoulder. “Look,” she exclaimed, pointing. “An Urlou air patrol is bearing down upon us. Bring our craft to a stop and raise your hands in surrender least they mistake our intentions as hostile.”
The Earthman complied and warily observed the two rapidly approaching vessels. They were much larger versions of the air boat that he had first piloted, resembling a double outrigger in general appearance.
Unlike the smaller craft he was familiar with there was no cabin amidships, but rather the upper deck of the vessel was protected from bow to stern by a curved roof plated in thin sheets of bronze, as was the entire exterior of the vessel. Below the armoured roof were crenulations much like those of a castle wall between which many hard faced and suspicious warriors thrust the snouts of their repeating crossbows, while from higher roofed turrets fore and aft, powerful arbalests that fired heavy bolts were also trained upon them.
The two air boats came to a stop, one on each side of the tensely waiting couple’s craft. A gruff voice hailed them. “Identify yourself,” shouted the captain of the starboard vessel.
“I am Athua, Queen of Edmu. The Nuruans have discovered the secret of air boat manufacture. My companion and I have come to warn Myadis of the threat they pose to his realm. We must speak with your king immediately.”
Of course this wasn’t entirely true, but Athua considered an appeal to self interest the best way to gain a swift audience with Urlou’s ruler, after which she would elaborate further and make her desperate appeal.
There was silence for a moment as the captain digested this disturbing information, then he spoke again.
“We will escort you the palace landing stage. Proceed slowly, and remember our weapons are trained upon you.”
“Friendly lot,” muttered Luther sarcastically to the queen as he followed the Urlouan craft towards a huge building in one corner of the city’s central square.
**********
Luther fidgeted as he impatiently waited in one of the guest rooms of Myadis’s palace – a gaudy and baroque extravaganza of vividly coloured ornamentation that assailed the senses with its overblown richness. The king and Athua were closeted in the monarch’s private suite. The queen, for the sake of propriety, had passed off Luther as her bodyguard and claimed he hailed from a distant land to explain his strange appearance. The ruse had worked, but it also meant that as a mere warrior he hadn’t been invited to attend the meeting, security being handled by the king’s own men. Perforce, he must pace the room as an outlet for his frustration and anxiety, for his sixth sense whispered to him vaguely in a way that filled him with a sense of dread for the future.
After of what seemed an eternity the door opened and Athua entered. Immediately, he could tell something was wrong, not just by the expression on her face but by the dark lines running through her aura, more intense now than what they had been on their desperate flight to Urlou. Before he had put it down to stress – the worry for her people, but now, with their increased strength, the true meaning came upon him like a blow.
Fear gripped Luther. He sank weakly to a backless chair and stared at the woman he loved. “What was the King of Urlou’s price?” he asked hoarsely, dreading her answer.
“My hand in marriage to which I assented,” she replied, unable to meet his gaze. The queen raised her hand in a forlorn attempt to forestall his wild objection. “I must save my people and this is the only way.”
“But I love you,” burst out Luther miserably.
“Love?’ replied Athua, sadly. “I must sacrifice myself; I must sacrifice such hope and yours as well for the sake of my people. If only I had taken you as prince consort from the beginning, but I did not see the good in you and sought your ruin by cunning subterfuges, and so have brought unhappiness on all of us. Forgive me,” she cried and then, overcome by emotion she fled from the room, her face wet with the bitter tears of grief and self-recrimination.
Luther stumbled to his feet to pursue Athua, but even through his grief he saw that she was right – the greater good, the saving of her people must take precedence. The Earthman slumped back upon the chair dejected and alone, and with darkness sweeping in upon his weeping heart.
Luther, in a small one man air boat somewhat resembling a kayak scouted ahead of the Urlouan air fleet, forty vessels strong. He, along with everyone else who had experience piloting such craft, had been pressed into service upon orders of King Myadis. The fleet had departed about six Earth hours after Athua’s hasty marriage to the king. Bitterness choked Luther at the thought of their nuptials, which in his eyes was a form of blackmail - Athua being forced into it to gain the aid needed to save her people.
He now knew that Myadis had been courting Athua for some time, but being more scholar than warrior had declined to risk his life in the arena for her hand in marriage, earning her sharp disdain. The Earthman felt sorrier for the queen than he did for himself. He had lost her, true, and though this loss was like a knife through his heart he, at least, did not have to endure the embraces of someone he had only feelings of contempt for.
The Earthman’s thoughts turned further to Athua. She rode in Myadis’s flagship along with the king, for she had insisted on accompanying the fleet, and from overheard palace gossip Myadis had reluctantly joined her, shamed into action by the queen’s bravery, or so it was rumoured. Luther’s lips twisted into an ugly line of contempt for a man he considered a weakling and a coward. Impotent rage welled up in him and he was hard pressed to fight it down and focus on his surroundings.
Looking ahead he saw in the distance a blurry but regular outline – the city of Koz, capital of Edmu, perhaps? The fleet had been travelling at top speed for several sleep periods, so they must be very near by now. His tiny one man flyer leapt ahead, and within a short while the scene resolved with the rapid diminishment of the leagues.
Fear gripped Luther’s heart. It was indeed Edmu, but a quarter of it was in flames. Above the city hovered the Nuruan air fleet. Twenty huge raft-like air boats that rained down bombs upon the metropolis – large clay spheres filled with flammable liquid that were rolled through circular holes cut in the centre of the craft.
What the bombs lacked in accuracy they made up for in sheer destruction. Luther saw one sphere fall. It struck a building by sheer chance and exploded in a roar of leaping flames. Furiously burning liquid splashed everywhere, spraying the streets jammed with terrified screaming crowds who sought to flee King Lydan’s mad vengeance.
Smoke rose in black turgid pillars to stain the sky. People - men, women and children screamed horribly as they were burnt alive. The stench of death filled the air and lurid flames danced like crazed demons escaped from the pit of hell. Luther cursed vehemently. He veered off and sped back towards the fleet at top speed, hoisting a signal pennant on the short flagpole to the right of the cockpit, thereby alerting Admiral Ji, commander of Urlou’s air armada.
To the frantic Earthman it seemed like an age before the air fleet came in view. He arrowed straight for the flagship and a sharp eyed lookout quickly spotted him and his craft’s signal flag that indicated the enemy had been sighted. The information was swiftly relayed. Luther quickly brought his air boat to a stop by the flagship’s bridge and shouted his report to the grizzled admiral.
Athua, who was standing next to Ji with her new husband, clutched her heart convulsively, a sick expression coming on her face. Myadis put a comforting arm around her, and it took all of Luther’s self-control not to leap from his craft and smash his blocky fist against the fellow’s jaw. Ji ordered him to continue his reconnoitre, and it was with relief that he arrowed his craft away, fleeing the scene of intimacy that was so tormenting to him.
Luther gained altitude as behind him the fleet deployed for battle. It was a bleak day, overcast with heavy cloud, the weather reflecting his grim mood. As he shot skyward to better survey the scene, the prickling of his sixth sense made him look up and to the rear. The Earthman gasped. Dangling just below the clouds was a sturdy chain supporting a basket manned by an eagle eyed observer.
The spotter raised a trumpet to his lips, blew forth a blaring signal. In but moments thirty Nuruan air boats burst forth from the concealing clouds and plunged upon the unsuspecting fleet of Urlou. In an instant Luther saw the fatal flaw in the Urlouan ships design – the roofed deck and turrets of their air boats gave protection from projectiles, but created a fatal blind spot to attacks from above.
Luther swiftly hoisted a warning signal flag, then turned his craft around and madly raced towards the unsuspecting fleet. His alarm was spotted, but too late: The Nuruan air boats released their bombs point blank. Some missed, but most struck their targets. The Earthman gasped in horror as the flagship was directly hit.
The bomb – an anti-ship design – burst. Viscous Incendiary liquid clung like glue to the roof. Flames leapt, burned with tremendous heat. Bronze melted, ran like candle wax. Wood smoked, burst into roaring flame. Fire, fanned by the wind of the ship’s passage, raced like a living thing across the superstructure of the hapless craft. Other vessels sped to aid the stricken ship, but almost immediately came under heavy attack that stymied their rescue mission.
Grim faced and spurred by wild fear for Athua, Luther sent his tiny flier plunging towards the burning flagship as a wild melee of the air erupted all around him. Flights of hissing bolts flew between circling air boats. Quarrels rattled like hail against the plated sides of his tiny craft. He dived beneath them, swerved to avoid collision with another air boat.
Two ships, not so agile, collided to port. Luther glimpsed them shatter, plunge, men falling from the broken wreckage screaming and clawing futilely at the air. Sickened, he sped on and saw that the flagship had fallen off its heading. Pandemonium had erupted onboard. The helm was either damaged or abandoned. Smoke and flame now billowed from its interior. He saw a figure silhouetted by the red glare of flames leap from the craft, then another and another.
Praying that Athua was not among them he pushed his one man flyer to the utmost. The craft streaked towards the flagship and in but moments he was beside the bridge of the flame wreathed vessel. His anxious darting eyes, stung by the billowing smoke, scanned the burning wreck. Fear choked him as he spotted his love. Perilously, she hung half out of the crenulations in a desperate attempt to escape the choking gases of the fire.
“Hang on,” he cried as he manoeuvred his air boat toward her.
The queen looked up. She sobbed in relief, stretched out a hand to grip the Earthman’s. But as their fingers touched the flagship rolled, the fire having reached a stabilising mechanism. Athua screamed, lost her grip and tumbled from the ship. Horrified beyond measure, Luther, in utter desperation, sent his air boat hurtling after the plunging, screaming woman. Downward he sped like a streaking meteor to match Athua’s awful velocity.
“Grab my hand,” he yelled above the howling wind of his wild flight.
Athua reached, missed. The ground rushed up at them, dangerously near.
The queen, with a cry of desperation made another grab. Their fingers clasped. Luther drew Athua to his craft. She clung to him fiercely, her nails digging in his flesh like the talons of an eagle as she squeezed into the tiny cockpit. The Earthman bit back a curse as a wave of heat struck them. The queen looked up and gasped, her relief shattered by the terrifying sight: The flagship, now a mass of livid flame was plunging down upon them like a fiercely burning sun tumbling from the sky, for now Athua was aboard Luther had slowed their violent and dangerous dive.
“Hard to port,” she cried wildly.
Luther jerked a lever. Their tiny craft leap away. The burning wreck plunged passed in a roar of smoke and wild flame whose singeing heat failed to abate the chill of tremulous fear at such a narrow miss. The Earthman watched in mesmeric horror the passing of the ship. He saw the vessel strike the outskirts of the city and thunderously exploded in a sickening spray of burning timbers and dead men.
Athua dug her nails in to get his attention. “Look,” she cried, pointing. “The Nuruan air boats have broken off their attack upon Edmu. See – they dart to fall upon us, and already half our armada is destroyed. All is lost unless we find a way to turn the tide of battle.”
Luther pulled himself together. His mind raced in furious ferment as he spotted the Nuruan flagship high above the raging battle of whirling, darting air boats. A plan burst forth brightly in his brain.
“Hang on,” he cried as he sent the air boat hurtling upward like a flaming rocket.
Their tiny craft climbed the sky with furious speed and swept towards the raft-like flagship of Nur’s aerial armada. Flights of arrows rattled against their bronze sheathed hull as they swept above the huge vessel. Luther’s swift gaze spotted his intended target – racks of bombs ranged along the edges of the craft and protected from arrow fire by lean-to like structures.
He thrust out a mental ray. The lancing bolt of arrowing force struck a bomb and cracked its clay casing. Flammable liquid gushed, ignited upon contact with the air. Flames roared furiously. Pandemonium erupted aboard the stricken craft. King Lydan cursed vehemently. He knew he was doomed, knew in but moments the tremendous heat of the raging fire would ignite the other bombs.
Through swirling smoke and leaping flame the king saw Luther as his flyer swept around and commenced to dart beneath the flagship to avoid another vessel. Vengeance burned brighter in Lydan’s heart than the raging fire. If he was going to die he’d take his foes with him. With a wild yell the maddened man raced between two bomb racks and hurled himself from his craft in an act of seeming suicide.
Lydan plunged. He struck Luther’s air boat as planned, but his feet slipped upon the deck. The king swore as he tumbled. He flung out a hand and clung with savage strength to the rod that served as a flagpole for the signal pennants. The Earthman cursed in disbelief. Athua gasped in shock. The king madly laughed as he drew his dagger and stabbed wildly at Luther.
The Earthman caught the King’s knife hand by the wrist, slammed his fist against Lydan’s jaw with savage strength. But the king, in a berserk rage and largely insensible to pain, shrugged off the blow as if it was a feather as he tore his dagger free. Luther gasped in pain as the blade deeply sliced through flesh between his thumb and index finger.
Instinctively, Luther clutched his injured hand. The wild king madly laughed as he prepared to strike again. Authua quickly acted. She reached over the hunched Earthman and thrust he fingers into Lydan’s eye. This pain the king could not ignore. He shrilly screamed and lost his grip upon the craft.
The king fell screaming, but one danger was rapidly replaced by another. Fires still raged aboard the huge flagship – a rampant inferno whose tremendous heat had boiled the liquid contents of the remaining bombs. Bomb casings burst under tremendous pressure. Flammables sprayed, ignited instantly.
A terrible explosion seemed to rip the sky apart. Athua screamed as the shockwave slammed their tiny craft and sent it spinning like a top. Debris also struck their flyer. A repulsion disc was torn away. The ship fell from the sky like a wounded bird and plunged to earth in uncontrolled descent.
Luther fought through the pain of his injuries as the craft tumbled in mad descent. He wrestled desperately with the controls but to no avail as earth and sky spun around him in a giddy whirl. Athua clung to him speechless with horror as the ground rushed up to smash them both to gory ruin.
The Earthman quickly realised his flyer was critically damaged. Bleak of face he saw they were perilously close to the earth. There was one chance – a desperate chance that depended on all his strength of mind. Luther hugged Athua close to him as he thrust out with his telekinetic powers.
The couple rose from the stricken craft. Athua was amazed even though the Earthman had told her well beforehand of the powers that had come to him. The vessel fell away. Luther had stopped their giddy tumble, had slowed their frightening plunge but not halted it completely. He exerted his mind powers further. The strain was tremendous. Sweat beaded his brow with the terrific effort. Their fall slowed further, but not enough.
Luther could feel himself weakening. The ground rushed up despite his frenetic exertions. The earth was now five hundred feet below. Athua clung to him, kissed him.
“I love you,” she said in tremulous farewell.
Her declaration fired Luther’s determination. He couldn’t let her die. He wouldn’t let her die! Form the wellspring of his being he drew forth undreamt of strength. Telekinetic energy erupted like the flaming exhaust of a rocket. The deceleration was terrific, but still they fell.
Luther felt himself blacking out from the strain of his exertions. Through darkening vision he glimpsed the trees rush up. He aimed for a spongy growth in a last desperate effort to save them, turned to place his body between Athua and the impact. The couple struck, crashed through its strange branches. Pain lanced through Luther in a flood of agony, and then he knew no more.
**********
The worried Earthman paced the narrow confines of his prison cell and reflected on the turn of events, which had been as dramatic as they were unexpected. First had come joy – Athua had survived the fall with nothing more severe than bad bruising. Then, adding to their happiness had been the sight of both air fleets breaking off their attack and departing, for with the death of their respective leaders there was no reason to continue the prosecution of the battle.
Neither one had spoken of the death of Athua’s husband, nor would the queen ever mention anything of what had passed between them. Full of happiness the couple had limped to the gates of Koz, capital of Edmu, only to be seized by the guard and taken with swift secrecy to the dungeons of the city’s bleak prison, and locked in cells on different levels of the grim penitentiary.
No explanations had been given as they were brutally frogmarched along. Athua’s outraged protests had been grimly ignored. She had fought wildly – kicking, biting scratching, only to be struck senseless by one of her thuggish captors. Outraged, Luther had exploded into action, but weakened from his ordeals his resistance, valiant though it was, was quickly crushed as half a dozen burly warriors piled on him and beat him into semi-conscious submission.
The troubled Earthman reviewed what he had learnt. As his mind powers slowly recovered he had been able to sense the surface thoughts of the sentry by his prison door. During Athua’s long absence, Princess Xymae, Athua’s younger sister whom he hadn’t met, had been made regent until it could be determined if Athua was alive or dead.
From what he gathered Xymae was even more ruthless and ambitious than her older sister, and in addition was very jealous of her. It appeared Xymae’s personal spies had brought her rumours that Kyas had returned to his kingdom with foreign prisoners. As to whom these people were her agents could not discover, but it didn’t take much for Xymae to put two and two together.
Athua was alive, but Xymae had no intention of relinquishing the throne to its rightful heir. It was clear she had devised a plot to deal with Athua in the event that she returned, and had set her own henchmen at the gates to intercept the queen if this eventuality arose.
Luther’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the changing of the guard and he focused his mind upon the replacement warrior, hoping the man possessed new information, for several hours had elapsed since his incarceration.
The Earthman felt sick to the core of his being as he sensed the fellow’s thoughts. Athua was to be murdered, to be done away with in secret upon Xymae’s command so her position on the throne would be secure. Even now the killers were making their way towards the cell where his love was imprisoned.
Luther’s thoughts raced in a mad frenzy. He wanted to scream, to beat down the door of his cell in a passion of violent rage. With an effort he reined in his wild emotions. His mental powers and his physical strength had not fully recovered from his ordeals. He must think carefully rather than go charging about like an enraged bull.
The Earthman waited in an agony of apprehension. The two guards exchanged pleasantries for what seemed an age. Every second might mean the difference between life and death for Athua. The frantic Earthman didn’t think he had the strength to take on two men, but there seemed no choice.
Luther acted. The prison door was secured from without by a heavy horizontal bar. The Earthman saw it in his mind’s eye. He reached out with his telekinetic powers. Tendrils of invisible forced coiled around the bar. He lifted. The bar slowly rose. Luther sweated with anxiety and the strain of his desperate exertions as he pushed his mind to the utmost.
A guard spotted the movement from the corner of his eye. He turned and gasped as did his companion who followed the direction of his astonished stare. Luther cursed. With a tremendous effort he hurled the bar at the nearest man. The heavy timber slammed into the warrior’s head, crushing his skull.
The Earthman jerked the cell door open as the stricken man tumbled. The remaining guard fumbled for his sword in a panic. But Luther was swifter. He leapt like a pouncing jaguar, slammed a wild haymaker against the guard’s chin. The force of the savage blow staggered his opponent. The warrior stumbled, tripped on his dead companion, went down like a felled ninepin. Luther leapt on the fellow, drove his heels into the man’s chest. Ribs snapped, were driven into the warrior’s lungs. Bright blood bubbled from the man’s mouth. The fight was over.
Luther stood breathing heavily and trembling from the frenetic exertions that had taxed his strength. But there was little time for rest. He quickly belted on guardsman’s sword and dagger, and moved as swiftly as he could down the gloomy cell lined passageway, ignoring the pitiful cries of the imprisoned wretches.
The corridor was deserted – the usually heavily guarded prison was largely empty, the sentries having been initially drawn off to defend the besieged city, and who were now being kept busy fighting fires and bringing order to the chaos. Only a handful of men loyal to Xymae were stationed at various points in the huge building. With the knowledge gained from the guardsman’s mind Luther quickly made his way down a spiralling torch lit stairway to the lowest level of the prison.
Luther tensed as he neared the foot of the stairs - torches in the corridor onto which the threshold broached cast the shadow of a pacing guard. Tense as a wound spring the wary Earthman crept to the foot of the stairway. He tried to use his mind powers. Sharp pain stabbed his head. He bit back a groan of agony and leaned heavily against the wall. He had overtaxed his abilities when freeing himself from the cell.
The Earthman straightened and wiped the sweat from his furrowed brow. He watched the floor in a lather of high anxiety. Was there a single guard or many? The shadow advanced, turned. Luther knew time was running out. He had to act. The Earthman darted from the doorway. The man’s back was to him. He clamped his hand over his victim’s mouth and thrust his dagger into the fellow’s throat.
Blood gushed sickeningly. The warrior gurgled. A woman’s scream shook Luther as he lowered the dying guard to the floor. He dropped the corpse and madly dashed in the direction of the cry. In a frantic sprint he reached the chamber, spurred on by further piercing screams.
Luther burst through the heavy door which stood ajar. Horror met his wild gaze. Athua had been stripped bare. Her wrists had been bound to her ankles and she hung face down, suspended by a rope above a pit, and held aloft by a counterweight – a huge jar of sand whose grains trickled out through a hole in its base.
The sight was terrible, but more dreadful was the thing in the pit. The creature stood four feet at the shoulders. Its body was canine in appearance. The back and flanks were heavily armoured in grey-blue crocodilian scales. The bony head was crested and reptilian in appearance, reminding Luther of the skull of an iguana. The monster drooled. It leapt for Athua, teeth lined jaws hideously agape. She screamed as the terrible fangs snapped shut a foot from her flesh.
In an instant Luther took in the nightmare scene – the black clad killers who, within a second of his appearance, had drawn their swords and raced towards him as the helpless screaming woman inched ever nearer to the creature’s rending jaws.
The frantic Earthman charged his foes. They crashed together in a whirl of blades. Luther parried with sword and dagger. A flicking blade raked his cheek as he jerked his head aside. He lunged. One foe screamed, fell lifeless to the floor as the other swung his weapon. Luther blocked the stroke, rammed his dagger between the fellow’s ribs. The man screamed. Athua screamed.
Luther spun around. The queen was lower, within reach of the creature’s fearsome jaws. He dashed for the pit, saw the monster leap. Again Athua screamed as the thing of horror sprang at her. The jaws gaped, wicked teeth gleamed with foul saliva. With a wild yell the frantic Earthman flung himself within the well, sword extended like a spear.
His blade rammed against the monster’s side. The beast screamed. The impact knocked the thing aside and its snapping jaws missed the frightened woman as man and monster tumbled to the floor.
Luther landed on his feet but the jarring impact made him drop his weapon. The creature likewise landed on all fours, only lightly wounded for its scaly armour had turned the Earthman’s blade. In an instant it sprang at him in a wild leap, foaming jaws horrendously agape.
The Earthman dropped to a knee as the monster fell upon him. Man and beast crashed upon the floor. Blood gushed. Luther lay unmoving, pinned beneath the creature. Athua sobbed, not knowing if her love was alive or dead. The thing moved. Athua cried in grief. It still lived.
But it was life of a different kind that made the monster move: With an effort Luther pushed the carcass off, and as it rolled away the sobbing woman saw the dagger protruding from the monster's breast. Her tears of grief quickly turned to ones of joy.
Luther struggled to his feet and caught Athua as the lessening counterweight lowered her within his arms. Quickly, he freed her from her bonds with the dagger. She clung to him fiercely, kissed him with wild passion as she wrapped her long legs about the staggering man in an unrestrained fervour of desire. Sanity, however, prevailed, at least on Luther’s part – this was neither the time nor place for making love.
“More killers,” he winced as she nipped his earlobe, “might arrive at any moment.”
The thought cooled Athua’s passion.
“Yes,” replied the queen soberly. “Xymae planned to have my corpse dumped outside the city – a tragedy of course – her sister killed by a wild zarn. I’m sure,” continued Athua sarcastically, “her mourning at my funeral would have been most sincere.”
“We must move quickly to escape,” prompted Luther. “Are you strong enough to climb the rope?”
“Yes,” replied Athua, “and more than that. We’re not running. Xymae must pay for what she’s done. My forbears made provisions for such treachery. There are secret passageways within this prison that as rightful queen only I am privy to. Follow me.”
Quickly they ascended the rope, pausing only long enough for Athua to don the garments of a slain killer and arm herself with his weapons. Her attire complete the couple swiftly made their way to the stairs by which Luther had descended and here, half way up, the queen pressed a section of the wall marked by a secret sign that resembled an imperfection in the rough stonework.
A cunningly wrought door swung inwards on protesting hinges. The queen took a flaming torch from one of the sconces and they entered the dark passageway. Closing the portal behind them they traversed the tunnel’s dusty length and within twenty minutes came upon another upward leading flight of stairs.
Athua called a halt and turned to her companion. “Above is a bunker built beneath the palace,” she explained. “My ancestors constructed it as a refuge in times of war or civil unrest. I’m sure this is where Xymae has retreated.”
They mounted the treads in silence, well aware that the element of surprise was the best weapon against their numerous foes. In but moments they came to a landing at the head of the stairs. Athua passed the torch to Luther, raised the cover of the spy-hole and peered through the tiny aperture.
“It is as I thought,” she whispered. “Xymae is within and my loyal councillors with her, no doubt discussing the restoration of order to Koz and the repair of the capital. Despite all she’s done I have no desire to kill my sister. Let us enter now and put an end to her nefarious schemes by capturing her alive.”
Athua thrust open the door and stepped within the room with Luther swiftly following. The creak of the swinging panel drew the occupants’ gaze. Joyful surprise lighted the faces of the queen’s councillors, seven in all. Xymae’s countenance blanched with shock. She stumbled back from the table where she stood. Her breasts heaved in panic. The girl found her voice with an effort.
“Guards,” she shrilly screamed before Athua could decry her treachery.
Six men stepped from behind floor to ceiling tapestries recently hung for the purpose of their concealment. Again Xymae shouted wildly.
“Kill them all,” she cried in shrill desperation.
The guards, swords drawn, charged the shocked councillors as Xymae leapt away. The queen’s advisors fumbled for their blades. Steel rang on steel. The ordered chamber swiftly became a scene of wild chaos. Men screamed imprecations, cried in pain and fear. One councillor fell, his skull cloven by a brutal cut. Luther parried, killed his man with a swift riposte. From the edge of vision he glimpsed Athua fell another.
But the tide of battle was against them – the queen’s advisors, all elderly men, were past their fighting prime: in as many seconds three more were strewn dead upon the floor. Luther saw that in but moments they would be overcome. With desperate recklessness he threw himself at the foe, sword windmilling madly.
“Get Xymae,” he wildly shouted as he cut down one opponent and drove back another.
Athua charged her sister. The three surviving councillors hurled themselves at two guards who tried to intercept her. Blades sparked as they crashed together in savage ringing strokes. The grim faced queen dodged around the wild melee as another guard and two more councillors fell upon the bloody floor. She darted at Xymae as the younger woman, now recovered from her shock whipped twin short swords from their scabbards.
“Yield Xymae, and I’ll let you live unharmed,” cried the queen.
Xymae laughed scornfully. “Never,” she yelled defiantly as she dashed at Athua with viciously swinging blades.
Luther killed his remaining foe, glimpsed the final councillor being cut down as Athua and Xymae stabbed and slashed at each other with feral violence. The Earthman cried a warning as the last surviving warrior rushed the queen.
“Behind you,” he wildly shouted as the burly guard leapt forward in a rapid lunge.
Athua jumped aside with adroit agility and the thrusting blade meant for her struck Xymae in the chest. The younger woman gasped. Her eyes went wide for a moment; then she crumpled lifeless to the floor. Athua howled. She split the guard’s skull with a brutal stroke, hacked his lifeless corpse in a savage frenzy of blows and curses that left her weak and panting. The bloody sword slipped from her fingers and clattered upon the floor as the terrible reality of it all sank home, and she fell to her knees and wept unrestrainedly on the body of her dead sister.
Luther knelt beside her and placed a comforting hand upon her trembling shoulder. Words failed him as they would for most of us.
Several of the long Thytan days had passed. Athua’s head lay pillowed in Luther’s lap as she rested on the sleeping mat. The queen’s eyes were closed, her posture relaxed and her aura golden with contentment as the Earthman gently and lovingly traced the lines of her countenance with his fingers. It was an all too brief interlude in a hectic schedule of rebuilding the city and the kingdom’s government.
Sounds of reconstruction, muted by distance, drifted in through the open window – the hammering of stonemasons, the rasp of the carpenter’s saw and the shouted orders of foremen. An army of workers and material had been brought in from the outlying districts of Edmu, and Koz was well on its way to being repaired.
From the outlying administrative zones of the kingdom had also come able women and men to replace those councillors who had been slain and other officials whom Athua suspected of being involved in Xymae’s plot.
The threat from Nur had also largely passed – a power struggle for the throne had arisen between two noble clans with the death of Kyas and his father, and it appeared an ugly civil war was in the making.
In Urlou Myadis’s cousin Jalan had been raised to the throne. Relations between Edmu and Urlou were frosty at the moment, for Jalan blamed Athua for Myadis’s death, but again the threat of war seemed unlikely. The queen’s spies had brought word that Jalan was more interested in maintaining the Urlouan monopoly on air boat manufacture, and was waiting for civil war to erupt in Nur and then, when the kingdom was weakened from internal strife, annex it to prevent a rival air power form arising.
So for now at least it seemed Edmu would enjoy a period of peace, but for how long, Luther wondered.
Athua opened her eyes and read the troubled thoughts upon her lover’s face.
“You worry too much,” she chided him. “One can paint all manner of dark imaginings on the canvas of the mind, none of which may come to fruition in reality. “Now,” she continued playfully, “can you think of nothing else to stroke but my brow?”
Luther laughed. His worries left him and bent to kiss her lips. Athua pulled him to her hungrily.
THE END