Swords of the Opal Moon

Author: Kirk Straughen

Synopsis: Xavier Logan stumbles upon an ancient city in the jungle and is transported to another world by a mysterious artifact in a ruined pyramid. Monsters, intrigue mystery and a beautiful queen await him on this far flung planet. Will he survive his ordeals and emerge victorious, or will an ugly death be his fate?

Edit history: Minor changes were made to this story on 19 June 2021

Chapter 1: Vortex of Worlds

Xavier Logan swung at the tangle of vines barring his path. His machete slashed through the lanais with the sharpness of his unvoiced curses, which he had long run out of breath for uttering. The boiling oaths of half a dozen languages bubbled in his mind as he stumbled along the jungle choked path that his eyes, skilled in long years of bushcraft, had managed to discern.

Logan raised the machete with a sweat streaked, weary arm which was leaden with fatigue and again hacked at the hindering verdure. Every now and then he glanced warily around, but had no real hope of catching a glimpse of his savage pursuers. A hard expression came upon his rugged face as he chopped another vine in twain. The natives might be invisible, true, but he was sure they were still on his trail, stalking him with all the deadly persistence of a jungle cat.

Bastards, he thought, viciously. Still, he’d known the risks when he left the Onoya River and struck out into Mebua country in search of diamonds. He reflected grimly on the fact that the shrunken heads of his three fellow adventurers and the ten bearers of the expedition now decorated the chief’s hut of that accursed village now many miles behind him. It had been sheer luck that he’d managed to escape – a sharp stone protruding from the ground against which he’d been able to saw his bonds.

Though free Logan knew he was finished. Eventually his pursuers would catch up with him. He hoped he’d be able to avenge his dead companions (whom it had been too late for him to save) by killing as many of the savages as he could before the inevitable end.

If only I could find a suitable place to make a final stand, Logan thought as he slashed at another barrier of dripping emerald vegetation.

As if in answer to his prayers he broke through the brush and stumbled out into a jungle glade. The light of the noonday sun filtered in slanting rays down through the dense canopy of trees, and fell upon the silent and time worn ruins of an ancient and nameless city. He stood on the edge of an overgrown plaza whose worn paving was almost completely buried beneath thick humus and rioting shrubbery.

Logan could see the humps of other ruined buildings about the edges of the plaza. These, too, were buried in rampant and exotic tropical growths. But in the centre of the square and dwarfing everything else, was a massive pyramid that reared up for hundreds of feet in cracked and jumbled tiers of jungle infested masonry. The towering building rose to the very canopy of the rainforest, where its peak was lost among the shadowed leaves of the crowding trees that grew upon it.

An arrow suddenly quivered in the tree against which Logan had leant to catch his breath. The alarming thud cut off his thoughts of treasure that the temple before him might contain. The adventurer bit back a curse and ran for the pyramid in a zigzag sprint. His back tingled in expectation of feathered death. The arrows were poisoned and he knew the slightest scratch would prove fatal.

Another arrow hissed passed Logan’s ear and spurred him onward. He gained the lowest step of the pyramid and raced up the fern choked treads. The poison arrows were falling all around him now as he scuttled like a spider up the steep stairway. The sweat of fear and exertion dripped from him. His heart beat furiously. Several times he tripped on vines and nearly tumbled to his death. Arrows pinged off stonework to his left and right. The apex was near and yet seemingly so far away. He could feel his strength giving out.

Then, drawing on the dregs of muscle power, he thrust his brawny frame through the slapping canopy, sped on by a final arrow, and collapsed upon the platform at the apex of the structure. Here, he lay for a time, gasping like a spent greyhound as he slowly recovered from the exhausting climb.

Eventually, Logan regained sufficient strength to raise his bone tired body on an elbow and look about. A squat cubical temple lay before him, its single door and two high windows giving it the unsettling appearance of a grinning skull. The adventurer felt his nape hair rise at the sight as a sense of dread washed over him – as if some foul psychic exhalation had flowed out from the black and forbidding doorway of the structure and coiled about him like the slimy tentacles of an octopus.

He cursed himself for giving way to superstition. The natives were the real threat rather than the ghosts that imagination’s fancy spun from the shadows of this mouldering ruin. The temple was a defensive position. The savages could not be far behind him. He had already lost too much time regaining his strength. Perhaps superstitious fear was also holding his bloodthirsty foes back. But he couldn’t afford to bet on that. He had to enter the temple now!

Staggering up, Logan lurched through the doorway and found himself in shadowed and musty coolness. As his eyes adjusted to the gloom objects began to emerge from the surrounding darkness. Strange and fantastic carvings leered at him from the walls – the crude effigies of heathen gods that were part man and part serpent. But it wasn’t these lurid bas reliefs that drew his startled gaze.

Instead, it was the strange artefact upon the floor in the centre of the room. It was a disc of ruby-like crystal whose depths swirled with flecks of golden light – as if a glowing vortex of unearthly power dwelt within the surface of the stone.

Logan gasped. His heart seemed to skip a beat and his mouth hung slack at the astounding sight. What it was he couldn’t even begin to guess. How it was built was beyond his ability to imagine. It confounded him with the mystery of its striking presence. He staggered forward, all else forgotten, and stared into the spinning light, which seemed to open up like a vast tunnel before his wondering eyes.

A tunnel to where? He dazedly thought, for the swirling movement of the motes was mildly hypnotic. Suddenly, he grew dizzy – his tiredness and the mesmerizing whirl proved to be his swift undoing. Logan stumbled, fell. Spinning redness engulfed him like the crimson maw of a monstrous giant. He screamed once, and then everything went black as reality vanished into a state of inexpressible strangeness.

**********

Logan opened his eyes. He lay face down upon the disc, but now it was dull and inert. He rolled on his back and muttered an oath. The temple roof hung above him, black with congealed shadow. His body tingled all over, but apart from this odd sensation he appeared to be unharmed. Could he have experienced a fatigue induced hallucination?

Slowly, Logan got to his feet. He no longer felt dead tired, but strangely invigorated. He must have been asleep for a long time to feel this good. Indeed, the darkness seemed to indicate night had fallen. Fear pricked him to action. His savage pursuers might be upon him at any moment. Logan swiftly strode to the doorway, machete at the ready.

He peered out. The machete slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor. The sight before him numbed his mind with shock. There was no sign of jungle. A stony desert, dotted with strangely spiralling ochre scrub, stretched out before him and in the evening sky hung a moon twice the size of Earth’s companion. It blazed like a vast opal jewel set in the black velvet of the star speckled heavens. Logan swayed and sank to the floor. Where he was and how he had gotten here was beyond human knowledge - he could only stare in disbelief at the alien sky and landscape, and the moonlit ruins of the surrounding city.

Logan was a strong man, both mentally and physically. Years of wandering the world’s trouble spots and the wild regions of the Earth had toughened him to granite hardness. Within about ten minutes he had accepted the reality of his strange situation and a sense of grand adventure slowly infused him. Wherever he was he felt sure that no man of Earth had been here before him.

He climbed to his feet, squared his broad shoulders and looked curiously about. Soon, his keen eyes spotted a glow in the ruins. A camp fire, perhaps? Logan began his descent of the temple stair, determined to investigate and find some answers to the crowding questions in his mind – where was he, how did he get here, what did it all mean? He also wondered what had made the fire – men, or something else entirely. Logan wasn’t a coward, but even so tingling fear ran down his spine as his imagination conjured up all kinds of horrid possibilities. He beat his terror down and pressed onward.

Stepping from the final tread of the towering pyramid, he made his way across the deserted and dusty plaza and soon found himself in a maze of narrow streets and terrace buildings that, with their pressing walls, made a claustrophobic path. Logan paused to examine one of the terrace houses. It was fronted by a long portico of graceful lancet arches above which was a wide balcony of equal length. Unglazed trefoil windows pierced the walls of the upper story.

The doorway – also a lancet archway – stood open. Uninviting darkness lay within. Time and the dust of slow decay shrouded the antique stones. A melancholy breeze, like the spirit of the city’s ancient dead, stirred the dust with its mournful passing. Logan shivered and moved on, eager to meet whoever had made the fire. Life of any kind in this place of depressing desolation would be a welcome sight.

The light from the fire, faintly reflected from the alabaster-like stone of the buildings, guided him through the labyrinth of narrow streets, and shortly Logan drew near the place where he was sure he had seen the blaze. A sense of excitement admixed with nervousness infused him as he cautiously approached the building from whence the flickering radiance came. Light spilt from the doorway, casting a pool of golden luminescence before the threshold. Logan hugged the shadowed wall.

All was quiet with eerie and unnerving silence. Sweat was upon Logan’s brow despite the coolness of the night. His heart hammered in his chest as he inched forward towards the doorway and cautiously peered within. Suddenly, the light was extinguished as if a heavy blanket had been thrown over the flames. The building was plunged into darkness. The sound of running feet made Logan spin about. He cursed. Dim figures were rushing at him.

He swung his machete. Something screamed, went down in a spray of blood. Reality became a nightmare of leaping, indistinct figures. Blades glittered in the opal moonlight. Logan struck, parried. His back was to the wall and a snarl was upon his lips as he fought. A sword leapt at him. He blocked the blow, cut at the half seen wielder. Another scream rang out, more blood spurted.

Shadowy forms closed in upon the desperate Earthman, their glowing crimson eyes wild with fell bloodlust. Logan vented a savage yell. He rushed his nameless foes, whirling the machete before him in a tornado of flashing steel. The things fell back before the violence of his charge. He gave a shout of victory – a shout cut short when a well aimed lump of stone crashed against his skull and sent him reeling into deeper darkness.

Chapter 2: Queen of the Golden City

Logan opened his eyes and winced. He was bound hand and foot, and a stabbing ache pained his head with all the venom of a malicious imp. He looked about and in the dawn light saw dark humps lying upon a dusty floor - the sleeping forms of the creatures that had attacked him in the night? In the dim daylight it was impossible to tell. Other figures stood upright in the shadows – sentries perhaps? Again, he couldn’t be sure. Logan tested his bonds and silently cursed – the tough cords were securely tied. He wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry.

He rolled over in an effort to ease his cramped limbs and his eyes fell upon a courtyard and the remains of a camp fire in its middle. He was lying on the floor of a pillared loggia that ran around the central square of the structure. Idly, he wondered what purpose the building had served when the city had been a living metropolis. It must have been a very long time since people lived here, or so he thought, for the very stones seemed to whisper to him of their hoary age. He had experienced a similar feeling when he had stood in the shadow of Egypt’s pyramids many years ago.

The scuff of feet upon the dusty floor broke in on Logan’s thoughts. He turned his head and his eyes widened in amazement. One of the sleepers had arisen - a woman, but one not human. She held a glowing rod in her hand and by its light he could see her skin was a starling turquoise colour. The irises of her large expressive eyes, set in a delicate heart-shaped face, were ruby red.

Her hair was cream in colour and held in an elaborate coiffure by golden combs encrusted with sparkling jewels. A loose strand, long and silky, caressed the graceful column of her neck and trailed between her youthful breasts. She was clad in brief robe of translucent amber cloth that gave enticing hints of the lissom figure beneath its elegant folds.

Logan found his breath taken from him. It had been a long time since he had seen a woman as beautiful as the one now cautiously approaching him, and it was with some difficulty that he marshalled his thoughts as she knelt beside him and gently touched the wound upon his head.

Before he could utter a word, warmth flowed from her fingertips and infused his brain with a golden light that chased away the pain. His mind seemed to swell like a balloon. Strange thoughts flowed in like pouring wine. He felt giddy. After a time the girl withdrew her hand. Logan’s swirling mind settled, and when he could focus his attention found the woman staring at him intently.

“What is your name, and where are you from?” she asked, her voice a strange melody of enchanting sound.

“Xavier Logan of Earth,” he replied automatically, and then gasped in sheer amazement for the girl hadn’t spoken in English, but in an unknown tongue as fluid as quicksilver: an alien language to which he had responded with unhesitant fluency - as if he’d known it all his life. He was left speechless with astonishment.

The girl smiled at his shocked expression. “I am Lyella, queen of Vari – the Golden City,” she explained. “I, like some others of my people, have powers of the mind that allow us to transfer thoughts from one person to another. It is by this means that I taught you our language in but a moment.”

Logan tensed as Lyella drew a slim blade from her girdle. “I’m going to free you, not cut your throat,” she explained wryly as she severed the binding cords. “When I entered your mind I sensed you mean us no harm. I’m sorry my husband’s bodyguards attacked you.”

“What else do you know about me, your majesty?” asked Logan, slightly unnerved at the thought of this slip of a girl reading his mind as if it was an open book.

“Please relax,” smiled the girl. “I’ve never placed much emphasis on the formality of royal protocols. Now, as to your question: I know that you came through the pyramid to Vazu, our world.”

Logan paused massaging the pins and needles from his limbs. Here, at last were possible answers to his pricking questions. “You know of the disc in the pyramid?” he asked excitedly. “What is it? How...”

Lyella forestalled his rush of words with a pleased laugh. “It is the sorcery of the Star Gods,” she explained, captivated by his exotic strangeness. “A thousand years ago they descended from the heavens and, though few in numbers, conquered our entire world of Vazu with their mighty magic.”

The girl shuddered, her moment of warmth chilled by the remembrance of ancient horrors. After a slight pause she then continued:

“They were like us in appearance – two arms, two legs, one head. But their skin was scaly and the colour of polished bronze and their eyes were entirely black – as black as the cruelty of their pitiless hearts. We became their slaves, their playthings – sport for their dark amusements.

“These beings ruled us for hundreds of years – a dark age of brutality in which we were but dirt beneath their feet. But then the Gods began to fight among themselves. Perhaps they grew tired of tormenting us and saw a greater challenge in the destruction of each other. Whatever the reason the result was devastating for our world – fire rained down from the sky. Entire cities were burned to ash and the surrounding land poisoned with invisible death.

“Vazu was laid waste by unbridled destruction as the Star Gods unleashed their potent magic. The very world trembled and my ancestors fled to deep caverns within the earth. When they emerged after many days in darkness and utter fear the surviving Gods were gone. The manner of your arrival suggests they fled our ruined world using the gateway in the pyramid.”

The girl rubbed her arms as if to warm herself against a sudden chill. “It took us many centuries to rise from the savagery into which we fell.”

Logan wore a grim expression as the girl fell silent. His mind easily stripped away the magical elements of the story – it was a tale of alien invasion and the conquest of a less advanced people. His own world’s history was full of similar examples of colonial exploitation. The few surviving aliens had fled to Earth. Perhaps the gateway on his world indicated they planned to return to Vazu, but never did for some unknown reason. Now that he thought about it he recalled the tribes of the Mebua region had ancient legends of a mysterious race of serpent-men who had lived in the misty past, and then vanished as inexplicably as they had come.

The Earthman’s musings were interrupted by an angry cry. He quickly turned, alert for danger, and saw another sleeper had awoken – a man who now strode purposefully towards him. Logan tensed. The fellow’s handsome features were marred by a belligerent expression and a naked short sword was clenched within his fist. His single white kilt-like garment was embroidered in a fish scale pattern with thread of gold, denoting he was a Prince of Vari.

“Lyella,” growled the man as Logan and the girl hastily stood. “Keep away from that creature.”

The queen raised an eyebrow. “I’ll do as I please,” she replied sharply, annoyed at her consort’s increasingly arrogant manner. “Besides, I have entered his mind,” continued Lyella airily. “He is no danger to us unless attacked, which of course can be said of any man.”

Zuan scowled. Why was his wife near the creature? Why had she freed it? Was she attracted to it? Impossible, yet suspicion whispered insidious poison in his ear.

“My dead warriors,” he snapped, “would tell a different story if they could.” Then, with venom that was spat directly at the Earthman: “I still say you should have let me slit the creature’s throat.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. His nostrils flared. He’d take neither threat nor insult from any man be they prince or peasant, and least of all from the swaggering bastard now before him. Indignant rage spurred his razor tongue to a lightening riposte.

“Is that the only way you can kill a man?” he retorted hotly, “When he is bound and unable to defend himself. You won’t find it so easy now I’m free, I assure you, you foul mouthed bag of dirt.”

Zuan turned. A malicious sneer spread across his face as he looked the Earthman up and down with supercilious contempt. In that brief instant both men had taken an intense dislike to each other.

“The creature has challenged me - a challenge I happily accept,” he gloated. “Unless of course,” he mockingly added, “he wants to hide behind the softness of a woman.”

The Earthman stiffened at this imputation of cringing cowardice. His fists clenched to knuckle whiteness. He stepped aggressively towards Zuan, eager to knock this loudmouthed oaf on his arse. The prince laughed with dismissive overconfidence at the dangerous look in his opponent’s eyes.

“Enough,” warned Lyella, as she placed a restraining hand upon her husband’s brawny sword arm, and pressed her other to Logan’s barrel chest. “This man is a stranger unfamiliar with our customs. His words were merely spoken in reaction to your provocation. Let the matter rest.”

“A stranger, yes,” cried Zuan vehemently as he jerked his arm free of Lyella’s grip and angrily stepped away from her. “A stranger whom you show more favour than your own husband who is a prince! This thing challenged me. It is my right to fight the creature. Is this not so?”

Zuan’s appeal was not directed at the queen but to the sentries and sleeping warriors who had been roused by his fiercely spoken words – warriors who were now hurriedly approached the trio with naked steel in their brawny fists, and expressions no less hard than their glittering blades.

“You are indeed my husband,” replied Lyella frostily, ignoring his entreaty. “But I am you queen... Very well Zuan, if you must strut your manhood then do so. But I command this dual shall not be to the death. Both of you must fight without the aid of weapons.” And then to the prince’s bodyguard: “And without interference from anyone.”

The queen then turned worriedly to Logan who stood tense and alert, ready for the worst: “I’m truly sorry that my husband has insisted upon his rights... Please be careful. He is a dangerous fighter.”

“So am I,” replied Logan, levelly. He was somewhat surprised at her apprehension for him – a stranger and an alien to boot. Something odd was going on, but at the moment he hadn’t time to try and figure things out.

Zuan tossed his sword upon the floor. Its clatter drew Logan’s eye. “I don’t need this to deal with you,” he sneered. “The last man standing shall be the winner, and that man will be me.”

The Earthman smiled coldly as he looked at his opponent. Zuan was taller by a head than the Earthman, but not as heavily muscled – his physique possessed all the swift and deadly litheness of a panther, whereas Logan’s blocky body was more akin to that of a Greco-roman wrestler. The Earthman was under no illusions that he was going to have an easy victory.

Lyella stepped back, shaking her head, her brow furrowed with concern. Her husband’s warriors had sheathed their blades, but they stood tensely like hounds straining upon a leash. Logan ignored them and concentrated on his foe. They began circling each other like snarling wolves. Both men were dangerously eager for a fight.

Zuan shouted, struck. Logan blocked the wild punch. In an instant both men were trading vicious blows - fists, feet, elbows and knees flew like deadly shuttles weaving a tapestry of unmitigated violence.

Lyella looked on, hands pressed against her breast in consternation as she watched the fighters swirl about in a tornado of flashing limbs. She gasped as Logan took a vicious kick to the stomach, tumbled. The Earthman’s well conditioned abdominals shrugged off the attack. He sprung erect and felled the prince with a sweeping leg. Zuan was down but not out. He caught Logan’s leg as the Earthman tried to boot him in the ribs.

The prince jerked the captured limb. Logan crashed to the floor. Zuan flung himself on the man. They grappled furiously, head butting each other like crazed bulls. The prince broke free, rolled on his back and kicked Logan in the chest with both feet. The Earthman, driven back by the powerful blow, skidded across the floor.

Zuan lurched erect, snarling like a rabid dog. Logan fought against a sea of pain. He gasped for breath as the prince staggered towards him. He saw grim murder in his opponent’s eye as he tried to struggle up. Zuan laughed madly. His evil mirth roused the Earthman’s fury, leant him strength. Logan surged through the agony and to his feet.

The prince cursed. Both men faced each other, breathing hard. Each was covered in sweat, blood and a patchwork of glaring contusions. Zuan could see Logan had the greater stamina. He cursed again, rushed the man in a flurry of wild blows - a desperate bid to floor him. Logan’s guard absorbed the punishing attack. He saw an opening, struck with all his strength and rage.

Zuan was rocked back on his heels. He staggered drunkenly. Logan grinned mirthlessly. His eyes were hard. His fists were harder. They flashed like lightning bolts, hammering the prince with swift and merciless blows that drove the reeling man across the floor.

Zuan went down on one knee under the savagery of the assault. Blood flowed from a gash above one eye and a split upon his lip. His shielding arms were covered with livid bruises from the Earthman’s furious attack. A vile curse exploded from his mouth. To be humiliated before his wife by a base born savage was intolerable. Burning anger fired his flagging strength. He whipped a dagger from beneath his garment; struck upward as Logan towered over him, fist raised to deliver the finishing blow.

Lyella cried in fear: “look out,” she screamed.

The Earthman jumped aside and the viciously leaping blade scored a bloody line across his flesh.

The prince was on his feet. He lunged at Logan with all the feral rage of a cornered beast. The Earthman dodged his foe’s stabbing blade. He grasped prince’s darting arm, twisted. Zuan crashed heavily to the floor. He screamed as Logan broke his wrist with a judo hold, and cried again when the Earthman kicked him in the head.

For Zuan the fight was over, but for Logan it was just beginning – he saw the hard faced warriors closing in upon him, each brawny fighter hungry to avenge their bleeding prince. The Earthman bravely faced them, but unarmed, outnumbered and weakened from the fight he knew that against the closing ring of glinting blades he stood as much chance as a snowflake in the fiery depths of Hell.

Chapter 3: Aboard the Xaru

Stop,” cried the queen as the warriors, their blades lethally poised, closed in upon the wild eyed and defiant Earthman. “The stranger has fairly bested Zuan. He is now under my protection.”

The fighters hesitated. Some muttered oaths beneath their breath; others looked at each other, at their unconscious master who lay upon the dirty floor. Logan was as dangerous as a cocked revolver, ready to let fly. The situation was on a knife edge of explosive violence.

Lyella stared down the grumbling men. Do you dare defy your queen?” she snarled with all the fierceness of a tigress. “Put away your swords and get our craft ready for departure. I command it!”

The warriors dropped their eyes under the queen’s regal and intimidating gaze. They sheathed their blades and went about the girl’s command, but all too slowly for Logan’s liking and with an air of simmering insubordination that kept his lips thin with worry. It seemed he had landed in a serpent’s nest of trouble. He thoughtfully watched the girl as she knelt beside her husband. The look of contempt on her face made it clear that what she was doing was out of duty rather than affection. Lyella touched Zuan’s injuries with her healing powers, and then ordered two warriors to carry the still unconscious man away.

To the Earthman it was now clear that there was a power struggle going on between the queen and her consort. Zuan was an arrogant fellow and more than likely ambitious, but probably with little real authority except over his personal guard. No doubt it irked him that he was simply an appendage to the throne. There seemed more hostility than affection between the couple, and from what Logan could see a coup d’état was in the making.

These thoughts were interrupted by the girl’s approach. He relaxed a little. Had the queen defended him out of justice, to spite her husband, or was there some other motive? The exact reasons would no doubt be revealed in time. Wordlessly, she placed her hands against Logan’s injuries. Instantly, the pain was washed away by a gentile tide of golden light that also accelerated his body’s healing processes.

Lyella sighed; she unexpectedly sagged against Logan. The startled Earthman quickly held the girl’s slim body against his own to support her.

“Using my powers weakens me,” explained Lyella tiredly as she nestled against him, her expressive eyes capturing his heart with a subtle beseeching look. “I’ve overexerted myself. Will you please carry me until I regain my strength? Oh... you are strong,” she gasped as Logan easily lifted her shapely form in his brawny arms.

“I must be by necessity,” he replied thickly as he gazed upon her exotic beauty – a beauty that was barely concealed by the diaphanous nature of her brief apparel. Indeed, with Lyella held against him the Earthman suddenly felt as if he could take on an entire army single handed.

The queen ran her fingers lightly across his bulging muscles, an act that sent his pulse racing with mad desire – blazing feelings that made him curse the bitter fact she was a married woman and of noble birth that put her even further beyond his reach.

“And I must be strong as well”, murmured Lyella with a look of studied calmness that masked her own swelling desire. Then, quickly pointing towards the departing warriors: “Kindly follow them.”

Logan brought up the rear of the procession. The girl, preoccupied with her own thoughts, was quiet in his arms as he moved through the dusty halls of the ancient building. The Earthman’s mind was also busy contemplating the predicament he was in – Lyella clearly desired him. The jealous prince hated him. The air was thick with plots. Logan, despite his perilous circumstances found he couldn’t help but grin. The situation was at least more interesting than a boring desk job that was the lot of many men.

Shortly, they exited the building and Logan stared in wonder at the strange conveyance that rested before the structure’s ornate edifice. The craft resembled a Viking longship in general form – a timber vessel of ivory coloured wood with a flamboyant high curving prow and stern, elaborately carved and gilded. Unlike a longship the craft rested on cast bronze runners in the manner of a helicopter, and bolted upon its hull were many hemispheres of a greenish alloy that were interconnected by insulated copper rods.

Lyella noted the Earthman’s amazed expression and smiled. “It is a flying ship – the magical invention of Medron, sorcerer to my court, wonder worker of the age, and our reason for being here, but enough explanations for the moment. Carry me aboard the Xaru as our ship is called, and I will tell you more when we are comfortably ensconced.”

If this craft flies, then it’s by science, not sorcery, thought Logan as he carried the girl up the flying ship’s boarding ramp. Was its motive power a levitating electromagnetic force? The Earthman couldn’t be sure, but it did seem strange to him that Medron would posit an occult explanation for what he surely must have known was science. Logan shrugged his shoulders: it was just one more mystery to be explored.

As the Earthman stepped down into the craft he glimpsed at its stern a weird construction of interlocking crystal spheres and cones whose complex innards looked like those of some outlandish vacuum tube. Was this the generator of the force that gave their vessel flight? His speculations were interrupted by Lyella, who gestured towards a tent-like structure at the Xaru’s bow.

“My quarters,” explained the queen. “We can talk in private there.”

Logan carried her across the crowded waist, dodging with difficulty the thirty bustling crewmen who were preparing to get the craft under way. From the presence of rowing benches, and the stub of a sawn off mast, the Earthman deduced the Xaru had been a small ocean going craft that Medron had hastily modified for flight. Comfort had clearly not been the foremost consideration in the inventor’s mind, and so it was little wonder the party had slept in the city under more amenable conditions.

They entered the pavilion and Logan laid the queen gently on a nest of pillows. The Earthman then looked warily about the improvised and plainly furnished cabin. There was no sign of Lyella’s murderous husband and he smiled to himself. It would be very pleasant to have a monopoly on the girl’s vivacious company.

The queen pointed at a low table laden with bowls of dried fruit, red in hue and resembling quinces, but with pebbled skins. A flagon of amber fluid and goblets had also been provided by an orderly.

“You are hungry,” observed Lyella with a smile. “Please sit beside me and help yourself. I will join you and explain our situation.”

Logan cautiously sampled the fruit, which was from the umana tree. It was sweet and unlike anything he had ever tasted, as was the amber fluid called renna – a kind of cordial, for the art of brewing was unknown upon Vazu. As they breakfasted Lyella unburdened herself to him, and as she did so the Earthman sensed that all her wealth and power couldn’t compensate for the loneliness of her high estate.

“This city, called Navi, was built by my remote ancestors,” she explained. “But when the Star Gods came they drove my forebears out and made it the heart of their empire, and it is here that many of their magical devices still remain.

“Medron sent Zuan here in search of one such occult instrument,” continued Lyella, “for Vari is under threat from creatures we call the hagru. These beings were caused by the war -when the Star Gods fought each other they unleashed dark magic that remained even after the conflict was over: a curse that caused many women to give birth to the monsters: violent beings my ancestors were forced to exile to these war caused wastelands.”

Mutants resulting from atomic radiation thought Logan as the girl shuddered in sick revulsion for a moment at the thought of such monstrosities emerging from her still virgin womb.

“They are huge shambling brutes of low intelligence,” explained the queen. “But incredibly dangerous because of their immense size, strength and sheer viciousness. Occasionally, they cross the mountain barrier that separates the desert regions from the fertile land we inhabit, raid an outlying village, and carry off as much livestock and women as they can.

“Shortly before my father, King Toran’s death, large numbers migrated from the wastelands and established themselves in the jungle at the foot of the barrier range. Their raids have become more numerous and better organised. At the moment it is a stalemate – we cannot drive them from their jungle fastness and they cannot overrun our city. But this impasse must be broken before they breed up to numbers that can overwhelm us, for our lush country is more conducive to their genesis.

“Merdon, using his occult arts, divined the location of a magical machine within this ruined city that he believes can turn the tide of battle in our favour. He made a model of it so that it could be identified when located. This we have succeeded in doing – it is now aboard our craft. I accompanied my husband to seek diversion, for life at court can be so terribly stultifying at times. But I see now that I have been foolishly naive. As you saw his men obey me, but only just. I suspect he plots against me.”

Logan stirred uneasily as Lyella stared intently at him. Her searching gaze weighed his reactions as she waited expectantly for his reply. He sensed she sought to enmesh him in her troubles, and although the Earthman craved adventure he wasn’t completely reckless.

“This is all very fascinating,” he responded cautiously. “And I am very grateful to you for coming to my aid. But what exactly does it have to do with me? After all, I am a complete stranger to this world. I hardly know anything...”

“It has everything to do with it,” replied the girl, with earnest insistence. “I can be sure you are not involved in any plot against me. You are an adventurer – strong, courageous, and resourceful. With all the threats around me I need a man by my side I know I can trust, and after looking into your mind I am certain you are that man.”

“I know Zuan is your husband,” suggested Logan carefully, “but couldn’t you have him arrested? Surely, that is the simplest solution to the possible threat he poses.”

Lyella shook her head. “Zuan is popular among the other nobles,” explained the girl. “Any move against him will divide us – something that will only benefit the hagru. That fact might be holding him back as well, at least for the moment. But when this crises passes I will do more than have him arrested; I’ll have the filthy orag* assassinated before he can move against me,” she admitted, vehemently. “Oh, how I abhor the man!”

A shocked expression came upon Logan’s face. The young queen was certainly placing her trust in him with this forthright confession. Lyella must have truly read his nature deeply to take him so thoroughly into her confidence and know he wouldn’t betray her.

“My father died before he could sire any male heirs,” elaborated Lyella when she saw the Earthman’s reaction to her frankness. “It was his dying wish that I marry Zuan so I would have a man to stand beside me and help me face the hagru threat. What could I do... how could I deny my beloved father his last request? But to my horror I discovered the prince is sexually perverse, and I have kept him from my bed since our nuptials a year ago.”

Lyella looked away and pressed her palm to her face. “Oh,” she sobbed, suddenly overcome by her all troubles, “there are times when I feel so... so terribly alone.”

Logan’s heart went out to the girl – she was so beautiful, so vulnerable. Her plight would have moved a granite boulder to compassion. Logan was no boulder - he placed his hand gently upon hers. Lyella turned. She gazed upon him with longing, his gentle touch stirring all her unquenched passions. In an instant she was in his arms. Their lips met in a fierce, hungry kiss.

They tumbled back into the nest of cushions. The girl’s arms encircled Logan. She crushed him to her straining body. Her legs went around him. Her nails dug into his back. She cried out softly, then urgently pushed him away and lay panting heavily, one arm thrown across her face, her firm breasts heaving against the diaphanous fabric of her robe.

“I... I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I... I cannot give myself to you. Such is the burden of the crown... and the tyranny of my slavery to it.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” consoled Logan gently as he sat beside her. Even though he was afire with the passion of a rutting stallion he would not force himself upon the girl. “I... I understand,” he continued with forced calmness and diplomacy. “I wouldn’t want you to go against your moral code.”

Lyella smiled timorously. “Thank you,” she said softly. “I am truly grateful for your understanding and compassion, more than my poor words can express. Could you leave me for a while so I can... so I can compose myself? You will think about my request though, won’t you?”

“Yes, I will,” he reassured the girl, then quickly exited her quarters before his disappointment at their unconsummated passion showed, for many months had passed since he’d been intimate with a woman. The Earthman, despite his wild ways, was a diamond in the rough.

Logan, chin on hand, leaned against the Xaru’s gunnels as it began to rise with the swift and silent smoothness of an elevator. Soon, the ruined city was a child’s toy of jumbled building blocks far beneath him.

The flying ship passed over the desert and ancient Navi was gradually obscured by the haze of distance. The landscape slowly changed, and within an hour the stony wasteland had given way to an all encompassing labyrinth of massive sandstone domes and spires striated in black and orange bands. Between the soaring rocks, some of which towered up to four hundred feet, were yawning gorges.

Here and there among the narrow chasms glinted deep pools – natural springs of mirror brightness, and where their limpid waters lay oasis of vegetation flourished exuberantly in an otherwise arid and rugged landscape. Tree-like succulents with rosette leaves of silvery green, vicious black thorns and trumpet flowers of startlingly florescent purple held aloft grey branches in seeming benediction to the sun. In the extreme distance was a towering mountain chain that stretched from horizon to horizon, and against the backdrop of its rugged bluish peaks a column of pale smoke twisted lazily into the azure sky – the cook fire of a savage hagru tribe.

The Earthman, lost deep in thought, was barely aware of the striking scenery. He knew chivalry demanded he help the queen, but caution whispered hesitation in his ear: he had no real knowledge of the situation except what he’d been told. He wanted to assist, but now he was in a calmer more reflective mood he knew fools rush in where angels often fear to tread...

Thus wrestling with his thoughts, Logan failed to sense the dastardly prince creeping up behind him. Closer came Zuan, nearer still. His jealous rage rose higher, fuelled by suspicion and explicit visions of the Earthman between the naked thighs of his ecstatic wife, for he knew they’d been alone together and had an inkling of their attraction to each other.

The prince was within striking distance. His rage reached its dark climax. Zuan lunged. He grabbed Logan by the ankles, heaved. The Earthman uttered a yelp of knifing fear as he was toppled overboard and plunged head first to the hard earth a thousand feet below.

*Footnote: Orag: A large yellow beetle-like invertebrate that feeds on dung and produces a putrid odour when disturbed.

Chapter 4: The Golden City

As Logan fell his hand lashed out and caught an insulated rod that linked the levitation hemispheres. He gasped in agony as his body jerked to a jarring stop. The Earthman hung swaying by a single hand. He could feel his grip begin to weaken, his sweating fingers slip. He swore, caught hold of the rod with his other hand and eased the strain upon his trembling arm. Looking up he saw Zuan. The man’s face was ugly with the black rage of frustrated revenge.

Logan cursed him. The prince grabbed a spear from a nearby rack of weapons. He thrust it viciously at the Earthman’s face. Logan’s arm swept out and deflected the darting point. Pain seared him as sharp steel gashed his forearm. He fought through the agony, grabbed the weapon’s haft and jerked savagely.

Zuan swore as the spear was torn violently from his grasp. Logan thrust it upward viciously. The weapon’s butt struck his foe hard upon the chin. The prince grunted, tumbled. Logan dropped the spear, grabbed the gunnels and swiftly hauled himself aboard. Zuan sprang erect, spitting blood and curses. Both men faced each other like snarling lions as the prince’s warriors rushed to his defence.

“Enough,” cried Lyella, whose strident voice was like a shot across the bows – an explosive command that halted all aboard. “I thought I heard a ruckus. Zuan,” she continued as she strode towards him, a dangerous glint in her eye. “Explain yourself.”

“The fool fell overboard,” snarled the prince, not daring to take his eyes off the enraged Earthman. “I lowered a spear so he could grab it and be hauled to safety. The idiot misinterpreted my actions and attacked me.”

“I fell overboard because you threw me overboard,” roared Logan in unmitigated fury at this blatant lie and the treacherous attempt upon his life.

“That will do,” replied the queen as she stepped between the bristling pair; then, turning to the Earthman: “You had best spend the rest of the voyage in my quarters least there be any more... unfortunate accidents.”

“You’d keep this thing in your cabin,” spat the prince. Then he uttered a bitter laugh. “My loving wife keeps me from her bed, yet plays the whore with a dirty animal,” he sneered. “When the High Council hears of this, Lyella, you’ll be impeached!”

The queen blanched at the gross insult. Her lips thinned and she raked Zuan with a look of utter loathing that was beyond expressing in mere words.

“Have a care Zuan,” she hissed as she turned savagely on him. “Should the Council hear of your unnatural lusts it would be even worse for you. It is out of respect for Baru, your father that I remain silent, for I do not wish to see shame brought upon his noble house. Be warned husband: do not threaten me, and I will not threaten you.”

The prince swore, stung by this cutting rebuke. He called Lyella an even fouler name. Logan’s temper flared beyond control. He’d had enough of Zuan and all the vileness he heaped upon this noble girl. The Earthman slammed his fist against the prince’s chin, cutting off his gush of evil words. The lightening blow, backed by all the power of his brawny frame and boiling rage, sent his foe crashing unconscious to the planking.

“I think,” he observed with forced calmness as he stared at the fallen man, fists balled tensely and wishing Zuan would rise so he could have the pleasure of flattening him again, “that it would be best if the prince keeps away from of me for the duration of the voyage.” Then, turning decisively to the girl: “I’ve thought about what you said. You have my solemn promise I’ll aid you in any way I can.”

Lyella smiled. Her heart seemed to skip a beat as she gazed at his rugged features, muscular physique and contemplated the noble soul that dwelt within this pleasing frame. Then her joy turned to sadness at the thought of what might have been had she not been bound in a loveless marriage to a loathsome prince and Logan of royal blood. The young queen sighed regretfully, and quietly led the Earthman through the milling warriors and to the sanctuary of her cabin.

**********

It was late afternoon and Logan looked down upon Vari – the Golden City – as the flying ship came in to land. The remainder of the voyage had been pleasantly uneventful, and the time had passed with remarkable swiftness in the pleasurable company of Lyella. They had discussed many things, but chiefly the Earthman’s adventures on the planet of his birth, outrageously embellished for the entertainment of the girl. Neither made mention of that moment of wild passion that nearly overcame them.

Zuan Logan saw but once – when the prince poked his head through the pavilion’s flap and gazed stonily upon them. Lyella, being in high spirits after hearing one of the Earthman’s bawdy and improbable tales, threw a cushion at her husband in mock anger. Zuan retreated, consumed by impotent rage and jealousy that was green as gall and bitter as wormwood.

All in all, Logan had found himself wishing the journey would never end, and it gave him pause for thought. Was he falling in love with the girl, or was his passion merely lust? It would be very easy to love her – she was young, beautiful and possessed a vivacious personality.

The Earthman had done many things in his adventurous career – smuggling arms to freedom fighters in Africa, digging up Mayan tombs in South America and brawling his way from one corner of the globe to another. He knew he was in search of something – something that could calm the strange sense of restlessness that possessed him. Adventure had done that in part, but he was still oddly discontent. He looked from the corner of his eye at Lyella who stood beside him, and an inexplicable feeling suddenly came upon him.

Could it be, he pondered... Could it be?

“What do you think of Vari?” asked the girl, suddenly.

“It is beautiful,” replied Logan whose speculation was interrupted by the question. Then he thought the words he must not utter least he tempt her to break her land’s harsh laws: but not as fair as you. The thought was bittersweet for he knew she was beyond his reach as was the moon.

Lyella smiled sadly, as if hearing his unspoken thoughts; then sought distraction from the poignant feelings also afflicting her by turned her attention to the panoramic scene.

The metropolis was indeed a wondrous sight. The Golden City was divided into quarters by two broad avenues that intersected at its heart where the palace of the queen was situated. The royal compound was an expansive and informal garden bright with flowering trees, shrubs and large ornamental ponds in which stood jetting fountains that held captive rainbows in their fanning webs of spray.

The timber buildings, whose reddish wood was speckled with golden flecks, were laid out in small groups that seemed to peek shyly from the luxuriant and outlandishly hued verdure. The buildings were square in plan and raised up on polished granite pillars. A broad and shady veranda encircled each structure. The high roofs, reminiscent of oriental pagodas, were sheathed in emerald coloured tiles. The walls of the buildings were broken here and there by large intricate panels of fretwork and square windows that allowed the ingress of cooling breezes – essential in the sultry tropical climate. Elaborate friezes of cream parquetry were the dominate form of ornamentation.

Vari was laid out in a neat grid of streets. The houses of the plebeians were much like those of the palace as were their gardens, but on a scale of lesser grandeur. In the east were fertile farmlands, and beyond was the mountain chain the Xaru had flown above. The Menar range ran like an immense stone spine down the length of the Umran continent and at its base flourished rampant tropical jungle whose verdure, like that of the city’s gardens was a startling shade of rose with azure variegations.

In the west was the sparkling Sea of Oraz that lapped the narrow coast upon which Vari was built. A small fleet of merchant ships, much like their aerial conveyance, lay placidly at anchor in the crescent bay awaiting the loading of cargo destined for the Kingdoms of the Hundred Isles.

The Xaru continued its smooth descent and landed by a central group of buildings in the palace grounds. A contingent of servants and warriors awaited the flying ship’s arrival, and as the queen and Logan disembarked a singular figure stepped forward to greet them – Medron, sorcerer to royal court.

A sense of deep unease swept the Earthman as he laid eyes on the man. The sorcerer was clad in a hooded robe of crimson that covered his painfully thin body from head to foot. His slender hands were gloved in sable cloth and his face hidden by a smiling mask of gold. Not a patch of bare skin showed anywhere. This peculiar mode of dress, the queen had advised him, had been forced upon Medron because he was an albino and his skin very sensitive to light.

Medron bowed deeply to the queen. His words rustled quietly like dry leaves in the breath of his eerie voice. “My heart is gladdened by your safe return, Queen Lyella. But where is Prince Zuan. He is well, I trust?”

The girl smiled. “I see you are as formal as ever dear Medron. As for the prince: he is aboard supervising the unloading of the Star God’s magical device.”

For a moment the sorcerer’s frail body seemed to quiver, as if gripped by a strange ecstasy. Then he calmed and continued in a placid tone. “It is good that you found it... and something else as well, I see.”

The hooded head turned and Logan found himself staring into the black eye-slits of the sorcerer’s golden mask. A shiver ran down the Earthman’s spine. Logan wasn’t easily frightened, but for all its smiling cherubic beauty he sensed something unnervingly sinister lurking behind the bright facade – a dark and menacing power that made him recoil as if a venomous snake had suddenly slithered from beneath the hem of Medron’s robe.

Lyella placed a calming hand upon Logan’s shoulder and introduced him. “My friend is from another planet,” she continued, then briefly explained the Earthman’s arrival on Vazu and concluded thus: “Please forgive Xavier’s reaction. This world is alien to him and everything so very strange.”

“I completely understand,” replied the sorcerer with diplomatic suaveness. Then to Logan: “I’m eager; as I’m sure you appreciate, to know more about you and the world from whence you came. But you must be tired from your journey,” he continued solicitously. “Perhaps tomorrow we can meet informally over breakfast and get to know each other better.”

Logan forced a smile. “I look forward to that,” he lied.

“Medron is right,” said Lyella. “It has been a long day and nightfall is almost upon us.” The queen beckoned a fellow among the crowd, and then turned to Logan as the man approached. “This is Aru, one of my personal servants. He will conduct you to the royal guestrooms. If you have any need ask and he shall attend to it. I shall dine with you at breakfast on the morrow, for this evening I must convene a lengthy meeting with my ministers and Medron to discuss the threat our enemies – the savage hagru - pose.”

“You are most kind,” replied Logan sincerely. “I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

The Earthman took his leave and followed Aru along a gravel path of milky quartz, and as he walked away some sixth sense made his flesh crawl under the sinister and mocking gaze of Medron’s mask concealed eyes - eyes that were fixed upon his back with all the malignancy of a predatory beast.

**********

Despite the lateness of the hour Logan found he couldn’t sleep. He paced restlessly up and down the length of his room, oblivious to its elegant simplicity, his mind occupied by worrying thoughts of Medron. There was something strange about the sorcerer, but not in an occult sense. No... It was something else entirely.

Since their meeting Logan had been plagued by the suspicion that Medron’s robe and mask hid more than just a skin condition – a misgiving that was only increased by the fact that, according to Aru, the sorcerer had appeared shortly after the hagru invasion, claiming he had come from the distant and mysterious Kingdom of Senedra, and had ingratiated himself into Lyella’s confidence with predictions of where and when the enemy would attack. The Earthman stopped pacing and looked up. The sorcerer’s apartments were above his own. They were empty, for he was meeting with the queen and her councillors, and would probably be thus occupied until midnight.

Logan made up his mind. He moved with the silence of a shadow to the door, eased it open and peered out. Dezu, the opalescent moon, was veiled by heavy clouds. Silence and darkness were upon the world – perfect conditions for what he planned. But two sentries stood like statues upon either side of the staircase that led to the upper floor. The Earthman uttered a silent curse – by their bearing he knew both men were dangerously alert. There would be no slipping past them unseen.

Closing the door carefully, Logan padded on naked feet to the open window on the opposite side of his room. He looked out on the veranda that encircled the building, his keen eyes sweeping up and down its broad length. It was satisfyingly deserted. The Earthman eased his brawny frame across the sill, and in but moments was shinning up one of the ornately carved veranda posts.

Logan sweated as he climbed. He knew he had launched himself on a dangerous enterprise, and if Medron returned unexpectedly... he pushed the thought aside and concentrated on his ascent. He simply had too many worrying suspicions to let the matter rest. Shortly, his hand grabbed the rail of the upper veranda. The Earthman hauled himself across it and stood for a moment to catch his breath as he looked warily about.

No threat presented itself to his roving gaze and relief swept over him like a cooling breeze. Logan moved to a curtained window, pushed the heavy black drapes aside and cautiously peered within. The unoccupied room was illuminated by a sphere of softly glowing liquid that hung from the ceiling. A large table occupied the centre of the apartment, and upon it was a panoply of glassware that Logan recognised as laboratory equipment not too dissimilar from that of his student days.

Scattered about the room was other paraphernalia the Earthman couldn’t put a name to. However, there was one object he recognised by Lyella’s description of it - the device Prince Zuan’s expedition had recovered from the ruins of ancient Navi. The instrument was like a searchlight in appearance – a disc of silvery alloy about a yard across and half that in thickness. It was mounted on a solid tripod in such a way that it could be turned in any direction. Unlike a searchlight, though, a stubby crystal cone, glowing faintly with violet light, protruded from one face of the mechanism’s disc.

Logan’s lips thinned at what he saw. Medron was a liar – he was a scientist, not a sorcerer. But why would the man hide the truth? What did he have to gain by his deception? Was he trying to overawe these people, to play on their superstitions with claims to occult powers? The Earthman, determined to find the answer, slid stealthily through the window. But all his furtiveness proved of no avail for the cunning trap was sprung by motion sensors.

The instrument from ancient Navi swiftly swung upon Logan. Its crystal cone flared to life and a ray of violet light bathed him in its tingling effulgence. Instantly, the Earthman found he was utterly paralysed. He stained mightily, but to no avail. Horror enveloped him. The light, like a pulsing Gorgon’s eye stared full upon him, freezing his muscles to the rigidity of stone. He was trapped, helpless.

His frantic struggles were interrupted by the sudden opening of the door. Fear knifed Logan with blades of ice as the soft laugh of the sorcerer tainted the night with its sinister mockery.

Chapter 5: Behind the Mask

Medron closed the door behind him and glided into the room with all the fluid deadliness of a serpent. Cold hard eyes glittered behind the cherubic mask, and Logan felt their chill stare as they raked him with contempt for a moment. Then the sorcerer turned away and moved towards a large disc of lucid crystal attached to a black sphere that was supported by a tripod. His gloved fingers touched silver buttons on the sphere. The disc glowed, ran with colours. A face of bestial hideousness appeared within it. Logan would have cursed if he’d been able – from descriptions he knew it was the savage visage of a hagru.

“I have the magic weapon, Roog,” Medron informed the creature. “It is time for fighting. Repeat my plan so I know you still understand.”

The hagru’s beetling brow knitted in concentration and the brute’s piggish eyes glazed with the unaccustomed effort. After a moment of strained thought the creature began to speak, the mumbled words emerging from its thin and bestial lips with glacial slowness.

“We march when sun rises,” it rumbled. “You make magic. Make enemies like stone. We kill, take women, food; good life for us, yes?”

“Yes, Roog,” replied Medron with steel hardness. “But if you fail me...”

The brute’s eyes widened in utter fear and its shaggy body trembled. “Not fail, master,” it quavered, “not fail.”

Logan struggled wildly as the sorcerer questioned his bestial general on other aspects of his diabolical plan of conquest. The Earthman heaped silent curses upon himself – he’d been right in his suspicions but had walked into the sorcerer’s trap like a blind man, and now he was completely paralysed - utterly helpless to expose Medron’s cunning treachery.

An ugly and sickening vision arose within his churning mind – the noble ranks of Vari’s warriors drawn up in proud and glittering array; and before them, in stark contrast, the savage hagru – a charging mass of hairy monstrous fiends driven by wild bloodlust and other debased passions.

The swarm of howling foemen broke upon the Varian line like waves upon a rugged cliff of granite. The hagru recoiled from the phalanx’s glittering spear points. The savages screamed in pain and fury. A great war cry exploded from the throats of Vari’s men as the hated foe were driven back, then Medron struck his treacherous, unmanly blow.

A violet ray stabbed out and struck the warriors in the back. Men fell as the raging beam swept up and down the line. The savages roared in mad delight. They swept forward like an advancing tide of army ants, and in but moments the flower of Vari’s manhood was buried beneath a frenzied carpet of hairy bodies.

Logan’s mind recoiled from the mad butchery his mind envisaged, and the ugly fate Lyella would face in the hands of those drooling fiends. His mind was in a frenzy of utter torment and the depth of his emotion made him realise he truly loved the girl. Under any other circumstances he would have been elated, but this terrible threat was poised above her like the blackened blade of a diabolical assassin.

With a supreme effort he calmed himself. He saw Medron approaching, the sorcerer having concluded his interrogation of Roog. The Earthman knew he must think rationally. Lyella and all her people now depended on him. Somehow, he had to escape this devilish trap and warn the queen.

“My, my, how did the sorcerer know I was going to spy on him, I hear you ask yourself,” observed Medron with rhetorical mockery. “Simple - your clothes bear the hallmarks of an advanced civilisation. Therefore, I knew you’d know my claims to occult powers are utter nonsense, and possibly investigate the reason why I lied.”

The sorcerer switched off the paralysing ray. Logan collapsed upon the floor. His muscles, which had been held in iron rigidity by the weird energy, were now as weak as water and his feeble struggles and bitter curses were of no avail as Medron swiftly and expertly bound him hand and foot with lengths of cord.

Logan glared impotently at his wily adversary. “So that’s your plot,” he panted, ignoring his foe’s taunting sarcasm. “Befriend the queen whilst planning the conquest of her people; you treacherous bastard.”

Medron laughed derisively as he stood triumphantly over his helpless captive. “Fool. You know nothing,” he spat contemptuously and then jerked off his mask.

Logan gasped. The sorcerer’s visage wasn’t human. The stunned Earthman hadn’t expected this. The creature’s skin was scaled like a serpent’s and bronze in colour. Medron’s nose was a slit, his mouth a lipless gash. Two black reptilian eyes stared hellish hatred at the Earthman – eyes as cold and hard and dark as the ruthless brain that lurked behind them.

“Yes,” admitted Medron, haughtily. “I am a Star God – one who was left behind when my brothers fled. Trapped in the midst of a poisoned wasteland in my subterranean vault, I placed myself in a death-like state to wait the healing of the world. Centuries passed by, but time touched me not while Nature healed the wounds of war upon this globe. I awoke some years ago, but despite all my searching found I was alone – the sole survivor of our ancient culture and all its knowledge, which seems like magic to these contemptible primitives.”

“And now you’re using that knowledge to enslave the hagru just as you plan to enslave all Vari,” accused Logan in an attempt to draw more information from his enemy. “What do you hope to gain, Medron? Those shambling brutes of yours will wreck this city. Do you really want to rule a smoking ruin polluted by their stench?”

Again the sorcerer uttered his mocking laugh. “That won’t happen - my halfwit slaves are merely tools to my ambition,” he shamelessly admitted. “They think I lead them to victory. Oh, how amusing! It is to their destruction that I lead them. I caused the hagru invasion. The Varians are desperate. They need a miracle. I provide them with one and gain their trust and favour.”

“So you’d betray even those who loyally serve you,” muttered Logan. “Your lust for power truly knows no bounds does it?”

“Fool,” Medron sneered. “It’s not just petty power that I’m after. I plan to resurrect my species. There are many machines in the ruined cities that can be repaired – machines that can replicate life itself. Using my body as a template I’ll use these engines to bring my long dead people back to life. But I can’t do this on my own. I need the help of beings more intelligent than a hoard stupid hagru savages.

“Of course I cannot rule Vari directly, but I can be the power behind the throne and use it to further my ambitions. Zuan is more easily manipulated than the queen. He seeks to rule. I have promised to aid him. Thus I will set my feet upon the path to destiny. My species will once again rule this world, and you will help me by killing Lyella. Who knows, perhaps even Earth, as I believe you call your planet, will eventually fall beneath my people’s tread.”

Rage welled up in Logan like hot lava in the throat of a volcano. Angry words trembled on his lips, and it was with considerable difficulty that he held them back. The adventurer realised it wouldn’t serve Lyella, her people, nor Earth to tell the sorcerer to go to Hell. Indeed, bound and helpless, his only hope was to be more devious than his cunning adversary.

Though it irked him to adopt such unmanly measures, Logan sighed and sagged on the floor. “You win, Medron,” he acknowledged, putting every ounce of dejection into his voice and posture that he could. “I know when I’m beaten. Please don’t kill me. I... I’ll do anything you say.”

“I don’t need the threat of death,” sneered the sorcerer, “nor the promise of reward to make you do my bidding. The violet ray not only paralyses,” he smugly explained, “but also has a mesmerising effect when its intensity is increased. With it I’ll suppress your memory of this meeting, and implant within your mind an irresistible urge to kill the queen. She trusts you.” He laughed evilly: “You’ll be the perfect assassin.”

Logan swore violently. He abandoned all pretence at cowering defeat. A hot surge of adrenalin infused his body. His bound feet lashed out like a flicking switchblade. They smashed against Medron’s shins and sent him crashing to the floor. The Earthman rolled towards his enemy, knowing he must kill the fiend. The woman he loved and two worlds depended on it! He struck again. The sorcerer jerked his head aside and Logan’s heel bruised his cheek with a glancing blow.

Medron cursed. He caught the Earthman’s legs, jerked erect and booted Logan in the ribs. Logan gasped in agony as the sorcerer flung him away and lunged for the ray controls. The beam lashed out as the Earthman frantically rolled. The shaft of hissing violet stabbed the floor. Medron swore. He swung the weapon on its pivot and caught Logan in its debilitating glare.

Logan froze. Again, he felt the tingling malefic influence of the ray. But this time there was a difference – one more sinister: he could feel it begin to work upon his mind. The sweat of fear was upon the Earthman’s brow. The light was pushing in upon his mind – squeezing it with unmerciful pressure, crushing it into a tight ball of utter darkness.

He fought against it, screaming inwardly. He was in a sea of violet torment, the hellish light pushing him into black oblivion, beating down his will. In the distance, like rolling thunder, came the voice of Medron – urgent, insistent. Evil words rolled over him, tumbling his mind like the waves of an irresistible sea: KILL THE QUEEN. KILL THE QUEEN. He went on fighting desperately, holding feelings of love for Lyella in his mind like a talisman. Words pressed in upon him with the weight of mountains... Consciousness faded, and he knew no more.

**********

It was noon. Logan was now clad in Varian apparel, and from the vantage point of the hovering Xaru, looked down upon the well formed ranks of the Golden City’s soldiery – twelve thousand men in all. They were drawn up in phalanx formations, each unit consisting of ten warriors in the front row and eight rows behind. The fighters were clad in armour of padded leather reinforced with steel studs, while conical steel helmets adorned with crimson tassels protected their heads.

Their shields, painted with fearsome leering devil-faces, were large and rectangular. Each man overlapped the shield of the warrior on his right to form a solid wall. Their spears, ten feet in length, were grounded at rest, but would soon be thrust aggressively forward in preparation to advance like monstrous porcupines towards the foe.

Deployed on the wings of the formation were light infantry armed with bucklers, swords and javelins that would harass the enemy with swift attacks. The Earthman raised his eyes and saw across the plain, which was several miles from the Golden City’s farmlands, the advancing hagru. The naked lumbering brutes, armed with crude and massive clubs, shambled across the grassland, raising clouds of dust with their bare feet. They came on like a herd of wild beasts. Their strident cries were like the baying of ten thousand mad dogs enraged by bloodlust.

Logan moved to get a better view of the enemy and winced at the pain in his side.

“Are you all right?” asked Lyella who stood next to him. “I noticed at breakfast that you weren’t your usual self.”

The Earthman gazed upon the girl. She was clad in a filmy silver robe that seemed to envelop her lissom form like a sparkling mist. He smiled at her beauty, and at the memory of that hurried but pleasant interlude before war’s grim madness intruded upon them. “I didn’t sleep well, and somehow I’ve got a nasty bruise on my ribs.”

“Perhaps you fell out of bed,” suggested Zuan, sarcastically.

Logan looked sharply at the prince who lounged on a nearby bench. All things considered he’d been surprised to see Zuan onboard. But as Lyella had pointed out they needed to present a united front to the hagru threat, and if she had ordered his removal it would have opened up a breach between her and Baru, his touchy father, whose veteran warriors would be sorely needed in the coming battle. Zuan’s personal guard, however, had been disbanded and replaced by a crew of the sorcerer’s own choosing.

Zuan returned Logan’s scowling stare. The prince wore an amused smirk upon his face – as if he knew a secret that was pleasing to him. The Earthman’s frown deepened. His sleep had been disturbed by formless nightmares – hazy visions that flittered infuriatingly out of memory’s reach. And there was a disturbing gap in his recollection of last night’s events. He recalled his intention to investigate Medron’s room; then... nothing. It was all so terribly strange.

Thoughts of the sorcerer drew Logan’s gaze to the man. Medron stood quietly by his ray generator – an enigmatic figure clad in scarlet. The Earthman eyed him warily. Again, he was struck by a deep feeling of unease. The sorcerer claimed he had pinpointed the timing and location of the hagru attack with his occult arts, and his prediction was now proven accurate beyond a doubt. But even so Logan felt that Medron, despite all the aid he’d given, planned something sinister, but what? Again, shadowy recollections hovered at the edge of memory for a moment; then slipped away when he tried to grasp them.

The Earthman muttered an oath, massaged his furrowed brow and focused his attention on the rapidly advancing foe. It was then that the sorcerer made his surreptitious move – he shone reflected sunlight in Logan’s eyes with a small mirror mounted on a ring.

Logan stiffened as the signal triggered Medron’s posthypnotic command. The Earthman’s fingers moved mechanically to the dagger at his belt. Panic seized him. What the hell was happening? His hand stealthily drew the blade. He fought futilely against the involuntary act, but it was as hopeless as a marionette fighting against its puppeteer. He tried to cry out, to give some warning, but every eye was fixed upon the advancing savages and his lips were frozen to utter silence.

Lyella stood beside him. The dagger in Logan’s hand reared up like a cobra about to strike. The Earthman watched its ascent in helpless horror – it was as if he stood outside himself observing the actions of a stranger. His mind was a storm of racing thoughts – confusion, terror, panic. A memory, stirred up by his racing brain, leapt at him from the chaos – the final scene with Medron the night before. In an instant he realised the terrible sickening truth as the blade began its murderous plunge.

Chapter 6: The Ray of Doom

As the lethal blade began its glittering descent Logan threw every ounce of will against his plunging arm. His limb slowed. It quivered as he wrestled with Medron’s insidious mind manipulation. The Earthman sweated. The hagru drew nearer; a trumpet blared. The Varian phalanxes couched their spears and advanced in bristling formation towards the howling foe.

The dagger inched closer to the unsuspecting queen. Logan screamed inwardly. Fear flogged him with its lash of terror. Sweat was upon his brow. His inner vision drew a horrid picture – his beloved lying before him, the bloody blade buried in her lifeless form, Medron and Zuan laughing cruelly at his inconsolable grief, and Vazu and Earth overrun by the Star God’s horrid spawn.

Incalculable rage exploded in him, leant him Herculean strength. Logan hurled it against the hypnotic power that caged his conscious mind. The Earthman’s hammering will burst the sorcerer’s mental bonds. Logan gasped. The dagger fell from his hand. He collapsed against the queen, groaning and trembling from his inner battle.

“What’s wrong,” cried Lyella as Logan sagged to the planking.

Zuan, who had been eagerly watching the Earthman from the corner of his eye realised the sorcerer’s plan had gone terribly awry. Jealousy and the lust for power had transformed his desire for Lyella to murderous hatred – nothing must stand in his way, and if he couldn’t have her no man would. He had looked forward with evil glee to her death at Logan’s hands, the execution of the Earthman by foul torture as punishment, and his seizing of the coveted throne with the aid of Medron and his magic weapon. But now...

“Medron... Star God... Treachery,” gasped Logan.

“The dirty savage tried to kill the queen,” yelled the prince as he drew his sword and lunged at the Earthman in a desperate bid to silence him forever.

Lyella knocked Zuan’s arm aside. “Let him speak,” she cried.

The prince’s blade stabbed wood not flesh. He cursed the girl. Medron swore. He saw the truth was out and all his cunning plans had come to ruin. The sorcerer swung his weapon, depressed a button. He had to save himself. The violet ray swept across the ship. The queen, Zuan, and all the Xaru’s crew tumbled in helpless heaps upon the planking, and without a helmsman the flying ship began to slowly fall.

Logan, who had ducked the scything beam, cursed. He grabbed the prince’s sword and hurled it at the sorcerer as the paralysing ray swung again towards him. The spinning blade crashed against Medron’s mask. He staggered back. The Earthman dashed at his reeling foe, crashed against him. While both men wrestled, striking savage blows with knees and elbows, the hagru and Varian lines came together in a wild roar of battle cries and clashing weapons.

The savages fell beneath the phalanxes stabbing spears. They howled their mindless fury as they died. Some managed to grasp the thrusting weapons, and with their mighty strength hauled upon them. Hapless warriors were dragged from the lines to be crushed by the foe’s monster clubs. The breaches were swiftly closed by other men. Avenging spears stabbed, buried their razor points in the hairy hides of the enemy.

Onboard the Xaru Medron slammed his elbow against Logan’s chin. The Earthman staggered back. He crashed against the ray generator. Its beam swung down and wildly about, raking the Varian fighters with its debilitating energy. Men fell in droves. The ordered ranks of soldiery suddenly dissolved into helpless chaos.

The hagru roared victoriously. They flung themselves recklessly upon the Varians, swamping them in a tidal wave of unmitigated savagery. Warriors died screaming beneath crushing clubs, others were torn limb from limb by the brutal foe. Disaster loomed in all its gory repulsiveness as the flying ship sank ever closer the milling chaos beneath her keel.

Medron laughed madly at the sight. Logan swore. He lunged for the ray generator in a desperate bid to switch it off. The sorcerer hurled himself upon the Earthman. If he couldn’t have Vari, then he’d bring it to ruin. Both crashed heavily to the deck. Logan cursed, slammed his elbow into Medron's head. The Earthman flung off the stunned sorcerer. He tore the fiend's mask away and hammered his foe’s ugly face with brutal blows.

Medron was tougher than he looked. He slammed his palm beneath Logan’s chin and flung him off. Both men staggered erect. The sorcerer snatched up a guardsman’s sword as Logan stumbled and fell against the gunnels. Medron charged the Earthman, yelling wildly. Logan jerked away from the stabbing blade and his foe lunged heavily against the flying ship’s side.

The Earthman swiftly stooped, grabbed the sorcerer by the ankles. He heaved. Medron screamed shrilly as he was hurled from the ship and to his death. Logan looked away from the last Star God’s sickening end. There was no time to rest. The Xaru was falling, drawing ever closer to the wild foe. He staggered to the ray generator and swung its violet beam upon the swarming hagru.

The savages fell like swatted flies as he frantically raked the hoard of madly howling mutants. The hard pressed Varian’s rallied. They pushed forward into the now astonished enemy. The hagru milled in disarray as their master’s magic was turned against them. Panic began to spread among their ranks as Logan’s stabbing beam continued to mow them down like a reaping scythe of hellish light.

Fear spread like a deadly contagion. The savages broke. They fled – at first a trickle, then a flood. The Varian’s roared their victory cry. The reformed phalanxes rolled over the bodies of the paralysed foe, stomping them to death as they advanced, while the lighter troops pursued the fleeing hagru, speeding them on their way with swiftly flying javelins and leaden shot hurled from whirling slings.

Logan leaned heavily against the gunnels, vastly relieved that he had managed to turn the tide of battle in the Varian’s favour, only to have a sudden scream brutally shatter the elation of his soothing reprieve. The Earthman spun round. He gasped in shock at what he saw. Zuan had recovered from his paralysis. He held a dagger against Lyella’s breast and his other hand was about her throat in a crushing hold. The prince’s expression was wild with all the desperation of a cornered beast.

“Step away from the weapon,” he hissed venomously, “or the whore dies.”

Logan backed away. Zuan laughed cruelly at his evident distress. The Earthman grew grim as the Xaru’s crew, secretly loyal to the prince staggered to their feet.

“Kill him,” screamed the prince in crazed vengeance. And then to the queen: “Watch him die you filthy harlot.”

The warriors charged. Lyella cried. Logan saw their glittering blades, their grim expressions. He knew he’d never reach the Star God’s weapon. Then the ship struck earth in a jarring blow. Zuan and his men, oblivious to the craft’s fall, were hurled violently to the planking. The ray generator toppled, shattered in a spray of sparks.

Logan, who had braced himself in preparation for the impact, dashed towards the prince. Lyella lay unmoving by Zuan’s side. Her robe was rent. Blood flowed from an ugly wound upon her breast. Red rage roared. The Earthman flung himself on Zuan. His fingers closed upon the prince’s throat like a band of iron.

He squeezed. Zuan’s eyes bulged. He tugged frantically at the Earthman’s hands. Logan grinned madly. His fingers tightened with the relentless pressure of a closing vice. Zuan’s warriors struggled up. They dashed to aid their prince. Logan was oblivious to them. All that mattered was to kill the man who had murdered his beloved.

A blade flashed towards the Earthman’s unprotected head. A javelin streaked. It struck the wielder of the sword. He fell away as warriors loyal to the queen leapt across the gunnels and fell with swinging blades upon the charging foe...

“It’s over, Xavier,” said Lyella as she gently tugged the Earthman’s hands free of Zuan’s corpse while the prince’s surviving men knelt in surrender to her faithful warriors.

Logan gradually grew aware of his surroundings as his berserker fury faded under the flow of the girl’s soothing words. He looked at the lifeless body dully, and then at Lyella with growing wonder.

“I fell upon Zuan’s dagger and was knocked senseless for a moment,” explained the girl, who had summoned loyal warriors to defend them.

She wanted to say much more – to tell him in that moment when he was so near to death of how she loved him, of how she had nearly died of fear for him. But even with her hated husband dead there was still the unscaleable barrier of royalty that stood between them. No, it would be intolerably cruel to give Xavier hope when there was none.

Lyella stifled the sob that rose to her lips. “The wound wasn’t as bad as it looked,” she continued in a voice that trembled only slightly. “I’ve already healed the injury with my powers.”

Logan sensed something of the sadness that tore her heart, and its cause. “Don’t despair,” he said softly. “If I can defeat the hagru then think of what else I can accomplish. While we live hope remains.”

**********

Logan, with heavy chains upon his wrists and ankles, sat dejectedly on a bench in the gloomy confines of his prison cell – naked, vulnerable and utterly alone. He had gone from the pinnacle of victory’s joy to the black nadir of despair, for Zuan had had his vengeance from the grave. The evil prince had left a letter to Baru, his father, to be opened if he died, and in it he accused Logan and the queen of every debased passion that could be imagined. Both had been arrested within an hour of the victory celebrations. Oh, how his earlier words of confidence mocked him now!

The sound of marching feet made the Earthman raise his head. His face was as grim as the visage of the leader of the guards who unlocked the cell and ordered him forth.

“The High Council has reached its verdict,” informed the officer. “You are commanded to appear before them to hear their judgement.”

Logan left his prison, his chains clanking as he was marched down the passageway towards the Hall of Justice. By now the Earthman had a better understanding of Varian government. The High Council was constituted of men elected by their peers from among the twelve noble houses that comprised the ruling class, whose vast agricultural estates was their source of wealth. The High Council not only advised the monarch but could also sit in independent judgement on matters pertaining to the governance of the realm.

Although ascent to the throne was hereditary the ruler’s tenure was conditional to the support of the noble houses, each of which had a thousand warriors at its command. But if the queen was impeached by the council that endorsement would quickly be withdrawn.

Naturally, the Earthman was extremely worried, but more for Lyella than himself. Both had spent the entire day being interrogated by the twelve elders that comprised the council. Neither had been represented by anyone resembling a lawyer, and to the Earthman their trial seemed disturbingly like the proceedings of the Inquisition. At least they hadn’t used torture – yet.

It was with this bleak thought foremost in his mind that he entered the Hall of Justice and came before the twelve stone faced elders. Lyella was already present. She was in chains and, like him, had been stripped of all apparel. The girl gave Logan a brave smile – a smile that made him long to take her within the protective circle of his arms, but the impossibility of it – the chains upon his limbs, the heavily armed guards on every side - crushed his heart with black despair.

The clapping of Nardis’ hands - Lyella’s prime minister - drew his troubled gaze. The man, like the other members of the High Council, sat upon one of the gilded throne-like chairs arranged in a row on a high podium. He gazed at the Earthman, his bearded visage stern, unreadable.

“Xavier of Earth,” rumbled Nardis. “The charges brought against you by Zuan are very serious, and are deserving of the harshest punishment... However, your services to the realm are also deserving of the greatest reward, for you have saved all of us from the evil machinations of our ancient enemy - Medron, the last surviving Star God, and his foul cohorts, the hagru. Vari is safe - our scouts report that, leaderless, the remnants of the hoard have fled across the mountain range to their desert homeland.

“After much deliberation we have decided to reward rather than punish you. We shall grant you a fine house and a generous life pension for your services – sufficient funds that will enable you to live comfortably for as long as you wish to stay in Vari. If there is any other thing that you desire, speak now, and if it is within our power we will grant it.”

“You are most generous,” replied Logan sarcastically as a guardsman stepped forward at Nadris’ signal, removed his chains, wrapped a red garment about his hips, and fastened it in place with an ornate broach.

The Earthman was furious at the implication the Council thought he was guilty, but was pardoning him for crimes - crimes he knew he hadn’t committed. Logan managed to reign in his anger. There were more important things to dwell on than his outraged sense of justice:

“What will happen to Lyella?” He asked, worriedly.

A troubled expression came upon Nardis’ face, one reflected in the visages of the other members of the council.

“A queen must be beyond reproach,” he said slowly. “She is the symbol of our culture’s highest values. There can be no hint of scandal surrounding her. Our laws are as hard and inflexible as iron on this matter.”

Nardis sighed heavily. “The punishment we must regrettably inflict is in accordance with our inviolable statutes. Lyella has been stripped of her royal title. She has been reduced to the status of slave, and will be sold at auction to the highest bidder. A new ruler will be chosen by the council from among the noble families.”

Logan gasped. “No,” he cried. “Have I not told you repeatedly that Zuan lied? She is innocent.” He looked at Lyella. The girl gazed straight ahead, accepting her sentence with quiet dignity. Her lips, however, trembled slightly. But who could blame her?

The Earthman turned angrily upon Nardis, but the prime minister stilled his further outbursts with a raised hand.

“Perhaps Zuan did lie,” he conceded. “But he is dead and cannot be questioned, and we cannot afford to assume that he did. None of us want this. Why, all of us have known Lyella since she was a child. But Baru, in his grief and fury at his son’s death, has spread the damning contents of the letter far and wide. Lyella’s reputation has been blackened beyond repair. She cannot remain queen... If only there was some other way... but our laws...”

“Damn your stupid laws,” Logan spat; then calmed himself. Getting angry wouldn’t save his beloved. The Earthman thought quickly. There was one slim chance. He grasped it.

“Listen,” he said desperately. “I will bid for Lyella. All that you have promised me - take it back in exchange for the girl. That is all I ask.”

Lyella gasped. “Xavier,” she cried. “Don’t be a fool. You’re throwing away your future.”

Logan turned to the startled girl. “I love you,” he declared. “How can that be foolish? Nothing these men can offer compares to you. Without you I have discovered I am incomplete.”

Nardis slowly smiled. “No man can outbid love,” he acknowledged, vastly relieved that the Earthman had discovered a means to save the girl and yet fulfil the law. “We shall give Lyella to you as a gift along with all the other things we have promised. A noble soul such as you deserves no less.” Then, with a gesture to the guards: “Strike off her chains, but let her remain nude as all slaves must.”

Logan turned to Lyella as a guard removed the fetters upon her slender wrists and ankles. Again, the Earthman felt the powerful urge to take her in his arms come upon him. He stepped forward eagerly then hesitated, for now her limbs were free she stood before him, head bowed in shame, one hand upon her naked loins, the other arm flung across her breasts.

Logan was no lustful rake. He knew she’d already had one bad experience with a man, and that a wrong move from him might permanently ruin things between them. He stood irresolute, not sure of what to do in such a delicate situation.

Lyella glanced up shyly from beneath her long eyelashes. She saw Logan’s look of yearning love, his hesitation engendered by compassion for the plight of her humiliating slavery. The girl was deeply moved by what she saw. Lyella smiled. There could be no shame in the light of such a love as his, and the girl felt she'd gained far more than what she'd lost. Her arms opened in adoring invitation, and the Earthman stepped joyously within Lyella's passionate embrace. The councillors smiled at one another, then rose as one and quietly left the room.

THE END