Authors: George England
To be returning, master and lord of a race of long-buried people, his
own people, after all—to be acknowledged chieftain—to hold their
destinies within his hand for good or evil—the magnitude of the
situation, the tremendous difficulties and responsibilities, almost
overwhelmed him.
He felt a need to rest, and think, and plan, to recuperate from the
long journey and to recover poise and strength.
And with relief, as he raised his hand for silence, he perceived the
wrinkled face of one Vreenya, head councillor of Kamrou, his
predecessor.
Him he summoned to come close, and to him gave his orders. With some
degree of fluency—for in the months Beatrice and he had spent in the
Abyss they had acquired much of the Merucaan tongue—he said:
"I greet you, Vreenya. I greet my people, all. Harken. I have made a
long journey to return to you. I am tired and would rest. There be
many things to tell you, but not now. I would sleep and eat. Is my
house in readiness?"
"It is in readiness—the house of the Kromno. Your word is our law.
It shall be as you have spoken."
"That is good. Now it is my will that this air-boat on which I ride
should be carried close up to the walls and carefully covered with
mantles, especially this part," and he gestured at the engines. "After
that I rest."
"So it shall be," Vreenya made answer, while the Folk listened. "But,
master, where is the woman? Where is the ancient man, J'hungaav, who
sailed with you in the air-boat to those upper regions we know not
of?"
"The woman is well. She awaits in a place we have prepared for you."
"It is well. And the ancient man?"
Stern thought quickly. To confess the patriarch's death would
certainly be fatal to the undertaking. These simple minds would judge
from it that certain destruction must be the portion of any who should
dare venture into those mysterious upper regions which to them were
but a myth, a strange tradition—almost a terror.
And though the truth was dear to him, yet under stress of the greater
good he uttered falsehood by implication.
"The ancient man awaits you, too. He is resting in the far places. He
would desire you to come to him."
"He is at peace? He found the upper world good?"
"He found it good, Vreenya. And he is at peace."
"It is well. Now the commands of Tai Kromno shall be done. His house
is ready!"
While Stern clambered out of the machine and stretched his
half-paralyzed limbs, the news ran, a murmur of many voices, through
the massed Folk. Stern's heart swelled with pride at the success so
far of his mission. If all should go as well from now on, his mighty
object could and would be accomplished. But if not—
He shuddered slightly despite himself, for to his mind arose the
ever-present possibility of the Folk's custom of trial by combat—the
chance that some rebellious one might challenge him—that the outcome
might another time turn against him.
He remembered still the scream of Kamrou as the deposed chieftain had
plunged into the boiling pool. What if this fate should some time yet
be
his?
And once more thoughts of Beatrice obtruded; and, despite
himself, he felt the clutch of terror at his heart.
He put it resolutely away, however, for he realized that all depended
now on maintaining good courage and a bold, commanding air. The
slightest weakness might at any time prove fatal.
He understood enough of the barbarian psychology to know the value of
dominance. And with a command to Vreenya: "Make way for me, your
master!" he advanced through the lane which the crowding Folk made for
him.
As, followed by the councillor and the elders, he climbed the slippery
causeway and passed through the labyrinthine passes of the great gate,
strange emotions stirred him.
The scene was still the same as when he first had witnessed it. Still
flared the torches in the hands of the populace and along the walls,
where, perched on the very ledge of the one-time battle with the
Lanskaarn, the strange waterfowl still blinked their ghostly eyes.
No change was to be witnessed in the enclosure, the huts, the wide
plaza, stretching away to the cliff, to the fire-pit, and the Dungeon
of Skeletons. But still how different was it all!
Only too clearly he remembered the first time he and Beatrice had been
thrust into this weird community, bound and captive; with only too
vivid distinctness he recalled the frightful indignities, perils and
hardships inflicted on them.
The absence of the kindly patriarch saddened him; and, too, the fact
that now no Beatrice was with him there.
Slowly, wearily, he moved along the slippery rock-floor toward his
waiting house, unutterably lonesome even in this pushing throng that
now acclaimed him, yet thanking God that the girl, at least, was far
from the buried town of such hard ways and latent perils.
At the door of the round, conical stone hut that had been Kamrou's and
now was his—so long as he could hold the chieftainship by sheer force
of will and power—he paused a moment and faced the eager throng.
"Peace to you, my people!" he exclaimed, once more raising his hand on
high. "Soon I shall tell you many wonders and things strange to
hear—many things of great import and good tidings.
"When I have slept I shall speak with you. Now I go to rest. Await me,
for the day of your deliverance is at hand!"
A face caught his attention, a sinister and, brutal face, doubly
ominous in the flaring cresset-glare. He knew the man—H'yemba, the
cunning ironsmith, one who in other days had before now crossed his
will and, dog-like, snarled as much as he had dared. Now a peculiarly
malevolent expression lay upon the evil countenance. The dead-white
skin wrinkled evilly; the pink eyes gleamed with disconcerting malice.
But Stern, dead tired, only glanced at H'yemba for a second, then with
Vreenya entered the hut and bade the door be closed.
All dressed as he was, he flung himself upon the rude bed of seaweed
covered with the coarse brown stuff woven by the Folk.
"Sleep, master," Vreenya said. "I will sit here and watch. But before
you sleep loosen the terrible fire-bow that shoots the bolts of lead
and lay it near at hand."
"You mean—there may be trouble here?"
"Sleep!" was all the councillor would answer. "When you have rested
there will be many things to ask and tell."
Spent beyond the power of any further effort, Stern laid his automatic
handy and disposed himself to rest.
As his weary eyelids closed and the first outposts of consciousness
began to fall before the attacking power of slumber, his thoughts, his
love, his enduring passion, reverted to the girl, the wife, now so
infinitely far away in the cavern beside the brawling canyon-stream.
Yearning and tenderness unspeakable flooded his soul.
But once or twice her face faded from his mental vision and in its
stead he seemed to see again the surly stare, the evil eyes, and
venomously sinister expression of H'yemba, the resourceful man of fire
and of steel.
After many hours of profound and dreamless sleep, Allan awoke
filled with fresh vigor for the tasks that lay ahead. His splendid
vitality, quickly recuperating, calmed his mind; and now the problems,
the anxieties and fears of the day before—to call it such, though
there was neither night nor day in this strange place—seemed
negligible.
Only a certain haunting uneasiness about the girl still clung to him.
But, sending her many a thought of love, he reflected that soon he
should be back again with her; and so, resolutely grasping the labor
that now awaited him, he felt fresh confidence and hope.
After a breakfast of the familiar sea-weeds, bulbs, fish and eggs, he
bade Vreenya (who seemed devotion incarnate) summon the folk for a
great charweg, or tribal council, at the Place of Skeletons.
Here they gathered, men, women and children, all of fifteen hundred,
in close-packed, silent masses, leaving only the inner circle under
the stone posts and iron rods clear for Allan and for Vreenya and some
half-dozen elders.
The rocky plaza-floor sloping upward somewhat from the dungeon, formed
a very shallow natural amphitheater, so that the majority could see as
well as hear.
No platform was there for their Kromno to speak from. He had not
even a block of stone. In the true native style he was expected to
address them on their own level, pacing back and forth the while.
In his early days among them he had seen one or two such gatherings.
His quick wit prompted a close imitation of their ceremonies and
ancient customs.
First, Vreenya sprinkled the open space between the poles and the
dungeon with a kind of sea-weed swab dipped in the waters of the
boiling vat, then with a bit of the coarse brown cloth washed Allan's
lips—a pledge of truth.
The councillor raised both hands toward the roaring flame back there
by the cliff, and all inclined themselves thereto, the only trace of
any religious ceremony still remaining among them.
Allan likewise saluted the flame; then he faced the multitude.
"O my people," he began, striving to speak clearly above the noise of
the fire-jet, his voice sounding dull and heavy in that compressed
atmosphere, "O Folk of the Merucaans, I greet you! There be many
things to tell that you must know and believe. I have come back to you
with great peril in my flying-boat to tell you of the upper world and
all its goodness.
"Easily could I have stayed in those places of light and plenty, but
my heart was warm for my people. I thought of my people night and day.
The woman Beatrice thought of you. The ancient man thought of you.
Alone, we could not enjoy those happy places. So I returned to tell
you and to show you the way to liberty. Thus have we proved our love
for you, my folk!"
He paused. Silence overhung the assemblage save for the fretful cry of
children here and there, squeezed in the press or clinging to their
mothers' backs after the fashion of the Merucaans.
Afar, on the walls, the faint and raucous quarreling of the sea-birds
drifted through the fog. Allan drew breath and began again:
"In those places, my people, those far places whence your forefathers
came, are many wonders. Betimes it is dark, as always here. Betimes a
great fire mounts into the upper air and make the whole world brighter
than around your flaming well. In the dark time lesser fires travel in
the air. Of birds there are many kinds, strangely colored. Of beasts,
many kinds—I cannot make you understand because none of you have ever
seen any animal but fish and bird. But I speak truth. There be many
other creatures with good flesh to eat, and the skins of them are
proper for soft clothing.
"Here you have only weeds of the sea. There we have tall growing
things, many hundred spedi high, and rich fruit, delicious to the
taste, grows on some kinds. In a few words, it is a place of wondrous
plenty, where you can all live more easily than here, and with more
pleasure—far—"
Again he ceased his discourse, but still continued to pace up and down
the open space under the swaying skeletons on the poles above.
Through the dense press of the Folk murmurs were wandering. Man spoke
to man, and many a new thought was coming now to birth among those
white barbarians.
The elders, too, were whispering together: "So runs the ancient
tradition. So said the ancient man! Can it be true, indeed?"
Stern continued, more and more earnestly, with the sweat now beginning
to dot his brow:
"It were too long, my people, to tell you everything about that land
of ours above. Only remember it is richer far and far more beautiful
than this, your place of darkness and of clouds. It is the ancient
home of your fathers in the very long ago. It is waiting for you once
again, more fertile and more beautiful than ever.
"My errand is to carry you thither—two or three at a time. At last I
shall be able to take you all.
"Then the world will begin to be as it once was, before the great
explosion destroyed all but a few of your people, who were my people
once. Will any of you—any two bold men—believe my words and go with
me? Will any be as brave as—the patriarch?"
He flung the veiled taunt loudly at them, with a raising of both arms.
"I have spoken truth! Now answer!"
He ceased, and for a short minute there was silence. Then spoke
Vreenya:
"O Kromno, master! We would question you!"
"I will answer and say only the thing that is."
"First, can our people live in that other, lighter air?"
"They can live. We have prepared caves for you. At first you shall not
see the light. Only little by little you shall see it, and you and
your children will change, till at last you shall be as I am and as
your people were in the old days!"
Vreenya pondered, while tense interest held the elders and the Folk.
Then he nodded, for his understanding—like that of all—was keen in
spite of his savagery.
"And we can eat, O Kromno? This flesh off beasts you speak of may be
good. This strange fruit may be good. I know not. It may also be as
the poison weeds of our sea to us. But, if so, there are fish in those
waters of the upper world?"
"There are fish, Vreenya, and of the best, and many! Near the caves
runs a river—"
"A what, master?"
"A going of the waters. In those waters live fish without number. At
the dark times you can catch them with nets, even as here. The dark
times are half of each day. You shall have many hours for the fishing.
Even that will suffice to live; but the flesh and fruits will not hurt
you. They are good. There will be food for all, and far more than
enough for all!"
Vreenya pondered again.
"We would talk together, we elders," he said, simply.