Flash Gordon 5 - The Witch Queen of Mongo (10 page)

Ming stared at her in disbelief. His lips moved soundlessly. Then he reached out and took the paper. He read it slowly, moving his lips as he read, and then let it flutter to the tabletop.

His face changed. The rage and hate left it, and a kind of sly excitement possessed it. He paced then, as he always did when excited, and he kept crashing one fist into the other palm as he raced about over the chamber’s carpeted stone floor.

“Yes!” he said. “You’re right. We’ll get him here that way, and it’ll be the end of him. The end.”

Azura smiled and folded the paper carefully.

Ming wheeled suddenly and strode over to Flash where he sat at the table.

“And you,” he yelled, pounding the table madly, “we’ll kill you, too!”

“But,” Flash whispered, “Queen Azura said when Prince Barin came, she’d let me go and let Willie go.”

“Why should we let you go?” Ming asked in great astonishment.

“I want that letter,” Flash said, rising and reaching for Azura’s arm. “I must destroy it.”

Ming smashed Flash’s arm away from Azura. “Get your hands off her!”

Flash cowered, almost falling over backward.

“Don’t hurt me, Ming!” he cried out. “I didn’t do anything bad to you.”

Ming stood back, gazing at Flash with disgust. “I heard you were a man, Gordon. I see a coward. Can’t you fight?”

Azura touched Ming’s arm. “He’s under the influence of pacifist mist,” she told him in a whisper. “I’m keeping him that way so he won’t escape.”

“He couldn’t escape,” sneered Ming. “As a matter of fact, I think you’ve all been lying about Flash Gordon. He hasn’t any guts at all. He won’t even fight. You’ve been joking.”

Azura felt sudden anger. “You fool, he’s only docile because of the drug.”

Ming shook her off. “Come on, Gordon, let’s have some fun. Man to man. A duel? How about a duel?”

Flash stood up and looked at Ming. “What kind?”

“To the death, Gordon!” Ming laughed loudly.

Azura strode forward, grabbing Ming’s arm. “Stop it, you idiot!”

Ming threw her hand off his arm and turned to her, his face dark with rage. “Don’t cross me.”

Azura froze. She realized she was afraid of him, even though his interference might ruin everything.

An expression of contempt flitted across Ming the Second’s features, and he turned from her. “Come on, Gordon. Let’s fight.”

“All right,” Flash said, trying to quell his trembling.

Ming’s eyes darkened in secret triumph.

M
ing was eager to fight. He had always prided himself on his excellent reflexes. Now the excitement of an encounter with the famous Flash Gordon—the man who had become a legendary character in Mongo’s history in his own time—made Ming want to test himself against this giant-sized hero.

He studied his adversary for a brief moment, the curl of his lips giving vent to his inner contempt. Why, this so-called hero was nothing more than a sniveling coward. And even though Azura claimed it was all due to the pacifist mist, there must be a great deal of latent cowardice in a man who would become such an abject poltroon from a dosage of the drug.

The truth, Ming reasoned, probably lay somewhere in between. Quite possibly, the drug was having an effect on Flash Gordon, and quite possibly he had been built up to be more than he was because of the repetition of the legend.

Ming had no false modesty about his own prowess in battle. He was good. And he loved to feel the strength of his muscles in conflict against those of a contender. He loved to test his reflexes against those of any opponent.

“We’ll fight!” he cried gleefully when Flash finally agreed. Ming spun on his heel and stalked across the floor to a large trophy case hanging on a wall of the queen’s chambers.

“Ming!” Azura cried in dismay.

He ignored her. Reaching up, he opened the glass case and lifted down one of the two heavily decorated swords hanging in the case. He turned and laughed at Flash.

“Gordon,” he said, “I’m ready when you are.”

Flash’s face paled. “I—I don’t think I’d like to fight. I don’t feel well.”

“You feel as well as you’re going to feel around here, Gordon,” snapped Ming, advancing toward him with the sword extended. “Here, take it or I’ll push the blade through your gizzard.”

Flash rose unsteadily and reached out to take the sword.

Ming thrust it at him, watching his eyes. Flash took the sword by the hilt and held it in his hand, his eyes fearfully focused on Ming’s face.

Laughing, Ming strode back to the trophy case and took out the second of the pair of beautifully jeweled dueling swords from a long-past historical era on Mongo.

He stood with the sword in position and studied Flash carefully. “So this is the legend,” he muttered sardonically. “The fearless champion of the people, the indestructible enemy of the Emperor Ming, my father.”

Flash wiped the perspiration from his forehead.

“Hah!” snapped Ming. “I believe I can do what all my father’s armies could not.
En garde,
Gordon,” he called.

“Ming!” cried Azura, running over and grabbing Ming’s right arm. “Stop it. He is drugged, and we still need him.”

Ming turned to the beautiful queen and arched a brow sarcastically. “Never fear, Azura. There will be life left in him when I have finished. Some life, that is.” Ming threw back his head and roared with derision.

“No,” Azura responded in annoyance. “Leave him alone.”

“Come on, Gordon,” snarled Ming, pushing Azura aside and moving toward Flash with his sword out in front of him. “You have been said to have crossed foils with a dozen men at once. Show me some of your prowess.”

“There is no fight left in him,” Azura warned him.

“Even a cowardly mouse will fight to escape.”

With that, Ming lunged toward Flash, thrusting his sword toward the Earthman’s naked chest.

“No—no!” screamed Flash. “Don’t!” He staggered backward away from Ming’s sword and cowered against one of the pillars that supported the ceiling of the queen’s chambers.

Ming threw back his head and roared.

“I—I don’t want to fight,” whimpered Flash, standing behind the pillar and peering around it at Ming. “I don’t want to die.”

“Look at him,” Ming growled happily. “The mighty Flash Gordon. He whines like a woman, like the woman Azura.”

“Ming, I’m warning you,” snapped Azura, hovering in the shadows and frowning darkly.

“I wonder how he will sound when he’s felt the sting of my sword?” cried Ming, and made a harsh feint at Flash with his sword.

Flash fell back into the shadows behind the pillar and Ming burst out laughing again.

“Ming,” Azura said in a hushed voice, running up and standing beside him. “It is the drug, not your sword or your prowess, that makes Flash run.”

Ming grabbed her shoulder and squeezed it tightly until she winced. “All the better, fair Azura. Then his torment is to your credit.”

Azura threw off his hand and pulled away from him, giving him a bleak scowl as she kneaded her shoulder where he had touched her. “You’ve hurt me, you big lout.”

Ming leaned down and stared into her face. “Does a small spot of an old affection spoil your pleasure, my beloved?”

“Pleasure?” Azura’s eyes flashed.

“Your ancient love affair with the Earthman, dearest Azura,” Ming said sardonically. “One would almost believe you still had a soft spot in your heart for him, even as he cowers in the shadows!”

Ming’s voice dripped with contempt.

Azura straightened. “What’s between Flash Gordon and me is none of your business at all, my love. If I hear one more word about it, I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” Ming turned to her.

Azura faced him, her lips flat and grim. “There is no pleasure for me in watching my noble emperor-to-be prove his clumsy stupid cowardice,” she snapped. “Even in his terror, Flash Gordon is your match any day of the week.”

Ming stared. It was obvious that Azura was not teasing him; she meant every word of it.

Ming’s neck muscles tightened. His heart beat faster. He could feel his muscles knot up. The sword moved uneasily in his hand.

“Azura,” he said in a low tone, “you always have the ability to stir me—one way or another. Now you stir me to rage and I’ll have Gordon’s blood for that.”

“You fool,” shouted Azura. “If you hurt him—”

Her fingernails ripped at his naked shoulder, and the pain shot through him. He saw red. Whipping around, he grasped her by the neck and threw her from him, so he could go after Flash.

Azura was cursing as she lay on the floor, her cape soiled and torn by the force of her fall.

“So!” yelled Ming, waving the sword and running toward the pillar where Flash skulked in the shadows. “My queen challenges me to test your valor, Flash Gordon.
En garde,
Earthman.
En garde!”

He could see the form of Flash Gordon in the darkness behind the pillar and he lunged toward the muscular body, but even as he struck the portion of shadow where he thought Flash was he realized that the Earthman had tricked him. Staggering, Ming stopped his headlong lunge and turned around.

There he was, damn him, running up the stairs at the end of the queen’s chamber—up to her bedroom!

“Try to run from me, will you?” bellowed Ming. He took out after Flash, waving his sword.

“Stop it, you two!” wailed Azura, on her feet now, and trying to restore order.

“Too late, my dearest one,” shouted Ming, starting up the steps after Flash.

Flash turned and saw Ming pursuing him. With a frightened little cry, he gripped his own sword and waited for the big athletic fighter to come up the stairs two at a time, waving his weapon.

“Prepare to die, Earthling!” yelled Ming.

Instead of dying, Flash suddenly leaped up onto the marble banister of the winding stairs, and slid quickly down past Ming, who swung his sword ineffectually at him as he hurtled on past.

Ming waved the weapon above his head again. “You’re an impudent wretch,” he said softly, his face suddenly red with rage. “I’ll get you. If that’s the kind of cat-and-mouse game you want to play, I can play it too.”

He ran down the steps after Flash, who had jumped to the stone floor, and was now running across it toward the draperies that concealed one wall near the stairs.

Azura was in a frenzy. “Stop it, stop it!” she screeched. “Qilp, will you stop them?”

Qilp, who had been watching the action from behind the protection of a large chair, giggled. “Not me.”

Azura ran toward Ming, intercepting him as he went after Flash Gordon.

He looked down at her, standing defiantly in front of him. Something in her demeanor warned him and he paused, but his wariness of her did not prevent a sardonic smile from crossing his lips.

“Well, good Queen Azura,” he grated out. “What is it this time?”

“You’re making a silly ass out of yourself,” Azura said angrily.

Ming felt the hackles on the back of his neck stiffen. “Nobody calls me a silly ass, my lovely queen, not even you!”

“I call a silly ass a silly ass,” retorted Azura. “Now pack up that sword and get out of here. I’ve got work to do.”

“So have I, woman,” said Ming, reaching out to push her aside.

“Important work, you blundering idiot,” cried Queen Azura. “I intend to bring Prince Barin here and conquer the planet of Mongo once and for all. Are you such a dolt that you can’t see how?”

Ming stared past the beautiful woman’s shoulders at Flash Gordon, standing there like some kind of drained puppet, and the rage and envy and hatred in him welled up and distorted his vision.

“Our of my way, you slattern!” he roared, and moved past her, shouldering her roughly aside.

She stared after him, her eyes black with hate.

“Ming—” She caught herself. “Oh, what’s the use?” she asked herself, and shook her head briefly, before folding her arms across her breast and watching him.

He ran swiftly toward Flash Gordon, poised and ready to place the sword’s point in the Earthman’s heart. Flash did nothing to protect himself. In fact, he had dropped his sword to the floor and now stood there waiting for the attack with shaking knees.

“Touché!”
shouted Ming, and thrust directly into Flash’s heart.

But as he did so, Flash Gordon’s heart was no longer there.

Ming stumbled forward and almost went down on all fours before he could bring himself upright and wheel to find out where Flash Gordon had gone.

“Damn you,” he screamed.

Flash had grabbed onto the hanging drapery and was already climbing high above the surface of the floor, looking back over his shoulder in fright.

Ming ran over, waving his sword, and cursing because he could not reach the Earthman with it.

“Damn you, you circus clown!” yelled Ming. “Come on down and fight like a man.”

Azura was shaking her head grimly. “Oh, bravo, Ming! Triple bravo! I am amused, but it is not Flash Gordon who plays the buffoon.”

Ming ran to the drapery and tried to climb with one hand. He slipped and fell. His sword fell. He rose, picking up the sword, and gazed upward at Flash Gordon who clung in the middle of the drapery twenty feet above him, looking down like some kind of taunting rhesus monkey.

Ming gripped the sword, looked up at Flash, and said, “Try to make a fool out of me, will you?”

And Ming ran up the winding stairs which ended at the top of the drapes. Flash watched him fearfully. He looked down and saw the twenty-foot drop, and his face turned white. Then he looked at Ming quickly mounting the stairway, and his teeth began chattering.

“Try to run, will you!” Ming yelled, moving closer to Flash as he clung to the drape. “Cringing clown!”

Ming leaped three steps to the top and leaned out over the banister, slashing his sword at the drapery just above Flash’s head.

“No!” shouted Azura from where she stood watching.

The drapes began to part where Ming’s sharp sword had severed the material.

“You can’t hide from me forever!” shouted Ming, cutting the drapes again.

The last thread that held them together parted, and Flash screamed.

“No! I’m going to fall!”