The planet of peril
He felt both wonder at, and admiration for the skill of the ancient
craftsmen who had wrought so cunningly. Armed with sword, ax and club,
he set out to explore the subterranean passageway, walking between the
two rows of pillars that were guarded by the silent sentinels of a
vanished race, and flashing his light in a semicircle before him.
As he passed along, he noticed that the stone walls on both sides of
him were carved at intervals with scenes and hieroglyphics. The scenes,
for the most part, represented men attired in armor such as he wore,
battling with sabits. He noticed, also, that in nearly every instance,
the figures were pictured as striking the sabits between the eyes with
spiked clubs, although a few used axes, and one was represented as
severing a soldier sabit's head from its body with a broadsword.
One scene that particularly interested him depicted a group of Albines
in the act of capturing a queen sabit while their comrades fought off
her guards. They were fastening huge manacles on her neck and legs
while she struggled desperately.
It seemed that he had walked for more than a mile along the corridor,
and passed several thousand armored figures, when he arrived at a
great circular chamber that, for elegance and richness of decoration,
surpassed anything he had ever seen.
From the base of the walls to the peak of the domelike ceiling, it was
a mass of grotesque bas-reliefs and mural paintings in bright pigments,
while gracefully sculptured statues of men and women occupied niches
set at intervals of about fifteen feet all about the room. The floor
was of varicolored blocks of clearest crystal, fitted together so
skillfully that they presented a surface as smooth as that of a mirror,
while forming beautiful tesselated patterns of exquisite design.
When he turned his light on the floor it sent forth a myriad
reflections that lit up the entire room. He was amazed by this
phenomenon until he discovered that the base of each block had been cut
and silvered so each beam of light was multiplied a thousandfold.
* * * * *
In the center of the room a fountain babbled musically, evidently fed
by an artesian well, for it could not otherwise have continued in
operation for hundreds of years without attention. As he walked toward
the fountain he saw a round bulk, which he had at first mistaken for a
shadow, suddenly leap back and then scamper for a broad doorway at the
left.
The thing had short legs armed with huge claws that rattled on the
polished floor, and a barrel-shaped body covered with tiny, fishlike
scales. It had been drinking at the fountain when frightened by the
sudden appearance of man and light. Grandon recognized it as one of
those large, burrowing rodents which the omnivorous sabits prized so
highly as an article of food.
Several times he had seen them feeding on fungi and grasses in the
woods, and the thought came that if this creature were herbivorous it
must needs have access to the outer world to live, consequently there
must undoubtedly be a means of egress near by which he himself could
use, for where so thick-bodied a rodent could go, he could easily
follow.
He entered the doorway in quick pursuit and found himself in a
passageway similar to the one he had just vacated. The circular chamber
was evidently a sort of hub from which these passageways radiated as
spokes in all directions.
The rodent had disappeared, but its trail was not hard to follow, for
it had left thousands of muddy footprints during its many excursions
to the fountain. The trail terminated at a gaping black hole in the
wall where a portion of the sculptured stone had broken away. Drawing
his sword and pointing the light before him, he entered the dark,
winding burrow, crawling on knees and elbows. It led upward in a
slanting, irregular spiral which he thought would never come to an end.
There were many cross burrows and chambers, in one of which he saw an
abandoned nest, but he kept to the upward path, breathing as lightly as
possible because of the sickening musklike stench of the rodents.
At length the welcome scent of fresh air came to his nostrils and
he emerged from the burrow at the base of a huge tree. He shut off
his light and, standing erect, inhaled breath after breath of the
invigorating night air.
As he paused there in the darkness, Grandon fancied he heard the
distant murmur of human voices. He listened intently for a moment, then
clambered up on a large surface root. Several hundred yards distant he
saw two torches flickering before the gateway of a circular wall about
ten feet high which surrounded a tall, conical structure.
Leaping down from the root he approached the place cautiously, keeping
under cover as much as possible. As he drew nearer the sounds grew
more plain, and he could distinguish the voices of men raised in
altercation. He also heard the sound of blows, and thought he detected
the faint cry of a woman.
The torch-lit gateway was guarded by two powerful soldier sabits with
brown forceps, so he circled, keeping well out of sight, and brought
up at the base of the wall at a point that was not visible from the
gate. He leaped, hooked his fingers over the edge of the wall, and drew
himself up on its broad top. Then flattening his body on its surface,
he peered cautiously within.
* * * * *
The space inside the wall was illuminated by four torches, the
sharpened butts of which had been driven in the ground. Some twenty-odd
slaves, all big strapping fellows, were ranged in an irregular circle
about two of their comrades who were engaged in primitive combat. They
alternately clawed, bit and struck at each other, bellowing the while
like angry bulls.
Beneath one of the torches lay two other hairy men, stone dead; one
with his throat torn out and the other with his head twisted and bent
back in such a fashion as to indicate a broken neck.
Suddenly the taller of the two combatants leaped forward and locked
his arms about the head of the other, bearing him to the ground. Just
as they struck the earth he whirled, twisting the tightly gripped
head--there was a sickening snap, and the duel was ended.
The big fellow arose, panting heavily from his exertions, and faced the
others.
"You have seen the fate of those three fools," he growled. "Are there
any others who would match their strength with Tholto for this slave
woman?"
There was no response. Evidently his comrades were convinced of
Tholto's prowess.
"Bring me the woman, Oro," continued the victor. "Many precious moments
have I wasted in silencing these braggarts."
A great, hairy man, larger even than Tholto and superbly muscled,
went into a low door at his back, and emerged a moment later dragging
the half fainted Vernia by the wrist. He pushed her toward Tholto,
who seized her roughly and drew her to his side. There was a look of
infinite horror in the eyes of the girl as she struggled desperately
for release. A songbird might escape as easily from the jaws of a
serpent.
The slaves were startled by a clanking noise behind them, and upon
looking around beheld that which filled them with superstitious
awe--a man clad from head to foot in brown armor on which many jewels
glistened, his terrifying appearance enhanced by a spine-crested helmet
in which two emerald eyes sparkled, and by the businesslike weapons
that dangled from his belt.
Straight for the startled Tholto he rushed, and there were none to
block his path, for though no living marsh-man had ever seen an Albine,
they had been described in detail to all through the familiar legends
which held them to be a race of supermen; for were not the sabits
mightier than the marsh-men, and were not the Albines immeasurably more
mighty than the sabits?
"Release the girl," said a clear, commanding voice from the depths of
the helmet.
Tholto, though startled, was apparently unafraid.
"She belongs to me," he replied. "I will not release her, nor lives
there man or demon who can force me to do so."
"Release the girl or take the consequences, slave! I would not harm
you, for your actions are only what might be expected of one with your
intelligence and training."
For answer Tholto laughed a low, snarling laugh.
His mirth was suddenly cut short by the impact of a mailed fist with
the point of his jaw. A look of surprise came to his face, his arms
dropped, his knees sagged, and he sank limply to the ground.
Vernia reeled, and would have fallen had not Grandon caught her in his
arms. He raised his visor and, looking into the melting depths of twin
pools of flame, saw the soul of a woman.
"How I wished that you would come," she whispered, her arms about his
neck, her upturned face so close that the fragrance of her breath
intoxicated him, "wished without hope."
For answer he bent low over the yielding, tremulous lips to take that
tribute a woman gladly gives to the man who has stormed the portals of
her heart and won. But their moment of rapture was rudely broken into
by a shout from one of the slaves.
"The sabits! Run for your lives! The sabits come!"
Grandon wheeled and beheld two soldier sabits rushing toward them. The
slaves scattered, diving into the various doorways at the base of the
conelike structure. He pushed the girl into one of these and, lowering
his visor, tore the heavy spiked club from his belt and awaited the
onslaught.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE REVOLT.
As the first soldier sabit opened its huge forceps to encircle
Grandon's waist, he raised his spiked club and crashed it down with all
his might between the two enormous eyes. His tactics were derived from
the pictures he had seen of Albines battling with sabits, and he staked
his hopes on the belief that what an Albine could do he could do also.
The creature paused, its head drooped, and it began walking aimlessly
in a circle. Not so its mate, however, which leaped forward and swept
Grandon from his feet before he could swing the club a second time.
It shook him and crunched him with its powerful mandibles, but the
armor-plates held, and though giddy from the shaking, he was unhurt.
Grandon lost his spiked club, but his sword and ax remained in his
belt. He drew the latter and struck at the creature's foreleg. To his
surprise the weapon severed it completely. Where an ax of steel would
have failed to make an impression, the razorlike edge of this marvelous
metal cut cleanly and with comparative ease. Though the ax-head, like
the club, was weighted with a ball of black metal, probably lead, the
blade itself as well as the handle were of the wondrously hard brown
metal.
Encouraged by his success with the ax, Grandon hacked desperately at
the ugly head. At length the powerful forceps released their grip and
the sabit followed the staggering tactics of its companion, walking
about on its five good legs and moving the stump of the sixth as though
the member were still there.
The Earth-man rose to his feet and struck off the heads of the two
creatures with his ax. To his surprise and horror, the bodies continued
their purposeless wandering!
Vernia came forth from the hut as he was recovering his club, and one
by one the marsh-men appeared from their hiding places. Astonishment
and awe were plainly written on their faces. They seemed ready to
fall down and worship the hero who had, single-handed, overcome two
ferocious soldier sabits.
Tholto, who had lain like a log where Grandon felled him, now sat up
and gazed on the proceedings in blank amazement, tenderly feeling his