The planet of peril
and she sought to repress the tremor in her voice as she asked:
"Would you be willing, Marsa, to do a favor for Grandon of Terra, the
savior of Uxpo, if the opportunity offered?"
"I would willingly risk my life for him, even as he has risked his for
my beloved country," replied Marsa fervently.
"And would you be averse to performing the task if it favored me as
well?"
The brow of Marsa clouded.
"You have always been the most bitter enemy of Uxpo," she answered,
with a touch of her former surliness. "My husband was slain by your
father's soldiers and I was enslaved by them. You, in turn, twice
led your armies into Uxpo for conquest and pillage. You ordered the
execution of our valiant King Lugi and sent Prince Thaddor himself to
wear his life away in the marble quarries. A favor to you could not
possibly be a favor to the King of Uxpo."
She took up the tray and turned to go.
"One moment, Marsa," entreated Vernia. "There is reason and justice in
what you say, nevertheless, I am sure I can convince you, if you will
listen to my story, that you will favor Grandon of Terra by assisting
me."
Marsa paused for a moment undecided. At length she said:
"I must go now, but I will return presently. There can be no harm in
listening."
"Return as soon as possible," replied Vernia as the slave inserted the
key in the lock, "or you may be too late."
Vernia awaited the return of Marsa with considerable anxiety. "What if
she should decide not to return after all?" she thought. "Or if she
should tell Prince Destho?"
The dreary minutes dragged into hours, and hope was fast fading when
footsteps sounded in the corridor and a key rattled in the lock.
Vernia rose and moved toward the door with hope renewed--then paused
in alarm--for the doorway framed the burly figure of Zueppa. To her
surprise, he bowed low with right hand extended palm-downward, then
paused respectfully, waiting for her to speak.
"What spirit of irony brings you to make mock-obeisance at this
unseemly hour?" asked Vernia.
"I come not in irony, your majesty," replied Zueppa, "but in all
humility to crave forgiveness for the great wrong I have done my
sovereign, and to offer my services."
"You could not choose a more fitting time for such an offer, and if
it be genuine, for full forgiveness and perhaps an additional reward,
should it be merited."
* * * * *
Zueppa softly closed the door.
"I betray a secret that would forfeit my life if divulged in this
castle, when I tell you that I am in sympathy with Uxpo. Though my
father was a Reabonian noble, my mother was from Uxpo, and it was with
her and with her country that my sympathies always lay. One in this
castle who is loyal to Uxpo has enlisted me in your cause. When you
were my country's most bitter enemy, I plotted your downfall. My fellow
conspirator, Prince Destho, has become even a worse enemy to Uxpo
than you were, and now that the conditions are reversed I am willing
to change my position for a royal promise--the sole conditions to be,
first, a proclamation freeing my downtrodden countrymen, and second, a
pardon for myself."
"I have already promised another to free Uxpo," replied Vernia, "and I
willingly add to it the promise of complete and unconditional pardon
for you if you can do one of two things--either arrange my escape to
Reabon before my year is up, or immediately send a message to Grandon
of Terra, in order that he may come to my rescue."
"I had already thought of the former plan," said Zueppa, "and made
some preparations for it. I will leave now and send Marsa to you with
clothing in which you will pass for a castle slave. When all is quiet
I will return and conduct you through a secret passageway to a place
outside the castle where I keep a swift motor vehicle. We will thus be
able to reach the capital by morning."
"And Tholto, the marsh-man. I would have him released also," said
Vernia.
"Too late," replied Zueppa. "Tholto escaped from our guards as they
were bringing him to the castle. No doubt he is back in his native
haunts by now."
As he bowed low and departed, hope rose in the bosom of Vernia, though
her heart beat wildly at thought of the adventure before her.
After Zueppa closed and carefully locked the door of her chamber, he
made straight for the quarters of the slaves, but his way was blocked
by a castle guard before he had gone a dozen steps.
"Out of my way, fellow," he roared, expecting cringing obedience.
The soldier met his frown calmly.
"His Highness, Prince Destho, commands your immediate presence in the
audience chamber," he said.
Zueppa turned, without a word, and followed the guard. "It is the end,"
he thought. "Our plot has been discovered." In spite of his misgiving,
however, he proceeded serenely to the foot of the throne and made
obeisance. To his surprise, Destho received him kindly, even cordially,
descending from the dais to take him by the hand. His first words
allayed all suspicion.
* * * * *
"Come, let us walk in the garden, my faithful commander," he said. "I
would confer with you about our plans for the recapture of Uxpo. The
stuffy air of the castle fogs my brain."
"I should be happy to learn," said Zueppa, after they stepped into
the garden, "that your highness favorably considers my admonition to
abandon the reconquest of Uxpo until established firmly on the throne.
Much can happen in a short time, and it is possible--"
His words ended in a gasp of pain. Moaning feebly, he slumped to the
ground, as a sharp dagger sank to the hilt in his back. Destho had
been walking slightly behind him, waiting for a favorable opportunity
to strike. He tore the weapon from the wound with a vicious twist and
calmly wiped it on the clothing of the prostrate man.
"Thus should all traitors die," he snarled. "I have been lenient with
you, after all, for you are a double traitor: first to your princess,
then to me."
He spurned the stricken man with his foot so that he rolled half over
and bloody bubbles issued from his mouth. Then, with a sardonic grin
on his sensuous lips, turned and entered the castle. On reaching the
audience chamber he summoned the captain of the castle guards.
"Has Marsa been confined in the dungeon?" he asked.
"She has, your highness, with heavy manacles and the spiked collar
about her neck as directed."
He dismissed the captain with a nod, then picked up a long, flexible
tube, one end of which passed into the floor behind the throne. On the
free end was a bell-shaped contrivance which he held to his ear. He
listened intently for some time, then smiled grimly, as he heard the
sound of subdued sobbing--the sobbing of a girl who had given up all
hope of rescue.
The tube connected with a sound amplifier which was concealed behind a
grating in the room where Vernia was imprisoned.
CHAPTER XXVI.
A DIABOLICAL TORTURE CHAMBER.
The plans of Prince Destho for the reconquest of Uxpo were
materializing rapidly, as he breakfasted leisurely in the throne room
of his castle several days later. He had sent no less than fifty hired
assassins to slay Grandon, and, if this failed, had a huge army of
thirty thousand men assembled in and around his stronghold, ready to
march on the rebellious kingdom.
Daintily selecting small tidbits from a huge tray containing an immense
assortment of choice viands which four slaves held for him beside the
scarlet-cushioned throne, he conversed condescendingly with a group
of his officers who stood on either side of him in an attitude of
respectful attention.
A courier, dusty and bedraggled was hurried before the throne.
"How now, Torbo?" asked Destho, glancing down at the courier. "What
tidings from Uxpo?"
"Grandon of Terra has been slain and his body lies in state at the
royal palace!"
"Great news, if true. Who slew him?"
"I do not know, but it is rumored that the men who succeeded in the
attempt were, themselves, slain."
"Did you see the body?"
"I did, your majesty, and the features were so horribly mutilated as to
be unrecognizable. I also regret to inform your majesty that your chief
assassin, Malcabar was slain yesterday morning."
Destho turned to his councillors. "We will not disband our army yet,"
he said. "I must have a further confirmation of this."
A few minutes later, two of the castle guards entered, ushering between
them a tall, bearded man in the uniform of a soldier of Reabon. All
three made the customary salute before the throne, then they rose, and
the two guards stepped back, leaving the tall soldier in the center of
the floor.
"Whom have we here?" asked Destho, addressing one of the guards.
"His papers proclaim him one Xantol of Uxpo, resident helper of the
spy, Malcabar, and a bearer of tidings for your highness."
Destho looked long and appraisingly at the soldier. It seemed that
those black eyes were searching the usurper's very soul.
"Your tidings, Xantol," snapped Destho.
"I have been sent to inform your highness of a rumor being circulated
in Uxpo, to the effect that Grandon of Terra has been slain."
"A rumor, say you? You bring us stale news, fellow. We have already
been apprised that the villainous impostor is dead and that his
mutilated body lies in state in the palace."
Destho turned to the guard.
"Who signed this man's papers?" he asked.
"They are signed by Malcabar."
Destho elevated his eyebrows ever so slightly.
"By Malcabar? Let me see them."
He examined the papers carefully.
"The writing and signature seem genuine," he said: "Send for that
courier again!"
As Torbo reëntered, bowing low, Destho snarled:
"So! You found it expedient to lie to me, Torbo!"
"I--lie to your highness?" exclaimed Torbo in surprise. "Surely it
pleases your highness to jest with his humble servant."
"You told me that Malcabar was slain yesterday morning. I have here
a letter, written and signed by him last evening. Can the dead write
letters?"
"If you have a letter from Malcabar, then indeed can the dead write
letters, for I swear by the bones of Thorth that I saw him lead the
attack on the usurper yesterday morning and a huge armored guard clove
him from crown to chin."
* * * * *
Destho looked searchingly from Torbo to the soldier, and from the
soldier back to Torbo.
"One of you lies, that is certain," he said, "and you may rest assured,
both of you, that the guilty man will be discovered and dealt with for
his perfidy."
"May I ask who brought the letter?" asked Torbo.
"I brought the letter," replied the soldier.
"And who are you?"
"Xantol of Uxpo, resident helper of Malcabar."
Torbo flushed angrily.
"This man lies," he said. "Malcabar had no Uxponian helpers. All were
men of Reabon, and all died with him yesterday morning."
"You were acquainted with Malcabar's assistants?" asked Destho.
"Every one of them."
"And you have never seen this man before?"
"I have seen him somewhere," replied Torbo, knitting his brows. "His
face is familiar yet unfamiliar." He approached the soldier and scanned
his features carefully. Then he burst into a loud laugh.
"Shoot me for a hahoe if this man wears not a false beard," he said,
and to prove his statement he suddenly reached forward and plucked a
handful of hair from the man's face.
The Uxponian whipped out his scarbo, but strong arms pinioned his own
from behind, and, in a moment, he was deprived of his blade and stood
helpless in the grip of the two burly guards.
"Pluck a few more feathers from this bird and see if you can identify
him," said Destho.
"That is unnecessary," replied Torbo, "for I have recognized him
already. He is Grandon of Terra!"