She burst into tears, turning to solemn-eyed Koja who had stood quietly through all this, blinking curiously on the scene and doubtless reflecting on the odd mating habits of the human race, so unlike the placid and practical methods enjoyed by his own people,
"Listen to him!" she raged. "Here I am, a guest in the citadel of the powerful Prince of Zanadar, whom I have at length consented to marry, and whom I have persuaded to lend me the uses of his magnificent flying navy―the mightiest fighting force on all of the world―with which I had hoped to wrest my kingdom from the hands of the Black Legion―and along comes this annoying oaf yet once again, to meddle in to my affairs, and ruin all my plans," she stormed amidst a rain of tears.
I was considerably taken aback. But now I understood! I had, for the moment, forgotten that only Luker and myself knew the truth of this matter―that is, that Thuton was treacherously seeking behind Darloona's back to sell her into the very hands of the same bandit legion he was pretending to be willing to battle against! Naturally, she had misinterpreted my actions. I tried to explain the real situation to her, but she stamped her small foot furiously and shook her head until her hair flew about in a flaming cloud and refused to listen to my "clumsy lies," as she called them.
Just then Koja drew my attention to an unfortunate development.
While I had been busied, first with cutting up Thuton and then with countering the enraged accusations of Darloona, the hard-faced Zanadarian guards had at length restored the throng to a semblance of order and were now advancing in a heavily armed squad on the royal box, doubtless with the intentions of capturing Koja, as an escaped prisoner, and me, as the ringleader of the slave revolt.
All of Koja's fellow slaves had, by now, either made their escape by successfully mingling with the crowd, or had been recaptured or slain. Thus there were only he and I to face twenty men armed with swords, bill-hooks, and crossbows―and mailed in full armor, protected by helmet and long kite-shaped Norman-type shields.
And they would be upon us in a minute or two.
I cursed my foolhardy hunger for revenge which had made me draw out my duel with Thuton to such inordinate length. Had I simply run him through when first I had him at sword's point, we could all three of us have been out of the arena and halfway to the Middle City by now, where doubtless we could have found a haven of safety in the Academy Lukor, to which I possessed a key.
But, no! I must play at cat-and-mouse, and dawdle out the duel, so as to show off my newly perfected swordsmanship before the woman I―before Darloona of Shondakor―instead of doing the smart thing, and making an escape while I still had the opportunity.
I choked back a guilty curse, bitterly reflecting on the self-evident fact that while my intentions were usually of the noblest, the most admirable, to the point of the heroic. I somehow or other managed to fumble my every chance to do something worthwhile.
Attempting against impossible odds to set free my friend Koja and the Princess Darloona, I had only bungled the whole matter and thrust both them and myself into even worse danger than before.
But there was no hope for it. Koja and I must stand and fight against twenty armed men. It was hopeless, but there was no other course open to us.
I bitterly cursed my own self-pride and arrogance, wishing I was dead . . . knowing I soon would be.
14. RIDERS OF THE WINDS
The guards were almost upon us. I could see the grim expressions on their hard faces clearly, and the cold fury of vengeance in their eyes. Koja and I stood with drawn steel, ready to defend the Princess of Shondakor to the last, but that last, I knew, would not be long in coming. For, however much mastery in the gentle art of swordsmanship I had imbibed from the tutelage of Lukor, it would not long suffice to hold at bay twenty fresh and well-armed soldiers.
And then a weird shadow fell over the canopied booth, and all of us looked up with astonishment at a fantastic flying monster!
For a moment―so completely unfamiliar was the aerial contraption to me―my eyes simply could not resolve the thing. But then I saw it was an ornithopter. Not one of the eighty-foot monstrosities, like the frigate that had flown us here, but more on the order of the small flying gig wherein I had made my escape from the slave pens to the Middle City.
This particular style of ornithopter was something new to my experience. It was a four-man scout, some twenty-five feet long, with four cockpits, like a king-sized kayak. And it resembled nothing so much as an ungainly aerial version of a Polynesian outrigger canoe. I use this handy comparison because the helium-like gas which rendered the contraption air worthy was contained in two long pontoons below the keel and to either side of the hull, braced apart with struts. This lower structure looked rather like the runners on a sled.
The fantastic flying machine may have looked fairly ridiculous, but it very obviously flew.
And, equally important, it was a way out of our present dilemma.
For there, grinning down at me from the left front cockpit was―Lukor!
Only the Lords of Gordrimator know what happened to him after we became separated in the labyrinth of secret passages beneath the royal citadel. I had thought him either slain in a deadfall trap, or lost somewhere and still within the maze of tunnels. If I had stopped to think about it, I should have realized that if I, who was unable to read the coded markings that showed directions within the maze, had somehow been lucky enough to stumble on a way out, Lukor, who could read them, must have made his exit long before I.
Such, apparently, had been the case. The gallant old Swordmaster had escaped from the maze and had somehow bluffed his way out of the citadel and had been waiting near the arena for an appropriate moment to help Koja and me escape. Somewhere he had found the ornithopter―probably at one of the rooftop guard stations, such as the one atop the slave prison where I had found my ill-fated gig a month ago. At any rate, I would be able to hear the tale of his adventures later, and from his own lips. What was important now was that he had provided us with a means of escape.
The four-man flying craft hovered on throbbing wings directly above the royal box. While Lukor held it steady above us with one hand on the controls, he tossed overside a rope ladder with the other. The end of the ladder brushed the top of the canopy.
I turned to Darloona.
"Swiftly now, Princess," I said. "You ascend the ladder first. Koja and I will hold the guards at bay until you are safely aboard and we may follow you ourselves."
She stared at me, her slanted emerald eyes filled with contemptuous astonishment.
"Are you completely mad, Jandar?" she demanded hotly. "Why should I wish to escape from the city of my friends? I have already told you that Prince Thuton and I are to wed, and that he has pledged his aerial navy to make war against the Black Legion who hold my city―you may escape, if you wish, but I intend to remain here and regain my throne."
Impatience made me rather curt.
"That is all nonsense, Darloona! Thuton is a treacherous liar. He has been lulling you with false promises, while behind your back he has offered you for sale to Arkola of the Chac Yuul for two hundred thousand gold bice!"
"That is a filthy and despicable lie!"
I know not how long we would have argued back and forth, but solemn Koja intervened.
"Cannot this controversy be continued when we are all in safety?" he inquired in his clacking metallic voice. "For, look, Jandar, the guards are almost upon us."
He was right. I had no time to continue my arguments with the hotheaded girl, which were futile anyway as she simply did not believe me. So I did something that perhaps was unwise, but seemed the only thing to do at the time.