While the warriors stood about, puffing and blowing from their exertions, gingerly fingering this or that painful portion of their anatomies, Xangan strode up to Tomar―who had fallen while trying to defend Ylana to the last―and, with one eye on the girl to see how she liked it, gave the helpless boy a cruel kick in the side. Tomar took it in silence, of course, but I gritted my teeth and made a silent vow to repay Xangan for that cowardly blow someday.
Ylana spat sand from her mouth, and gave the smirking bully a glare that would have shriveled most men in their tracks. Then Xangan strode over to where she lay and looked her over gloatingly. Her abbreviated garments were torn and disarranged, and generous portions of girlflesh were bare to his greedy scrutiny. He said nothing, but his gaze was insult enough. The girl bit her lip, crimsoning. I could cheerfully have killed him.
Then he walked over to where Lukor and I lay bound and looked us over suspiciously. I gave him look for look.
“You,” he growled, prodding me with one foot. “Where did you get that yellow hair?”
“It was a birthday present from my mother,” I said calmly. “Where did you get that yellow stripe down your back?”
The other warriors laughed at this, but Xangan flushed with rage and made as if to kick me as he had kicked the boy. Something in the cold, level look I gave him made him change his mind. He flushed even darker―which roused a few chuckles from those of his men who had not missed the exchange. I got the impression that Xangan was none too popular, even with his own warriors. This was only to be expected. They had fought like men, as had we. They had no reason to despise us, and every reason to feel contempt for Xangan, who had hid until the fight was over and he could safely emerge.
“Shut up, you fomak,” he blustered. A fomak is a venomous cave-spider, and the term is not one of endearment.
“It takes one fomak to recognize another,” I responded with a smile. This got a laugh, too. He growled an oath, looked me over with an elaborate pretense of contempt, and turned on his heel.
“Slay the men,” he said. And my heart sank within me. Was my long road to end here, in an alien land, among strange men? Here, where my princess should never know the manner of my death, nor my comrades avenge it?
“I don’t think we should do that, Xangan,” said one of the warriors, most unexpectedly. He was a good-looking fellow, somewhat more clean-cut and intelligent than the others, from his stance and features. I had noticed him watching me with an expression of something very like admiration in his face, while I had given Xangan taunt for taunt. Now he stepped forward to confront his chief, who stared at him slack-jawed in surprise.
“I don’t care what you think, Thadron―my orders come from the Elders,” Xangan blustered.
The young warrior whom he had addressed as Thadron shook his head firmly.
“Whatever orders you may have from the Elders could hardly cover this present situation, Xangan,” he said in a calm, reasonable tone of voice. “For none of us, and least of all the Elders, could have guessed we would discover Jugrid’s daughter after all this time, and in the company of strangers.”
Xangan tried to stare him down, but failed. “You will obey my orders,” he grumbled weakly. Thadron shook his head.
“Not in this case, I fear. We must find out who these men are and from whence they come. The Elders will want to question them, surely. So we must take them back to the caves with us.”
The others seemed to agree with this, for they nodded to each other, murmuring assent. The sharp eyes of Xangan observed this, and evidently he decided this was not the time for a showdown. He made a hasty attempt to reassert his authority.
“We will let the Elders decide the manner of their death,” he said loudly. Then, with a wicked gleam in his eye, he added nastily, “and the degree of punishment for your insubordination, Thadron!”
If he had hoped to disconcert the other by this pointed remark, he failed signally, for Thadron smiled and said serenely: “Yes, let us abide by the decision of the Elders in this as in all other matters, Xangan―including the punishment of chieftains who overstep their authority!”
And so we were saved―for a time, at least. The jungle men got us to our feet and marched us into the trees, which closed about us with a rustling of scarlet foliage. Within moments all sight or sound of the Cor-Az was lost to us; and within half an hour, so twisting and winding were the jungle trails, we were thoroughly lost ourselves, and could not possibly have retraced our steps to the shores of the Great Lake unaided.
Lukor and Tomar and I were en route to an unknown fate. Our deaths, at best, had but been postponed for a time. Well, I cannot speak for Tomar in this, but as for such as Lukor and I, adventurers of our breed regard any respite with a high degree of optimism mingled with hopes for an even more fortunate turn of events in the near future. We do not give up easily, even when marching to face the unknown.
With Ylana, however, the fate towards which she was being forced was all too known. With every step she took, the jungle maid was drawing closer to a miserable fate in the arms of a cowardly bully whom she despised. This being so, I could only admire helplessly the gallant courage of the brave, resourceful girl. She walked the jungle path with her shoulders back, her head held high, and a resolute expression of aloof contempt on her features. Whatever horrors and degradations awaited her at the end of the trail, she would face them boldly and unafraid.
I felt proud of her, and my only regret was that she had fallen into this dismal situation through my own misfortunate attempts to help her avoid this very fate. She was a lot of woman, for all her tender years, and the boy who truly won her heart would be a very lucky man.
Xangan strode on ahead of us, with the stride of a victorious conqueror, for all his sneering cowardice. But the other jungle men, I noticed, seemed a manly lot. They treated us with dignity and offered no discourtesies even to the helpless girl. Xangan may have been a rarity among his people―even the finest barrel can hold a rotten apple or two―but I judged that, on the whole, Jugrid’s people, while they may have occupied a lowly rung on the ladder of social evolution, were of a superior breed.
Thadron in particular seemed to be a decent fellow. He fell into line at my side, and, once Xangan had taken his place in the lead and was well out of earshot, opened a conversation with me. He was curious as to my coloring and inquired, politely enough, as to my homeland. I was cautious about revealing overmuch concerning our true origin or mission into this hemisphere, for it was impossible to know if word of our presence among the jungle men might somehow come to the attention of our enemies the Mind Wizards, so I responded to his interested queries in an off-hand manner, replying that my homeland lay at a considerable distance from this region.
Thadron sensed my reticence, although he could hardly have guessed my reason for it, and respected my desire to keep my native land a secret. Considering his innate courtesy and gentlemanliness, I was thankful that it was not necessary for me to lie to him. For of course I had but told him, strictly speaking, the truth. Since my native land was at that moment something like three hundred and ninety million miles away, it could certainly be said to be at “a considerable distance” from these jungles.
To his other questions, I responded in more detail. Thadron was curious to learn if men with yellow hair, fair skins and blue eyes were common in my homeland, and I told him that such as I were common enough in my land, but that we came in a variety of shades, which seemed to satisfy him. He also displayed a certain curiosity in the peculiar means by which I had laid out several of his fellow-warriors, armed only with my bare hands.