"Take your strong man," he said; "Tarzan does not want him." Then he walked away and stood before the ramp, waiting, as though he demanded his freedom.
Amid shrieks and howls that called to Tarzan's mind only the foulest of wild beasts, the loathsome hyena, the crowd hurled the unhappy Phobeg back into the arena. "Kill him! Kill him!" they screamed.
Nemone leaned from her loge. "Kill him, Tarzan!" she cried.
"I shall not kill him," replied the ape-man.
Nemone arose in her loge. She was flushed and excited. "Tarzan!" she cried, and when the ape-man glanced up at her, "Why do you not kill him?"
"Why should I kill him?" he demanded. "He cannot harm me, and I kill only in self-defense or for food." Phobeg, bruised, battered, and helpless, arose weakly to his feet and stood reeling drunkenly. He heard the voice of the pitiless mob screaming for his death. He saw his antagonist standing a few paces away in front of the ramp, paying no attention to him, and dimly and as though from a great distance he had heard him refuse to kill him. He had heard, but he did not comprehend.
"Kill him, fellow!" Erot cried. "It's the queen's command."
The ape-man glanced up at the queen's favorite.
"Tarzan kills only whom it pleases him to kill." He spoke in a low voice that yet carried to the royal loge. "I shall not kill Phobeg."
"You fool," cried Erot, "do you not understand that it is the queen's wish, that it is the queen's command, which no one may disobey and live, that you kill the fellow?"
"If the queen wants him killed, why doesn't she send you down to do it? She is your queen, not mine." There was neither awe nor respect in the voice of the ape-man.
Erot looked horrified. He glanced at the queen. "Shall I order the guard to destroy the impudent savage?" he asked.
Nemone shook her head. Her countenance remained inscrutable, but a strange light burned in her eyes. "We give them both their lives," she said. "Set Phobeg free, and bring the other to me in the palace."
10. IN THE PALACE OF THE QUEEN
A detachment of common warriors commanded by an under-officer had escorted Tarzan to the stadium, but he returned to the city in the company of nobles.
Congratulating him upon his victory, praising his prowess, asking innumerable questions, they followed him from the arena, and at the top of the ramp another noble accosted him. It was Gemnon.
"The queen has commanded me to accompany you to the city and look after you," he explained. "This evening I am to bring you to her in the palace, but in the meantime you will want to bathe and rest, and I imagine that you might welcome some decent food after the prison fare you have been eating recently.
"I shall be glad of a bath and good food," replied Tarzan, "but why should I rest? I have been doing nothing else for several days."
"But you have just come through a terrific battle for your life!" exclaimed Gemnon. "You must be tired."
Tarzan shrugged his broad shoulders. "Perhaps you had better look after Phobeg instead," he replied. "It is he who needs rest; I am not tired."
Gemnon laughed. "Phobeg should consider himself lucky to be alive. If anyone looks after him, it will be himself."
As they were walking toward the city now. The other nobles had joined their own parties or had dropped behind, and Gemnon and Tarzan were alone, if two may be said to be alone who are surrounded by a chattering mob through which bodies of armed men and lion-drawn chariots are making their slow way.
"You are popular now," commented Gemnon.
"A few minutes ago they were screaming at Phobeg to kill me," Tarzan reminded him.
"I am really surprised that they are so friendly," remarked Gemnon. "You cheated them of a death, the one thing they are all hoping to see when they go to the stadium. It is for this they pay their lepta for admission."
When they reached the city, Gemnon took Tarzan to his own quarters in the palace. These consisted of a bedroom and bath in addition to a living room that was shared with another officer. Here Tarzan found the usual decorations of weapons and shields, in addition to pictures painted on leather. He saw no books, nor any other printed matter; neither was there any sign of writing materials in the rooms. He wanted to question Gemnon on this subject, but he found that he had never learned any word for writing or for a written language.
The bath interested the ape-man. The tub was a coffin-like affair made of clay and baked. The plumbing fixtures were apparently all of solid gold. While questioning Gemnon he learned that the water was brought from the mountains east of the city through clay pipes of considerable size and distributed by means of pressure tanks distributed throughout all of urban Cathne. Gemnon summoned a slave to prepare the bath, and when Tarzan had finished, a meal was awaiting him in the living room. While he was eating, and Gemnon lounged near in conversation, another young noble entered the apartment. He had a narrow face and rather unpleasant eyes, nor was he overly cordial when Gemnon introduced him to Tarzan.
"Xerstle and I are quartered together," Gemnon explained.
"I have orders to move out," snapped Xerstle.
"Why is that?" asked Gemnon.
"To make room for your friend here," replied Xerstle sourly, and then he went into his own room mumbling something about slaves and savages.
"He does not seem pleased," remarked Tarzan.
"But I am," replied Gemnon in a low voice. "Xerstle and I have not gotten along well together. We have nothing in common. He is one of Erot's friends and was elevated from nothing after Erot became Nemone's favourite. He is the son of a foreman at the mines. If they had elevated his father he would have been an acquisltion to the nobility, for he is a splendid man, but Xerstle is a rat—like his friend, Erot."
"I have heard something of your nobility," said Tarzan. "I understand that there are two classes of nobles, and that one class rather looks upon the other with contempt even though a man of the lower class may hold a higher title than many of those in the other class."
"We do not look upon them with contempt if they are worthy men," replied Gemnon. "The old nobility, the lion men of Cathne, is hereditary; the other is but temporary—for the lifetime of the man who has received it as a special mark of favour from the throne. In one respect at least it reflects greater glory on its possessor than does hereditary nobility, as it is often the deserved reward of merit. I am a noble by accident of birth; had I not been born a noble I might never have become one. I am a lion man because my father was; I may own lions because, beyond the memory of man, an ancient ancestor of mine led the king's lions to battle."
"What did Erot do to win his patent of nobility?" continued the ape- man.
Gemnon grimaced. "Whatever services he has rendered have been tiersonal; he has never served the state with distinction. If he owns any distinction, it is that of being the prince of flatterers, the king of sycophants."
"Your queen seems to intelligent a woman to be duped by flattery."
"No one is, always!"
"There are no flatterers among the beasts," said Tarzan.
"What do you mean by that?" demanded Gemnon.
"Erot is almost a beast."
"You malign the beasts. Did you ever see a lion that fawned upon another creature to curry favour?"
Xerstle, entering from his room, interrupted their conversation. "I have gathered my things together," he said; "I shall send a slave for them presently." His manner was short and brusque. Gemnon merely nodded in assent, and Xerstle departed.
"He does not seem pleased," commented the ape-man.
"May Xarator have him!" ejaculated Gemnon.
"Though he would serve a better purpose as food for my lions," he added as an afterthought, "if they would eat him."