A shadow darkened Zana's face as she glared venomously at her mocker.
"Aye, I shall kill you," she said. "So slowly that you will beg for a merciful death. Then the vultures will pick your carcass clean on the Mountain of the Gods."
Thordred suddenly shouted with laughter.
"Save your words, wench. It is just like a woman to threaten with words. A man's vengeance is with a spear, swift and sudden."
He paused, and a curious light grew in his amber eyes. His great body tensed as Thordred listened.
In the distance, a tumult grew louder and louder, like the beating of the sea. Suddenly it was thundering through the throne room.
Zana sprang to her feet, her lips parted in astonishment.
The vast doors at the end of the room burst inward. Through the portal poured a yelling mob.
"Thordred!" they roared. "Ho, Thordred!"
The giant grinned victoriously at Zana.
"Some are still faithful to me, it seems. They would rather see a man on the throne—"
A blistering curse burst from Zana's lips. She snatched a spear from a guard and savagely drove its point at the prisoner. But Thordred sprang aside, laughing, the muscles rolling effortlessly under his tawny skin.
He set his foot on the links of the chain that bound his wrists. His body arched like a bow. The metal snapped asunder, and Thordred the Usurper was free!
The guards near the throne leaped at him. He ducked under a swift spear at the same instant that his fist smashed a face into a bloody ruin. And then the mob surrounded him, lifted him, bore him back.
"Slay him!" Zana shrilled. "Slay him!"
The mob swept back, out of the hall, through the great doors and into the street.
But now Zana's cried brought a response. Armed soldiers rushed in through a dozen portals. They raced after the escaping prisoner, with Zana fearlessly leading them.
It was sunset. The western sky flamed blood-red. Down the street the crowd seethed, to halt in an open plaza. Grimly menacing, they turned at bay, Thordred at their head. He towered above the others with his chains dangling from his wrists and ankles.
Zana's men formed into a sizeable army, filling the street from side to side.
Arrows flew, hissing at the angry, triumphant mob. Over the city the low, thunderous muttering grew louder.
"Revolt! Revolt!"
It was civil war.
But the conflict was not yet in contact. A space still lay between the two forces. Only spears and arrows had crossed it.
"Charge!" Zana shouted. "Slay them all!"
Grinning, Thordred raised high his lance and shook it defiantly.
The queen's soldiers drew erect, and like a thundercloud they began to move. Abruptly they were sweeping forward, irresistible, a tidal wave bristling with steel barbs. The pounding of then- shod feet hammered loud on the stones. In the forefront raced Zana, her harsh face twisted with fury.
Thordred let fly his spear. It missed its mark. At the last moment the giant had hesitated, and his gaze went up to the western sky. His jaw dropped in awe. For the first time, Thordred was afraid. A scream rose, thin and wailing.
"Demons!" someone cried. "Demons!"
The soldiers slowed involuntarily in their charge, then one by one they halted. Struck motionless with fearful wonder, every man stood gaping toward the west.
Against the blood-red sunset loomed actual demons!
Giants, scores of feet tall, they were. Titans whose heads towered above the city's walls. A whole army of the monsters loomed black against the scarlet sky. These were not men! Shaggy, hump-shouldered, dreadful beings more human than apes but unmistakably beasts, they came thundering down upon the city. The frightful masks twisted in ferocious hunger. They swept forward—
No one noticed that their advance made not the slightest sound. Panic struck the mobs. Both sides dropped then-weapons to flee.
From the sky a great, shining globe dropped. It hovered above the plaza. Two beams of light flashed down from it. One struck Thordred, bathing him in crawling radiance. The other caught Zana.
The man and the woman alike were held motionless. Frozen, paralyzed, they were swept up, lifted into the air. When they reached the huge globe, they seemed to disappear.
The sphere then rose, dwindled quickly to a speck and was gone.
Surprisingly the giants had also vanished.
Ardath adjusted the controls. Sighing, he turned away. The ship was back in its orbit, circling the Earth. It would not deviate from that course for centuries, until the moment Ardath's hand moved its controls.
He picked up a small metal box, stepped out of the laboratory and closed the panel. On the floor at his feet lay the unconscious forms of Zana and Thordred. Ardath set down the box.
This would be a new experiment, one that he had never tried. He could not speak the language of these Earthlings, nor could they speak his. But knowledge could be transmitted from one brain to another. Thought patterns were a form of energy, and that could be transferred, just as a matrix may stamp out duplicates. First, the man…
Ardath opened the black box, took out a circular metallic band and adjusted it about the sleeping Thordred's head. A similar band went about his own. He pressed a switch, felt a stinging, tingling sensation within his skull.
He removed the metal bands, replaced them and waited patiently. Would the experiment work? His lips shaped unfamiliar syllables. He had learned Thordred's language—but could the undeveloped brain of the Earthling be equally receptive?
Thordred groaned and opened his eyes. He stared up at Ardath. Into those amber eyes came a curious look that might have been amazement, but which was certainly not fear.
"You are not hurt," Ardath said in Thordred's harsh, primitive language. "Nor will you be harmed."
The Earthling stood up with an effort, breathing hoarsely. He took an unsteady step, reeled, collapsed with a shattering crash upon the thought transference apparatus. He lay silent and unmoving, an utterly helpless strong man.
No expression showed on Ardath's face, though the work of weeks had been ruined. The device could be built again, though he did not know if it should be. Had it been successful?
Thordred shuddered, rolled over. Painfully he rose and leaned weakly against the wall. His amber eyes rested puzzledly on Ardath as he asked a question in the Kyrian's soft language, which grated from his crude throat.
"Who are you, a god or a demon?"
Ardath smiled with satisfaction, for all was going well. He must explain matters to this Earthling to calm his fears. Later, he would rebuild the machine and teach Zana his own tongue. Then the three could sleep, for centuries if necessary.
But Ardath did not know that his device had worked too well. It had transferred knowledge of his own language to Thordred's brain, yet it had transferred more than that. All of Ardath's memories had been transmitted to the mind of the Earthling!
At that moment, Thordred's wisdom was as great as that of his captor. Though he had not Ardath's potentiality for learning more, unearthly, amazing wisdom had been impressed on his brain cells. Thordred had smashed the machine, not through accident, but with coldly logical purpose. It would not do for Zana to acquire Ardath's wisdom also. With an effort, Thordred kept an expression of stupid wonder on his face. He must play his role carefully. Ardath must not yet suspect that another man shared his secrets.
Ardath was speaking, carefully explaining things that his captive already knew. While Thordred seemed to listen, he swiftly pondered and discarded plans. Zana must die, of course. As for sleeping for centuries— Well, it was not a pleasant thought. Ardath must be slain, so Thordred could return to Earth, with new knowledge.
"The giants you saw in the sky," said Ardath, "were not real. They were three-dimensional projections, enlarged by my apparatus. I recorded the originals of those beings ages ago, when they actually lived and fought cave-bears and saber-toothed tigers."