The zaldar didn't even glance at us, but went on gobbling.
"This is Vanaia," said Noola. "Vanaia, this is Carson of Venus and Ero Shan of Havatoo."
"She is very sad," said Noola, sobbing. "She is so sad that she refuses to talk."
"How distressing!" I exclaimed, recalling that it is always best to humor those poor unfortunates who are the victims of mental disorders. "I presume that this is the work of Morgas, the scoundrel."
"Yes," said Tovar; "Morgas did it. She refused to be his mate; so he stole her, turned her into a zaldar, and returned her to us."
Sadly we turned away and started back toward the castle. "Could you keep your mind on Nalte?" I asked Ero Shan.
Ero Shan ignored my question, and turned to Tovar. "Tell us something about this Morgas," he said.
"Certainly," replied our host. "He is a powerful vootogan, whose stronghold is farther up the valley. He is a man of ill repute and ill deeds. He has powers that are beyond those of human men: he is a wizard. He has many warriors, and with them he attacked the other three castles in this part of the valley. Mine is impregnable; and we repulsed him, but he took the other two.
Those of their inmates whom he did not kill, he took back to his own castle and turned into zaldars. If you would like to see his castle, I can show it to you from the south tower."
I said that I would, and soon we were climbing the long spiral staircase that led to the summit of the south tower. Noola and the others accompanied us. Noola "Humphed" a couple of times on the way up; and when Tovar finally pointed out Morgas's castle standing on an eminence and just visible far up the valley, she said, "As though they had never seen it before!" I sighed, for I knew that the effects of Noola's brandy had worn off.
From the tower we could see a large herd of zaldars grazing beyond the river that flows below Tovar's castle.
They were guarded by a number of warriors. It was, doubtless, the same herd above which Ero Shan and I had flown.
Tovar said, "Do you see those zaldars?"
"They are not zaldars," said Noola, "as he very well knows: they are members of the Tolan and Ladia families to whom the two castles farther down the valley belong."
Tovar sighed. "Morgas turned them all into zaldars.
We used to eat zaldars, but no more; we might be eating a friend or relative. Now we eat zorat meat-when we can get it. Very fine zaldars were raised in this valley: each family had its own herd, and we used to do down with our soldiers and steal the zaldars belonging to other families: it was excellent sport.
"As the best grazing is down at this end of the valley, Morgas used to send his herd down here; and he had a lot of them stolen; because the Tolans and the Ladias or we Pandars would often join our forces ad attack Morgas's men and steal his zaldars: we all hatedMorgas.
Although the rest of us stole each other's zaldars, we were good friends: our familfes visited back and forth and intermarried. Yonda is a Tolan and Noola is a Ladia.
"I'll tell you, those were the good old days; but when Morgas started turning people into zaldars, there was no use going down and stealing them, for no one would eat them: no one wanted to take a chance that he might be eating a father, a cousin, or even a mother-in-law. But Morgas and his people eat them: they are cannibals."
It was almost dark when we returned to the great hall of the castle. Noola sat on a bench watching us with those wild eyes of hers: it seemed quite evident that she was mad. I was sure that Tovar was unbalanced, too; although he was not quite as crazy as Noola. I was not so sure as to Endar and Yonda: they sat silent and morose, and I gathered the impression that they were afraid of the others - that Yonda, especially, was: she had that frightened look in her eyes, which I had noticed from the first.
I thoroughly wished myself out of there, and regretted that I had not found an excuse to take .off before dark.
Now, with a few feeble, flickering lights, the castle was an eerie place; the evening meal something that might have been lifted bodily from a murder mystery story: the mad hostess, eyeing us with suspicion and hate; the uneasy host; the silent, frightened young people; the servants, slinking silently and furtively in and out of the shadows, terror and hatred in their eyes.
All these things coniured thoughts of poison, and when I had an opportunity I cautioned Ero Shan. We were both careful not to take food unless it was contained in a common bowl from which the members of the family helped themselves, and even then we did riot taste it until after some of them had. As a social event, the dinner was not a success.
Immediately after dinner I suggested that we would like to retire, as we had had a hard day and wished to get an early start in the morning. At that, Noola laughed:
I think a writer of horror stories would have called it a hollow laugh. I don't know what a hollow laugh is. I have never known. I should describe Noola's laugh as a graveyard laugh; which doesn't make much more sense than the other, but is more shivery.
Ero Shan and I had arisen, and now Tovar summoned a servant to show us to our room. We bade the family goodnight and started to follow the servant, and as we passed Yonda she arose and laid a hand on my arm.
"Carson of Venus," she whispered, "be-" and then Noola darted forward and dragged her away.
"Fool!" she hissed at the girl. "Would you be next?"
I hesitated a moment; and then, with a shrug, I followed Ero Shan and the silent figure that preceded him into the shadows which the lighted taper that it carried seemed only to accentuate. I followed up creaking, rickety stairs to a balcony that encircled the great hall and into a room that opened onto the balcony.
Here, the servant lighted a small cresset and then almost ran from the room, his eyes popping with terror.
Chapter Five
"WHAT do you make of it Carson?" demanded Ero Shan, when we were alone. "They all seem to be afraid of us."
"Noola has gotten it into her mad mind that we are emissaries of Morgas, and she has evidently convinced the servants of this. Yonda doesn't believe it, and Tovar isn't sure: I don't know about Endar. I think that Yonda is the only perfectly sane member of the household.
"It all reminds me," I continued, "of a very old legend of the world of my birth. Among other things, it recounts the exploits of an old magician named Merlin, who could turn his enemies into members of the lower orders, such as pigs; just as Morgas is supposed to turn people into zaldars.
"Then there were a lot of brave knights who rode around the country rescuing beautiful damsels who were shut up in towers or had been turned into Poland China sows. There were Sir Galahad, Sir Gawain, Sir Lancelot, Sir Percivale, and Sir Tristram, that I recall, who sallied forth on the slightest provocation or on none to rescue somebody; but right there the analogy ends, for there don't seem to be any brave knights here to rescue the fair damsels."
Ero Shan yawned. "We are here," he said with a grin.
"Now I am going to bed. I am very tired."
The room in which we were seemed large because the faint light of the cresset, an emaciated, anaemic little light, lacked the stamina, or perhaps the fortitude, to travel outward to the four walls, which consequently seemed far away. There were two very low beds, a couple of benches, a chest of drawers: a poor room, poorly furnished: a dismal, gloomy room. But I went to bed in it and went to sleep almost immediately.
It must have been about midnight that I was awakened. In that dark room, it took me several seconds to orient myself: I couldn't recall where I was nor interpret the creaking noise that I could plainly hear.
Presently I heard whispering voices, and then gradually I came to full awakefulness and a realization of where I was: the voices were just outside our door.