Lord of the Spiders or Blades of Mars

by Michael Moorcock

  But it was quite safe and so was Vas Oola, who seemed very relieved to see us.

  We had paused to cut small logs for use as ballast, and these were soon aboard.

  Then, once aboard, we released the mooring lines and began to rise gently skywards.

  As soon as we were high enough above the great jungle, which seemed to stretch away to every horizon, I started the engine, set our course and soon we were - or we hoped devoutly we were - on our way to Mendishar to see if something could be saved from the wreckage of the ill-fated revolution.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Sentenced to Die!

  Thankfully we crossed the ocean without mishap and arrived, at length, at the borders of Mendishar.

  We landed in the hills and hid our craft.

  Twice, as we scoured the hills in the hope of discovering some information, we came upon totally destroyed villages.

  Once we were lucky. We met an old crone who had, by luck, escaped the destruction. She told us that whole families of hill-people had been arrested; many, many villages razed and hundreds, possibly thousands, slain.

  She told us that the leaders of the revolution who had been captured were due to die in a great ritual personally inaugurated by the upstart Bradhinak Jewar Baru. She did not know when, only that it had not yet taken place.

  We decided we would have to visit the capital - Mendisharling - ourselves in order to see just what the true situation was, judge the mood of the populace and, if possible, rescue those under sentence of death.

  With robes salvaged from one of the ruined villages, Hool Haji disguised himself, as an itinerant trader and myself as - a bundle!

  I, of course, would draw too much attention in whatever disguise I attempted, so I had to become the 'trader's’ goods!

  It was in this manner, slung over Hool Haji’s shoulder, that I entered, for the first time, the capital city of Mendishar. It was a place of little spirit. Peeping through a small rent in the cloth in which I was swathed I could see that, apart from the swaggering, boorish Priosa, there was not a back that was not bent, not a face that was not lined with misery, not a child that was not emaciated.

  We passed through the market and there was little of anything nourishing on sale.

  The whole city had an air of desolation about it which contrasted sharply with the bright uniforms of the ‘chosen’ Priosa,

  It was a scene familiar to me from my reading, but I had never seen anything like it in real life. It was a place ruled by a tyrant who so feared for his own security that he did not dare relax his iron rule for a single moment

  Whatever happened now, I reflected as I was humped along by my friend - who was not, I felt, going out of his way to make my ride comfortable - the tyrant must fall eventually, for people can be ground down only for so long. At some time the tyrant - or his descendant - relaxes, and it is at that moment his subjects choose to act!

  Hool Haji took a room at a tavern near the square and went to it at once. Then he placed me on the hard bed and sat down mopping his brow as I disentangled myself from the cloth.

  I grimaced as I sat up.

  ‘I feel as if every bone in my body is dislocated,' I said.

  ‘I apologise.' Hool Haji smiled. 'But it would look suspicious if an impoverished trader like myself should treat his goods as if they were precious things instead of the few skins and rolls of fabric he told the gate guards he had.'

  'I suppose you're right,' I agreed, trying to wriggle the circulation back into my legs and arms. 'What now?'

  'You wait here while I go about the city and see what information I can glean - and test the temper of the people. If they are ready to rise up against Jewar Bam - as I suspect they might be, given the right push - then perhaps we can decide a means of destroying Jewar Barn's rule.'

  He set off almost at once, leaving me to do little more than fiddle with my fingers. The reason I had come with him - apart from the obvious one of being his friend and ally -was that if he was captured I might have a chance of taking the new^ back to our friends and because, if we needed the airship, I would be able to operate it in the event of this happening.

  I waited and waited until, in the late afternoon, I heard a disturbance in the street below.

  Cautiously I went to the window and peeped out.

  Hool Haji was down there talking heatedly to a couple of insolent looking Priosa guards.

  'I am simply a poor trader,' he was saying. 'Nothing more or less, gentlemen.'

  'You answer closely the description we have of the Pretender Hool Haji He fled, coward that he was, from a village we investigated some weeks ago, leaving his followers to fight for him. We are seeking this weakling since he has managed to convince a few misguided people that his rule will be better for Mendishar than that of the noble Bradhi Jewar Bam.'

  'He sounds a wretch,' Hool Haji said dutifully. 'A positive scoundrel. I hope you catch him, noble sirs. Now I must return...'

  'We believe that you are this hwok'kak Hool Haji,' one guard said, blocking Hool Haji's path and using one of the most insulting terms in the Martian vocabulary. Literally, a hwok'kak is a reptile of particularly filthy habits, but the implications of this are far wider and impossible to describe here.

  Hool Haji controlled himself visible on hearing this, but probably gave himself away - not that there seemed any chance of the guards letting him come back to the tavern.

  'You will come with us for questioning,' said the second guard. 'And if you are not Hool Haji you will probably be released - though the Bradhi has no love for rabble such as wandering traders.'

  There was nothing for it. I decided, but to act. There was a spare sword in the roll of cloth - it had been trying to stab me all the way through the city. I went to the bed and, tugged the sword free, then returned to my position at the window.

  Now was the time to try to help my friend, for once the whole city was alerted to stop Hool Haji escaping there would be little chance of us leaving Mendisharling alive.

  I balanced myself momentarily on the window sill and then launched myself with a yell at the nearest guard.

  The great warrior was astonished to see what was, to him, a tiny man leaping at him with a naked sword.

  I landed only a short distance from him and immediately engaged him.

  Realising that my decision had been the only sensible one and that secrecy was no longer possible. Hool Haji attacked the second guard.

  Soon the street had cleared as if by magic and only the two Priosa and ourselves were left, battling to the death.

  I hoped that the downtrodden populace did not have those among them who would go and bring other Priosa.

  If we could finish these, we might just make it from the city.

  My opponent was still baffled. He never really recovered his wits. Within a few minutes I had stabbed him through the side of his armour and he lay dead on the cobbles of the street.

  Hool Haji also finished his opponent quickly. We turned at the sound of running feet and saw a whole detachment of Priosa coming towards us. Mounted on a great grey dahara was a tall, heavily built Mendishar in golden armour.

  'Jewar Baru!' The name was an oath on Hool Haji's lips.

  Plainly these warriors had not been summoned but had heard the sound of our fight from close by.

  Hool Haji prepared to stand his ground, but I tugged at his arm.

  'Don't be a fool, friend. You will be overwhelmed in an instant! Leave now and we will return soon to deal out justice to the tyrant.'

  Reluctantly, Hool Haji followed me as I ducked back into the tavern and barred the door.

  Almost at once the guards were battering at the door and we ran upstairs to the third and top storey of the building, and from there through a hatchway on to the roof.

  The houses in this quarter of the city were huddled close together and there was no difficulty in leaping from one flat roof to another. Behind us the guards - but not Jewar Baru, who had doubtless remained in the safety of the st
reet - had reached the roof and were following us, shouting at us to stop.

  I do not think they recognised Hool Haji at that stage -although it was well-known by then that he had a man like myself as a constant fighting companion - and would probable have exerted themselves even more if they had realised just who my friend was.

  The roofs became lower now and at last we were running across the tops of single-storey buildings.

  Near the city wall we dropped back into the street. People were startled at our appearance and we were in time to see a couple of half-drunk Priosa come out of a wine shop and stagger towards their daharas.

  We were there first, mounting the beasts, as it were under their noses, wheeled them about and were off, heading for the gate, leaving the shouting guards still confused.

  Near the gates we met four Priosa who possessed faster reactions than their friends. Seeing us on what were evidently stolen mounts they tried to block our path.

  Our swords swung swiftly and we left two dead behind us and the two others wounded as we rode hell for leather through the gates and down the long road that led away from Mendisharling.

  Already riders were pursuing us as we galloped along the trail and then turned sharply towards the hills on our left.

  Into the hills we rode, our enemies close behind us, our beasts beginning to flag.

  If night had not fallen soon I think we should have had to turn and fight a force that was far too large to give us any hope. But night did fall and we were able to elude our pursuers before the rising of the moons.

  In the comparative safety of a cave we had discovered, Hool Haji told me all he had learned in the city.

  The people were beginning to murmur almost openly against the tyrant, but were too frightened to do anything about it - and too disorganised for it to be effective if they did.

  He thought that the news of the wanton razing of villages and killing of the innocent had filtered through to the city, though the Priosa were making every attempt to discount the rumours.

  Nearly two hundred prisoners of all ages and sexes were even now languishing in Jewar Bam's jails - ready for the great 'sacrifice' to be held in the city square.

  All of these had received the death sentence for their supposed aiding of Hool Haji and his supporters. Some of them had known nothing of it - and the children, of course, had no part at all. This was Jewar Baru's example. It would be a bloody example. It might enable him to continue to hold the people down for another two or three years at most - but surely no longer.

  'But that is not the point,' I said to Hool Haji. 'These people must somehow be saved - now.''

  'Of course,' he agreed. 'And do you know the name of one of those in Jewar Bani's jail - the man of whom they intend to make a particular example?'

  ‘Who?'

  ‘Morahi Vaja. He was captured in the fighting. There were special orders to take him alive!

  'When is this "sacrifice" to take place?' I asked.

  Hool Haji put his head in his hands.

  Tomorrow at midday,' he groaned. 'Oh, Michael Kane, what can we do? How can we stop this happening?'

  "There is only one thing we can do,' I said grunly. 'We must make use of the resources we have. The four of us - you, myself, Jil Deera and Vas Oola - must attack Mendisharling!'

  'How can four men attack a great city?' he asked incredulously.

  'I will tell you how the attack can be made,' I told him, 'but there is only a small chance of it succeeding.'

  'Tell me your plan,' he said.

  CHAPTER TEN

  A Desperate Scheme

  I STOOD at the controls of the airship and stared through a porthole at the countryside ahead.

  The three blue giants behind me said nothing. There was nothing to say. Our plan, a simple one, had already been fully discussed.

  It was close on midday and we were making rapidly for Mendisharljng. The plan depended primarily on the timing. If we failed, then at least our failure would be spectacular and might at least point the way for future revolutionaries.

  The towers of the capital were now in sight. The city was decorated as if for a festival. Banners flew from every tower and mast - a gay occasion, a stranger would have thought. We knew better...

  In the city square stood two hundred stakes. Tied to the stakes were two hundred prisoners - men, women and children. Standing by them, with sacrificial knives ready in their hands, were two hundred splendidly dressed Priosa.

  In the centre of these circles of stakes, on a platform, stood Jewar Baru himself, clad in his golden armour and carrying a golden knife in his hand. Also on the dais was a stake. Tied to it was Morahi Vaja, his face set, his eyes staring out at nothing but his own terrible fate.

  Surrounding the square, ordered there by decree of the upstart Bradhi, was the entire populace of Mendisharling, many rows deep.

  Jewar Baru stood with arms raised sunwards, a cruel, nervous smile twitching his thin lips. He was waiting in ghoulish anticipation for the sun to reach its zenith.

  There was silence in the square save for the puzzled murmurings of the young children, both in the crowd and at the stake, who did not know what was about to happen. Their parents hushed them but did not explain. How could they explain?

  Jewar Baru's eyes were still fixed cm the sun as he began to speak.

  'Oh, Mendishar, there are those among you who followed the Great Dark One and chose to go against the decrees of the Great Light One whose material manifestation is the Life Giver, the sun. Moved by wretched motives of self-importance and evil, they sent for the murderer and coward Hool Haji to lead them in revolution against your chosen Bradhi. Out of the depths of the dark wastelands came the interloper, out of the night, to fight against the Priosa, the Children of the Sky, the Sons of the Great Light One. But the Great Light One sent a sign to Jewar Baru and told him what was intended, and Jewar Baru went to fight against Hool Haji, who fled and will never be seen again in the daytime, for he is a skulker in the night. Thus the coward fled and the Great Light triumphed. His followers are here today. They will be sacrificed to the Great Light not in a spirit of vengeance, but as a gift to He Who Watches - the Great Light - so that Mendishar may be purified and the death of these will wash away our guilt.'

  The response to this superstitious hypocrisy was not enthusiastic.

  Jewar Baru turned towards Morahi Vaja, his golden knife raised over the warrior's heart, ready to cut it from him in the blood ritual.

  The atmosphere was tense. Jewar Barn's sacrifice of Morahi Vaja would be the signal for two hundred knives to rip out two hundred innocent hearts!

  The sun was only a few moments from its zenith as Jewar Baru began his incantation.

  He was halfway through it and in a state of near-trance when the airship arrived, unnoticed until now, over the city. All eyes were on Jewar Baru, or else were covered - though he had decreed that all must see.

  This is what we had counted on - why we had timed the arrival so carefully even though it would give us only a few seconds in which to try and save the victims in the square.

  We had cut the engines and were drifting over the square, falling lower and lower.

  Then our shadow crossed Jewar Baru's dais just as he was about to plunge the knife into Morahi Vaja's body.

  He wheeled and looked up. All other eyes followed his gaze.

  Jewar Baru's eyes widened in astonishment.

  It was then, from within the cabin, that I raised my arm and flung what I was holding at the upstart Bradhi.

  As I had planned, the point of the javelin grazed his throat - but it was sufficient.

  Jewar Baru, as if struck rigid by the power of some godlike being, became paralysed in the position he had been when looking up at us.

  For the moment we were fighting superstition with superstition so that the appearance of our ship over the square would look like the visitation of some angry god.

  Early that morning I had manufactured a crude megaphone and I now bellowed
through this, my voice distorted and magnified more by the echoes from the surrounding buildings.

  'People of Mendishar, your tyrant is struck down - strike down his minions!'

  The populace began to murmur and their mood was plainly angry as well as puzzled - though the anger was not directed at us. It had been a move depending on psychology. We guessed that the paralysis of Jewar Baru would make his followers lose heart and give heart to the ordinary people.

  Slowly the crowd began to move inward towards the centre of the square while the Priosa, who began to look round in a panicky way, were drawing their swords.

  I brought the airship closer to the dais, giving Hool Haji a chance to leap from ship to platform and stand beside his frozen enemy.

  'Hool Haji!' gasped Morahi Vaja from where he was tied to the stake.

  'Hool Haji!' This came from several Priosa who had recognised the exiled prince.

  'Hool Haji!' This from those folk of Mendisharling who had heard the name spoken by the Priosa.

  ‘Yes - Hool Haji!' cried my friend, raising his sword high. 'Jewar Baru would have it that I am a coward who deserts his people. But see - I enter his city all but single-handed to save my friends and tell you to depose him now! Strike down the Priosa who have persecuted you for so long. Now is your chance to avenge yourselves!'

  For a moment there was virtual silence. Then began a murmur which grew gradually louder and louder until it became a roar.

  Then the entire populace of Mendisharling were moving in on the terrified Priosa.

  Many folk died beneath the swinging swords of the soldiers before the Priosa finally went down beneath the sheer weight of numbers. But fewer - far fewer - died than would have died in the sacrifice, or later in Jewar Baru's jails.

  We watched as the tide of humanity engulfed the Priosa in what appeared to be a single fluid action. When it was over - in the short space of a few minutes - not one Priosa who had been prepared to sacrifice a victim that day was left alive. Indeed, few of the corpses were whole. They had literally been torn to pieces. A fitting, if bloody, end.