by Earl
“You saw the light, Stuart?” he murmured eagerly. “You’re coming with me! Together we’ll lead a great army against Lar Tane—”
Stuart interrupted harshly.
“No, I’m staying. But I couldn’t let you die. You’re my brother. I tried to change Lar Tane’s sentence, but he refused. I thought of this.”
Perry stiffened, and brother stared at brother.
“You’re staying.” Perry curled his lip. “You want power. And Elda. You’ve sold your soul for that!”
Stuart recoiled as if struck. For a moment, his face was stricken. Then anger swept over it.
“No more nurse-maid lectures from you!” he hissed. “This is a man’s world. Man’s job. Get out—get out!” Anger dissolved, abruptly. Stuart’s face went haggard.
“I don’t want power. Perry, you must believe me! I just told Lar Tane that, to keep in his favor. You see, it’s the only way I can have Elda. When I rule, I’ll do the world good. I swear it!”
Perry shook his head.
“A taste of power will call for more. Don’t you see, Stuart? You know it’s against your better judgment. Only Elda holds you—”
“Yes, Elda!” Stuart half moaned. “Perry, you don’t know the witchery of her. The unearthly spell she weaves over a man. The flaming challenge and desire and wonder of her. You don’t know—”
“I do know!” Perry’s murmur changed to harshness. “But behind that, she’s unworthy—venomous, cruel, utterly vain.”
“No, you’re wrong!” Stuart muttered. “She’s not cruel, or bad. She’s just a product of her former time and life. She believes in what she’s doing. And underneath her mockery she’s good and sweet and wonderful. I’m going to tame her—”
“INDEED!”
Both men whirled as if shot.
Elda Tane stood erect before the hole in the wall, through which she had just stepped silently. Tall and regal, silken-robed, she came forward slowly. She glanced amusedly at Stuart.
“A woman is tamed only by love,” she mocked.
The blood slowly drained from Stuart’s face.
“But you love me! You told me—”
“Did I?” she said cruelly.
Stuart grabbed her by the shoulders.
“You mean all the while, from the first, you deceived me, lied to me—”
Staggered shock was in his eyes.
For a moment the girl softened.
“No, not from the first. For a while I thought—” She shrugged indifferently. “I’ve wondered if I’d ever find a man I could look up to, and love. I think not, 30th century or 50th. I’d throw aside an empire for him!”
She was wistful suddenly, in a mercurial change that seemed part of her complex nature. In the candle-light, her ivory and copper beauty shone softly, like Diana the moon-goddess, in a quiet moment from her tempestuous life. The emerald eyes gleamed sincerely now, not mocking.
The two men stared. She was not the battle-queen Semiramis now, or an Amazon. She was a young girl, feminine and alluring, seeking her love. Seeking a man who would melt her vibrant heart, bend her strong will, match her daring with greater courage.
Perry almost pitied her, at that moment. Endowed by nature with extraordinary qualities, she was forced to seek vainly for her master. What man could bring murmurs of endearment from those perfect lips?
She laughed wildly, in a lightning change.
“But he doesn’t exist! So, instead, HI have a man who can give me an empire!”
“I’ll give you an empire!” Stuart whispered. He was over his first shock. Perhaps he had known, subtly, that he hadn’t won her heart. He remembered now the plaintive song she had sung, once. The song had been of herself.
She flashed him a smile, then glanced at Perry.
“And you, Herr Perry? Wouldn’t you give me an empire—if you could?”
“Women have sold themselves all through history,” Perry said bitingly. “Your stakes are only higher.”
Her composure was unbroken, this time, though for a moment tawny rage flicked from her eyes. She laughed away the insult, turning to Stuart.
“You wanted to help Perry escape? I happened to see you going out, furtively. I followed you, came this way.
My father won’t like to hear that you did this.”
“You’ll tell on him, of course,” Perry grunted.
Suddenly, the reminder of escape struck Perry. Elda saw his glance at the hole. Her hand dropped warningly to her side. There was the hilt of a short sword this time, whose scabbard was almost hidden in the folds of her silken gown. She stood nearest the hole.
Perry relaxed, hopelessly. Any other woman and he would have leaped for it. But Elda—she would have that sword out in a flash. And use it.
“No,” she said. “I won’t tell. But escape is out of the question. You’d better leave now, Stuart. My father may wonder, with both of us gone. I’ll follow later, so we aren’t seen coming out of the tunnel together. Then I’ll station guards at the hole.”
Stuart left with averted eyes. He turned back once as though to say something, but went on. Perry could sense the torment in his heart. Elda had knocked the last prop out from under him. Stuart was dangling over a pit of remorse.
CHAPTER XVIII
Green-eyed Mystery
STUART gone, Elda turned back to Perry, her green eyes narrowing.
“I give you one more chance. Join my father’s council table.”
She went on at the stony resolve in his face.
“You really choose death? You must be mad. But listen. You both love me. I have made no binding promise to Stuart. You would have as much chance as he of becoming my father’s successor. And giving me an empire! My father didn’t tell me to say that.”
“Then why are you saying it?” Perry shrugged. “I don’t take dares—as you know.”
Her eyes were on him wonderingly.
“You’ll go to your death—as a martyr—when you could have me. And you want me!”
“Do I?” Perry turned from the glare of her unearthly beauty, stonily. “I think you’re mistaken—”
The rest was cut off as her lips pressed against his. She had thrown her arms around him in a flurry of silk. A breath of perfume from her coppery tresses stung his blood. Her features, soft and tender, were an unvoiced promise. She was a young, loving girl, shorn of pride and haughtiness. So it seemed.
For a mad moment Perry made no move, either to break away or respond. Then, with a curse, he shoved her away. He had seen the gleam of mockery in her eyes.
“You won on the battlefield,” he grated. “You lose here.”
“But you burn for me!” she breathed. “I’m sure of it now. Why didn’t you grab my sword, Perry? You had the chance. Because, in my arms, you forget all else! Yes, it’s the truth. But still—”
Her voice went to sheer wonder.
“But still you take death! Strange.” She looked at him as if he were someone she had never seen before. “You place your ideals above me, above every instinct you have.”
She shrugged, faintly annoyed.
“Yes, I lose this time. You fight better with your heart than with your army, Perry.”
She peered at him steadily. Perry said nothing. He could feel her thoughts spinning, whirring, looking for another vulnerable spot in his armor. She seemed to give up, with a nettled sigh.
Perry grinned. How it must hurt her fantastic pride that her full feminine powers had met defeat, though she had beaten him in war. To Perry, it almost made up for all previous humiliation. She had beaten him in a man’s game, war. But in her own woman’s game, she had lost.
She fingered her sword, as though contemplating making him cringe at instant death.
“Try it,” he challenged, laughing at her swift frown.
“Come,” she said suddenly, turning. “It’s dark outside now.”
“WHAT—” Perry was stunned.
“Escape, of course,” she snapped. “Follow me.”
Perry followed, grunting. Outside somewhere, with the wine of hope on his lips, she would call the guards, then laugh hellishly as he was dragged back. That was her idea—in revenge. But if she was a little careless, just a little! Perry smiled grimly.
Beyond the hole stretched black nothingness. Not quite black. Far ahead, moonlight shafted down from open air. Perry followed her gliding white figure. At times his feet stumbled against rust-eaten ties and ancient tracks of this one-time subway. Once a pile of something rattled. He shuddered.
“Bones,” Elda murmured. “At the fall of Vinna, 2000 years ago, the rebels filled the city with poison gas. Sometimes it all seems like a dream to me, that past I used to live in—” Her voice trailed away.
They reached the slope that led to upper ground, through a narrow cave-in. The girl scrambled up, raised her head cautiously.
“All clear. But be quiet.”
He climbed after her, and stood looking around. Lar Tane’s tower was a hundred yards off. In the vicinity were the foundations of new buildings going up, deserted now of workmen. In the opposite direction loomed the less cleared portions of the Vinna ruins. Toward these Elda led the way, striding swiftly, keeping within shadow.
Perry kept tense watch. Elda touched his hand, stopping him, and pointed ahead. A guard, or policeman, paced ahead, patrolling this section of grounds. Elda led the way around a bulking stone wall.
Perry held his breath. Any moment now she would suddenly call, and laugh to watch the chase as the guards ran him down. But she didn’t call. Safely past, Perry clutched her arm.
“What are you doing?” he demanded. “What trick is this?”
She seemed surprised.
“No trick. I’m leading you to escape. To the river.”
They passed five other patrolling guards, penetrating finally into the wilder, untouched ruins. Perry heard the gurgle of water before they eventually came to the shore. The Danube stretched dark and mysterious into the night.
Elda pointed to a little skiff tied to a post.
“My own. I sometimes rowed on the river, before the war. You have ten hours of darkness, to go downstream. If you get past the Maginot Line at Budapest before dawn, you’re safe.”
“But why are you doing this?” Perry gasped.
“You saved my life once, or spared it, on the battlefield. I’m paying off the debt.”
Perry shook his head, baffled, staring at her. Despite his present position, he sought to view her objectively.
In the moonglow, her beauty was extravagant. Burnished sheen of copper hair, glowing ivory face, emerald eyes muted to sea-green. This seemed a different Elda from all the others. An Elda who for once was not mocking. The conspiracy of moon and night reached inside Perry and left him trembling, stricken. He battled a war of senses, more desperately than on the battlefield.
SHE was lovely, desirable, sincere, behind the mask she had worn. She was woman now—all woman. This was the Elda Stuart loved. Perry’s pulses thundered, and he knew in another moment no power on Earth could help him.
He fought against it.
“Elda,” he said slowly, “this is your own idea. Not one word from me caused you to do this. Of your own free will you brought me here, to escape—”
“Yes,” she agreed, in a low voice.
Perry trembled. How long could he stand it? It seemed that something pushed him resistlessly, inexorably.
“Then I say it now—I love you!” He crushed her in his arms, bruising his lips against hers. She yielded. He drew back finally, searching her eyes eagerly.
“Elda, is it possible that you—”
She made no denial. She clung to him a little.
“I’ll give you an empire,” he panted. “But my kind. Come with me! I’ll defeat your father, since I must. Then you and I will guide the world to great things, glorious things. The things you know are right, deep down inside. Elda, Elda! Come with me—”
Perry stopped. His blood froze.
Elda was laughing. Very quietly, very softly, but with a world of derision in it. Perry stared stupidly, while his mind flopped around like a bewildered thing. And then he knew.
Tricked! He had been tricked into succumbing to her, confessing that which she wanted to hear, as a woman. Did she have guards concealed about, ready to call them, and complete his humiliation?
Wildly, Perry turned for the skiff.
“Wait!” She clutched his arm. “There are no guards here. Before you go, listen. I know you’ll continue the war, I know you’ll fight to the end. Perhaps you’ll win, who knows? But all the while you’re fighting against me, you’ll be fighting for me! I meant every word—that the man who gives me an empire wins me.”
She laughed.
“Go out and fight for your World-State, Perry. Go out and fight to win me! Do you see, you great fool? You cast me aside, before. Now you have to fight for me, and against me. But always for me!”
She laughed again, ringingly.
“You didn’t think for a minute, did you, that you were the man who doesn’t exist—”
PERRY fled. Fled from that hellishly mocking laugh. He untied the skiff, shoved off. He bent to the paddle, heading for mid-stream. He looked back once.
She still stood on the bank, a white vision of loveliness. Her coppery hair was like a burning flame that drove him frantically away. It was not till an hour later, as the strong current swept him steadily southeast, that he was able to keep from ripping the air with a curse, every moment he thought of her.
What had he done? What mad thing had he said to her! Mad thing? No, why try to conceal it from himself? She had burned her way into him. From that first moment, in New York, she had lodged unshakably in his innermost thoughts. Those quiet moments in the laboratory, before the war, thinking of her. Yes, he burned for her. Let the universe stare in horror, but it was so.
And then he cursed again, for ever having let her know.
But gradually, his thoughts grew composed. He forgot the green-eyed girl and the incredible game it delighted her to play. Escape lay ahead, if he slipped beyond enemy territory before dawn. And after that, a chance again to fight Lar Tane.
Life and hope once more were his. Perry paddled desperately, steadily, not satisfied with the current. Muscles aching, he passed the Maginot fortifications at ancient Budapest, as the first rosy gleams of dawn warmed the air. He had a bad moment as a yawning guard, easily within arrow-shot, stretched and looked out over the water. But the guard didn’t notice the skiff, in the early mist. He was there more to watch against invasion inward, than escaping prisoners outward.
Perry paddled till noon, safely beyond the nearer tribal-states that might happen to be loyal to Lar Tane, and stepped to shore. Staggered, rather, into a shore village.
“Your best horse,” he demanded hoarsely, of the first man. Taken before the chief, Perry croaked again: “Your best horse!”
“I give commands, not hear them,” rumbled the chief. “What wandering madman are you—”
“It’s Perry, Lord of Earth!” gasped one of his men, penetrating the grime and haggardness that rode the stranger. “He escaped from captivity by Lar Tane!”
Perry cut off the exclamation of awe and excitement.
“Yes. Now tell me, is any of my army—left?”
The chief nodded.
“We heard that most of it rebanded in the hills preparing to attack again. Aran Deen leads them.”
“Defense not attack!” Perry groaned. “Where’s that horse?”
“But Lord Perry, you’re worn out—” Perry refused to believe it till he leaped astride, and collapsed in the saddle. He hadn’t slept, except for nightmarish snatches in prison, for four nights. After sleeping half the clock around, at the chief’s house, he was off.
He passed through three tribal-states, killing two horses, and changing five times before he reached his army, already on the march.
ARAN DEEN’S rheumy old eyes blinked as Perry galloped up.
“Perry!”
he shrilled out. “It can’t be you!”
He shrugged his bony shoulders. “Well, it is you. I reformed the army. Told them we must rescue you. They are ready to fight, as never before, with that spirit to drive them.”
He looked around, half whimsically. “Perhaps we should keep you hidden!”
But already the news was sweeping the ranks that Perry, their leader, had returned. Cheers arose. Perry’s heart leaped. It was good to know that despite the series of losses, his men were still behind him. Ear Tane had not yet won his world.
Perry noticed fleetingly that here and there a “Hall, Stirnye!” sounded, without being taken up. He had done nothing to win that “title” of his father’s yet.
“I’m glad you’re back,” Aran Deen said suddenly, grasping Perry’s hand and pressing it fervently. “When you were a little boy, you often drove me distracted like this, wandering somewhere alone—”
He glared belligerently, at Perry’s smile, and again became phlegmatic.
“Glad for the simple reason that leading an army is not to my taste. With you to lead again, we’ll smash through—”
“No!” Perry shook his head violently. “Not attack. Defense is what we need now!”
“Defense!” Aran Deen screeched. “Perry, has that green-eyed witch taken all the spirit out of you?”
At that moment a drone sounded from the sky.
Perry glanced anxiously to the north. Lar Tane’s twelve planes zoomed down like mechanical eagles. In a wide line, they swept over the stalled army. But not to rake it with heat-blasts. Instead, as though struck by invisible lightning, men dropped here and there. No arrow, no spear—nothing visible leaped from the ships. But men dropped.
“Bullets!” groaned Perry. “Bullets from the steam-guns.”
Whirling, he shouted orders for the army to break for cover, every man for himself. As the army straggled in all directions, toward the nearest clumps of trees and bushes, the planes looped and executed their maneuver a dozen more times. More men fell, though less as they scattered.
Perry saw the shining snouts attached to the planes’ noses. Listening intently, he made out the hissing barks of the weapons. They were not rapid-fire machine-guns. Merely mounted rifles. Only a few dozen men fell, altogether. A first field test of the guns, nothing more.
