Land of Terror p-6

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by Edgar Rice Burroughs


  "Who are you?" demanded one. "And what do you want here?"

  "I am a visitor from Gamba," I said. "I have come to join my friend, Zor, who is visiting Meeza, the king."

  They conferred in whispers for awhile; and, finally, the one who had originally addressed me, spoke again. "How do we know you are from Gamba?" he demanded.

  "Because I am a friend of Zor," I replied; "and he is from Gamba."

  "That sounds reasonable," said one of them. "What is your name?"

  "Innes," I replied, using my surname.

  "'In-ess,' " the fellow repeated. "That is a strange name; so you must be from Gamba."

  The others nodded their heads, sagely. "There is no doubt about it," said another; "he is from Gamba."

  "I do not like the looks of it," said a third. "He has no spear. No man could travel safely all the way from Gamba with only a knife."

  Evidently the fellow had a little more sense than his companions, for his objection was clean and to the point.

  "That is right," said the original speaker. "You have no spear, and therefore you cannot be from Gamba."

  "I tell you he is from Gamba," shouted another.

  "Then where's his spear?" demanded the bright one, confidently.

  "I lost it back on the plains, before I entered the forest," I explained. "I was hungry and would have eaten; but when I hurled my spear into an antelope, he turned and ran off with it. That, my wonderful friends, is what became of my spear. Come, let me in, or Meeza will be angry."

  "Well," said the captain of the gate, "I think you're all right. I've thought so right along. You may come into the village. Where do you want to go?"

  "I want to go to the palace of Meeza , the king," I replied.

  "Why do you want to go there?" he demanded.

  "Because that is where my friend, Zor, is."

  Then the bright one had an idea. "How do you know he's there," he demanded, "if you just came from Gamba?"

  "Yes," demanded all the others, practically in chorus; "how do you know he's there?"

  "I don't know he's there; but-"

  "Ah-ah. He admits he doesn't know. He has come here for some bad purpose, and should be killed."

  "Wait a minute!" I exclaimed. "You didn't let me finish. I said I didn't know that he was there; but I do know that he came to visit Meeza; and so, naturally, I assume that he is in Meeza's palace."

  "Excellent reasoning," said the captain of the gate. "You may come in."

  "Send someone to the palace with me," I said to the captain; "so that they will know that I am all right, and will let me in to see my friend, Zor."

  To my annoyance, he detailed the suspicious one; and the two of us set off together through the narrow alleyways toward the palace. The scenes in the insane city were much the same as those I had witnessed at the time that I had first arrived, indescribably lunatic, grotesque or bestial, according to the mood of each actor; and in the plaza before the palace, the priests were still turning cartwheels around Ogar, the god of the Jukans.

  My guide was still suspicious of me and did not hesitate to inform me of the fact. "I think you are an impostor and a liar," he said, "and I do not believe that you are from Gamba or that you have a friend named Zor."

  "It is very strange," I said, "that you should think that."

  "Why?" he demanded.

  "Because you are, by far, the most intelligent man I have ever met, and so you should know that I am speaking the truth."

  I could see that he was flattered for he preened himself and strutted a little before he made any reply; then he said, "Of course, I am intelligent; but you are very stupid. If you had not been, you would have known that I was joking all the time. Of course, I knew from the start that you were from Gamba."

  "You are a very amusing fellow," I said. "You have a wonderful sense of humor. I am certain, now, that I shall have no difficulty in entering the palace and finding my friend, since I have a man of such high standing and great intelligence as you for my friend."

  "You will have no trouble whatsoever," he assured me, "since I shall take you into the palace myself, and directly to the king's quarters."

  Well, the fellow was as good as his word. He seemed to be well known and far more important than I had imagined, for the guard at the palace passed us immediately; and once more I entered the room where Goofo had received Zor and me. There was a new major-domo there, but he paid no attention to us. He appeared to be a victim of hypochondria, for he sat on the floor weeping copiously. One of the rules of the palace was that the major-domo question everyone who entered. We could not proceed farther without his permission.

  "I can't be bothered," said the major-domo, when my guide asked this permission. "I am a very sick man, very, very sick."

  "What's the matter with you?" I asked.

  "Nothing," he said, "and that's the trouble. I am just sick of nothing."

  "You are in a very bad state," I said.

  He glanced up at me with a look of animation. "Do you really believe so?" he said.

  "There's no doubt about it," I assured him.

  "Where did you say you wanted to go?" he asked.

  "I have to come to visit my friend, Zor, who is the guest of Meeza, the king."

  "Then what are you waiting for?" he demanded, angrily. "Get out of here and leave me alone;" so my guide and I passed on out of the chamber.

  "Sometimes I think he is crazy," said my guide. "Most people are."

  "I wonder if he could be," I replied.

  As we passed near the kitchen where Kleeto had worked, we met her face-to-face in the corridor. She looked squarely at me but without the faintest indication of recognition. I wondered if my disguise was that effective or if Kleeto had just been too bright to show that she recognized me.

  As we proceeded farther into the palace, my guide moved more and more slowly. Something seemed to be troubling him, and at last it came out.

  "Perhaps you had better go on alone from here," he said.

  "I don't know where to go," I replied. "Why can't you come with me?"

  "Many strange things have been happening in the palace," he replied "and Meeza may not be so glad to see a stranger."

  "What has happened?" I asked.

  "Well for one thing, Moko, the king's son, has disappeared; so has the beautiful Sarian girl who was to be sacrificed to Ogar; then there was a prisoner named David, who disappeared. His hands were tied behind him, and he was locked up in a cell. He also was to have been sacrificed to Ogar; but when they went to the cell to get him, he had disappeared."

  "How very strange!" I exclaimed. "Haven't they any idea what became of him, or of Moko, or of the girl from Sari?"

  "Not the slightest," he replied; "but Bruma will find out what became of them, as soon as he finds another sacrifice for Ogar; then Ogar will tell him."

  "I shouldn't think Bruma would have any difficulty finding a sacrifice," I said.

  "Well, he has to have a very special one," replied my guide. "It should be a man who is not a Jukan, or, perhaps, a Jukan from another village;" then he turned suddenly and looked at me strangely. I didn't have to ask, to know what was in his mind.

  Chapter XIII

  I HAD plenty on my mind as we approached the quarters of Meeza. I think I must have felt something like a condemned man who is hoping that a higher court will order a new trial, or the governor issue him a pardon. There was about that much hope, and that was about all there was. The looks that that fellow had given me seemed to have sealed my doom, for if the thought had occurred to him, it would certainly occur to Bruma, who was looking for a victim. He kept looking at me with that funny, wild expression in his eyes; and presently he said, "I think Ogar will be pleased with you."

  "I hope so," I replied.

  "Right ahead of us lie the quarters of Meeza," he said. "Perhaps we shall find Bruma there."

  "Well," I said, "thank you for bringing me here. If you feel you might get in trouble for bringing a stranger to the king'
s quarters, you may leave me now, for I can find my way alone."

  "Oh, no," he said. "I shall go all the way with you because I am sure that you will be very welcome and that I shall be praised for bringing you."

  Presently we entered a large room in which were many people. At the far end was a platform upon which Meeza was seated. The king was flanked on either side by some ten or twelve husky warriors, there to protect him against any of his subjects who might suddenly develop a homicidal mania. Although Meeza wore no crown, other than his feather headdress, I am sure that his head was not only uneasy but extremely insecure.

  In the center of the room, a man was standing with his arms in a grotesque position; and his features were contorted into an expression of fiendish malevolence. My guide indicated him with a nod of his head and a wink, as he nudged me in the ribs with his elbow.

  "He's crazy," he said. "He thinks he is Ogar's brother."

  "And he's not?" I asked.

  "Don't be a fool," snapped my guide. "He's crazy. I am Ogar's brother."

  "Oh," I said. "He's very crazy, indeed."

  The man certainly presented a most startling appearance, standing absolutely rigid, not a muscle moving, his eyes staring straight ahead. Presently a man ran forward and commenced to turn cartwheels around him. My guide nudged me again. "He's crazy, too," he said.

  No one seemed to pay any attention either to the gentleman with delusions of grandeur or his whirling satellite. I could not help but think, as I watched these two, how close to the borderline of insanity some of the so-called great men of the outer crust must have been, for certainly many of them have appeared to be motivated by delusions of grandeur; and you doubtless will be able to think of several of your own time who loved to strike poses.

  "Ah," said my guide. "There is Bruma now." Suddenly he appeared very excited. He seized me by the arm and dragged me across the floor toward a fat, greasy-looking individual with a feather headdress fully as large as that worn by Meeza but consisting of black feathers instead of white.

  My guide grew more and more excited as we approached Bruma. I racked my brain for some plan of escape from my dilemma; but things looked pretty black for me, with, as far as I could see, not a single chance for escape. Trembling with excitement, the fellow dragged me into Bruma's presence.

  "Here, Bruma," he cried, "is a-"

  That was as far as he got. Suddenly he stiffened, his eyes rolled up and set, and he pitched forward to the floor at Bruma's feet, in the throes of an epileptic fit. As he lay there, jerking spasmodically and frothing at the mouth, Bruma looked inquiringly at me.

  "What did he want?" he demanded.

  "He was about to say, 'Here is a good friend of mine, who is looking for a man named Zor,'" I replied.

  "And who are you?" he asked.

  "I am Napoleon Bonaparte," I replied.

  Bruma shook his head. "I never heard of you," be said. "Zor is over there, near the king; but I still think he would make a good sacrifice for Ogar."

  "And Meeza doesn't think so?" I asked.

  "No," replied Bruma, emphatically; then he leaned close to me and whispered "Meeza is crazy."

  My guide was still enjoying his fit, which was a lucky break for me, as it probably would give me time to find Zor and get out of there before he regained consciousness; so I left Bruma and walked over toward the throne.

  It didn't take me long to find Zor; and, though I went and stood directly in front of him, he did not recognize me. People with whom he had been talking were standing near, and I did not dare reveal my identity in their presence.

  Finally, I touched him on the arm. "Come with me a minute," I said. "There is a friend of yours over here, who wants to see you for a minute."

  "What friend?" he demanded.

  "The friend with whom you worked in the garden of Gluck ," I replied.

  "You are trying to trap me," he said. "That man is gone forever, unless he is recaptured. He certainly wouldn't be fool enough to come back here of his own volition."

  "He is here," I said in a whisper. "Come with me, Zor."

  He hesitated. What could I do? I knew that he was suspicious of all these people and that he might think this a ruse to get him off somewhere, out of sight for a moment, and murder him. The Jukans are that way. However, I could not reveal my identity while there were so many people within earshot of even a whisper. I glanced back at my guide. No one was paying any attention to him; but he seemed to be recovering from his seizure. I knew that I should have to do something quickly now before the fellow regained consciousness. As I raised my eyes from the prostrate form of my former guide, I saw Bruma's gaze fixed upon me, and then I saw him start toward me across the floor; then I turned back to Zor.

  "You must come with me," I said; "and you must know that I am speaking the truth, for how else would I know about the garden of Gluck ?"

  "That is right," said Zor. "I did not think of that. Where do you want me to go?"

  "Back to get Kleeto," I said in a whisper.

  He looked at me very intently then, and presently his eyes widened a little.

  "I am a fool," he said; "come." But I couldn't come for just then Bruma confronted us.

  "Where is this Napolapart from?" he asked Zor. Zor looked puzzled. "Your friend, Napolapart," insisted Bruma.

  "I never heard of anybody by that name," said Zor.

  "Ah-ah, an impostor," said Bruma, glaring at me. "This man, Napolapart, said that he was a friend of yours."

  "You misunderstood me, Bruma," I interrupted. "I said my name was Napoleon Bonaparte."

  "Oh," said Zor. "Of course I know Napoleon Bonaparte very well. He is an old friend of mine."

  "There is something very familiar about his face," said Bruma. "I think I must have known him, too. Where have I known you, Napolapart?"

  "I have never been here before," I said.

  "Where are you from then?" he demanded.

  "From Gamba," I replied.

  "Excellent!" exclaimed Bruma, "Just the man I am looking for as a sacrifice to Ogar."

  Now here was a pretty mess, and mighty disheartening, too, with my plan right on the verge of success. What could I do? I had heard that crazy people should be humored; but how could I humor Bruma?

  Chapter XIV

  I AM NOT inclined to panics; but the situation in which I now found myself tended to induce that state to a greater degree than any other which I can recall in my long experience in this savage world of danger.

  Here I was, in a palace from which I could not find my way without a guide, surrounded by maniacs, all of whom were potential enemies; but the most terrifying feature of the situation lay in the fact that Dian would most assuredly be lost were I not able to return to her. I reproached myself for thus jeopardizing her safety for two who really had no hold upon my loyalty, other than that dictated by a sense of decency and common humanity. Right then, I would have sacrificed them both without a single qualm of conscience, could I, by such means, have returned to Dian. I realized that I had over-estimated both my luck and my cunning. The former seemed to have deserted me and the latter was about to be nullified by the still more cunning minds of madmen. Finally, I decided to try to bluff it through. I knew that Zor would be with me if it came to a fight; and I also knew that if we should try to fight our way from the palace, the reactions of the Jukans were unpredictable. I drew my knife and looked Bruma straight in the eyes.

  "You are not going to sacrifice me to Ogar," I said in a loud tone of voice that attracted the attention of all around us, including Meeza, the king.

  "Why?" demanded Bruma.

  "Because I am a guest of Meeza," I replied, "and I demand his protection."

  "Who is this man?" cried the king.

  "His name is Napolapart," replied Bruma, "and he comes from Gamba. I shall sacrifice him to Ogar; so that Ogar will tell us what has become of Moko, your son."

  I was facing away from Meeza at the time, because I was looking at Bruma and listening to him.
Beyond the crowd I could see the doorway leading into the throne room. The backs of nearly all except those on the dais upon which Meeza sat were toward the door, and the attention of those on the dais was riveted upon Bruma and me; thus I was the only one to see a cadaverous figure stagger from the corridor and lean weakly against the frame of the doorway.

  "Will Ogar tell us where Moko is, if you offer this sacrifice to him?" demanded Meeza of Bruma.

  "If the sacrifice is acceptable to Ogar, he will tell us," replied the high priest. "If it is not acceptable, we shall have to try another."

  I turned toward Meeza. "You do not need Ogar to tell you where Moko is," I said, "for I can tell you. Will you let Zor and me go in peace, if I tell you?"

  "Yes," said the king.

  I turned and pointed toward the doorway. "There is Moko," I said.

  All eyes turned in the direction I had pointed to see Moko stagger forward into the room. He looked like a cadaver temporarily endowed with the power of locomotion. His body and his extremities were very thin, and his body was literally covered with blood that had dried and caked upon it from a now partially healed wound below his heart.

  So I hadn't killed Moko, after all; and now, by an ironical trick of Fate, he had come back, perhaps to save me. I watched him stagger across the room to Meeza's throne, where he sank to the floor, exhausted.

  "Where have you been?" demanded the king. There was nothing in his voice that denoted paternal affection or sympathy.

  Weak, gasping for breath, Moko replied in a feeble whisper, "He tried to kill me. When I regained consciousness, I was in darkness for he had dragged me into the corridor of which only the king and his son have knowledge. He was gone, and with him the girl from Sari."

  "Who was he?" demanded Meeza.

  "I do not know," replied Moko.

  "It must have been the man, David, who escaped from the cell in which he was confined," suggested Bruma.

  "We shall find them," said Meeza. "Send warriors out to search the forest for them, and search in the great cave in the Ravine of the Kings."

  Immediately warriors started for the door, and Zor and I joined them. I do not believe that Bruma saw us go, as his attention was fixed upon Moko over whom he was chanting some weird jargon, doubtless something in the nature of a healing incantation.

 

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