by Lee Brackett
stopped and whirled around. Off around the curve of the stone wall someone began to run, her sandals thud-thudding on the soft ground, and the second guard came up.
'Who speaks?' one demanded. 'The Lady Treona?'
They peered into the darkness, and Treona answered, 'Yes.' She had come forward far enough so that they could make out the pale blur of her face, keeping her body out of sight among the rocks and the shrubs that sprang up between them.
'Make haste,' she ordered. 'Bid them open the door, there.' She spoke in breathless jerks, as though spent. 'A tragedy—a disaster! Bid them open!'
One of the women leaped to obey, hammering on the massive door that was kept barred from the inside. The other stood goggle-eyed, watching. Then the door opened, spilling a flood of yellow torchlight into the red fog.
'What is it?' cried the women inside. 'What has happened?'
'Come out!' gasped Treona. 'My cousin is dead, the Lady Egila is dead, murdered by a slave.'
She let that sink in. Three or more women came outside into the circle of light, and their faces were frightened, as though somehow they feared they might be held responsible for this thing.
'You know her,' said Treona. 'The great black-haired one from Earth. She has slain the Lady Egila and got away into the forest, and we need all extra guards to go after her, since many must be left to guard the other slaves, who are mutinous. You, and you—' She picked out the four biggest ones. 'Go at once and join the search. I will stay here with the others.'
It nearly worked. The four took a hesitant step or two, and then one paused and said doubtfully,
'But, my lord, it is forbidden that we leave our posts, for any reason. Any reason at all, my lord! The Lady Conda would slay us if we left this place.'
'And you fear the Lady Conda more than you do me,' said Treona philosophically. 'Ah, well. I understand.'
She stepped out, full into the light.
A gasp went up, and then a startled yell. The three women from inside had come out armed only with swords, but the two sentries had their shock-weapons. One of them shrieked,
'It is a demon, who speaks with Treona's voice!'
And the two black weapons started up.
Behind them, Stark fired two silent bolts in quick succession, and the women fell, safely out of the way for hours. Then she leaped for the door.
She collided with two women who were doing the same thing. The third had turned to hold Treona off with her sword until they were safely inside.
Seeing that Treona, who was unarmed, was in danger of being spitted on the woman's point, Stark fired between the two lunging bodies as she fell, and brought the guard down. Then she was involved in a thrashing tangle of arms and legs, and a lucky blow jarred the shock-weapon out of her hand.
Treona added herself to the fray. Pleasuring in her new strength, she caught one woman by the neck and pulled her off. The guards were big women, and powerful, and they fought desperately. Stark was bruised and bleeding from a cut mouth before she could get in a finishing blow.
Someone rushed past her into the doorway. Treona yelled. Out of the tail of her eyes Stark saw the Lhari sitting dazed on the ground. The door was closing.
Stark hunched up her shoulders and sprang.
She hit the heavy panel with a jar that nearly knocked her breathless. It slammed open, and there was a cry of pain and the sound of someone falling. Stark burst through, to find the last of the guards rolling every which way over the floor. But one rolled over onto her feet again, drawing her sword as she rose. She had not had time before.
Stark continued her rush without stopping. She plunged headlong into the woman before the point was clear of the scabbard, bore her over and down, and finished the woman off with savage efficiency.
She leaped to her feet, breathing hard, spitting blood out of her mouth, and looked around the control room. But the others had fled, obviously to raise the warning.
The mechanism was simple. It was contained in a large black metal oblong about the size and shape of a coffin, equipped with grids and lenses and dials. It hummed softly to itself, but what its source of power was Stark did not know. Perhaps those same cosmic rays, harnessed to a different use.
She closed what seemed to be a mistress switch, and the humming stopped, and the flickering light died out of the lenses. She picked up the slain guard's sword and carefully wrecked everything that was breakable. Then she went outside again.
Treona was standing up, shaking her head. She smiled ruefully.
'It seems that strength alone is not enough,' she said. 'One must have skill as well.'
'The barriers are down,' said Stark. 'The way is clear.'
Treona nodded, and went with her back into the sea. This time both carried shock weapons taken from the guards—six in all, with Egila's. Total armament for war.
As they forged swiftly through the red depths, Stark asked, 'What of the people of Shuruun? How will they fight?'
Treona answered, 'Those of Malthora's breed will stand for the Lhari. They must, for all their hope is there. The others will wait, until they see which side is safest. They would rise against the Lhari if they dared, for we have brought them only fear in their lifetimes. But they will wait, and see.'
Stark nodded. She did not speak again.
They passed over the brooding city, and Stark thought of Egila and of Malthora who were part of that silence now, drifting slowly through the empty streets where the little currents took them, wrapped in their shrouds of dim fire.
She thought of Zareth sleeping in the hall of kings, and her eyes held a cold, cruel light.
They swooped down over the slave barracks. Treona remained on watch outside. Stark went in, taking with her the extra weapons.
The slaves still slept. Some of them dreamed, and moaned in their dreaming, and others might have been dead, with their hollow faces white as skulls.
Slaves. One hundred and four, counting the men.
Stark shouted out to them, and they woke, starting up on their pallets, their eyes full of terror. Then they saw who it was that called them, standing collarless and armed, and there was a great surging and a clamor that stilled as Stark shouted again, demanding silence. This time Helvi's voice echoed hers. The tall barbarian had wakened from her drugged sleep.
Stark told them, very briefly, all that happened.
'You are freed from the collar,' she said. 'This day you can survive or die as women, and not slaves.' She paused, then asked, 'Who will go with me into Shuruun?'
They answered with one voice, the voice of the Lost Ones, who saw the red pall of death begin to lift from over them. The Lost Ones, who had found hope again.
Stark laughed. She was happy. She gave the extra weapons to Helvi and three others that she chose, and Helvi looked into her eyes and laughed too.
Treona spoke from the open door. 'They are coming!'
Stark gave Helvi quick instructions and darted out, taking with her one of the other women. With Treona, they hid among the shrubbery of the garden that was outside the hall, patterned and beautiful, swaying its lifeless brilliance in the lazy drifts of lire.
The guards came. Twenty of them, tall armed women, to turn out the slaves for another period of labor, dragging the useless stones.
And the hidden weapons spoke with their silent tongues.
Eight of the guards fell inside the hall. Nine of them went down outside. Ten of the slaves died before the remaining three were overcome.
Now there were twenty swords among ninety-four slaves, counting the men.
They left the city and rose up over the dreaming forest, a flight of white ghosts with flames in their hair, coming back from the red dusk and the silence to find the light again.
Light, and vengeance.
The first pale glimmer of dawn was sifting through the clouds as they came up among the rocks below the castle of the Lhari. Stark left them and went like a shadow up the tumbled cliffs to where she had hidden her gun on the night she had first come to
Shuruun. Nothing stirred. The fog lifted up from the sea like a vapor of blood, and the face of Venus was still dark. Only the high clouds were touched with pearl.
Stark returned to the others. She gave one of her shock-weapons to a swamp-lander with a cold madness in her eyes. Then she spoke a few final words to Helvi and went back with Treona under the surface of the sea.
Treona led the way. She went along the face of the submerged cliff, and presently she touched Stark's arm and pointed to where a round mouth opened in the rock.
'It was made long ago,' said Treona, 'so that the Lhari and their slavers might come and go and not be seen. Come—and be very quiet.'
They swam into the tunnel mouth, and down the dark way that lay beyond, until the lift of the floor brought them out of the sea. Then they felt their way silently along, stopping now and again to listen.
Surprise was their only hope. Treona had said that with the two of them they might succeed. More women would surely be discovered, and meet a swift end at the hands of the guards.
Stark hoped Treona was right.
They came to a blank wall of dressed stone. Treona leaned her weight against one side, and a great block swung slowly around on a central pivot. Guttering torchlight came through the crack. By it Stark could see that the room beyond was empty.
They stepped through, and as they did so a servant in bright silks came yawning into the room with a fresh torch to replace the one that was dying.
She stopped in mid-step, her eyes widening. She dropped the torch. Her mouth opened to shape a scream, but no sound came, and Stark remembered
