There was pandemonium among the ranks of Karakhor. Horses bolted with their chariots and warriors fled or fell screaming. The mighty elephants trumpeted in alarm, turning away and toppling their burdens of praying priests to the ground. Prince Rajar found himself bruised and choking in the dust, while his chariot and that of his brother Nirad vanished back toward the city. Those who stood fast held their plunging horses with difficulty as the sound and heat of the terrifying spectacle washed over them.
Raven half-turned and extended his left hand. There he pointed toward a low hill, and the agonized watchers saw the top of the hill sliced clean away by a second shaft of white-hot light. More men and horses panicked, and more threw themselves prostrate on the earth.
Behind the spaceship was a belt of young forests and there Raven pointed for the third time. Taron fired a third lazer blast and incinerated half the forest. A fearsome tunnel of fire sped through the shriveling trees, and then the flames began to roar hungrily and eat their way through the forest on either side.
The demonstration was over. The proud banners of Karakhor were scattered and demoralized. A dozen chariots were overturned and it would take days to re-capture the stampeded elephants. Those who had held their ground could only stand dumbly now and wait.
Briskly Thorn, Garl and Landis, descended from the ship to join their commander. Raven led them forward to where only a handful of chariots now waited. He looked at the frozen faces of the men, and then at the white face of the woman. She had held firm when all but the boldest of her menfolk had fled, and she was both ripe and beautiful. He noted her soft, awe-filled eyes, the high-held chin, and the full-curved heave of her bosom. Here was a woman who might make worthy sport, even for a Sword Lord. He stepped up beside her, took the reins from her faltering hands, and then turned the horses to race the chariot back to the city.
Thorn had calmly climbed up beside Jahan. Garl and Landis took their places in the chariots of Sanjay and Devan. The warmaster general and royal princes exchanged doubtful glances, and then accepted their passengers without question. They, too, wheeled their chariots to follow Raven and Maryam.
As they passed through the walls of the city, Maryam dared to look up into the hard but handsome blue face of the man beside her. Raven chose that moment to glance down and he could afford a smile to calm her trembling.
Maryam returned the smile and touched the firm blue hand that held the reins. It was warm. He was warm-blooded after all, perhaps a god in human form. She felt weak but there was an overpowering excitement swelling up within her breast, almost smothering the painfully rapid beating of her heart.
God or man, he was clearly far more powerful than all ordinary men, perhaps more so than all ordinary gods. And he had chosen her. He rode beside her as though they were god and consort. Now, at last, she knew exactly where her duty and her destiny lay. A union with this leader-of-gods would atone for all the trouble she had caused by rejecting Sardar, and would more than satisfy her duty to her father and her people. An alliance with these super-beings from the sky would give Karakhor far more power and security than any petty joining with Maghalla.
Oh, Kananda, she thought passionately, I wish that you could see me now.
At that precise moment in time, Kananda had more pressing problems on his mind. He stood by the Alphan Tri-Thruster with Zela and Kaseem, listening to the bad news that had just been brought to him by the young lords Kasim and Gujar. His brother Ramesh was missing, along with a dozen other young men, and their absence had just been discovered.
“They must have left secretly, of their own free will.” Gujar offered his opinion cautiously. “They could not have been taken from the camp without an alarm being raised. Also it cannot be coincidence that the missing men are all close companions of the Prince Ramesh, together with his personal guard.”
“Damn him for a foolish young cub,” Kananda said angrily. “Where would he go?”
“I think our head huntsman can answer you.” Kasim pushed the man forward as he spoke. Hamir shuffled his feet and bowed his bare head. His green helmet twisted anxiously in his hands.
“Speak!” Kananda ordered.
“Sire, Prince Ramesh came to me two days ago. He asked me to lead him and his companions on a hunt of their own. I told him I would gladly do so if you sanctioned the hunt, but that without your sanction I could not. Prince Ramesh was very angry, but said no more.” The man hesitated and then finished nervously, “Now I have learned that one of my assistants is with the missing party.”
“He has gone on his own tiger hunt.” Kaseem wrung his wrinkled hands in priestly anguish. “I should have forseen this. Prince Ramesh is impatient and reckless. I knew he fretted. May the gods forgive me.”
“We must go after them.” Kananda’s gaze was still fixed on the huntsman. “Which way would they go?”
“My assistant is familiar with good tiger country to the south of here. I think he will lead them in that direction.”
“So, they head closer to the wild lands,” Kananda said grimly. “We must catch them quickly, before they run into trouble.” He put his hand on Gujar’s shoulder. “Our elephants will be too slow. I would borrow your horse, my friend, and take another small party for speed. You will take command here in my absence, defer only to Kaseem.”
“I would sooner go with you,” Gujar said loyally. “But your will is my command.”
Kananda smiled, and punched him lightly on the shoulder. Then he turned to Kasim. “Gather the horsemen, and for foot soldiers we will take only a dozen of the strongest runners.” His attention fell again on the head huntsman. “How fast can you run?”
“As fast as any man, sire. And I will run until I drop.”
“Then you will track for us. Make ready.”
The men dispersed to saddle the horses and don their weapons. Kananda buckled on his own dagger and sword. Then Zela touched his arm and said calmly, “If you can spare me one of your horses, I will come with you.”
Kananda stared into her deep blue eyes. She gazed back at him, unflinching.
“There could be danger,” he said uncertainly. “The monkey tribes are savages but there are many of them. We ride toward their country and a smaller party may tempt them to attack.”
“We fought the tiger together,” she reminded him.
“The tiger attacked us both. But why this? For you there is no need.”
“There is our friendship,” Zela said softly. And her eyes said much more.
Kananda laughed then and called for a horse for her to mount. Zela called Kyle and ordered him to bring her own sword and lazer. Blair was close and frowned a little.
“Is this wise, Commander?”
Zela smiled at his concern. “It is a politically sound decision. We have made much progress here and it could all be lost if Prince Kananda fails to return. That would be a foolish waste when a single lazer shot could settle any conflict that might arise on this planet. I can provide good insurance for our friends with little risk.”
Blair was not fooled. He had noted that his commander and the Hindu prince had taken far more pleasure in each other’s company than was politically necessary. He had noted the growing intimacy of their smiles and the exchanged looks and body signals. With every day that passed, they touched more often, and the moments of touching became more lingering.
“Be careful,” he advised. But he refrained from designating those areas in which he felt that she needed to take extra care.
They rode hard for three hours, the horsemen scouting ahead in all directions, but then they had to stop and rest the running men. Kananda was sorely tempted to race ahead with his mounted companions, but Hamir could only track at ground level, and without him they might miss the trail altogether. It was only from the signs that his keen eyes could read that they could be confident that they had not already gone astray.
They dismounted and Kananda sat with his back to a tree, his right leg stretched out full length and throbbing dully. The wound
from the tiger’s claws had healed, but this was the most severe test he had yet given it. He drank sparingly from his leather water bottle and then offered it to Zela. She too drank slowly, like a seasoned soldier, and handed it back after the second swallow. “How long before we can hope to catch them?” she asked as she sat beside him.
Kananda shrugged. “It depends upon how fast Ramesh moves and how much distance he feels he needs between us before he stops to hunt. He must have at least half a day’s start.”
Zela made herself comfortable, unselfconsciously sliding down the zip of her suit to allow the cooling air to circulate around her bare breasts and beneath her damp armpits. Kananda sought to avert his gaze and looked instead at the sword on her hip. It was the first time he had seen her with such a familiar weapon.
“I thought your people only fought with lightning bolts,” he said curiously.
“For many centuries my people fought with swords and other weapons similar to your own,” Zela told him. “Today, for many Alphans, the sword is but a ceremonial weapon, but a few of us are skilled in its use. Among the Gheddans, the sword is the only true weapon of honour and only a single combat sword kill holds genuine prestige. That is why some Alphans still practise with the sword—to be able to meet a Gheddan on equal terms and fight at their level.”
“This seems strange when you have the lightning bolts.” Kananda saw that some of the runners still needed to catch their wind and continued: “Tell me more about Alpha and Ghedda. If they remained unknown to each other for so long, then how did they come to discover each other?”
“Dooma has three moons of different sizes and in different orbits,” Zela told him. “And so the great oceans that divide our two continents are subject to violent tides and tidal waves. They are also ravaged by fierce magnetic storms. Because the oceans are so unpredictable and dangerous, Alpha and Ghedda were kept apart. Our ships did not dare to venture far from the safety of the continental shores. It was not until we built large ships and developed fire and steam as a means of propulsion more reliable than wind-driven sails that Alphan navigators first discovered the continent of Ghedda.”
She smiled ruefully. ‘That was only a few hundred years ago, and it would have been better if they had left that barbaric place undiscovered. Once the Sword Lords of Ghedda realized that our planet held another continent, one that was rich in wealth and soft and ripe with peace, they began immediate plans for conquest. A mighty Gheddan war fleet was put together and sailed to loot, rape and enslave us. The natural barriers of the ocean depleted the Gheddan war ships, but many of them got through. The survivors were defeated in battle off the coast of Alpha, but at a terrible cost.”
“And all this was before you developed the lightning bolts?”
Zela nodded. “May God forgive us, but it was the threat from Ghedda that pushed forward the development of more and more fearsome weapons. Our scientists saw an urgent need for self preservation and defence. They discovered the power of explosives for propelling vehicles and firing weapons. Then they discovered atomic power. And then nuclear power. Next came thermonuclear bombs and missiles, and nuclear-pulse rocket engines. And finally the lazer-beam energy weapons that you call lightning bolts.”
Again her talk included many words that had no equivalent in Hindu, but Kananda had grasped the concept of growing power, even though it was in forms that he did not understand. “With all this power, surely you could destroy these Sword Lords and their land of Ghedda?”
“There were times when such action might have been possible, when we were far enough ahead in the arms race to have made a first strike that would have devastated their homeland. But it was not our way. We had found peace and a belief in one God. We believe that the Gheddans are also children of that God. Many missionaries sailed alone or in small groups to Ghedda, but those who reached those savage shores were almost all killed in sport by the inhabitants. What we had failed to perceive was that the Gheddans had no belief in God, in any form or forms, nor did they believe in any spiritual realm. It is true that their ancient history spoke of religious wars and conflicts much the same as ours, but in time they had come to the opposite belief—that there is no god, and that any such belief is just the refuge of the mentally crippled and the weak. Ghedda has believed for two thousand years that all that we are becomes extinct at the moment of death, and so for them, the only meaning of life is to squeeze out of it as much personal power and pleasure as is possible while it is there.”
“But now that you know the godlessness of Ghedda—surely now you can destroy them?”
“Now it is too late, for Ghedda is as powerful as Alpha. The Gheddans have always been far more experienced in the arts of warfare, espionage and deceit. Alphan scientists have made all the important advances of the past three hundred years, but Ghedda has always been able to steal them or obtain them in some other manner. Many of our greatest scientists and thinkers have believed that we hold a moral responsibility, given by God, to share the peaceful benefits of each new technological step with Ghedda. It is only by trusting the Gheddans, so they have argued, that we can help them to learn to trust us. So in many cases our secrets have been given away.”
Zela paused, and her faced mirrored a confusion of inner feelings, ranging from anger and disgust to sorrow and despair. Then she concluded, “Ghedda has always been behind Alpha in the arms race, but now we are in a nightmare situation where both sides hold an arsenal of weapons so powerful that to use them would cause the total destruction of the entire planet. Our scientists have calculated that if only the weapons of one side were used, then the chain reaction of released energy would rip Dooma apart. Where our proud planet now orbits the sun, there would only be a smoking belt of asteroids and radio-active rubble revolving between the fourth and sixth planets of this solar system.”
“You could destroy your world?” Kananda was shocked, and despite the hot sun, he felt cold at the thought.
Zela nodded. “That is one of the reasons why we wish to make friends here on Earth. Alpha will never use those weapons but we fear the Gheddans will. So we pray that you may make the survivors of our race welcome, if the madness on Dooma should ever reach the suicidal peaks of planetary oblivion.”
Kananda stared into her face. “You are welcome,” he said. “In Golden Karakhor where I shall one day rule.” He still believed her a goddess, but boldness had been growing in him and at last he dared to reach for her and hold her close. For the first time they were free of the ever-watchful presence of Blair or Kaseem, and for the first time she seemed vulnerable to him. Zela leaned against him and it seemed that their hearts beat in unison. She raised her face to him, her gaze searching his, and then slowly their lips met. It was a brief kiss, uncertain and half-fearing on each side. Then her mouth softened under the pleasurable contact and moved sensuously against his own. In that moment of time, Kananda knew that this was ordained and approved by all the gods in heaven.
After a moment, they separated. There was work to be done and there were still too many of their companions too close for comfort.
“We should be thinking of finding Ramesh,” Zela said reluctantly.
Kananda nodded and got to his feet. He swung up into the saddle of Gujar’s horse and gave orders. The party moved forward once more. A few of the foot warriors grumbled but soon settled into a silent, loping run. They were crossing a broad plain of long grassland, scrub bushes and patches of low trees. It was possible tiger country, but the signs indicated that Ramesh had still been travelling fast when he passed this way.
The trail continued south, toward a blue blur of distant hills that darkened into thickening forest and black mountains. They were leaving the frontiers of Karakhor and pressing toward the untamed wild lands.
Chapter Six
They caught up with the hunting party late in the afternoon of the second day, where the land broke up into low, jungle-clad hills on the very edge of the black forest. In a shallow valley between two of the hills, they f
ound the first body. One of the young lords who had ridden with Ramesh lay in a crumpled sprawl, with sightless eyes staring up at the sky. A spear blade had pierced his heart and his throat had been cut. The carrion birds that had led them to the spot circled overhead, crying angrily at the interruption.
Kananda looked down from his horse and felt sick in his stomach. He had feared the worst and it had happened. They were too late. Emotion tore at his heart and battered at the portals of his mind, but he knew he had to maintain a clear head. He sucked in a deep breath to hold down the waves of anger, grief and frustration. Then he rose to his full height in the saddle to survey the landscape all around. They had been moving with ever-increasing caution and this was no time to relax.
There was nothing to be seen or heard except the circling vultures, and yet Kananda sensed that they were not alone. He lowered himself back into his saddle and said grimly, “We will dismount to search this area. A man on horseback is too easy a target. But we will stay in one group. No man is to move out of sight of the rest of us. And be prepared to defend yourselves at any instant.”
The horse-riders dismounted and the majority of the party drew their swords. A few of the soldiers chose to unsling their bows and notch an arrow in readiness. All of them had been wearing arm shields since the start of the day.
Zela hesitated a second and then drew her sword in preference to her hand lazer. The lightning bolts, as Kananda chose to call them, were best held in reserve.
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