Delphi Collected Works of Edgar Rice Burroughs (Illustrated) (Series Four Book 26)

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  “You know him?” asked the other slave.

  “I have worked in the temple,” replied his companion.

  “Then go to him at once and tell him, but be sure to exact the promise of our freedom for the proof.”

  And so a black Waz-don came to the temple gate and asked to see Lu-don, the high priest, on a matter of great importance, and though the hour was late Lu-don saw him, and when he had heard his story he promised him and his friend not only their freedom but many gifts if they could prove the correctness of their claims.

  And as the slave talked with the high priest in the temple at A-lur the figure of a man groped its way around the shoulder of Pastar-ul-ved and the moonlight glistened from the shiny barrel of an Enfield that was strapped to the naked back, and brass cartridges shed tiny rays of reflected light from their polished cases where they hung in the bandoliers across the broad brown shoulders and the lean waist.

  Tarzan’s guide conducted him to a chamber overlooking the blue lake where he found a bed similar to that which he had seen in the villages of the Waz-don, merely a raised dais of stone upon which was piled great quantities of furry pelts. And so he lay down to sleep, the question that he most wished to put still unasked and unanswered.

  With the coming of a new day he was awake and wandering about the palace and the palace grounds before there was sign of any of the inmates of the palace other than slaves, or at least he saw no others at first, though presently he stumbled upon an enclosure which lay almost within the center of the palace grounds surrounded by a wall that piqued the ape-man’s curiosity, since he had determined to investigate as fully as possible every part of the palace and its environs.

  This place, whatever it might be, was apparently without doors or windows but that it was at least partially roofless was evidenced by the sight of the waving branches of a tree which spread above the top of the wall near him. Finding no other method of access, the ape-man uncoiled his rope and throwing it over the branch of the tree where it projected beyond the wall, was soon climbing with the ease of a monkey to the summit.

  There he found that the wall surrounded an enclosed garden in which grew trees and shrubs and flowers in riotous profusion. Without waiting to ascertain whether the garden was empty or contained Ho-don, Waz-don, or wild beasts, Tarzan dropped lightly to the sward on the inside and without further loss of time commenced a systematic investigation of the enclosure.

  His curiosity was aroused by the very evident fact that the place was not for general use, even by those who had free access to other parts of the palace grounds and so there was added to its natural beauties an absence of mortals which rendered its exploration all the more alluring to Tarzan since it suggested that in such a place might he hope to come upon the object of his long and difficult search.

  In the garden were tiny artificial streams and little pools of water, flanked by flowering bushes, as though it all had been designed by the cunning hand of some master gardener, so faithfully did it carry out the beauties and contours of nature upon a miniature scale.

  The interior surface of the wall was fashioned to represent the white cliffs of Pal-ul-don, broken occasionally by small replicas of the verdure-filled gorges of the original.

  Filled with admiration and thoroughly enjoying each new surprise which the scene offered, Tarzan moved slowly around the garden, and as always he moved silently. Passing through a miniature forest he came presently upon a tiny area of flowerstudded sward and at the same time beheld before him the first Ho-don female he had seen since entering the palace. A young and beautiful woman stood in the center of the little open space, stroking the head of a bird which she held against her golden breastplate with one hand. Her profile was presented to the ape-man and he saw that by the standards of any land she would have been accounted more than lovely.

  Seated in the grass at her feet, with her back toward him, was a female Waz-don slave. Seeing that she he sought was not there and apprehensive that an alarm be raised were he discovered by the two women, Tarzan moved back to hide himself in the foliage, but before he had succeeded the Ho-don girl turned quickly toward him as though apprised of his presence by that unnamed sense, the manifestations of which are more or less familiar to us all.

  At sight of him her eyes registered only her surprise though there was no expression of terror reflected in them, nor did she scream or even raise her well-modulated voice as she addressed him.

  “Who are you,” she asked, “who enters thus boldly the Forbidden Garden?”

  At sound of her mistress’ voice the slave maiden turned quickly, rising to her feet. “Tarzan-jad-guru!” she exclaimed in tones of mingled astonishment and relief.

  “You know him?” cried her mistress turning toward the slave and affording Tarzan an opportunity to raise a cautioning finger to his lips lest Pan-at-lee further betray him, for it was Pan-at-lee indeed who stood before him, no less a source of surprise to him than had his presence been to her.

  Thus questioned by her mistress and simultaneously admonished to silence by Tarzan, Pan-at-lee was momentarily silenced and then haltingly she groped for a way to extricate herself from her dilemma. “I thought—” she faltered, “but no, I am mistaken — I thought that he was one whom I had seen before near the Kor-ul-GRYF.”

  The Ho-don looked first at one and then at the other an expression of doubt and questioning in her eyes. “But you have not answered me,” she continued presently; “who are you?”

  “You have not heard then,” asked Tarzan, “of the visitor who arrived at your king’s court yesterday?”

  “You mean,” she exclaimed, “that you are the Dor-ul-Otho?” And now the erstwhile doubting eyes reflected naught but awe.

  “I am he,” replied Tarzan; “and you?”

  “I am O-lo-a, daughter of Ko-tan, the king,” she replied.

  So this was O-lo-a, for love of whom Ta-den had chosen exile rather than priesthood. Tarzan had approached more closely the dainty barbarian princess. “Daughter of Ko-tan,” he said, “Jad-ben-Otho is pleased with you and as a mark of his favor he has preserved for you through many dangers him whom you love.”

  “I do not understand,” replied the girl but the flush that mounted to her cheek belied her words. “Bu-lat is a guest in the palace of Ko-tan, my father. I do not know that he has faced any danger. It is to Bu-lat that I am betrothed.”

  “But it is not Bu-lat whom you love,” said Tarzan.

  Again the flush and the girl half turned her face away. “Have I then displeased the Great God?” she asked.

  “No,” replied Tarzan; “as I told you he is well satisfied and for your sake he has saved Ta-den for you.”

  “Jad-ben-Otho knows all,” whispered the girl, “and his son shares his great knowledge.”

  “No,” Tarzan hastened to correct her lest a reputation for omniscience might prove embarrassing. “I know only what Jad-ben-Otho wishes me to know.”

  “But tell me,” she said, “I shall be reunited with Ta-den? Surely the son of god can read the future.”

  The ape-man was glad that he had left himself an avenue of escape. “I know nothing of the future,” he replied, “other than what Jad-ben-Otho tells me. But I think you need have no fear for the future if you remain faithful to Ta-den and Ta-den’s friends.”

  “You have seen him?” asked O-lo-a. “Tell me, where is he?”

  “Yes,” replied Tarzan, “I have seen him. He was with Om-at, the gund of Kor-ul-JA.”

  “A prisoner of the Waz-don?” interrupted the girl.

  “Not a prisoner but an honored guest,” replied the ape-man.

  “Wait,” he exclaimed, raising his face toward the heavens; “do not speak. I am receiving a message from Jad-ben-Otho, my father.”

  The two women dropped to their knees, covering their faces with their hands, stricken with awe at the thought of the awful nearness of the Great God. Presently Tarzan touched O-lo-a on the shoulder.

  “Rise,” he said. “Jad-ben-Otho
has spoken. He has told me that this slave girl is from the tribe of Kor-ul-JA, where Ta-den is, and that she is betrothed to Om-at, their chief. Her name is Pan-at-lee.”

  O-lo-a turned questioningly toward Pan-at-lee. The latter nodded, her simple mind unable to determine whether or not she and her mistress were the victims of a colossal hoax. “It is even as he says,” she whispered.

  O-lo-a fell upon her knees and touched her forehead to Tarzan’s feet. “Great is the honor that Jad-ben-Otho has done his poor servant,” she cried. “Carry to him my poor thanks for the happiness that he has brought to O-lo-a.”

  “It would please my father,” said Tarzan, “if you were to cause Pan-at-lee to be returned in safety to the village of her people.”

  “What cares Jad-ben-Otho for such as she?” asked O-lo-a, a slight trace of hauteur in her tone.

  “There is but one god,” replied Tarzan, “and he is the god of the Waz-don as well as of the Ho-don; of the birds and the beasts and the flowers and of everything that grows upon the earth or beneath the waters. If Pan-at-lee does right she is greater in the eyes of Jad-ben-Otho than would be the daughter of Ko-tan should she do wrong.”

  It was evident that O-lo-a did not quite understand this interpretation of divine favor, so contrary was it to the teachings of the priesthood of her people. In one respect only did Tarzan’s teachings coincide with her belief — that there was but one god. For the rest she had always been taught that he was solely the god of the Ho-don in every sense, other than that other creatures were created by Jad-ben-Otho to serve some useful purpose for the benefit of the Ho-don race. And now to be told by the son of god that she stood no higher in divine esteem than the black handmaiden at her side was indeed a shock to her pride, her vanity, and her faith. But who could question the word of Dor-ul-Otho, especially when she had with her own eyes seen him in actual communion with god in heaven?

  “The will of Jad-ben-Otho be done,” said O-lo-a meekly, “if it lies within my power. But it would be best, O Dor-ul-Otho, to communicate your father’s wish directly to the king.”

  “Then keep her with you,” said Tarzan, “and see that no harm befalls her.”

  O-lo-a looked ruefully at Pan-at-lee. “She was brought to me but yesterday,” she said, “and never have I had slave woman who pleased me better. I shall hate to part with her.”

  “But there are others,” said Tarzan.

  “Yes,” replied O-lo-a, “there are others, but there is only one Pan-at-lee.”

  “Many slaves are brought to the city?” asked Tarzan.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “And many strangers come from other lands?” he asked.

  She shook her head negatively. “Only the Ho-don from the other side of the Valley of Jad-ben-Otho,” she replied, “and they are not strangers.”

  “Am I then the first stranger to enter the gates of A-lur?” he asked.

  “Can it be,” she parried, “that the son of Jad-ben-Otho need question a poor ignorant mortal like O-lo-a?”

  “As I told you before,” replied Tarzan, “Jad-ben-Otho alone is all-knowing.”

  “Then if he wished you to know this thing,” retorted O-lo-a quickly, “you would know it.”

  Inwardly the ape-man smiled that this little heathen’s astuteness should beat him at his own game, yet in a measure her evasion of the question might be an answer to it. “There have been other strangers here then recently?” he persisted.

  “I cannot tell you what I do not know,” she replied. “Always is the palace of Ko-tan filled with rumors, but how much fact and how much fancy how may a woman of the palace know?”

  “There has been such a rumor then?” he asked.

  “It was only rumor that reached the Forbidden Garden,” she replied.

  “It described, perhaps, a woman of another race?” As he put the question and awaited her answer he thought that his heart ceased to beat, so grave to him was the issue at stake.

  The girl hesitated before replying, and then. “No,” she said, “I cannot speak of this thing, for if it be of sufficient importance to elicit the interest of the gods then indeed would I be subject to the wrath of my father should I discuss it.”

  “In the name of Jad-ben-Otho I command you to speak,” said Tarzan. “In the name of Jad-ben-Otho in whose hands lies the fate of Ta-den!”

  The girl paled. “Have mercy!” she cried, “and for the sake of Ta-den I will tell you all that I know.”

  “Tell what?” demanded a stern voice from the shrubbery behind them. The three turned to see the figure of Ko-tan emerging from the foliage. An angry scowl distorted his kingly features but at sight of Tarzan it gave place to an expression of surprise not unmixed with fear. “Dor-ul-Otho!” he exclaimed, “I did not know that it was you,” and then, raising his head and squaring his shoulders he said, “but there are places where even the son of the Great God may not walk and this, the Forbidden Garden of Ko-tan, is one.”

  It was a challenge but despite the king’s bold front there was a note of apology in it, indicating that in his superstitious mind there flourished the inherent fear of man for his Maker. “Come, Dor-ul-Otho,” he continued, “I do not know all this foolish child has said to you but whatever you would know Ko-tan, the king, will tell you. O-lo-a, go to your quarters immediately,” and he pointed with stern finger toward the opposite end of the garden.

  The princess, followed by Pan-at-lee, turned at once and left them.

  “We will go this way,” said Ko-tan and preceding, led Tarzan in another direction. Close to that part of the wall which they approached Tarzan perceived a grotto in the miniature cliff into the interior of which Ko-tan led him, and down a rocky stairway to a gloomy corridor the opposite end of which opened into the palace proper. Two armed warriors stood at this entrance to the Forbidden Garden, evidencing how jealously were the sacred precincts of the place guarded.

  In silence Ko-tan led the way back to his own quarters in the palace. A large chamber just outside the room toward which Ko-tan was leading his guest was filled with chiefs and warriors awaiting the pleasure of their ruler. As the two entered, an aisle was formed for them the length of the chamber, down which they passed in silence.

  Close to the farther door and half hidden by the warriors who stood before him was Lu-don, the high priest. Tarzan glimpsed him but briefly but in that short period he was aware of a cunning and malevolent expression upon the cruel countenance that he was subconsciously aware boded him no good, and then with Ko-tan he passed into the adjoining room and the hangings dropped.

  At the same moment the hideous headdress of an under priest appeared in the entrance of the outer chamber. Its owner, pausing for a moment, glanced quickly around the interior and then having located him whom he sought moved rapidly in the direction of Lu-don. There was a whispered conversation which was terminated by the high priest.

  “Return immediately to the quarters of the princess,” he said, “and see that the slave is sent to me at the temple at once.” The under priest turned and departed upon his mission while Lu-don also left the apartment and directed his footsteps toward the sacred enclosure over which he ruled.

  A half-hour later a warrior was ushered into the presence of Ko-tan. “Lu-don, the high priest, desires the presence of Ko-tan, the king, in the temple,” he announced, “and it is his wish that he come alone.”

  Ko-tan nodded to indicate that he accepted the command which even the king must obey. “I will return presently, Dor-ul-Otho,” he said to Tarzan, “and in the meantime my warriors and my slaves are yours to command.”

  CHAPTER 11

  The Sentence of Death

  But it was an hour before the king re-entered the apartment and in the meantime the ape-man had occupied himself in examining the carvings upon the walls and the numerous specimens of the handicraft of Pal-ul-donian artisans which combined to impart an atmosphere of richness and luxury to the apartment.

  The limestone of the country, close-grained and of
marble whiteness yet worked with comparative ease with crude implements, had been wrought by cunning craftsmen into bowls and urns and vases of considerable grace and beauty. Into the carved designs of many of these virgin gold had been hammered, presenting the effect of a rich and magnificent cloisonne. A barbarian himself the art of barbarians had always appealed to the ape-man to whom they represented a natural expression of man’s love of the beautiful to even a greater extent than the studied and artificial efforts of civilization. Here was the real art of old masters, the other the cheap imitation of the chromo.

  It was while he was thus pleasurably engaged that Ko-tan returned. As Tarzan, attracted by the movement of the hangings through which the king entered, turned and faced him he was almost shocked by the remarkable alteration of the king’s appearance. His face was livid; his hands trembled as with palsy, and his eyes were wide as with fright. His appearance was one apparently of a combination of consuming anger and withering fear. Tarzan looked at him questioningly.

  “You have had bad news, Ko-tan?” he asked.

  The king mumbled an unintelligible reply. Behind there thronged into the apartment so great a number of warriors that they choked the entrance-way. The king looked apprehensively to right and left. He cast terrified glances at the ape-man and then raising his face and turning his eyes upward he cried: “Jad-ben-Otho be my witness that I do not this thing of my own accord.” There was a moment’s silence which was again broken by Ko-tan. “Seize him,” he cried to the warriors about him, “for Lu-don, the high priest, swears that he is an impostor.”

  To have offered armed resistance to this great concourse of warriors in the very heart of the palace of their king would have been worse than fatal. Already Tarzan had come far by his wits and now that within a few hours he had had his hopes and his suspicions partially verified by the vague admissions of O-lo-a he was impressed with the necessity of inviting no mortal risk that he could avoid.