by Anthology
"My lord—my lord!" he stammered in little more than a husky whisper, and sank upon his knees. His back bent, his head inclined until its face was hidden. His arms rose, and as Croft watched he made the sign of the Tamarizian priesthood—a horizontal cross.
Croft lifted himself to a sitting posture on the couch, shoving the coverings back. "Come! What's the meaning of this?" he demanded. "Since you were placed to attend my awaking, why do you kneel?"
The man lifted his face—it was white, and his eyes were wide.
"Because," he said slowly, in almost timorous fashion, "all men bend the knee to the Mouthpiece of Zitu—even Zud himself."
The whole thing burst on Croft just like that. "Get up," he said to the priest.
"Yes, lord."
The brother rose.
"Give me my garments." Croft kicked the silken sheet completely off and stood upon his feet.
"At once." The brother shuffled toward a chest in a corner of the apartment, lifted the lid and produced a robe. Blue it was—the color of the highest order of the priesthood—embroidered on the breast in stones like drops of transparent gold. The brother brought it back, outspread across his forearms, and Croft caught sight of the design—the wings of Azil, flaring out from the stem of a cross, looped in its upper segment—the cross ansata—the Palosian symbol of immortal life. Then the brother once more sank to his knees, holding the garment toward him.
"What is the meaning of this?"
When he had called for his garments he had expected his leg casings of gold, gem studded, his shirt of soft fiber, and his metal cuirass whereon blazed Aphur's sign of the sun, his sword with its jewel-incrusted hilt and belt, and his helmet with its orange plums.
But the kneeling brother answered, "It is as Zud hath decreed."
Zud—Zud—Zud. It seemed to Croft that Zud had, all unknown to him, been taking a very large part in his affairs. He took the robe from the brother's extended arms and slipped it on, fastening the shoulder boss, and seated himself while his companion laced a pair of blue-and-gold leather sandals on his feet.
"Go now," he directed, once the latter task was completed. "Say to Zud that with him I would have speech."
"I go. It was ordered that I report thy awakening, O Mouth—" the priest began as he backed toward the door.
Croft cut him short almost sharply. He lifted an arm in a sudden pointing gesture: "Go!"
The Mouthpiece of Zitu! Naia! He lifted his eyes toward the ceiling of the room. Up there—high above him—in the quarters of the Gayana, the vestals—where burned in the shrine of Ga the never-dying fire of life—up there she was waiting for him to come back—waiting to become his bride. What would be the effect of whatever it was Zud had done in his absence, on the maid herself?
It behooved him to master his startled nerves and get himself into a proper mind to dominate the coming interview with Zud. He relaxed the tension of his body and waited to Zud to appear, as he presently did.
He came in, an old man with graying hair, clad in an azure blue robe with the cross ansata embroidered in flame-colored jewels upon the breast. He advanced directly toward Croft as the latter rose, and some three paces before him sank slowly to his knees.
"Thou hast called, and thy servant appears, O Mouthpiece of Zitu," he said slowly in a tone of what might be reverence. "Long were we in recognizing the truth, yet was the fault not entirely our own, since only to Abbu of Scira had you voiced it, and not since Azil himself descended to teach the sons of mortals has such a thing occurred, nor in Zitu's wisdom was they coming revealed."
In a flash Croft began to understand. The mention of Abbu's name was enough to give him the clue.
"Thou thinkest me the Mouthpiece of Zitu, then, indeed?"
"Aye, by Zitu! the one source of life and knowledge," Zud replied. "Did not Abbu state that you told him they spirit was not that of Jasor of Nodhur, who was dead, yet whose body having died, became once more alive, and hast thou not said that all you did was by Zitu's grace? Didst not tell me that those things you commanded to be made for Tamarizia's good were shown to you in your sleeps? Canst the spirit of a mortal enter and leave the body at will—the spirit of one such as Jasor was—and"—seemingly Zud was forgetful of all discretion in this meeting—"have I not seen the paintings of the things you plan yet to bring to Tamarizia in yonder casket?"
Croft considered swiftly. Sincerity rang in the man's tones, and more and more, as he ran on, Croft understood.
"You opened the casket?" he demanded in a louder, an accusatory voice. "You dared much, priest of Zitu. What things are to be will be in the time of Zitu's choosing. It is a brave man dares to know all things in advance."
Zud's expression changed. "My lord—my lord," he faltered, "I but sought to learn the truth. I swear by Zitu that my heart was clean in what I had done and—said."
There was an odd break in his utterance just before the final word. Croft noted his manner of speaking, and caught up that last word: "Said? You have said what, Zud?"
"That thou wert the Mouthpiece of Zitu—sent into the flesh for Tamarizia's good."
"To whom have these things been spoken?"
"To all Tamarizia have I, as high priest, proclaimed it," said Zud. "Zitra but waits your awakening that it may behold and proclaim you in the body you have chosen as your servant, and give ear to your words."
Chapter Three
The thing was cut and dried. Even a public appearance was, it would seem, arranged. The church of the nation had given him forth as a spirit divinely sent as a teacher, gaining physical expression through the body of Jasor of Nodhur. And—what was Croft to do? To disclaim—to compel Zud to retract—would strike, as he knew, not only at his own powers of future accomplishment, discredit him as it were, but would aim a blow at the very foundation of the social structure.
For the political end of the matter he cared very little, to tell the truth, but even the thought of Naia sent a quiver throughout his body. He felt baffled, trapped, enraged. For a moment a wild impulse to seize the kneeling man at his feet, lift him up and shake him, hurl against him a scorching torrent of passion-urged words for his curious meddling, assailed him. But he choked it and stood as one who considers.
"Enough. What things Zitu wills, those things shall be done. Yet have I a body, as thou seest, that has lain unnourished full long. Rise, Zud of Zitra. Command me food. I would eat while we talk."
"Even now it waits." Zud rose and went backward toward the door. He set it open. As Croft seated himself once more on his couch there filed in a group of brothers, the foremost bearing a short-legged table of molded copper, the others dishes and flagons in their hands.
The dishes were of gold and silver. There were goblets of glass which the Tamarizians made of magnificent quality and design. One of the latter was placed before Croft and filled with a mid and blood-red wine. Their service ended the lay brothers bent in genuflexion and retired. Zud remained standing in watchful silence until Croft bad him be seated, when he drew up a stool and sat down.
While he ate Croft plunged into a series of questions concerning affairs in the Tamarizian states.
The reign of Tamhys will terminate in fourteen suns?"
"Aye."
"Thereafter we shall adopt the new government as it was decided, the elections being held as in the choice of the former assemblies in each kingdom—each decktaron to elect a representative, by whose vote shall be the choice of the president?"
"Aye." Zud inclined his head. "So has it been proclaimed.
"What candidates have been selected?"
"Jadgor of Aphur, and Tammon, Tamhys's son."
Croft considered the names as he sipped his wine. Jadgor, he knew, had, before the Zollarian war, had an eye on the Zitran throne—had hoped to mount it, and strengthen the entire nation by a change of that policy of pacifism which, by its continuation for something like fifty years, made Tamarizia weak, despite the wonderful resources in wealth and men which were hers. Of course, Croft
had expected to enter the field itself, but now he brushed the point aside.
"It is well." He gave his decision and set down his glass. "And the governors of the states?"
Zud mentioned a list of names covering each former kingdom. "In Aphur Robur, Jadgor's son alone. There is no other, because of his part with you in all that has been down. In Cathur, Mutlos, a man of the people, and Koryphon, Scythys's second son, who ascended the throne, as you know, after Kyphallos fled and destroyed himself in Berla before Kalamita's eyes. As your directions were understood before the time of your recent sleeping, in Hiranur the president controls also the state affairs."
"Aye," Croft agreed. His heart had warmed at the announcement that Robur stood for election in Aphur alone. Of all its people he had known, save Naia only, he had come to love Robur best, had found him a true friend, a man of broad an intelligent mind, under each and every test. He had even discussed those periods when his body lay unconscious with the Aphurian crown prince in so far as he could, and there had been a time when the only confidante of his love for Naia had been Gaya, Robur's wife.
"And where is Robur?" he asked.
"In Zitra, lord. He and Lakkon and Jadgor desire speech with thee so soon as thou shalt have waked."
A quiver of comprehension stirred in Croft's breast. He threw up his head and stared the high priest in the eyes, and found them a trifle uncertain, his whole expression more or less puzzled, even somewhat abashed.
"What troubles you, Zud?"
And for a moment Zud made no answer; for a moment he seemed to study Croft's face before he began in apologetic fashion. "What I have done I have done for the best, as I now call Zitu to witness. Yet are there some things I do not understand."
"You refer to the maiden Naia, who by your permission was taken into the quarters of the Gayana?"
"Aye," Zud said scarcely above a whisper at length and inclined his head.
"To whom ere I slept, by consent of her father and Jadgor, I was pledged?"
"Aye, lord. Jadgor and Lakkon also ask themselves—"
"Why the Mouthpiece of Zitu should seek a union in the flesh?"
Zud clasped his hands before him. He sat with eyes downcast. "Thou hast spoken, lord," he said.
Croft held him with a level regard. "And what says Zud, the high priest?"
"That the ways of Zitu are beyond mortal understanding."
"Yes." Croft took him up sharply. "Zud, the high priest, endeavored to understand—toward which end, though Abbu of Scira had sworn by Zitu to keep silent, he induced him to talk."
"I—I—lord, I absolved him of the oath of silence," Zud faltered.
"And since when may even the high priest rescind that which Zitu has recorded?"
A tremor shook the priest. A twitching seized his face. He shrank backk and sat staring, staring at the strange individual before him. One could no longer doubt that he had been sincere in what he had done, at least—what he had proclaimed of Croft, he himself believed.
"High priest of Zitu, in what words was your proclamation to Tamarizia concerning him until now known as the Hupor Jasor made?"
Zud wet his lips and made answer. "It was said that Zitu had sent us a teacher—one who should reveal to all men his will, through whom he revealed his pleasure—one who was his mouthpiece indeed."
"And this you believed?"
"Aye, lord." Zud moved. He would have knelt had not Croft stayed him.
"Hilka! Hold!"
"Aye, lord." Zud stood erect. His knees seemed knocking together and he swayed. Something like pity stirred in Croft's breast. "Think you that as Zitu's Mouthpiece I shall find it easy to take my place as heretofore in the Himyran or Ladhra shops, where the instruments designed for Tamarizia's use shall be brought forth? Do men work best with one such as you would name me, or with another man, O Zud?"
"Lord, lord!" Zud bowed his head.
"Or think you that were I the mouthpiece of Zitu, I would have pledged myself to this maid save by his will? Yet today even Zud bends the knee in my presence since his proclamation. Is this thing known to the Gayana as well as to the priests?"
"Yes, it is known," Zud told him slowly.
"The maid is still there?"
"Yes."
"She has heard the truth?"
"Yes." Zud flung up his head. Croft's last word seemed to give him courage. "She knows—the truth," he said. "She requested an audience after she had heard, and I went to her. I told her those things Abbu said."
"That my spirit was not Jasor's?"
"Yes."
"And what said she?" Croft forced himself to ask.
"She is a maiden of spirit," said Zud in the tone of one who palliates an offense. "She is unused to restraint. She refuses to give credence to Abbu's story or accept its truth save from your own lips."
Croft thrilled. Here was fidelity and trust—the absolute confidence which should exist between true mates. "She remains with the Gayana?"
"Aye—until such time as you awaken."
"I will see her. Send one to guide me to her at once."
"Lord! Zud's tone was aghast.
"Stop!" Croft cut short his incipient protest. "Would question my demands?"
"But the Gayana—" Zud began a faltering explanation.
"May be entered by him who wears the wings of the Angel of Life as well as the high priest."
For a long, breathless instant the glances of the two men met and crossed, engaging the one with the other. And then Zud was beaten down. He yielded.
"Permit that I show you," he said, "and led the way."
Chapter Four
They passed from the room and along a corridor in which the oil sconces had now been extinguished, faintly illuminated by the light of the new day. Before a massive door Zud paused and set his hand to a slender cord. His action was followed by the muffled clanging of a brazen gong. He slid the door open and revealed the shadow-wrapped throat of a shaft, up which a platform presently trembled into view. It was a primitive form of elevator operated, as Croft knew, by a Mazzerian crew in the foundations of the pyramid itself, lifting and lowering it on signal, by winding its cable on and off a revolving drum.
With Zud, he stepped aboard. The platform mounted slowly up the shaft. The high priest, with a hand on an inner cord, observed its progress, and presently once more the gong far below clanged out. The platform stopped.
They stepped into a very short corridor between masonry walls of a cut and polished stone not unlike marble, save that it held a strange, translucent quality in its substance and was wholly white. The main staircase of the pyramid mounted before them and ran on toward the top, with its crowning Temple of Zitu, and just beyond it, at the far end of the corridor, was a door. Silver it was, the most precious of Palosian metals, tooled and carved into the design of a full-sized woman's figure, in whose hand was the looped cross of immortal life.
Croft stood with tight-set lips and flaring nostrils as Zud put up a hand and pressed against the left breast of the woman on the door.
There was a tiny click, and the door slid to one side, disappearing into a socket in the wall and flooding the corridor with light. No gloomy abode was that in which the vestals dwelt. High up on the pyramid, but one flight beneath the crowning temple on the truncated apex, it caught the first of Sirius's rays, and the last, through deep embrasures set with slanting glass in the structure's walls. As the door slipped aside a scene was presented to Croft's eyes, brilliant with light and life.
"Hold!" he said as Zud would have entered and stepped passt him on one side."
"Wait me below in your own apartments, man of Zitu. Consider meanwhile those words we have spoken before you brought me here. Peace be with you, priest of Zitu. Go!"
Then, as Zud turned to do his bidding and regained the platform in the shaft, he stepped through the aperture of the door to the other side and paused, a trifle abashed.
He had come at a stride to a region of youth and beauty. It surrounded him on every side. Fe
minine forms in diaphanous fabrics were grouped about the room. The chatter of their voices filled the place. Directly before him a group of maidens already at work about an immense basket of flowers, forming the garlands and sprays which at the noontide hour of prayer they would fling at the feet of the statue of Tamarizia's god, paused and stood staring as Croft appeared.
Their hair, unrestrained save for a metal filet or cincture, fell in masses down their graceful backs. The flesh of their shoulders and arms and sandalless feet, glowed warm and pinkly white. Their lips grew parted, and their eyes, unaccustomed to masculine presence, save possibly that of old Zud, grew wide.
So for a moment they stood staring until, as though her attention was arrested by the postures and the direction of their glances, an older woman appeared, coming directly toward where Croft stood, to pause before him and bend in a genuflection, and inquire, "What does my lord of Zitu seek?"
"Speech with the maiden Naia, priestess of Ga." Croft met her glance directly.
"So be it," said the woman. "Come with me."
He followed—across a hugely pillared room where others of the vestals sat on cushions or divans, engaged in simple tasks—toward a mighty figure of a woman, carved from the strangely beautiful translucent stone the Tamarizians used mainly in their sculpture—the figure of a woman seated, brooding with a face of divinely maternal affection above the form of a babe stretched prone across her knees.
And this he thought was Ga, to whom Naia of Aphur had prayed that she might be spared the unclean ordeal of a marriage with Cathur's prince. This was the madonna. This was the woman and—her child—woman the shrine of the fire eternal, watching it, guarding it, replenishing it against extinction through the eons of ages within and from herself.
A sudden passionate desire to do her and the members of her sex some form of honor seized him in an impulse which sent him without premeditation to his knees, bending before her majestic presence, forming the sign of the cross horizontal, beneath her brooding features; glancing up then, and then only, to meet the eyes of his guide—and find them less frigid, in a subtle manner pleased.
