The Golden Age of Science Fiction Novels Vol 02

by Anthology

  The cubes we rode angled in their course; raced now with ever-increasing speed toward the spangled curtains.

  And still Norhala's golden chant lured; higher and even higher reached the following wave. Now we were rising upon a steep slope; now the amethystine, gleaming ring was almost overheard.

  Norhala's song ceased. One breathless, soundless moment and we had pierced the veils. A globule of sapphire shone afar, the elfin bubble of her home. We neared it.

  Heart leaping, I saw three ponies, high and empty saddles turquoise studded, lift their heads from their roadway browsing. For a moment they stood, stiff with terror; then whimpering raced away.

  We were at Norhala's door; were lifted down; stood close to its threshold. Slaves to a single thought, Drake and I sprang to enter.

  "Wait!" Norhala's white hands caught us. "There is peril there--without me! Me you must--follow!"

  Upon the exquisite face was no unshadowing of wrath, no diminishing of rage, no weakening of dreadful determination. The star-flecked eyes were not upon us; they looked over and beyond--coldly, calculatingly.

  "Not enough," I heard her whisper. "Not enough-- for that which I will do."

  We turned, following her gaze. A hundred feet on high, stretching nearly across the gorge, an incredible curtain was flung. Over its folds was movement--arms of spinning globes that thrust forth like paws and down upon which leaped pyramid upon pyramid stiffening as they clung like bristling spikes of hair; great bars of clicking cubes that threw themselves from the shuttering--shook and withdrew. The curtain was a ferment--shifting, mercurial; it throbbed with desire, palpitated with eagerness.

  "Not enough!" murmured Norhala.

  Her lips parted; from them came another trumpeting-- tyrannic, arrogant and clangorous. Under it the curtaining writhed--out from it spurted thin cascades of cubes. They swarmed up into tall pillars that shook and swayed and gyrated.

  With blinding flash upon flash the sapphire incandescences struck forth at their feet. A score of flaming columned shapes leaped up and curved in meteor flight over the tumultuous curtain. Streaming with violet fires they shot back to the valley of the City.

  "Hai!" shouted Norhala as they flew. "Hai!"

  Up darted her arms; the starry galaxies of her eyes danced madly, shot forth visible rays. The mighty curtain of the Metal Things pulsed and throbbed; its units interweaving--block and globe and pyramid of which it was woven, each seeming to strain at leash.

  "Come!" cried Norhala--and led the way through the portal.

  Close behind her we pressed. I stumbled, nearly fell, over a brown-faced, leather-cuirassed body that lay half over, legs barring the threshold.

  Contemptuously Norhala stepped over it. We were within that chamber of the pool. About it lay a fair dozen of the armored men. Ruth's defense, I thought with a grim delight, had been most excellent--those who had taken her and Ventnor had not done so without paying full toll.

  A violet flashing drew my eyes away. Close to the pool wherein we had first seen the white miracle of Norhala's body, two immense, purple fired stars blazed. Between them, like a suppliant cast from black iron, was Yuruk.

  Poised upon their nether tips the stars guarded him. Head touching his knees, eyes hidden within his folded arms, the black eunuch crouched.

  "Yuruk!"

  There was an unearthly mercilessness in Norhala's voice.

  The eunuch raised his head; slowly, fearfully.

  "Goddess!" he whispered. "Goddess! Mercy!"

  "I saved him," she turned to us, "for you to slay. He it was who brought those who took the maid who was mine and the helpless one she loved. Slay him."

  Drake understood--his hand twitched down to his pistol, drew it. He leveled the gun at the black eunuch. Yuruk saw it--shrieked and cowered. Norhala laughed--sweetly, ruthlessly.

  "He dies before the stroke falls," she said. "He dies doubly therefore--and that is well."

  Drake slowly lowered the automatic; turned to me.

  "I can't," he said. "I can't--do it--"

  "Masters!" Upon his knees the eunuch writhed toward us. "Masters--I meant no wrong. What I did was for love of the Goddess. Years upon years I have served her. And her mother before her.

  "I thought if the maid and the blasted one were gone, that you would follow. Then I would be alone with the Goddess once more. Cherkis will not slay them--and Cherkis will welcome you and give the maid and the blasted one back to you for the arts that you can teach him.

  "Mercy, Masters, I meant no harm--bid the Goddess be merciful!"

  The ebon pools of eyes were clarified of their ancient shadows by his terror; age was wiped from them by fear, even as it was wiped from his face. The wrinkles were gone. Appallingly youthful, the face of Yuruk prayed to us.

  "Why do you wait?" she asked us. "Time presses, and even now we should be on the way. When so many are so soon to die, why tarry over one? Slay him!"

  "Norhala," I answered, "we cannot slay him so. When we kill, we kill in fair fight--hand to hand. The maid we both love has gone, taken with her brother. It will not bring her back if we kill him through whom she was taken. We would punish him--yes, but slay him we cannot. And we would be after the maid and her brother quickly."

  A moment she looked at us, perplexity shading the high and steady anger.

  "As you will," she said at last; then added, half sarcastically, "Perhaps it is because I who am now awake have slept so long that I cannot understand you. But Yuruk has disobeyed ME. That of MINE which I committed to his care he has given to the enemies of me and those who were mine. It matters nothing to me what YOU would do. Matters to me only what I will to do."

  She pointed to the dead.

  "Yuruk"--the golden voice was cold--"gather up these carrion and pile them together."

  The eunuch arose, stole out fearfully from between the two stars. He slithered to body after body, dragging them one after the other to the center of the chamber, lifting them and forming of them a heap. One there was who was not dead. His eyes opened as the eunuch seized him, the blackened mouth opened.

  "Water!" he begged. "Give me drink. I burn!"

  I felt a thrill of pity; lifted my canteen and walked toward him.

  "You of the beard," the merciless chime rang out, "he shall have no water. But drink he shall have, and soon-- drink of fire!"

  The soldier's fevered eyes rolled toward her, saw and read aright the ruthlessness in the beautiful face.

  "Sorceress!" he groaned. "Cursed spawn of Ahriman!" He spat at her.

  The black talons of Yuruk stretched around his throat

  "Son of unclean dogs!" he whined. "You dare blaspheme the Goddess!"

  He snapped the soldier's neck as though it had been a rotten twig.

  At the callous cruelty I stood for an instant petrified; I heard Drake swear wildly, saw his pistol flash up.

  Norhala struck down his arm.

  "Your chance has passed," she said, "and not for THAT shall you slay him."

  And now Yuruk had cast that body upon the others; the pile was complete.

  "Mount!" commanded Norhala, and pointed. He cast himself at her feet, writhing, moaning, imploring. She looked at one of the great Shapes; something of command passed from her, something it understood plainly.

  The star slipped forward--there was an almost imperceptible movement of its side points. The twitching form of the black seemed to leap up from the floor, to throw itself like a bag upon the mound of the dead.

  Norhala threw up her hands. Out of the violet ovals beneath the upper tips of the Things spurted streams of blue flame. They fell upon Yuruk and splashed over him upon the heap of the slain. In the mound was a dreadful movement, a contortion; the bodies stiffened, seemed to try to rise, to push away--dead nerves and muscles responding to the blasting energy passing through them.

  Out from the stars rained bolt upon bolt. In the chamber was the sound of thunder, crackling like broken glass. The bodies flamed, crumbled. There was a little smoke-
- nauseous, feebly protesting, beaten out by the consuming fires almost before it could rise.

  Where had been the heap of slain capped by the black eunuch there was but a little whirling cloud of sad gray dust. Caught by a passing draft, it eddied, slipped over the floor, vanished through the doorway. Motionless stood the blasting stars, contemplating us. Motionless stood Norhala, her wrath no whit abated by the ghastly sacrifice. And paralyzed by what we had beheld, motionless stood we.

  "Listen," she said. "You two who love the maid. What you have seen is nothing to that which you SHALL see--a wisp of mist to the storm cloud."

  "Norhala"--I found speech--"can you tell us when it was that the maid was captured?"

  Perhaps there was still time to overtake the abductors before Ruth was thrust into the worse peril waiting where she was being carried. Crossed this thought another-- puzzling, baffling. The cliffs Yuruk had pointed out to me as those through which the hidden way passed were, I had estimated then, at least twenty miles away. And how long was the pass, the tunnel, through them? And then how far this place of the armored men? It had been past dawn when Drake had frightened the black eunuch with his pistol. It was not yet dawn now. How could Yuruk have made his way to the Persians so swiftly--how could they so swiftly have returned?

  Amazingly she answered the spoken question and the unspoken.

  "They came long before dusk," she said. "By the night before Yuruk had won to Ruszark, the city of Cherkis; and long before dawn they were on their way hither. This the black dog I slew told me."

  "But Yuruk was with us here at dawn yesterday," I gasped.

  "A night has passed since then," she said, "and another night is almost gone."

  Stunned, I considered this. If this were true--and not for an instant did I doubt her--then not for a few hours had we lain there at the foot of the living wall in the Hall of the Cones--but for the balance of that day and that night, and another day and part of still another night.

  "What does she say?" Drake stared anxiously into my whitened face. I told him.

  "Yes." Norhala spoke again. "The dusk before the last dusk that has passed I returned to my house. The maid was there and sorrowing. She told me you had gone into the valley, prayed me to help you and to bring you back. I comforted her, and something of--the peace--I gave her; but not all, for she fought against it. A little we played together, and I left her sleeping. I sought you and found you also sleeping. I knew no harm would come to you, and I went my ways--and forgot you. Then I came here again --and found Yuruk and these the maid had slain."

  The great eyes flashed.

  "Now do I honor the maid for the battle that she did," she said, "though how she slew so many strong men I do not know. My heart goes out to her. And therefore when I bring her back she shall no more be plaything to Norhala, but sister. And with you it shall be as she wills. And woe to those who have taken her!"

  She paused, listening. From without came a rising storm of thin wailings, insistent and eager.

  "But I have an older vengeance than this to take," the golden voice tolled somberly. "Long have I forgotten-- and shame I feel that I had forgot. So long have I forgotten all hatreds, all lusts, all cruelty--among--these--" She thrust a hand forth toward the hidden valley. "Forgot --dwelling in the great harmonies. Save for you and what has befallen I would never have stirred from them, I think. But now awakened, I take that vengeance. After it is done"--she paused--"after it is over I shall go back again. For this awakening has in it nothing of the ordered joy I love--it is a fierce and slaying fire. I shall go back--"

  The shadow of her far dreaming flitted over, softened the angry brilliancy of her eyes.

  "Listen, you two!" The shadow of dream fled. "Those that I am about to slay are evil--evil are they all, men and women. Long have they been so--yea, for cycles of suns. And their children grow like them--or if they be gentle and with love for peace they are slain or die of heartbreak. All this my mother told me long ago. So no more children shall be born from them either to suffer or to grow evil."

  Again she paused, nor did we interrupt her musing.

  "My father ruled Ruszark," she said at last. "Rustum he was named, of the seed of Rustum the Hero even as was my mother. They were gentle and good, and it was their ancestors who built Ruszark when, fleeing from the might of Iskander, they were sealed in the hidden valley by the falling mountain.

  "Then there sprang from one of the families of the nobles--Cherkis. Evil, evil was he, and as he grew he lusted for rule. On a night of terror he fell upon those who loved my father and slew; and barely had my father time to fly from the city with my mother, still but a bride, and a handful of those loyal to him.

  "They found by chance the way to this place, hiding in the cleft which is its portal. They came, and they were taken by--Those who are now my people. Then my mother, who was very beautiful, was lifted before him who rules here and she found favor in his sight and he had built for her this house, which now is mine.

  "And in time I was born--but not in this house. Nay-- in a secret place of light where, too, are born my people."

  She was silent. I shot a glance at Drake. The secret place of light--was it not that vast vault of mystery, of dancing orbs and flames transmuted into music into which we had peered and for which sacrilege, I had thought, had been thrust from the City? And did in this lie the explanation of her strangeness? Had she there sucked in with her mother's milk the enigmatic life of the Metal Hordes, been transformed into half human changeling, become true kin to them? What else could explain--

  "My mother showed me Ruszark," her voice, taking up once more her tale, checked my thoughts. "Once when I was little she and my father bore me through the forest and through the hidden way. I looked upon Ruszark--a great city it is and populous, and a caldron of cruelty and of evil.

  "Not like me were my father and mother. They longed for their kind and sought ever for means to regain their place among them. There came a time when my father, driven by his longing, ventured forth to Ruszark, seeking friends to help him regain that place--for these who obey me obeyed not him as they obey me; nor would he have marched them--as I shall--upon Ruszark if they had obeyed him.

  "Cherkis caught him. And Cherkis waited, knowing well that my mother would follow. For Cherkis knew not where to seek her, nor where they had lain hid, for between his city and here the mountains are great, unscalable, and the way through them is cunningly hidden; by chance alone did my mother's mother and those who fled with her discover it: And though they tortured him, my father would not tell. And after a while forthwith those who still remained of hers stole out with my mother to find him. They left me here with Yuruk. And Cherkis caught my mother."

  The proud breasts heaved, the eyes shot forth visible flames.

  "My father was flayed alive and crucified," she said. "His skin they nailed to the City's gates. And when Cherkis had had his will with my mother he threw her to his soldiers for their sport.

  "All of those who went with them he tortured and slew --and he and his laughed at their torment. But one there was who escaped and told me--me who was little more than a budding maid. He called on me to bring vengeance --and he died. A year passed--and I am not like my mother and my father--and I forgot--dwelling here in the great tranquillities, barred from and having no thought for men and their way.

  "AIE, AIE!" she cried; "woe to me that I could forget! But now I shall take my vengeance--I, Norhala, will stamp them flat--Cherkis and his city of Ruszark and everything it holds! I, Norhala, and my servants shall stamp them into the rock of their valley so that none shall know that they have been! And would that I could meet their gods with all their powers that I might break them, too, and stamp them into the rock under the feet of my servants!"

  She threw out white arms.

  Why had Yuruk lied to me? I wondered as I watched her. The Disk had not slain her mother. Of course! He had lied to play upon our terrors; had lied to frighten us away.

  The wailings were r
ising in a sustained crescendo. One of the slaying stars slipped over the chamber floor, folded its points and glided out the door.

  "Come!" commanded Norhala, and led the way. The second star closed, followed us. We stepped over the threshold.

  For one astounded, breathless moment we paused. In front of us reared a monster--a colossal, headless Sphinx. Like forelegs and paws, a ridge of pointed cubes, and globes thrust against each side of the canyon walls. Between them for two hundred feet on high stretched the breast.

  And this was a shifting, weaving mass of the Metal Things; they formed into gigantic cuirasses, giant bucklers, corselets of living mail. From them as they moved--nay, from all the monster--came the wailings. Like a headless Sphinx it crouched--and as we stood it surged forward as though it sprang a step to greet us.

  "HAI!" shouted Norhala, battle buglings ringing through the golden voice. "HAI! my companies!"

  Out from the summit of the breast shot a tremendous trunk of cubes and spinning globes. And like a trunk it nuzzled us, caught us up, swept us to the crest. An instant I tottered dizzily; was held; stood beside Norhala upon a little, level twinkling eyed platform; upon her other side swayed Drake.

  Now through the monster I felt a throbbing, an eager and impatient pulse. I turned my head. Still like some huge and grotesque beast the back of the clustered Things ran for half a mile at least behind, tapering to a dragon tail that coiled and twisted another full mile toward the Pit. And from this back uprose and fell immense spiked and fan-shaped ruffs, thickets of spikes, whipping knouts of bristling tentacles, fanged crests. They thrust and waved, whipped and fell constantly; and constantly the great tail lashed and snapped, fantastic, long and living.

  "HAI!" shouted Norhala once more. From her lifted throat came again the golden chanting--but now a relentless, ruthless song of slaughter.

  Up reared the monstrous bulk. Into it ran the dragon tail. Into it poured the fanged and bristling back.

  Up, up we were thrust--three hundred feet, four hundred, five hundred. Over the blue globe of Norhala's house bent a gigantic leg. Spiderlike out from each side of the monster thrust half a score of others.