THE ROOM in which Grandon, Kantar, and San Thoy had been confined on the pirate ship was immediately below the deck, hence free from the bilge water which swished in the hold below, though not far from the offensive odor which arose from it. Light filtered down to them through the loosely fitted deck planking, and also shone through several small holes, each about two inches in diameter, which were bored high up in the ship’s side, evidently to serve as loopholes through which torks might be fired. But they also acted, to some extent, as ventilators, making it possible for the prisoners to breathe the fresh sea air by pressing their noses to them, and admitting enough light to partly dispel the cheerless gloom of the humid and stuffy interior.
The chains with which the three men were fastened together by their metal collars, were about five feet in length, the gunner being in the middle, and Grandon and San Thoy at either end. After they had sniffed the fresh air for some time, the three sat down, as if by mutual consent, resting their backs against the rough wall.
“Well, Gunner, it looks as if Thid Yet has us in a tight place this time,” said Grandon.
“We have been in tighter, Majesty,” replied Kantar.
“True. But this arrangement presents a rather knotty problem. In the first place, there are two guards outside the door now instead of one. In the second place, the wily Romojak has chained us to that carrion,” indicating San Thoy, “who will surely make an outcry if we attempt an escape. Of course we can throttle him, or dash his brains out against the wall, but it would be difficult to slay him so quietly that the guards outside the door would not hear, and at least suspect something amiss.”
San Thoy shifted his quid of kerra spores and spat through a crack.
“May I remind Your Majesty,” he said, “that I am as anxious to escape from Thid Yet as you? I am to be slain by slow torture upon my arrival in Huitsen.”
“True,” replied Grandon. “Perhaps you will be worthy of our confidence on that score, if on no other.”
At this moment one of the guards opened the door to admit a menial from the galley. This greasy and profusely perspiring individual carried a tray on which were three large eating bowls and three smaller drinking bowls. These he set before the prisoners, and hastily withdrew, as if fearful that they might attack him.
When the door had closed behind him, San Thoy quickly rolled up his red quid and stuck it to the back of his left hand. Then with his right he dipped into his eating bowl, feeding greedily and from time to time taking copious drafts from his drinking bowl to wash down the food which he could only mumble.
Grandon examined the mixture in the bowl before him. It smelled savory enough, and upon tasting it, he found that it was a mixture of flaked fish and chopped mushrooms, stewed together in a sauce that was highly spiced and quite peppery. His drinking bowl contained freshly brewed kova, slightly weak, but palatable.
“Not bad for prison fare,” he commented to the gunner, who he noticed had begun to make good progress with his meal.
“It’s the one good thing about these yellow vermin which I am willing to concede. They can certainly cook,” replied Kantar.
“We are fortunate in being imprisoned with royalty,” said San Thoy, smacking his lips. “We should not otherwise be so well fed.” His meal over, he deftly flipped the red quid from the back of his left hand into his toothless mouth, and resumed his mumbling.
For many days the three men were kept in their stuffy prison. They were fed three times a day, but otherwise saw nothing of their captors. By peering through the loopholes they could amuse themselves in the daytime by watching such birds, fish, and reptiles as came within their line of vision.
During this period, however, they had not been idle in attempting to find some way of escape. It was the gunner whose ingenuity devised the means for the first step in this direction. Although he had been disarmed, he had not been deprived of his small packet of tools, commonly carried by every man of his profession, which were for the purpose of taking apart and assembling mattorks that some times jammed or failed in other ways to work properly and smoothly. These tools, like those used by terrestrial watchmakers, were small and fine, as the mechanisms on which they were used were extremely delicate.
He began on the lock which held Grandon’s metal collar around his neck. The task seemed hopeless at first, for the Huitsenni were skilled in the fabrication of such things as fetters, weapons, and instruments of torture. But after many days of patient work, he eventually had the satisfaction of springing the clasp, making it possible for the Earth-man to remove his collar by simply bending it back on the hinge. Grandon then worked on the gunner’s collar under his direction, and not being mechanically inclined, took considerable time in achieving the same favor for his henchman.
This done, Grandon suggested that the gunner open the lock on San Thoy’s collar. The task did not please him, but he was too well trained a soldier to quarrel with the orders of his sovereign, and so carried out his distasteful duty without a murmur.
They had got this far with their plans for escape, and were considering what their next move should be, when Kantar, who had been standing with his eye to a loophole, suddenly informed the Earth-man that he saw land.
Grandon leaped to a hole beside him, and peered out. He saw that the ship was entering what appeared to be the narrow channel of a fiord. The rugged cliffs, sparsely clad in places with stunted conifers, towered to a tremendous height above the placid water, which calmly reflected their beetling frowns. Sharp commands and the creaking of pulleys were heard above them as the sails were lowered. Then oars rattled, and splashed into the water, thrust through the rowing holes beneath them.
San Thoy had told Grandon and Kantar that Huitsen, the capital city of the Huitsenni, could be reached from the sea only by way of a hidden passage through towering cliffs. If he had spoken truth, then this was the beginning of that passageway, and the time left to them for freeing themselves and Vernia, and attempting to escape, was short indeed. The pirate himself confirmed this a moment later, as he too sprang up to peer through a loophole.
“This is the way to the secret gate,” he said. “Watch, and you will see how it is opened.”
Grandon’s first thought was that they must immediately attempt escape, for once in the notorious port of peril, this would undoubtedly prove impossible. Yet a rash attempt now seemed equally hopeless. He had counted on darkness as an ally, but it was yet mid-afternoon, and the probability was that the fleet would dock ere the black, moonless night of Venus should descend. He had expected to strike that very evening, when the cook’s helper would bring them their repast. Leaving San Thoy to deal with the helper, he and the gunner had planned to spring upon the two guards who stood outside the door. Could the deed have been accomplished without great noise, the rest would not have been impracticable; for under cover of darkness it would have been possible to rescue Vernia from her cabin, steal a boat, and be off.
But now, it seemed, they must make new plans.
“How soon will we dock, San Thoy?” he asked.
“In a very short time now, Majesty,” was the reply.
“Before dark?”
“Oh, long before.”
Grandon pondered for a moment. Then he spoke to Kantar. “We’ll have to think up a new scheme, Gunner. And when the time comes, we’ll have to think fast.”
“I will look for a sign from you when the time does come,” replied Kantar.
“And I, also, Majesty,” echoed San Thoy. Then he exclaimed: “See! They are opening the secret entrance!”
The channel had narrowed now, so much that it seemed the ship’s oars would be shattered against the jagged cliffs. And straight ahead was what appeared to be a solid wall of rock, barring their further progress. Astounded, Grandon saw that a crooked crack extending medially from top to bottom was slowly widening as the two halves of the wall ahead, each of which must have weighed thousands of tons, moved apart and slid into the cliffs on each side.
The ship nosed through the opening and into a dark cavern. The lights flashed on, and revealed a stalactite-festooned ceiling overhead, while the peaks of white stalagmites, projecting above the surface of the water, made it obvious that the floor of the cave had not always been flooded. Save for the gong which timed the strokes of the rowers, and the splashing of the oars, the place was as quiet as a tomb, its placid waters gleaming mirror-like ahead of the ship, and rippling in the spreading wake like molten jet shot with silver reflections.
Presently daylight appeared ahead, and the ship’s lights were turned off. A moment later they emerged through a high, arched opening into a canal. The straight banks were lined with masonry, evidently to prevent the salt water from seeping through and spoiling the crops of edible mushrooms, food ferns, and kerra ferns which were cultivated in orderly fields on either side. Those who worked in these fields, San Thoy said, were slaves who represented most of the races and nationalities of Zorovia, some captured in coastal raids, but most taken from ships that had fallen prey to the yellow pirates.
Swiftly propelled by the lusty strokes of the rowers, and again aided by the bat-wing sails, which had been unfolded as soon as the cave mouth was left behind, the ship glided into a circular land-locked harbor, lined with docks built of serali wood and set on pilings of the same tough material.
Behind the docks were warehouses of white stone, and beyond these, at the far side, Grandon could see the conical roofs and upper structures of what appeared to be a large and populous city, principally composed of odd, hive-shaped buildings unlike anything he had ever seen or heard of, either on Earth or Venus.
Thousands of queer, bat-winged craft of the pirates were moored at the docks, and many more rode at anchor in the harbor. There were also a large number of merchant and fishing ships captured by the Huitsenni, and brought in as prizes. Some of these were undergoing alterations being fitted with the bat-wing sails, and otherwise converted for the use of the yellow men.
Still peering through his loophole, Grandon saw that the flagship was nearing the dock. Soon the long oars beneath him were drawn in, and ropes were cast to waiting Huitsenni, who made them fast.
From almost directly above Grandon’s head, a gangplank was lowered striking the dock with a heavy thud. Down the plank walked Thid Yet, Romojak of the Navies of Huitsen, escorting Vernia. The Princess looked deathly pale, but showed no other sign of fear. With her head held proudly erect, and graceful carriage, she showed only disdain for her squat, greasy captor, slouching along beside her. Behind them strode a guard of six pirates, drawn scarbos in their hands.
A great lumbering one-wheeled vehicle, its cab supported on an inner idling-wheel at its center, rumbled up to the dock. These vehicles were common everywhere on Zorovia, but the beasts that drew this one were not. Hitched, one before and one behind the great wheel, they were larger than Norman horses, covered with long white curly hair of silky texture, and each armed with three twisted horns, one curving forward from the tip of the nose, and the other two arching above the eyes. Their ankles, also were armed with sharp bony spurs, projecting toward the front on the forelegs, and toward the back on the hind legs. Their hoofs were split into three sections, each of which was armed with a claw.
Thid Yet assisted Vernia to enter the vehicle, then clambered up after. The drivers shouted to their beasts, and the huge wheel lumbered away.
“Where are they taking her?” Grandon asked San Thoy.
“To the palace, no doubt,” the yellow man replied, “where we, too, will be taken shortly.”
“If my plan works I’ll go to the palace, but not as a prisoner,” Grandon told his two companions. “We will attain at least temporary liberty if you throw off your collars when I raise my right hand, then follow me.”
Grandon saw the loot from his camp, and the weapons and accouterments of his Fighting Traveks, carried ashore. Then the door of their prison was flung open, and a self-important mojo, accompanied by four guards, all carrying their scarbos in their hands, ordered them out.
They were ushered up a companionway, and on reaching the deck, were forced into a line of yellow men who, laden with their loot, were hurrying ashore.
They had reached the center of the swaying gangplank when Grandon suddenly raised his right hand. Simultaneously, the three prisoners threw off the collars which their captors had, up until then, believed to be locked. Before they could act, the Earth-man had turned and dived into the water beneath, swiftly followed by his two companions.