AS I sat facing the three men, Pasuki, Lotar, and Vorn Vangal, all faithful to me, but with no plans for meeting the emergency created by the advance of the army which was ten times the strength of the garrison of the Black Tower, an idea came to me.
“Will Taliboz accompany the army, Pasuki?” I asked.
“It is probable, Highness, but I cannot be certain.”
“How many men in your garrison?”
“Four hundred and fifty, not counting Lotar’s fifty. We could not hold the tower long against the attack of five thousand. It is best that we disband the garrison and make our escape in the flyers on the roof of the tower. There are two there, each of which will carry two men.”
“But what of the princess? If you men and your followers are willing to fight both for her and for me, I have a plan—a precarious one, but possible of execution—for saving her and dethroning Taliboz.”
They pledged their loyalty.
“Very well,” I said. “Prepare, then, all of you, to obey my orders without question. They may seem strange to you, but if they do, remember that they are designed to outwit Taliboz. You, Pasuki, will prepare for the defense of the Black Tower at once with all your mattorks and men. You, Lotar, will keep your men armed and ready for my call, but out of sight. See that every one of them is provided with a portable light, and that there are several extra lights. Vorn Vangal will remain at my side for the present.”
The two men hurried away to carry out my commands, and I leisurely finished my breakfast, while Vorn Vangal kept anxious watch out the window.
“They draw near, Highness,” he said excitedly, “and Taliboz is with them, for I see the personal standard of the Torrogo in their midst.”
“Good.” I went to the window. Taliboz was bringing up a mighty host indeed, compared to our small garrison. When they were within a thousand yards of the walls that surrounded the tower, they deployed to the right and left. A man bearing a banner on which was written in large letters the Zarovian word “dua”—which, under the circumstances meant, “a truce”—left the ranks and marched toward the main gate of the tower wall.
“A herald,” said Vorn Vangal. “Taliboz would treat with us.”
“Let us go to the top of the tower.”
We quickly took a telekinetic elevator.
“We are completely surrounded now,” said Vorn Vangal. “There will be no escape. Even if we were to try to get away in the airships we should immediately be shot down by their mattork crews.”
“We are not yet ready to attempt an escape.”
The herald stopped near the gates and shouted a command to Pasuki to deliver to His Imperial Majesty, Taliboz of Olba, “the usurper who calls himself Zinlo of Olba.” He offered a free pardon to Pasuki and his men.
“You will return to His Majesty,” replied Pasuki, “our regrets that we are unable to comply with his order, as we have no usurper in the Black Tower.”
“Who is that man in scarlet I see standing on the roof of the topmost segment?” demanded the herald. “If that be not Zinlo of Olba . . . ” He checked himself, then continued, “If that be not the usurper who calls himself Zinlo of Olba, who is he?”
“He is Zinlo of Olba. Tell that to your traitorous master, and bid him come and bend the knee to the man whose throne he has stolen.” Turning contemptuously, Pasuki walked away from the parapet.
“Pasuki has played his part well,” I informed Vorn Vangal. “Now, remove your disguise; if possible get rid of that villainous-looking hair dye; array your self in the purple that suits your true station, and then report to me in my apartments.”
“I will carry out Your Highness’s commands at once,” replied Vorn Vangal, and hurried to the elevator.
I watched the herald as he picked his way through the encircling army to a point some distance behind it where a man stood, garbed in the royal scarlet, surrounded by officers and courtiers. I knew that he must be Taliboz.
Scarcely had the herald bowed before him ere he sent a number of officers scurrying toward the front lines. A mattork spoke. The shell went screaming past the tower only a few feet from my head. A second shell exploded near me, tearing away part of the battlement.
As our mattorks replied, a general bombardment started, and the soldiers of the encircling army took advantage of natural cover when it was to be had, or threw themselves flat and dug in. I judged that they planned to bombard the tower before attempting to storm it.
Shells were rattling like hail against the upper battlements when I took the elevator and descended to my apartments. Here I found Vorn Vangal, once more the great Olban noble I had first seen.
Together we entered the elevator once more and descended to the fifth underground level, where Lotar’s men were mobilized. The young mojak saluted and then stood awaiting my orders. Even at this depth the thunderous sounds of the battle came faintly from above, and I could see that both men and commander longed, even as did I, to be in the thick of it. But I had other work for all, which might prove as exciting and far more dangerous.
“Have you the lights, Lotar?” I asked.
“Every man has been provided with a light, and there are several to spare, Highness.”
“Then give one each to Vorn Vangal and me, and we will start for the palace at once, the way we came. Hurry!”
Lotar quickly handed us a light each, and then led us to the pillar from beneath which we had entered the Black Tower. I led the way into the pit beneath it as soon as it was raised, closely followed by Vorn Vangal, and leaving Lotar to close the entrance and bring up the rear.
Traveling with lights, it was easy to maintain a pace much faster than our previous one when we had walked in total darkness.
“How many guards do you think there will be in the palace?” I asked Vorn Vangal as he jogged along beside me.
“Normally there are a thousand constantly on duty in the palace and grounds. However, it may be that Taliboz has taken some of these with him in order to fill the ranks of his hastily organized army. If this is the case, he may have left two or three hundred, perhaps five hundred men.”
“Whether there be two hundred or a thousand, we must take the palace,” I said. “In either case we will be tremendously outnumbered, but we have the advantage of surprise in our favor.”
When we reached the palace, I called a halt to give the men a rest, and passed back word for Lotar to come up.
As soon as he joined us, I told him my plans for taking the palace. Then I pulled the lever which operated the pillar above us, and we all snapped off our lights.
When the pillar was high enough I drew myself up and peered over the edge of the floor through the dim light of the dungeon. Only one guard was in sight, and he was walking away from me. Silently I threw a knee over the edge, stood erect, and signed for the others to follow me. When every man was out, Lotar pressed the hidden button which closed the wall.
At the suggestion of Vorn Vangal, our torks were loaded with the projectiles which paralyze for several hours but do not kill unless they happen to strike a vital spot. By using these bullets we could render our opponents helpless without actually killing them, and would not be bothered with guarding prisoners.
As Vorn Vangal had surmised, Taliboz had taken a number of the palace guards with him when he started for the Black Tower. We found only one man patrolling the corridors of the level we were on, and he was quickly put out of the way. On the next level we found two guards, and on each of the three dungeon levels above it, two. Although they were not taken completely by surprise, having heard our shots, they were easily overcome.
On the ground level, Lotar took twenty men and started out in one direction while his lieutenant took another twenty and went in the opposite direction. With the ten remaining men, Vorn Vangal and I took an elevator to the roof.
Here we found only a dozen men on guard, and quickly shot down all but one, who surrendered in terror, for he did not know that we were not using the deadly bullets in our torks. There were six aerial battleships on the roof but crews in none of them. I also noticed several small, one-man airships. One of these suddenly rose and started for the Black Tower, but Vorn Vangal leaped to a mattork and shot it down. It crashed in one of the busiest streets of Olba, drawing a great crowd and halting traffic.
Quickly searching the other airships, we found them untenanted.
By questioning the man we had captured, we found that Vinzeth, Mojak of the Palace Guards, had ordered most of his men to the dungeon, and had gone there himself to direct the fighting.
“Now, Vorn Vangal,” I said when we were in control of the roof, “do you think that by spreading the knowledge of my return in Olba you can get us a few more fighting men?”
“I can raise a vast army, and that quickly. They may not all be trained soldiers, but every male Olban knows how to use a tork and scarbo.”
“Then you will remain here in charge of the roof, retaining five men at all times to defend the stairway. The other five you may use as messengers to summon your friends. As all these men are from an aerial battleship, I assume that they know how to handle the small airships.”
“They do,” replied Vangal.
I then sent for the prisoner. When he was brought before me I asked him where the Princess of Tyrhana was imprisoned.
“I do not know, Your Highness,” he replied.
“Have a care how you lie to me,” I warned him.
“I swear it, Highness. I have no idea of her whereabouts.”
“Cling to your falsehood, knave! We shall see if it will sustain you in mid-air. Pitch him over the battlements, men.”
The two warriors who had brought him immediately began dragging him toward the battlements. He struggled unsuccessfully to break away from them, feet threshing, eyes rolling in terror.
“Wait!” he shrieked. “I know! I will tell!”
“Bring him back,” I ordered. “He shall have another chance.”
Once more they brought him before me, this time trembling with terror and thoroughly cowed.
“Speak,” I said. “And tell the truth this time.”
“Her Highness has apartments on the floor just beneath us,” he said quaveringly. “The last floor at which the elevators stop.”
“And how is she guarded?”
“Two men guard her door, and she has two female attendants.”
I did not wait to hear more but dashed down the stairway. After traversing several corridors, I saw two guards standing before a door draped with scarlet, and knew I had the right place. One of the guards saw me as soon as I saw him, and our torks spoke in unison. His bullet struck my sword hilt, but mine stretched him, unconscious, on the floor. The other guard wheeled just in time to receive my second bullet and share the fate of his companion.
Rushing up to the doorway, I ripped aside the scarlet drape and tried to open the door, but it was locked. I quickly searched both fallen guards but could find no keys in the belt pouches of either.
Arising, I rapped loudly and called the name of Loralie.
A woman’s voice answered me from within. It was the voice of my princess. “Who is there?”
“It is I, Zinlo,” I replied. “Open the door, quickly.”
“Zinlo, beloved!” she answered. “I had almost lost hope of your coming. But I cannot open the door. It was locked from the outside, and we have no keys in here.”
“Then I’ll break it down,” I answered. “Stand away from it.”
Backing across the corridor, I ran at the door, hurling my body against it, but it was sturdily fashioned from thick planks of tough serah wood, and my sole reward for my onslaught against it was a bruised shoulder.
Again and again I hurled myself against it with the same result.
Then I whipped out my scarbo, resolved to hew my way through it, when I suddenly heard the sound of men running behind me. Wheeling, I beheld the brutal, leering features of Vinzeth. Behind him came a dozen palace guardsmen. I reached for my tork, but before my hand touched it, his spoke. There was a soaring pain in my already bruised shoulder, a dizzy nausea swept over me, and all went black before my eyes.
When I regained consciousness after being shot down by Vinzeth, I had a furious headache, a terrific pain in my shoulder, and a tremendous thirst. I was lying on a mattress on the roof, with Vorn Vangal bending over me, holding a phial of some pungent liquid beneath my nostrils. Lotar was standing near by.
“Where is Loralie?” asked. “Have you rescued her?”
“Here, drink this,” said Vorn Vangal, removing the phial from beneath my nostrils and holding a steaming bowl to my lips. “Then I will tell you.” I recognized the fragrant aromatic smell of kova, and drank deeply. The hot, stimulating beverage sent the blood coursing warmly through my veins.
When I had drunk, Vorn Vangal said, “Lotar and his men not only conquered the guards stationed on every floor they came to, but defeated the fifty guards which Vinzeth took down from the roof to oppose them, driving them upward from floor to floor until only a dozen remained with their mojak. Evidently intending to get the princess and escape in one of the airships, Vinzeth retreated with his twelve men while Lotar was conquering the guards posted on the floor that is second from the top. This took only a short time, but when Lotar reached the top floor he saw Vinzeth standing over you with a scarbo, ready to give you the death blow.
“He instantly opened fire, whereupon Vinzeth transferred his attention from you to the only avenue of escape left to him—the door to the apartments of the princess. With a key from his belt pouch he succeeded in opening it and getting inside with two of his men. The others were shot down by Lotar and his warriors.
“Finding you were not dead, but only temporarily paralyzed, Lotar had you brought up to the roof by two of his men, and with the others who were with him, demanded that Vinzeth surrender and give up the princess. But Vinzeth refused to surrender, and swore that if the door were broken down the princess should be instantly slain.”
“How long ago was this?”
“It occurred about three hours ago. The effect of the narcotic in the tork bullets lasts about that long.”
“And she is still in there with him?” I asked, sitting up.
“What could we do, Highness? We have surrounded the room, but if we break in she will undoubtedly be slain. Vinzeth is a desperate character.”
“You are right. We must find some way to outwit this Vinzeth.”
“We have not been unsuccessful in other ways,” said Vorn Vangal. “Already I have raised a citizen army of twenty thousand men, and more volunteers pour into our ranks constantly. The city is in the hands of the loyal commanders I have appointed, and a thousand men who are trustworthy guard the palace from roof to dungeons.”
“What about Pasuki in the Black Tower? I had intended to have you send him reenforcements by way of the tunnel as soon as you could get them, but forgot it.”
“In this I acted without Your Highness’s command, guessing your intentions,” said Vorn Vangal. “Five thousand men have already traveled to the relief of Pasuki through the tunnel. When all get there, his men will outnumber those of Taliboz. And they will have a decided advantage any time he decides to storm the tower. The twenty thousand citizen troops are mobilized near the south gate, awaiting your orders.”
Just as he finished speaking a small, one-man flyer alighted on the roof. The man who stepped out looked around him for a moment, then espying our group, ran toward us.
“I have just come from Tureno,” he announced. “A mighty battle fleet is in the harbor—the fleet of Tyrhana. And in the flagship rides Ad, Torrogo of Tyrhana, who demands that his daughter be delivered to him safe and sound, or he will immediately reduce Tureno and march on Olba. With him, also, are two ships, in one of which is Prince Gadrimel of Adonijar. He threatens an immediate declaration of war by his nation if his cousin, the Princess of Tyrhana, be not immediately returned unharmed to her imperial sire.”
“Never mind Prince Gadrimel,” I told the messenger, “but fly at once to the flagship of Torrogo Ad. Tell him that his daughter has been kidnapped by one of the mojaks of Taliboz, and we are trying to rescue her. Tell him further that if he cares to, he is welcome to land his army in Tureno, and that such citizens of Tureno as are available and can bear arms will march with him and assist him if he is bent on attacking the army of the man who abducted his daughter and usurped the throne of Olba.”
The messenger made obeisance and departed.
I turned to Vorn Vangal. “Send another messenger at once to the King of Tureno. Tell him it is my command that he permit the soldiers of Tyrhana to land, and that he send as many men with them as he can gather to fight Taliboz. You will then go yourself and take command of the citizen army that waits at the south gate of the city, starting immediately for the Black Tower and surrounding the army of Taliboz, if possible.”
Vorn Vangal hurried away to carry out my orders, and I swung on Lotar. “By looking over the battlements, can you point out the windows of the room in which Her Highness is confined?”
“Yes, Highness.”
“First send for a long, strong rope,” I commanded. “Then show me the windows—and be sure you make no mistake.”
He sent a man scurrying for a rope and then went to the parapet and leaned over. I leaned over with him and he pointed downward.
“That window,” he said, indicating one almost directly beneath us, “opens on the reception room of her apartment. The one to the left opens on her bedroom, the right on her bath.”
At the sound of footsteps behind us we turned. Two soldiers bearing a large coil of stout rope saluted.
“Put down the rope,” I ordered. “Now you, Lotar, go down in front of the door of the princess’s apartment. Make a great noise, demand the release of the prisoner, and engage Vinzeth in an argument if you can. Don’t do anything until you hear a commotion inside, or until I call you. Then break down the door.”
With a quiet smile, which showed his full comprehension of my plan, Lotar hurried down the stairway.
Making a tight loop in the end of the rope, I brought it over the parapet at a position directly above the window which opened on Loralie’s bedroom. Then, telling the two soldiers to let me down until I held out one hand for them to stop, I swung over the battlement, and with one foot in the loop and both hands gripping the rope, was swiftly and silently lowered. As soon as I was opposite the window, I signaled the men to cease lowering me. Because of the projection of the battlements, I hung about three feet from the window ledge. Below me was a sheer drop of about a hundred feet to the balcony roof of the next segment.
Gripping the rope with both hands, I worked it as a child works a swing until it began to move back and forth, first toward, then away from the window ledge. Nearer and nearer it swung until I was finally able to hook a foot over the ledge and draw myself inside. Cautiously dropping to the floor, I found the room deserted and the door closed. From beyond the door came men’s voices raised in altercation.
Scarbo in hand, I tiptoed to the door and gently opened it a little way. Standing near the large central window, but looking toward the entrance to the corridor, were Loralie and her two handmaidens. Just in front of them, and also facing the door, were Vinzeth and his two men.
I had no idea whether the two maids with Loralie were friendly to my cause or to that of Taliboz, but I took a chance, and, reaching out, touched the arm of the one nearest me, then held my finger to my lips for silence. She started and gave a little cry of fear which caused me to snatch at my tork, but it went unnoticed by the three men because of the clamor in the corridor.
Motioning the girl into the bedroom, I touched her companion in a like manner, and also succeeded in getting her out of the way without noise. I then touched Loralie lightly on the shoulder. She swung on me, a furious look in her eyes, but it was instantly replaced by one of infinite tenderness when she recognized me. She went with me quickly enough into the bedroom, but when I started out again she threw her arms around my neck to detain me.
“Don’t go, please,” she whispered. “They will kill you. Close the door and stay in here.”
I smiled, kissed her, and pushed her away.
“Lock the door after me,” I said in a whisper. “In case I lose the fight, Lotar will break in from the corridor before Vinzeth can harm you.”
Then I stepped out and softly closed the door after me. At this instant one of the men, turned, facing me. For a moment he stared incredulously; then he reached for his tork. But mine was already leveled at him, and I fired.
At the sound of the shot, Vinzeth and the other ruffian swung about. I shot the latter, but the mojak of Taliboz was too quick for me. Without pausing to draw a weapon, he sprang in so close that I was unable to use mine, and we went down in a heap, kicking, clawing, striking and gouging each other like a pair of wild animals.
The corridor door, meanwhile, was splintering from thunderous blows on its exterior. Although the thick serali planking was exceedingly tough, it was evident that it could not much longer withstand the terrific assault. Lotar had evidently found something that made an efficient battering ram.
All this came to me subconsciously as I fought, for I was too busy with my powerful and wily antagonist to think of anything else. Back and forth we struggled, rolling over and over, crashing against furniture and pulling down hangings, each man kept so occupied by the other that he was unable to use a weapon.
Presently I managed to get a short arm jolt to Vinzeth’s jaw, which partly dazed him, and was about to repeat the process when he suddenly caught me in the solar plexus with his knee. With the wind completely knocked out of me, I sank, gasping, to the floor.
He uttered a yell of triumph, and whipping out his scarbo, swung it aloft with the evident intention of splitting my skull.
But ere he could bring it down, there was a final, rending crash from the corridor doorway, followed by the cracking of a tork. With a look of horrified unbelief on his features, Vinzeth dropped his scarbo and pitched forward on his face, his body lying across me.
Lotar quickly dragged him off me, and flung him into the corner as if he had been a sack of grain. I sat up but was unable to talk.
When I regained my speech I called to Loralie, telling her that it was now safe to open the door. Recognizing my voice, she came out and knelt beside me, pulling my head down on her breast and asking me where I was wounded.
But I reassured her, and a moment later, having managed to regain my breath, I stood up. “Man one of the aerial battleships at once, Lotar,” I said. “We’re going to pay our respects to Taliboz.”
While we waited for Lotar to get the ship ready for flight, Loralie and I stood on the palace roof, looking toward the Black Tower.
Lotar sent us each a glass, and with the aid of these, we could watch what was transpiring.
The citizens’ army which had started out from Olba was now less than two miles from the tower and spread out in an immense crescent. Marching from Tureno, and almost as close to the besieged tower, was an army almost as large as that of Olba, deployed in the same manner. On account of his low position and the rolling formation of the ground, Taliboz had not yet seen his approaching enemies. His men, who had evidently been previously repulsed, judging from the bodies that lay before the wall, were forming for a new assault on the Black Tower.
We were watching the horns of the two crescents draw together when Lotar called to me, “The ship is ready, Highness.”