AS JERRY and Junia stood in the little sunlit glade, Neem, the great black dalf, stood between them, gazing up at, first, one and then the other. Apparently he wondered why they had stopped.
“No sign of a house here,” said Jerry.
At the word “house,” Neem pricked up his small ears. Then he seized a fold of the head-cloak which Junia wore, and began tugging gently.
“Go ahead. Show us the house, Neem,” she said, encouragingly.
At this, the beast turned and trotted toward a vine-covered mound, his flat, spiked tail proudly elevated. He led them through a small opening in a leafy screen of tangled vines, and behind it they saw a door cut in the supposed mound, which turned out to be an irregularly shaped house covered with vines and creepers.
“The place is certainly well concealed,” said Jerry. “Thaine must have been hiding for some reason.”
Rearing up, the dalf pressed on the latch with one huge paw, then shouldered the door open and went in. Jerry and Junia followed him into a large room, comfortably furnished with swinging chairs and divans. There were three circular doorways cut in the walls, leading to the other rooms. And at one end was a large fireplace, around which were various utensils, and beside which a shelf held a number of dishes, cups, and the like, all of which were of gold, skillfully engraved and set with jewels. A shelf on the other side held a number of covered jars, such as the Martians use for the storage of foods.
“Evidently the lady was quite wealthy,” said Jerry. “Those dishes and jars look as if they came from a palace.”
“They did. On each is the mark of the royal house of Xancibar. It must be that Thaine had some connection with the house of Miradon Vil.”
“Or perhaps with a gang of burglars. In any case, we eat!”
And eat they did. It was some time before they troubled to examine the three other rooms. One was obviously the sleeping room of a man—a mighty huntsman, judging from the weapons and the collection of trophies.
The second room was used for storage. In it they found considerable quantities of dried and preserved provisions, as well as boxes of clothing, sleeping furs, fire powder, and other necessities.
The remaining room was unmistakably the boudoir of a girl, with its many chests of feminine apparel, and its dainty jeweled boxes of cosmetics. There were weapons here, also, but smaller and lighter than those in the sleeping room of the man.
Junia immediately took possession of this room, and Jerry retired to the room of the hunter. He bathed, then took the bottle of depilatory which he had long since substituted for his razor and went to the mirror to remove his beard. Putting down the depilatory, he returned to his belt pouch, and getting the bottle of clear liquid, filled a jeweled gold basin with water at the bath box, added a few drops of the chemical, and removed the dye from his skin and hair.
He got out the bottle of black hair dye, and with it redyed his hair and eyebrows and stained his beard jet black. Then he opened several chests until he found what he wanted—boots, cincture and head-cloak of brown, pliable leather like those worn by huntsmen. These he speedily donned.
His toilet completed, Jerry opened the door to the living room and saw, to his surprise, that Junia was there before him. She had kindled a fire in the grate, and had a pot of fragrant pulcho brewing. Like Jerry, she had chosen huntsman’s leather in preference to the blue and gold raiment which was at her disposal. She was bending over close to the fire, preparing a pot of hunter’s stew, a mixture of dried meats, berries, and vegetables.
Hearing the sound of his footsteps behind her, Junia turned, took one look at him, and uttered a piercing scream. Instantly, Neem the dalf, who had been lying stretched near her, sprang up with a roar, and plunged straight for the Earthman.
Neem, after charging up to within three feet of Jerry, suddenly stopped, sniffing the air. Then he hung his head, the bristles on his back receded, and with a most crestfallen manner he returned to his place by the fire.
“Sorry to have startled you,” said Jerry. “I thought I made sufficient noise coming into the room.
“It wasn’t the noise, but the change in your appearance,” Junia said. “I should never have known you.
“Then perhaps my plan will work,” Jerry told her, continuing: “Junia, I want to take you back to your father, and when I do, I would like to remain and help him. Without my help, and that of my army, it is probable that he not only will never be able to retake Raliad, but that the Torturer may completely crush his army.”
“Just what is your plan?”
“I would go as I am, disguised as a huntsman from Xancibar, who found you in this marsh. As a reward, your father should be glad to give me a post in his army. I am a soldier by profession—have made a study of the art of war. With my help, and that of my warriors, who I am sure I could persuade to reinforce the Vil’s army, your father will be able to drive the Torturer from Raliad and retake his empire.”
“I suppose you realize,” she said, “that if my father should recognize you, or if you should be betrayed by someone else, he would have you put to death without compunction. And even with the—the barrier that stands between us, I should not want that to happen.”
“I know,” he agreed. “And for a crime I did not commit.”
“That remains to be proved,” she reminded him. “And I have prayed every night that you may prove your innocence.”
“Bless your heart!” For a moment Jerry laid his large brown hand over her small one.
They sat there before the fire, toying with their pulcho cups and making their plans for the morrow.
“I found a map which shows our location,” said Junia. “We are in the midst of the Takkor Marsh, on the rim of which is situated Castle Takkor. The Raddek of Takkor is within the Empire of Xancibar, and subject to its ruler.”
“Then how far are we from Raliad?” asked Jerry.
“I have computed the distance at four thousand jahuds,” she replied.
“May I see the map?” he asked.
She rose and went into her room, presently reappearing with a roll of waterproof silk, which she spread on the taboret. “Here is our location in the center of the marsh,” she said, pointing to a tiny red dot on a small island.
He looked at the map more closely. “It appears that we are about two hundred jahuds from the Corvid Canal,” he said. “That will take us straight to Raliad. We are five hundred jahuds from Dukor, capital of Xancibar, and only fifty from Castle Takkor. Why not go to the castle and ask the Rad for the loan of a couple of gawrs?”
“I am surprised at you, Jerry Morgan,” she said. “Have you forgotten that Sarkis is in Raliad, and that Thoor has been named Vil?
“We know not what treaties may have been concluded between Kalsivar and Xancibar during our absence. It may be that the Rad of Takkor would place us under arrest and send us to Raliad. Perhaps Thoor and Sarkis have offered a fabulous reward for our return.”
“I bow to your superior judgment,” he said, “and apologize for being so thick-witted. Naturally, if it would not be wise to go to Castle Takkor, it would be equally unwise to go to Dukor. But if we go straight to the Corvid Canal, disguised as a huntsman and his sister, it may be that we can take passage on one of the boats for Raliad.”
“Have you thought of the matter of passage money?”
“No,” Jerry admitted. “And I suppose the boatmen won’t take promises. Perhaps we’ll have to steal a boat.”
“Fortunately not,” she replied. “I found a well-filled purse in the bottom of a chest in Thaine’s sleeping room.” She put a small, gold-embroidered silk bag on the taboret, and opening it, disclosed a considerable sum of gold and platinum pieces stamped with the mark of the Vil of Xancibar.
“Take the purse,” she went on, “and if we succeed in reaching my father I will learn the whereabouts of this Thaine, and reimburse her.”
Jerry pushed the purse back to her. “You take charge of it,” he said. “And now, how about what I asked you? Will you permit me to assist your father in my character as a huntsman?”
“I’ll sleep on that,” she told him, rising and yawning prettily. “Good night.”