The Port of Peril

VII

Human Sacrifice

Otis Adelbert Kline


VERNIA strove to wrench her arm free, but she was helpless in the grip of the filthy and ragged Hui Sen. He grinned the hideous, toothless grin of the Huitsenni, and pushed a fresh quid of kerra spores into his cheek as he dragged her toward the gate.

“Where are you taking me?” she demanded.

“First to the burrow of His Majesty, Grunk, Rogo of the Valkars, that he may give you his commands in person. Then, if he does not change his mind, which he sometimes does, but which I hope will not be the case in this instance, I will take you to my own burrow.”

“Suppose that I should offer you the wealth and position of a prince-make you rich and powerful beyond your fondest dreams. Would you help me to escape?”

“That would be impossible, Majesty. I am not so strong a swimmer that I could reach your country from here, and the Valkars would not give us time to build a boat.”

“But there is a small sailboat, provisioned and ready, in the harbor where your boats stop for fresh water. If we could reach it and get away by night, surely you are enough of a navigator to sail it to Reabon. And what I promise, I will perform.”

“We will speak of this later, Majesty,” replied Hui Sen. “Just now I must take you before the Rogo.” He entered into a short, croaking conversation with the Valkar guard at the gate, who then swung it open, permitting them to pass.

As they threaded their way between the moss-covered mounds toward the burrow of Grunk, Hui Sen looked cautiously about him as if fearful of being overheard, then said: “I cannot deny, Majesty, that the station and wealth of a prince would be a great temptation to me, for I have lived in squalor these many years. And while living thus, my only solace has been in dreams of splendor and power. But the risk would be tremendous. To pass the Valkar guards would not be easy. To cross the swamp without a Valkar guide would be next to impossible. Were it not for that swamp, my people would long ago have exterminated the Valkars. There is also the possibility that the boat might not be there, in which event the Valkars would be sure to find us, and I, at least, would be horribly punished. Added to these, and by far not the least of the considerations, would be the fact that I should lose you as my mate.”

“On that score, at least, you may set yourself at rest,” said Vernia. “Does the hahoe take the mate of the marmelot, or the awoo the mate of the ramph? Grandon of Terra is my mate, and sooner or later he will find this island, wipe the Valkars from the face of the planet, and all with them who have offered me indignity.”

“Grandon of Terra will not find this place,” said Hui Sen, confidently. “You cannot frighten me with his name, mighty as I know it to be.”

“You will remember, also,” continued Vernia, “that the mate of the marmelot is not without claws. I promise you that, if you offer me any indignity, I will slay you at the first opportunity, and myself, also. Sleeping or waking, your life will never be safe, if you drag me off to your stinking burrow.”

“That I know you would do,” replied Hui Sen, seemingly impressed, “for the women of Reabon were ever jealous of their honor. Night and day, I would always be on my guard, unless, perchance, you should learn to love me.”

“Love you? Why, you greasy yellow beast! You unspeakable filth! Sooner would I love a warty Valkar.” This was said with flashing eyes, and an imperious mien that humbled the yellow man.

“I mean no offense, Majesty,” he whined. “Even a worm may look at a star with the hope that, inaccessible as it seems, it shines favorably upon him. But here we are at the burrow of the Rogo.”

They were about to enter when Hui Sen halted and cocked his head to one side at the sound of a distant ululation, long drawn out, and exceedingly mournful.

“What was that?” asked Vernia.

“The cry of the guards,” replied Hui Sen. “Sistabez, the great serpent, has come out of his cave.”

The howling grew in volume as thousands of Valkar throats all over the village took it up. At this instant, Grunk, Rogo of the Valkars, emerged from his burrow, accompanied by Lui Sen and his two immense Valkar guards, both of which, with their noses elevated and their mouths open from ear to ear, were howling lustily. The din had now grown so loud that speech was impossible, but Grunk, after staring fixedly at Vernia and Hui Sen for a moment with his great, gold-rimmed eyes, made a sign that they should follow him, and strode off between the moss-covered mounds toward the place from which the howling had first come. Judging from the mob of Valkars, male and female, old and young which was heading in the same direction, it was evident that the entire village had turned out.

The hurrying, jostling crowd respectfully made way for the Rogo and his party, and they soon reached the edge of the village. Here a narrow path led up a rugged hillside, strewn with boulders and sparsely dotted with low-growing shrubs. At intervals of about a hundred feet along this path, heavy iron stakes had been driven into the ground.

To the farthest of these stakes, a luckless yellow slave had already been fastened. Another was being secured to the next stake, and two guards were marching a third up to the next.

Suddenly every voice was hushed, and Vernia saw an enormous and hideous head round a curve in the rugged hillside. It was about ten feet in length, and six in width at its broadest point tapering down to a square muzzle about two feet across. This massive head was reared on a thick neck fully four feet in diameter, to a height of about twenty feet above the ground. Behind it trailed a tremendous length of sinuous body. In color it was muddy green above, and the under scales were a greenish lemon-yellow.

Languidly, unhurriedly, the monster glided down the path, surveying the immense crowd of Valkars and yellow slaves before it with apparent indifference. Presently, as it came to the first slave that had been bound in its path, it paused, and leisurely arched its neck. The other two slaves had, meanwhile, been tethered and left to their fate. All three unfortunates struggled desperately, and cried out for mercy, but as the serpent poised over the first wretch, he ceased his struggles and importunities.

There was a quick, downward dart of that massive head, so swift that the eye could scarcely follow, and a single shriek from the victim as the immense jaws closed upon him, breaking his bonds like cobwebs. Then a significant lump slid down the serpent’s throat to disappear in its tremendous coils.

Leisurely the snake crawled forward once more, seized and swallowed its next shrieking victim. It paused for a moment, but as it moved on toward the third victim, a fourth was quickly chained in its path.

“Sistabez is hungry today,” Hui Sen said to Vernia.

The snake swallowed the third victim, and continued on toward the fourth.

“He is very hungry,” said Hui Sen.

As it moved forward this time, the serpent’s red forked tongue darted from its mouth, appearing and disappearing with the rapidity of lightning.

“He grows angry,” cried Hui Sen, in alarm.

At this instant, Grunk turned and croaked something to two guards, who came toward Vernia.

“What did he say?” she asked Hui Sen.

“He said,” replied that worthy, “that Sistabez was angry because he had withheld the fair white prisoner from him. He ordered the guards to tie you to the fifth stake.”

With a sudden wrench, Vernia freed her wrist from the grasp of the yellow man, then turned to flee. But before she had taken ten steps the Valkar guards had her. The fourth victim shrieked his last as she was dragged to the stake and securely bound. The two guards retreated precipitately as the serpent advanced, this time traveling more swiftly than before, its tongue flashing like red forked lightning.


The Port of Peril    |     VIII - The Wrath of the Serpent


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