The Queen of the Panther World

Written by Berkeley Livingston

Illustrated by Rod Ruth

Originally published in Fantastic Adventures, July 1948

PART 2

Read PART 1

It was a strange world, this world of Amazons and panthers - where all men bowed their heads in fear of the great Queen Luria …

I LOOKED about and saw that a long series of steps had been cut into the stone. Below us something was taking place which caught and held my attention. At the far end of the valley I made out the shapes of four panthers. Coming toward them were a dozen women. These women were armed with spears. Behind them, unarmed, walked Jimno. We could hear the women crying to the panthers, telling them to take it easy. The animals suddenly broke and raced around the valley floor. Not all of them I saw after a second. One of them had been cornered. And for the first time I saw what Jimno carried in his arms, a bridle and halter.

I gasped when I realized what he was going to do, place them about the panther's throat. I watched breathlessly his approach. The only thing the women did were hold the panther at bay with their spears. Jimno had to do the dirty work. And it was more than just dirty. It was dangerous. The beast snarled and showed its teeth. But I'll say this for the man. He walked in like it was a big tabby he was going to pet.

Suddenly there was a swirl of motion.

A small cloud of dust arose. When it cleared we saw that Jimno had succeed ed in placing the halter where it be longed. But his task was half-done. Now he had to ride the panther. Like a centaur, Jimno leaped onto the animal's back, kicked him in the ribs and began to work the reins. The animal snarled, turned his head to get at the man's feet but was only rewarded by slaps across its nostrils and kicks in the ribs. I was reminded of a cowboy breaking in a bronc. And to carry the simile further, Jimno rode the panther back and forth across the floor of the valley until the panther obeyed the slightest touch of the reins and of the feet.

The second and third beasts broke in as easily as the first. The fourth was another story. It was easily the largest of the four animals, even larger, I think than Mokar. It slapped the spears, once knocking down the woman who held one of them. If the others hadn't rushed to her defense he would have torn her limb from limb.

"Jimno had better be careful with this one." Luria said. "He shows a wild spirit.”

Jimno must have realized it also. His steps were far more careful. He walked daintily as though on eggs. The circle of spears opened to let him through. Sensing the helplessness of the man, the beast whirled to face him. Someone nearby was breathing in harsh, throaty gasps. It was me....

Down below the drama was becoming more tense. Jimno moved forward slowly, carefully. The beast retreated until at last its back was against the wall. Then Jimno did something strange. He paused when only a few feet from the panther, shook his head and dropped the gear he was carrying. He paused there erect and unafraid, then stepped forward. Instantly, as though the beast had been awaiting Jimno's action, he reared upward its front legs with those terrible claws open. And Jimno walked straight forward into the embrace.

I tried to yell, tried to get something past the sandpaper which had suddenly lined my throat, but nothing came out. Even in the midst of terror, in circumstances which seem to hold one's entire attention, there is part of one that is separate from the rest. So it was I some how saw Hank's and the girl's reaction to what was going on below.

Hank's face was rigid, livid with the tense expectation of what was sure to happen to Jimno, and horror-stricken that he couldn't help. Luria too showed emotion. Her's rather was like a surgeon in an operating amphitheater, watching a fellow surgeon at work.

Below, Jimno walked into the panther's embrace. But not to his death, as we were imagining. I don't know how he did it, but suddenly Jimno ducked. He must have ducked a split second before the beast slashed at him. But Jimno ducked the blow. And like light Jimno used both hands to grasp the panther by the fur at the shoulder. Then setting his feet hard in the earth Jimno swung the panther about and leaped on its back.

I COULDN'T help letting out a wild yell of delight. Nor was Hank far behind me with his cheer. Even Luria's eyes shone in admiration. For Jimno now had the panther at a disadvantage. He was on the beast's back, his fingers deep in the fur, his legs wound around the beast's belly. Jimno's right hand came up and delivered a terrific slap across the panther's face. The beast reared his fore claws and legs trying to swipe in futile swings at the man on its back. The more the beast clawed the harder Jimno slapped. At last Jimno won out. With a last vicious blow, Jim no slid from the panther's back and walked nonchalantly to where the women were standing.

He walked with his shoulders square and his back straight and when he came into their midst he didn't walk around them but moved as though they had better give him room, else he'd walk right over them. They moved out of his way all right.

He marched up the long flight of stairs, saw us, and came forward to stand before Luria.

"Greatness," he said, "the deed to which I was sentenced has been done...."

“And well-done," Luria said graciously. “Truly, you are a man, one worthy of carrying arms. Jimno, tell me. Would you care to be the first of the legions of men I am going to recruit?”

"I would be honored.”

"Good. In the future you and Haavah will share equally the burdens and joys of your lives. If she lays a hand to you, you have my express authority to strike back...."

I realized I was hearing history being made. These men, though not eunuchs, performed the same functions.

"... So be it with you Jimno, and all men. Hear me, my lieutenants. From this day henceforth, all men share and share alike, the burdens and joys of women. On our return spread the news to the entire community. Go. You, Hank and Berk, stay with me. I have things to tell...."

She waited until the others had left, then dismounted from Mokar and walked to the lip of the valley and sat on a grassy hummock. Hank and I fol lowed and sat beside her.

"... I was awake all night,” she said. "Sleep would not come to me. My mind kept turning over and over again on the dilemma we are in. It is not an easy thing to admit defeat before it comes. Yet defeat is undeniable."

“Why?" Hank asked.

She tossed her head and her hair shook free in gleaming waves about her face.

"We are too few. Loko has not alone the majority of the tribes but the very ones who have kept up a semblance of the war-like proclivities of their predecessors. We are their superiors in spirit, but in war, spirit alone is not enough.”

"So?” Hank was doing one of those single-syllable deals with her. I knew it was irritating her because it was irritating me. Of course I knew the reason for it. She didn't.

"I have tried to find a way out but the only one I can think of is to go to Loko and acknowledge his claim and throw myself on his mercy.”

"If that's the way you feel....” Hank said.

I hid a grin in my palm. She was get ting a little flushed in her cheeks. Spots of color burned below her eyes and her eyes were beginning to flash in anger. Her right hand, lying on the grass close to me clenched in a small and capable fist.

"Okay then," Hank said. "Since that is the way you feel send us back."

Her hand came down in a slap at the earth. Her lips set firm and hard against each other.

“Very well,” she said. “I won't hold you here against your wishes. As soon as we get back...."

WE SAW the smudge of smoke lying low on the horizon when we were barely past the first hill. Luria's eyes widened at the odd sight, than narrowed in sudden understanding. I guess I was the last to catch on and so was the last to urge my beast to greater speed. I don't think we were very far from Gayno when we saw a horde of humans and animals coming toward us. In the lead, mounted on a magnificent panther, was Jimno.

We drew rein and waited for the arrival of the first of the mob. Jimno leaped from the back of his mount, dashed over to us and stood silent, his great chest heaving in panting breath. We saw then that he had suffered a number of wounds, one of them a wide slash from a sharp instrument, that had cut through the surface flesh all the way across the chest. Blood dripped from the wound, but Jimno seemed completely unaware of it.

"... Loko," he gasped after a second. He turned as the first of the hundreds of men, women and children streamed up, then brought his attention back to us. "Loko's minions attacked. While we were in the valley of the paavans. It was a surprise. And before a defense could be organized, they had set fire to the whole of the city. They were too many and the surprise was too great.

Many perished. These are all who were left. I organized the retreat...."

They were a pitiful few, I saw, that had made good their escape. My eyes gladdened when I saw that the girl, Lovah, was among them. I've got to hand it to Luria. No fumbling, no fear, no hesitation.

“Then they will surely follow; perhaps they are not too far off. To the caves. Jimno, you, Lovah and Berk, take twenty warriors and cover the rear. I'll take the others...."

"So get moving, stupe,” Hank yelled.

I held both hands out emptily to show why I wasn't going anywhere. Immediately someone thrust a sword into one hand and a spear into the other, and to make matters completely at a loss for me Hank kicked my mount in the rump and Lovah, Jimno, and I were off to glory.

Into the valley of death rode the twenty-three, I thought, as we headed back. Lovah reined her panther to my side.

“Remember one thing,” she said as we rode, "your paavan is faster in every way than the okas they ride. It is our real advantage over them. You are riding, Lipso, a well-trained animal. I know because I trained him. Give him the reins if we meet danger. And stay close to, my man, because this will not be a contest of fists."

Lipso was well-trained because when I leaned over and put my arms about Lovah's waist and drew her close, he didn't move an inch or slack his pace. I kissed her hard, perhaps not as satisfyingly as I wanted, but for the condition, well enough. I guessed it was the first time she'd ever been kissed because she brought one hand to her mouth in wonder. The most beautiful smile I'd ever seen came to life on those wonderful lips and before I knew what she was intending, she had reached in my direction,

hauled me to her and gave me a kiss in return. Years went by before I came out of the halo-like daze I was in. From then on love was the last thing on my mind.

The dirty dogs had set the whole place on fire. Not only that but there were some who were still alive in the inferno. We could hear the screams of the poor devils. Jimno took the lead as though he was born to it.

HIS hand shot up and we rode up until we were a narrow circle about him. He gestured with his hand toward a stretch of trail which would lead us between the usual lush jungle growth with which I was now familiar.

"It seems," Jimno said in a growling voice, "that they are too intent on loot, pillage and worse, to pursue. Or perhaps they think we will wait their coming on bended knees. But soon they will think of those who escaped. Then will they ride after. There is no trail other than through there...."

Again I looked to the dense brush and narrow trail and immediately a picture formed in mind of what could hap pen were we to lay a trap.

"... We are few but enough for what we can do. To face them squarely would be suicidal. Rather let us pair off and infilter through the brush but not too far off the trail. Our paavans move like shadows between the narrowest part of the forest. Their clumsier and slower beasts cannot follow. Therefore let us make haste and make rendezvous with them as they enter and harry them until they reach the open spaces. Then, when we have done with them here, let us ride ahead and make sure we meet them again later, where the forest meets the hills...."

The women wore broad smiles long before he had finished. They needed nothing further in the way of command or instruction. Like shadows, they melt perhaps a foot taller than himself.

The single glimpse I caught was of Jimno being pressed back into the jungle by the power of the other's sword play. Then they were lost to my sight. Nor was I interested any further. Death and I had come to grips. The sword in my hand was like a broom handle for all I knew of its use. And these men we had ambushed had been trained since childhood to its murderous use.

There was only one factor which saved me from instant extinction. We were fighting in brush. There simply wasn't room for fancy footwork and dexterous strokes. It was hack and chop and duck, and when it came to that I didn't have to take a back seat to any one. A lifetime spent in ducking girls I'd promised things to came in use.

He got in the first chops, but he didn't lick his lips from them. I ducked and took a couple of whacks myself. They were as close to the mark as Stalin and Taft. All the time my brain was worrying about Lovah. After all I was fighting even. She was taking on the rest. He came at me again, and this time I waited until he was a couple of feet from me, about the length of a sword stroke. The stroke I used was my favorite service stroke in tennis. I was a shade slow. But it was enough. He got his blade up in a parry. Holy cats, what happened to him should happen to the rest. Some thing strange happened to Hank and myself in our journey from the Earth to this place. Our strength multiplied tenfold. My blade not only knocked his to one side but the end four inches sliced right through his collar bone and down into his chest. He let out a single screech and fell backward, blood fountaining out from the huge wound.

I wasted no time in sympathy. There were the ringing sounds of blade striking blade not far from me. I leaped over a fallen log and into the place where Lovah was battling. She had backed up so that she had her shoulders to a huge tree. Facing her were four men. Two others lay in the curious positions the dead assume.

MY APPROACH was silent. The first they knew of my presence was when one of them fell face forward. He fell straight down. He looked kind of funny, what with his head going one way and his body another. Nor did I waste time in watching him. Once again my tennis came to a more different use. I'd used a forehand on the first. The second fell into a backhand that Riggs would have envied. There was only one thing wrong with it. I clouted this character across the chest. The blade went all the way into him. And stuck there. I yanked at it and finally stuck one foot up against the guy and tried to pull it out, but no use. It wasn't till I thought of the dead man's sticker and turned and picked it off the ground that I realized that all the time I was vulnerable to attack from the other two.

I needn't have worried. They were being taken care of but good. My Lovah child was no mean shakes with the sword. Those two characters were dancing a pretty good Lindy to the tune she was playing. I'm sure they wanted to be anywhere else but where they were. Even as I watched she lunged with her sword straight out and pinked one of the boys right through his throat. He wasn't going to swallow anything for a long while without it leaking out.

"Lovah!” I screamed suddenly. “Watch it!”

She had slipped on a wet spot of grass and in that second the other one was at her side. Her sword had flown out of her hand as she threw up her arms trying to maintain a balance. She was completely helpless and I was too far from her to help. There was but one thing to do. I lifted my sword and heaved it, point forward. The guy's sword was already coming down when mine hit. It went all the way through him. He fell straight down over the girl. And from where I was standing it looked like I'd thrown too late.

"Angel," I moaned as I ran forward and knelt at her side. I shoved the carcass of the goon who'd fallen over her, to one side and lifted her up. "Angel! Talk to me...."

"I will,” she said, "as soon as I get my breath back. Now," she continued after I'd kissed her for a while, "let us get out of here. They'll organize soon and we are too few to do more than we have...."

She arose and puckered her lips into that tuneless whistle. In a second the two panthers came trotting to us. Their snouts were stained with blood and it drooled from the corners of their mouths. They hadn't been loafing either. Lovar leaped into the flat saddle and I followed. There was no need to give the animals their orders. They knew by instinct what was expected of them.

Whirling, they loped off at top speed through the thick growth. In a short while we joined the rest at the rendezvous agreed on. We took stock. Our entire losses were one warrior and two panthers. Jimno was elated.

"We have halted them for a while. Now they will proceed with caution which was our purpose. . . . About and make for the hills."

HANK had grim lines to his face.

But they were erased at sight of me riding in the fore with Lovah and Jimno. Jimno shouted the news while we were still a hundred feet from the entire remnants of the camp. A wild yell of exultation went up from their throats at the news. Only Luria held her re serve. But even she could not help but smile.

They surrounded us and asked a hundred questions. I let Jimno take the stage. The guy deserved it. He had staged a masterful ambush and had gotten away with remarkably small losses. Hank dragged me to one side and pumped me dry of what had happened.

The sound of Luria's voice broke up our gab-fest.

"Let us not waste time in useless talk. Jimno and the others did a good job. They have delayed the pursuit for a time. But when they realize how small a force opposed them they will come the more quickly.

"We cannot stay here and we cannot go in a single body to the place where we will be safe. Therefore, I think it best to assign squad leaders to groups who will then take different trails to our eventual goal.

"Jimno, because you have proved your unquestioned leadership, you will take the largest group, all warriors, and fight a rear-guard action to delay and harass the enemy. Wamini and Saavah will lead the women and children by the trail I have outlined, to the place of safety. Lovah, you will be in charge of the balance of the warriors, men and women, who will wait here until Jimno returns, and fight a battle with the enemy. But that can wait until the others have left."

It was remarkable how little confusion there was. Luria amazed Hank and myself in her showing of leadership. It just didn't seem right that so beautiful a woman should have qualities that was rightfully man's. In a very short time several lines spread from the encampment in various directions, some toward the hills close by, others back in the direction from which we'd just come and one, the smallest group in a direction at right angles to the back trail. This group was led by Jimno. I wondered where they were going. When the last had left, only Hank, Luria, two of her personal guards, and myself were left.

“And now," Luria said turning to Hank and me, "we too must journey. Let us hope we are successful...."

"Why? Where are we going?” Hank asked.

"To the valley of the mists. To that same valley where first you saw me, as though in a dream. There, the Groana Bird makes his home, and there is where the dread beast of flame lives. We must bring back the Groana Bird...."

“Why?” Hank asked again.

"Because it was the symbol of my father's strength. And even Loko will respect it and give up his pretensions. Remember how you were captured? He too wants the bird. But we have one thing in our favor. I know the bird's haunts. He doesn't.”

I listened to the first part of it. Then my thoughts wandered. Lovah had been chosen to give battle to the enemy. Of a sudden I felt fear strike at my innards. I knew then, that I had fallen in love with my Amazon. And I was frightened. They had seemed so few, riding back toward, what? Their doom?

"We have a long ride ahead, and a dangerous one,” Luria continued. “Talk wastes time....!”

IT WAS the longest ride I'd ever been on. Since there was no appreciable change in time, I never knew what was what. We slept, we ate, and we rode, and always the sun was overhead.

There were times for eating and sleeping and after a while I managed to gain a sort of idea from our sleeping: habits of an approximate time. We were on the trail at least one week. The topography held to about the same character until about the last day.

The first few miles of our ride after the awakening on what I called the seventh day, we rode through a narrow valley set between two high and precipitous hills. We had been in the midst of mountain country for a long time. Suddenly Luria, who was riding at the head of our little column, waved her hand to the right and swerved from the path she'd been riding on, to a narrow trail which led straight up the wall of the cliff.

The trail straightened and to my horror became part of the wall itself. Even a Rocky Mountain goat would have found it difficult traveling. Not these panthers, though. They moved swiftly, and surely along the narrow trail. Then, with an abruptness which took my breath away, the trail ended against a barrier of rock. I was next to last so I could not see what Luria was doing or where she was going. I saw only the chalky-white face of the wall towering over us. Lipso had stopped and was waiting patiently to go on.

The panther and its mount directly in front of me began a slow advance and Lipso followed. I saw then where we were heading and my wonder was boundless. A path had been hewed like a tunnel directly into the cliff. And for the first time I knew darkness on Pola.

It was instant. I don't know how the animals managed to find their way. Instinct, I suppose. But the darkness was too much for me. I couldn't see my nose in front of my face. And since our foot falls were muffled we seemed to be traveling in the silence of a tomb.

Once more the transition from dark to light was instantaneous. We were in a shallow amphitheater but one which stretched for limitless distances. We rode up to join Luria. She looked out over the mists and said in a small childish voice:

"The valley of the mists, the lair of the beast. My father took me and Mokar here once in the long ago. Mokar has never forgotten. Look...."

We followed the line of her out stretched finger and an involuntary shiver shook my frame. Never had I seen a more forbidding place. The mists were like feathers of smoke. They filled the place in breath, width and height. Now and then the mists would part for an instant and black damp rock would show monstrous shapes like a scene from Hell. Strange hissing noises came alive to lend added terror to the prospect. Luria's shoulders squared and turning to us, she said in dry, sure tones:

"We gain nothing here. The Groana bird lies there. Let us be on our way. One thing. The beast of flame lies in wait. Watch for him.”

There was but one trouble with being on our way. The instant we moved into the mists it was like stepping into a thick fog. I know I was riding along side one of the two huge women who were Luria's personal guards. The next I knew, Lipso and I were alone in this strange and terrifying world.

Lipso sensed it immediately and his steps became cautious and slow. He snuffled loudly nor was he alone. The rest of them also used their noses rather than their eyes. The mists would part now and then giving us glimpses of what lay beyond. It also permitted us to see whether we were still together. We weren't. Once I saw Hank. He looked a bit bewildered and his head was moving from side to side as though in search of Luria. The mists closed down and once more we groped our way through the fog.

I echoed in a minor chord the sudden scream which arose from the mists. It was a human scream. And hard on its heels came a roar which turned me into a block of ice. Lipso grunted a low growl and his body tensed, the muscles bunching under me as though it was getting ready to spring.

Like magic the mists parted altogether and I saw the whole of this horrendous place. We were in a grotto. Directly in front of me was one of the women guards. By her side was Hank. I as usual was the last in the parade. Off to one side away from the rest was Luria. But all of us were looking at what lay before us.

IT WAS a nightmare. The body of the I beast was a good thirty feet in length. I recognized it as the same in species as those we had encountered in the pit. But this one was the daddy of them all. Smoke and fire came from its nostrils. The great triangular head moved back and forth like a snake's. And lying under the ridiculous paws was the broken body of the other amazon....

“Back!” Luria shouted. "I'll take care of him.”

Hank's shout was lost in the roar which came from the animal's throat. I was too terrified to move. I could only watch the spectacle which followed with a fascinated horror. I noticed little things; the fact that the guard must have come onto the cave that was the beast's lair unaware of its occupant; that the panther she rode must have thrown her in his panic to escape, be cause she was lying face upward on her back; I saw too that the grotto was immense, the entrance being at least a hundred feet in height.

Then the mists closed in again. Lovah's admonition came to mind. That if I was ever in a spot to give Lipso his head. I let the reins go slack and the shape below me moved back and forth in its tracks without making a forward step. When the beast did go forward it was slowly. A rank odor so strong I had to hold my breath at intervals, wafted in to us from ahead. The roars had increased in both intensity and constancy. And now they were closer....

And again the mists lifted.

Lipso halted in his progress. A snarl rose in his throat. The tableaux had evolved in action. Luria too must have stopped when the scene was obscured. Now she went into action. Her lovely body was bent forward until it seemed to lie along the sleek black length of the panther, her spear was couched low, the long needle-tip pointed straight for the beast ahead. I saw her heels dig into Mokar's side. And with a ferocious roar, Mokar leaped forward.

I yelped in horror as Lipso followed Mokar's lead. There had been some sort of telepathic orders from either Mokar or his mistress. Because the beasts of Hank and the other guard also shot toward the beast in the grotto entrance. Luria reached the beast first though we couldn't have been more than ten feet behind. The last fifteen feet Mokar left his feet in a tremendous bound. The terror ahead rose on its hind legs, the tiny paws waving ridiculously toward the woman and her mount. But the terrible snout was open and the rows of huge teeth were an obstacle I never dreamed I'd have to face, directed toward the foolhardy things challenging it.

At the very last second Mokar changed direction with a wondrously lithe movement of his body and instead of coming in from the front, came in from the side. Then Lipso was in the air too. Instinctively I brought my spear to a position similar to the one Luria had used.

A violent roar of rage shook the air.

Luria had driven her spear straight into the leathery skin of the beast's throat. She hadn't waited for the thing to retaliate. Mokar had seen to it. His mission accomplished, Mokar turned tail and leaped to safety. But Lipso wasn't that fortunate.

I was a lot more clumsy than Luria had been. My spear glanced off the thick skin and flew to one side. My thoughts had been on the destructive power of the great teeth and jaws. I'd forgotten about his tail. Suddenly it swished around and caught Lipso full in the side. I heard him grunt softly and felt the beast below me go limp. I barely managed to fall to one side as Lipso was knocked a half dozen feet by the blow. He lay where he fell nor did he so much as move a muscle.

Now the thing had something it could vent its spleen on. I managed to get to my feet just as the beast reached me. I had been given a sword. I went for it like an outlaw goes for the Colt at his hip when the Marshall comes for him. I drew it just as I felt the beast's rank breath on my face and saw the saw teeth within a foot of me. I leaped to one side and as I did swung the long blade.

THE sword went right through the ugly snout. The most frightful roar of all went up and a thick terribly odorous mucous flowed out of the wound in a torrent. The stench of it was over powering. There was a confused sound of shouting as I backed off a couple of feet. But I was strictly intent on the thing in front of me. It hadn't given up the battle. It still had a tail and too obviously no intelligence. Though the wound I had given it was terrible, the beast seemed unaware of it. Its tail swished out again but this time I was on the watch for it. And this time I wasn't alone.

Hank's voice was low but full of strength:

"Okay, pal. Let's go to work."

This time it was we who attacked. Hank took one side and I the other. We leaped in, our swords swinging with perhaps not the finesse of the others', but certainly with better effect. For every time we struck, the steel plowed right through. Either the thickness of skin was deceptive or our strength was greater than we had ever imagined it to be. The whole slaughter couldn't have taken more than a few seconds. The last of the pieces to be dissected was the tail. Two swipes, one a forehand the other a backhand, and the tail was just a memory for Nightmare Moe.

In the meantime the other guard had joined us. Her first thrust with the spear had been a good one. She had managed to withdraw the weapon before her paavan leaped to safety. Now she stood by our side and jabbed with it like a probing needle. I wondered why until quite suddenly the beast sank down and rolled slowly over. The thing had a spot through which he could be dealt a mortal bow. The gal did it with one jab.

We stopped our swinging and stood looking at each other, our breaths coming in shallow gasps. The woman, though the label sounded silly, towered over us and had the muscles of a foundry worker. Shook her head in admiration and said:

"Truly, you two are the greatest warriors in all Pola. Never have I seen such sword strokes. Never have I seen such strength. The Habasi is not faced calmly. And this one is truly the largest I have ever seen. His skin is like the thick bark of the Ofas tree which is like a metal. Yet your blades sliced him as though he were meat ready for the table...."

She continued to shake her head in wordless admiration. I noticed that Hank, however, was no longer basking in the glow of that admiration. His head was bent to one side. Suddenly he snapped the fingers of his free hand and whirled to me.

"Luria! Where is she?"

The mists seemed to have lifted with some degree of finality. At any rate, they no longer enveloped us with their foggy, tenuous fingers. There was nothing to be seen of Luria or Mokar.

The wide nostrils of the woman spread in anger. She bent in a semi crouch, as though she were sniffing a danger not to be seen. Hank, too, kept looking from one side of the tortured bit of ground as though he thought the girl had fallen among some of the rocks. As usual, when it came to Luria, Hank was the first to guess at her whereabouts. He gathered she hadn't fled the scene. He must have also reasoned then that there was but one place she could be, the grotto that had been the Habasi's home.

Without a word or look, Hank whirled and leaped toward the entrance. I followed but not with as much enthusiasm. In fact the woman was on Hank's heels. There was a dim light as we came into the grotto proper. It died slowly until we were running in total darkness after the first few hundred feet. Suddenly, as though someone had turned on dim lights all over the cave, a radiance came to life. It wasn't much but it was enough to light our way.

WE WERE running on some sort of moss, for our footsteps were soundless. The cave was dry and rather cool. It led straight back and at a slightly downward grade. Suddenly we came against a blank wall. I mean just that. There were no forks in the road we had been running. The cave ended up against that blank wall.

“What the ..." Hank growled. "But this doesn't make sense."

“Does anything in this goofy place?" I asked.

“Then where did Luria go?” he asked.

In the meantime the woman had been moving along the wall. Suddenly she bent and began a loud sniffling some two feet from the ground.

"Mokar," she announced, "has been here. His scent is strong here...."

Hank took her at her word. But me, I was skeptical.

"Well," I ventured, "then the only conclusion is that she vanished into thin air. And knowing the young lady as well as we do, I wouldn't doubt it."

"Uh, uh," Hank said, shaking his head doggedly. “There wouldn't be any reason for it.”

"No? Perhaps her old man was a smart guy and put this Groana Bird in a place where only his daughter could get at it."

"Then why did he keep it a secret?" Hank asked.

I had no answer for that.

In the meantime the woman had been busy. Her fingers tapped the surface, ran lightly across the face, as though in search of some crack not seen by the eyes. Suddenly she let out a bark of triumph. We stepped quickly to her side.

“What's up?" I asked.

For an answer she slammed the palm of her hand against the rock. It spun away from her and before our astonished eyes we saw a long narrow room, high-ceilinged and with walls of natural rock. At the far end we saw Mokar lolling at his ease. Of Luria, nothing was to be seen. Of course we realized what had happened. The wall swung on a pivot. Luria's bodyguard had reasoned that since the trail ended there it had to continue beyond. Her sense of smell had told her that Mokar had come to that point. Unless they had disappeared into air, they had to be somewhere beyond the wall.

Hank was first to step through. I followed and the woman brought up the rear. We saw it simultaneously. In one corner of the room was an immense bird cage. Luria stood beside it crooning something to a brilliantly colored bird which rocked back and forth on a perch. She turned, saw us, smiled a welcome, and turned back to the bird. We came over and ranged ourselves beside the girl. I looked at the bird with curiosity.

They could call it what they wanted, Groana Bird, holy bird, or anything else. As far as I was concerned it was a polly. Hank had the same sentiments.

"A cockatoo,” he said in a low voice.

“Aah, shut up,” the bird suddenly screeched!

“Shut up yourself," Hank blazed.

"Okay, if that's what you want,” the bird said.

Luria turned an angry face to us.

"And just when I had soothed the Groana Bird," she said through slitted lips. "I could, I could ..." her voice trailed off in helpless syllables.

"Groana, Shmoana," I said. "What is this? He's nothing but a parrot. What's all the fuss about?"

“Yeah," the parrot said. “What's all the fuss for?”

"Do you mean," Hank asked, "that this is the holy bird your father held in such high esteem?"

“The wisest animal in the whole world,” Luria said. "What he says be comes law. We must bring him back with us."

“So okay,” I said. “Only let's get out of this dungeon. It's beginning to give me the creeps."

I had a swell idea. That is until they began searching for the door to open the cage and discovered there was none. The bars were set close enough to hold the bird prisoner. I wondered how they had placed him inside. The bird watched our parade around his cage with cocked head and jaundiced eye. After a few moments of it he broke out in his raucous voice:

“Let's not keep up this silly dance. Besides, I'm getting hungry. Let's get me out of this place."

"I'd like to twist that fool head of yours from those feathers," I said viciously.

"Ha-ha!" the bird crowed. "So would a lot of them. So come and get me...."

I SAW red then. I saw a lot of other colors, all on the bird, and I had a wild desire to tear that bird in two. I stalked forward, grabbed the bars and twisted, even though I knew I was being foolish. After all, even a dope like me could see they were made to hold something a lot stronger than a bird. But I was mad ...

They bent as though they were made of spaghetti. There was a last raucous crow of delight, a flash of color past my eyes and the voice of the bird behind me:

"Thanks, pal. I was getting tired of being a bird in a cage. Me, without no gilt...."

I whipped around and there was our little feathered friend perched on the shoulder of Luria. I was still seeing red. I gave him a fiendish look (I hoped) and stalked toward the two. Luckily, Hank stopped me.

"Aah, let 'im come," the bird said. "I'll tear 'im in two, or three. I got lots of numbers.”

“But only one life, bird. You ain't a cat. Just remember that," I mumbled darkly.

The parrot cocked his head to one side, gave Luria a sidelong look from his bright eyes and said:

"Where'd you find the squares, beautiful? What dopes! Especially the one who talks.”

"Oh, Groana Bird,” Luria said. “We have searched long for you. The days are dark on Pola since my father left to join his soul-mates ..."

That blasted bit of feathers and beak just couldn't keep quiet.

"That's what I kept tellin' the old boy. Better watch your knittin' or they're gonna take that sweater apart before you're through with it. So he perled when he shoulda knit and see what happened. But like yap-jaw says, this dungeon's beginning to give me the creeps. And I've been here a lot longer than he. So ..."

Luria's sigh of happiness, as she turned and started back, was like a song to Hank. He stepped close to her side and grinned down at her from his vantage of two inches with a grin that had it been wider would have set his ears on the other side of his head. Oh, well, I thought, now that the worst is over and we ain't got nothing else to do except pick up the marbles, maybe she'll send us back and I can finish that story for Fa ...

* * * *

They whistled up the dead woman's paavan for me and with the bird still perched on Luria's shoulder we started on the way back. Once more we moved through the valley of the mists but this time the terror was gone. Again we came to the tortuous path along the shoulder of the steep mountain side. And this time, like with all dangers circumvented, it seemed not quite so frightening. I even found myself whistling as the sleek, sure-footed panthers trotted along. We passed a twisted tree I remembered was not far from where we'd come off the main trail. And in a very short while we were on the broad trail leading back to Gayno.

At ease, now, I noticed things which had escaped me before. To our right some hundred yards, a wide river fol lowed a winding path and now and then I could see the swirling muddy waters. To our left the grass grew thick and rank, sometimes higher than a paavan's shoulder. I remembered how the women rose from the midst of grass like this and thought what an excellent ambush it would make. We were running on what I called, a path. I called it that for want of another name. Really it was a flattened area among the other grasses.

Soon we came to the short bit of parkland which once traversed, would lead us to the wider path back to Gayno. The path wound among the trees for perhaps a mile. Then we saw open reaches and shortly the trees thinned and we were racing in the open again. A soft wind ruffled my hair, the air was not too warm and the sun held a brightness which unlike ours did not irritate. For the first time in this strange land I felt peace. But not for long.

THERE must have been a thousand of them. They descended on us like flies. Luria was the first to see them. Some sixth sense warned her of their proximity, for suddenly she drew Mokar up sharp, raised a hand on high as a signal to halt, and as the ambush rose about us, shouted a warning. But it was of no avail.

We had been running with some five yards between each rider. There was no chance to get to Luria. I found myself surrounded by dozens of Loko's men. I glimpsed Captain Mita up ahead close to Luria. Then hands were reaching for my bridle. I had no chance to get my sticker out but my fists weren't tied down. I must have knocked ten of them silly before someone thought to use the hilt of a sword on my noggin. I saw more stars than the heavens held, and in a twinkling the darkness of unconsciousness.

I was being jotted like a monkey on a stick. My head rocked from side to side like someone was using it for a metronome. I had been strapped to what was undoubtedly the worst smelling man in all Pola. His stench was un bearable. I peered through bleared eyes at a long line of warriors strung out ahead of us. I managed to turn my head and saw that the line behind us was almost as long.

There was someone ahead swearing a blue streak. I couldn't make the words out but it didn't take long for me to recognize the voice. Good old Groana! He was telling them a thing or two. A lot of good it was doing, I thought. This time we wouldn't get off so easy. What was more, Loko had Luria now. I began to wonder what he wanted of her.

We came to a fork in the road which had widened, and took the right turning. After a while we came to a broad meadowland. Tents had been set up in well laid sections like streets or, suddenly I knew what, a military encampment. To our right as we entered, was a stockade where I saw a huge number of the strange beasts they used. Sentries were posted every few yards. Their discipline was excellent. The warriors deployed to their respective areas, leaving some ten to guard us as we followed Captain Mita, the giant who had slapped me around, and Loko. We drew up before the most pretentious of the tents. This proved to be Loko's personal quarters.

They had to cut me loose from the guy I was with and whoever did the cutting didn't give a hang whether or not he got some skin with it. In fact he laughed heartily as I yelped more than once when the sticker drew blood. But the moment I was on my feet all merriment ceased. The point of the man's sword tickled my spine all the way into the shady confines of the tent.

The appointments were simple, a couple of easy chairs of good design, with cushions for seats; several benches of plain wood, and a dozen low hassocks scattered about served for seats. The back wall of the tent was guarded by five men and a like number of women warriors. They stood stiffly at attention, spears held firmly in one hand while the other was at their hip in readiness to grab at the sword if needed.

Loko and the big guy found seats side by side at the far end of the tent. Loko grunted tiredly and said:

"My years are too many for these strenuous doings. Ye have given me a merry chase. Perhaps it was well that ye escaped the pit. For surely we would not have found our quarry so easily. And better, the prize she carried. Ho, guard, bring the holy bird to me...."

WE WERE standing in a close group, Hank, Luria, her guard and myself. The bird was still perched on Luria's shoulder. We had been stripped of weapons. As the guard stepped to Luria's side Hank took a single step forward and knocked the character right on his seat.

"Atta boy. Hit 'im one for me," the Groana shouted raucously. "Kick 'im in the slats."

Loko's voice was low, seemingly without anger, yet I felt a shiver:

"Ye have used force before. Shall we be compelled to answer in the same?”

"No!” Luria's answer was a clarion call. "Enough of force. For hundreds of years Pola has known nothing else. You decry the use of it yet never feel any compunctions about using it when it avails you best. By my father's name I swear the bird will avail you nought. There are other means of freeing Pola from your tyranny."

I wanted to cheer. For the first time I felt an admiration based on valid reasons, for Luria. She was all right.

The big guy up there with Loko thought so too. He let out a wordless bellow and rose to his feet.

"By the Groana Bird!” he shouted. "Loko. Your word. I want that woman, hear me?”

"Over my dead body!” came the answer from my side. It was good old Hank. Good old Hank and his good old big yap. Wasn't he ever going to learn to keep it closed? He got the only reply the other character could have given.

"I shall be only too glad to arrange that," the big guy said.

"Enough, Wost!” Loko broke in. “Brawls are for those in their cups. Save it for then. Now then. Enough of this. Bring the bird up here."

This time no one raised either fist or voice when two of the guards stepped out and took the bird from Luria's shoulder. The one who was carrying the bird carried it gingerly and when he got to Loko handed it to the old man with fingers that shook palpably. There was the strangest look of triumph on Loko's face as he got the bird.

"Now," and this time his voice was raised in ecstasy, "now I shall rule. By the sign of the Holy Groana Bird. By the sign of his feathers, by the sign of his wisdom and by the sign of my possession...."

"Aah, nuts," said the parrot unexpectedly.

"Holy Bird,” Loko said in tones of awe, as though the goofy parrot had said something beyond his comprehension, "say more in your infinite wisdom."

"Is this character square?” the bird asked. “Why don't he get the score straight? Boy, oh boy! How did this oldy get dealt in?"

"I don't know," I said. “Maybe you can arrange his getting dealt out?"

"That's allroony with me, allreeti, allreeti,” Groana Gaillard said.

LOKO kept shifting his glance from the bird to me and back again as we carried on. His fingers tapped nervously together in constant motion and his brow showed irritable corrugations in his effort to understand.

"What does he say?” Loko asked me in petulant tones.

"Ingimsay an ongsay," Hank shot at me from the side of his mouth.

"The Holy Bird says,” I began as portentously as I could, "that he is weary and needs rest."

"But of course,” Loko made haste to fall in to the suggestion. "May he for give an old man's stupidity. Many, many years have passed in his incarceration. May the memory of the man who enslaved him become dust in our mouths, a stench in our nostrils.”

“Gadzooks!” Groana Pistole said. "The varlet needs a cup to wander in. 'Pon my soul! An' by my Lud Harry, with whom I spent many a roistering night, get him one and fill it with the dregs of the grape so that Merry Eng land shall have peace this day."

"Peace? Peace?” Loko said. "He de sires peace?"

"Aah! Shut up!” the bird said and bent and nipped Loko on the lobe of the nearest ear.

"He means quiet," I said. "And if I am allowed a word....?"

Loko held one hand to his wounded ear and said:

"Say on...."

I decided that formality was the note to strike. Loko liked it well:

"The Holy Bird has some small affection for the girl. Since it is obvious she cannot escape, perhaps it were best that he stay with her."

"No! I do not trust her. Further, she is, as are the rest of you, my prisoners. I have as yet not decided the disposition I intend of ye.”

“ 'Tis a sorry day f'r the Irish, me lad," Groana Fitzgerald said. “An' sure an' if it's the last act of me life I'll kiss the Blarney Stone on me hands and knees but let me have a chance at a shillalah...."

"You see, Loko," I said in triumph, "another word, a single syllable of denial to his desires, and he promises to call on the holy Blarney Stone. Believe me. Woe betide anyone accursed by the Stone."

Loko blanched to the color of wet ivory at the words. The only one of the three, Loko, Mita and Wost, who showed no alarm at the words, was Wost. But then he was probably too dull-witted to know fear.

"But of course, of course the Holy Bird can stay with the girl,” Loko said quickly. "I was but thinking of its security.”

"Is that schmoe kidding?” Groana Hope asked.

“What does he say? What does he say?” Loko asked. He was like a kid before a mike without a quiz-master.

"He says he's tired and wants to rest," I said.

"Assuredly. Assuredly,” Loko said, shaking hands and head at the same time. "The time for sleep has come. Captain Mita. Escort the prisoners."

"Guests might be a better word,” I said, being brave all of a sudden.

For the first time Loko showed anger. His eyes blazed for an instant, then hid themselves behind hooded lids. His voice held an icy edge when he said:

"Prisoners.... Do not try my patience...."

I shrugged my shoulders in a gesture of bravery I certainly didn't feel. I knew I was shaking, quivering in fear, yet somehow, I managed to say in quite normal tones:

"Okay. Let it be like you say. Only let's stop with all this talk. I said the bird was tired. Do we have to talk some more about that?"

“Take them to their quarters,” Loko bit out.

Captain Mita and his men played escort. It was just to another tent, one not too far from Loko's. There was no question, however, that we were going to be prisoners. Mita posted enough guards around the tent to guard an army. They stood shoulder to shoulder in a huge square, and within that square another, these, backs to the others, and also shoulder to shoulder.

This tent didn't have the accommodations Loko's had. It was not to be expected. But there were several cushions. Luria and her personal guard took those. I hid a smile. Here were a couple of dames who were doing their best to act like men yet used a woman's prerogative immediately the chance presented itself. Hank and I found the ground hard but not too much so.

Very soon after we made ourselves comfortable the feeling for sleep manifested itself. It was a strange thing, this feeling for sleep. There was no night or day on Pola since the sun shone all the time. And the business of sleep was as regulated an affair as though there had been passed a law about it. One's eyes became heavy, one's every muscle felt an odd relaxing and very soon afterward one simply relaxed somewhere and went to sleep.

The strangest part of it all was that sleep was instantaneous all over Pola. It was not up to the individual as to when he slept. When one slept, all slept.

A WAKENING, too, took place simultaneously. I yawned once or twice, arose and stretched and looked at the others. The parrot blinked its eyes, cocked its head and said:

"Well, bless our little.... Say! how's about putting on the feed bag, kids?"

Luria and the other woman looked to me. And I suddenly became aware that I had been relegated to the par rot's interpreter. Not that Hank couldn't understand, but I had assumed the position in Loko's headquarters. I wasn't too happy about it. But I wasn't in any position to do anything about it now.

"He just wants to eat,” I said sourly.

"Something wrong in that?” the bird asked. "Or am I supposed to live on air?'

"Aah, don't get so fussy," I said. “How did you manage in that cave?”

"It was like this, short, dark and ugly," the bird said. "Believe it or not, I was in a trance.”

"So put yourself back in a trance again, and forget about feeding that ugly face of yours," I said.

I ducked just in time. Before the last word had left my lips, Luria leaped for me. She swung a little late. Hank got there before she could swing again. She was white-faced in anger.

"I listened to him berate the Holy Bird yesterday and could barely contain my anger. I did so because he is your friend. But I can no longer contain my anger."

“Daughter....Daughter...."

We all looked to the parrot, who at Luria's sudden move had hopped to the hassock for safety. He was using a new voice now. Low, deep, flexible, it was a caressing voice, yet not a weak one. It brought Luria up short. I heard her whisper, "Father.” Then the bird was talking again:

"Have all my teachings been in vain? Is anger the only vessel of those which I had placed at your disposal, the one to be used? Anger blinds one's senses, disturbs the delicate balance of reason, and as I once said, should only be used as a dart is used, for purposes of irritation.

"Surely is your predicament great. Surely is the hand of the traitor, Loko, heavy on your shoulders. He seeks the enslavement of all Pola, yet in your womanly manner you seek quarrels. Bend all your energies to the frustration of his desires and ambitions. Use these two whom you have brought from another plane of time and space to your help. Waste not their uses in arguments. Once I taught you the eyes, ears, nostrils, and all other physical senses can be tamed and put to the purpose for which they were intended. How little understanding was given to my teachings...."

"No, father!” Luria breathed sharply. “No...."

"Perhaps. But had you been alert in all your being, surely you would have understood the badinage between this man and myself. Silence would have been my weapon had I been displeased. But I think altogether, that perhaps the true reason for your lack of understanding lies in your having forgotten some thing I once said in your hearing.

"Daughter. Do you remember a day you walked into a council meeting? You sat at my feet and heard me tell them about the Holy Groana Bird. It was the first you heard of it. It was also the first they heard of it. I told them that in this bird was all the wisdom, past, present and future. Then, as you sat and watched I called for a slave to bring the bird forth. They marveled at the strange creature, for never had they seen one with such plumage. That very afternoon I spoke to you about trans migrations of bodies in space and time. You were old enough, wise enough and learned enough even then to add together the ingredients of the pot and come to the proper conclusion.

"For why, you should have asked, has there never been another such bird found? And how is it possible that this bird alone, of all the feathered beings in the world, is possessed of so much wisdom? I thought you understood. I was wrong. However, that is in the past. The present is bleak indeed. Therefore let us speak of the future. Loko has naught but ill in his bosom for all of you. Death lies across the threshold. How shall we circumvent him?"

LITTLE by little as the bird continued with his talk, we had drawn up close around him. We were a very tight circle about the hassock on which he stood perched.

“Daughter. Many years were spent in the teaching of the paavan I gave you. Mokar has the instincts of a wild animal. But he has been taught reason. Almost to the capacity of a human. He as well as the mounts of Loko's min ions, is in the stockade at the beginning of the encampment. Send a thought wave to him. Tell him to escape and bring the rescuers to us ..."

I glanced over my shoulder and saw that Luria had her eyes closed. In a second she opened them and smiled. She shook her head as though she had fol lowed her father's instructions.

"... Then let us wait as best we can the coming of Jimno and the others. For I think Loko has thought over the arguments of your friend and has decided it were best I were with him."

The bird must have been psychic. The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the tent flaps were thrown back and Mita entered at the head of a squad of men. Without a word he marched up and swept his hand down and grabbed up the bird. The bird let out a frightened squawk but before he could utter another sound Mita drew a hood from his belt and threw it over the parrot's head. In the meantime his squad stood guard with drawn swords over us. We had no chance to do any thing about it.

"Tell Loko," Luria said as Mita was about to leave, "that it will do him no good. The Holy Bird has a will of its own...."

Mita smiled craftily.

"I do not doubt that,” he said softly. But it is only a bird. If none but Loko hears the pearls of wisdom from its lips who will deny them?”

"I will,” Luria said stoutly.

"A carcass has no voice or reason," Mita said, grunted softly at the startled looks on our faces, and left.

“Why, those dirty, dirty....” Hank snarled and became silent for fear that his words would offend their ears.

But I was way ahead of them. So that was Loko's game. I had to admire the old character's shrewdness. All he had to do was slit the bird's tongue. Then who was there to say that Loko hadn't heard what he said he did? The bird wasn't going to be able to talk for itself. And we weren't going to be in any position, at least not until the dead can be resurrected, to be able to deny what Loko said.

Hank was pounding a fist into a palm. His gray-green eyes were bleak, and his face had that stony look of in tense anger. I could almost read his mind. Evidently Luria also could.

“There's no use in empty and useless speculations or threats," she said. “We are helpless until help arrives. So let us be of good cheer.”

“But how do you know help will come?” Hank asked.

She smiled and I thought of the Mona Lisa. “Mokar will not fail us,” she said.

"Mokar....?” "He is well on his way."

"But that stockade," Hank said. "How was he able to, to ...? But of course," understanding came to him, "I only hope he will make it in time. I think Loko won't give us too much of that commodity."

I stuck my two cents in:

"And Loko's just the sort of guy who'd keep us on tenterhooks, draw the time out, let us think that maybe he won't cut our throats or whatever they're going to do, until the last second. Somehow, though, I have an idea that it won't be too soon."

A deep sigh turned our attention to the gigantic woman who was standing by Luria's side.

"What's wrong, Sanda?” Luria asked.

"I'm hungry," was the simple reply.

“The big gal talks sense,” I said. “So am I."

BUT food wasn't to come for a long time. We sat around, lay around, talked, kept quiet, did everything to make the time pass more quickly. Luria and Hank got together in a corner and found things in common. I gathered without being told, that Hank was pitching woo at her and from the look on her face she wasn't finding it hard to take. But me, I was lost. The other member of our party was built along the lines of an overweight wrestler. Be sides, she was a little short of the gray matter. About all there was for me was some silent philosophy. And that's pretty difficult to do in my position.

When food did come there was enough of it to feed an army.

“Like we'd asked for a last meal," Hank said.

I was taking a bite on something that tasted pretty good. But at that I kind of lost my appetite.

"Why don't you gag yourself?” I asked.

"How about you doing it?” he want ed to know.

"I got both hands busy, dope," I said.

“So why don't you try eating with your feet? Ten fingers aren't enough for you."

"Look, sponge-head," I began edgily. I didn't like the tone of his voice. “I didn't ask to come along on the ride. So don't play Sad-Sack for my benefit...."

"Oh, hell, Berk,” he said. "I'm sorry.”

“Don't be square,” I said quickly. "That was no joke, son."

The two women kept giving us wondering glances. Luria could understand the King's English, but our version was over her head. The other gal was just size, no quality, except in muscle, of course. Suddenly the thought came to me how to make time pass. Talk, I had discovered long ago, is the finest devourer of time.

“Y'know," I said, “I've always been curious as to how you managed this business of, now I'm here, now I'm not. Just how do you do it?"

Tiny furrows formed between her eyebrows as she concentrated in an explanation which would be simple enough, yet explanatory:

"Oddly enough,” she said, “it's a great deal more simple than you would imagine. Yet in one sense, more complex. You see, the whole thing is a matter of, shall we say, mind over matter...."

"So you said and you're glad," I broke in. "Elucidate on this bit of mental gymnastics."

“... But because it is mind triumphing over matter the explanation is far more difficult than, say, the process of digestion,” she went on as though there hadn't been an interruption.

"Now I understand," I said. "How simple the whole thing is, dear. But you're so clever...."

“Let her be, Berk,” Hank said. "Go on, baby."

"Baby?” The word wasn't new to her but its connotation in the sense Hank gave, was.

"A term of endearment," I said. “But as Hank says, go on.”

"Yes-s. . . . Well. I simply think the object or person into another dimension of space and time. And that is the whole thing put as simply as I can."

"Fine. I don't get it! Tell me this now. When we first saw you, you were dressed in clothes very much the same as the women wear on our planet. How'd you do that?”

"I realized the instant the transposition took place and I saw the manner of dress of your women that I would be

taken for a stranger. Not knowing the customs of your planet or country, I knew I had to do something about it. So I..."

NOW wasn't that like a woman, I thought. Give her a joke to tell and she's a cinch to forget the pay line; give her a story and at the most interesting part she'll get that far-away look like as if she'd just remembered something she saw in a blouse and couldn't quite remember the shop. It was Hank, how ever, who nudged her on:

"So you what?" "I lost my material self,” she said.

I thought I heard right. But I wanted to make sure:

“You dood? Lucky you found it. What do you mean?"

“I mean I was no longer flesh and blood. For example, the outfit I wore. I got that from a shop on a city avenue. I remember it was dark and I simply walked in through the masonry and glass, took the outfit I wanted and left. It was not the time for sleep so I walked about. I also remember an experiment I performed. This disappearance of material self was new to me. There was a man coming toward me. I walked straight at and through him. I remember it so well because he was with a woman and they were holding a conversation. He did not lose a word as I stepped through him.”

So there were ghosts. They all come from Pola. H'm. Could that mean there was no Heaven, no Hell, just Pola? Aah. What was I thinking? Hank, it developed, wasn't thinking what I was.

"How simple it all is,” he said. “All you have to do is dematerialize, step through the tent and escape.”

"I thought of that and ... No. We are all in this together. So we'll remain."

“But Loko will put you to death," Hank pointed out.

“When that bridge is on us we'll think about the crossing. Let us wait to see what Mokar brings."

"I don't know what he's bringing," I said. "But I hope he makes it fast. My patience is running out.”

"Then you'll have to renew it," Luria said sharply. "Mokar might have come to Jimno in the midst of an engagement. What's more, they have to be certain that the children are in a safe place; that there will be enough guards; then they must locate Lovah and her force...."

"Lovah? Coming here?” I asked.

“But of course. Jimno's forces will not be enough."

The whole situation was bathed in a new light. I was light-hearted Joe, ready for a lark or a wrestle, but now that my Lovah—honey was going to be involved—well! Things were shaping up. And not to my liking, either.

"But holy cats!” I said. "Even with Lovah's warriors there won't be enough to make a decent fight."

"It will be a combination of several factors," she pointed out. "In the first place there will be the element of surprise; secondly, Jimno and Lovah will not attack from the same direction; and thirdly, there is the factor of the paavans...."

I asked what they had to do with it.

“They were bred not for riding alone. Wait,” she promised. “You will see how terrible they can be."

Hank got to whispering to her again so I sat in my little corner and digested what she told me. Maybe we had a chance. Then I got to thinking of the parrot and how she was going to man age to get him out of Loko's clutches. Hang it! I kept thinking of the bird as a material being. It was Luria's father, of course. Then I thought how silly that was, especially if one said it aloud. Then I stopped thinking.

Again time marched on. Suddenly I saw Luria place her hand to Hank's lips. He stopped talking and I stopped dreaming. She had heard something, something to which our Earthly ears were not attuned. She arose with a movement akin to one of her paavans, she rose lithely and stepped toward the tent opening. The rest of us followed suit.

“They come,” she whispered. “I hear them in my mind. I don't know their plans, so be prepared for anything."

SHE warned us. But what happened was the last thing I thought would happen. Fire arrows...!

There must have been hundreds of them. They fell with tiny hissing sounds and whatever they touched burst into flame. In an instant the entire com pound was a mass of fire and smoke. But we didn't wait to see what was going to happen next. Not us. We were the Rover Boys and gals, and we roved but fast, to hell and gone out of there.

A torment of sound stuck our ear drums as we hit the open air. There were the terror-stricken sounds of men and women caught in the inferno, and above those were the horrible screams of animals tied to stakes and unable to es cape. A pungent acrid odor came to my nostrils, an odor hard to place until I brought to mind a roast that had be come too well-done.

I was just standing, listening open mouthed to the horror around me, when I heard a wild scream of exultation almost in my right ear. I pivoted and saw Luria, her face transfigured, looking straight down the avenue formed by the rows of tents. I understood her cry of triumph when I saw what was sweeping down the avenue. Mokar, riderless, was in the lead and directly behind him was Lovah and Jimno riding neck and neck in a wild race to get to us first,

Mokar paused only long enough for Luria to mount and get Hank up behind her and then, headed straight for the center tent, Loko's quarters. Lovah, looking like one of the Valkyrie, only prettier, paused long enough for me to get on behind, then she was off after her queen. She handed me one of the two swords she held clenched in each of her dainty, though dangerous, fists.

She raised hers on high and screamed:

"For the Queen! Death to Loko and his!”

But it wasn't quite that easy. Captain Mita and the giant were no stupes. They were caught flat-footed, shocked with surprise. But it didn't last long. Only long enough for them to start a dispersal of their forces. And the first thing they did, as though they realized the whole purpose of the attack, was to ring Loko's tent with guards. We rode, like the six hundred, into the jaws of death.

I don't know how many Luria had at her disposal; I had no chance to count even if I wanted to, but certainly they weren't many. We hit the outer shell of the ring with the force of a battering ram, broke through and were swallowed by the inner rings. And, baby, were those guys and gals tough! Loko hadn't picked these babies for their kindness to their fellow-beings. They played the wood-choppers ball pretty good with their stickers.

By some quirk of fate Loko's tent was one of several the fire-arrows had missed. All around us the other tents blazed in fury. I caught a quick glimpse of them, then had no time for anything but the defense of my life and Lovah's too. Her arm was swinging a death tune to whoever was within reach of that terrible plaything. As for me, I was also swinging, maybe not with the assurance or ease of Lovah, but with as terrible effect. As I said before, I had discovered a strange thing about Pola. My strength was multiplied ten-fold for some reason, and though I did not always hit a vulnerable spot, the power of my blow when it did land was enough to decide the issue immediately.

But there was only one of me and Hank. The sheer weight of their numbers, plus the addition of reinforcements which kept arriving, lost us the encounter. A shrill whistling sound was suddenly heard and Lovah's face turned to mine with a dismal look of despair on it. I heard her words:

"Retreat! Luria calls retreat...."

THEN her mount's head was turned and we were racing like the wind back down the avenue of tents for the open ground beyond. We raced into the flat and kept running. I kept turning my head and saw Jimno. My heart leaped in my throat in sudden terror. I couldn't spot Hank or the girl. My pulse raced in time to the bounding paces of Lovah's paavan when I saw them at last. They were the last two out of the compound. Like a true queen, Luria had waited till the last of her subjects were away before she retreated.

We continued running at top speed for quite some time. As we raced on ward endlessly Lovah gave me a resume of what had happened:

"Jimno is wonderful. A born leader. He caught the rear guards who had been left in town flat-footed. They hadn't a chance, and we mashed them to bits. Then we did an about face, ran in different directions, met at the rendezvous and made for the groups which we knew would be scouring the countryside for us. One by one we smashed them until at the end they were forced to join together. That was the moment for the third part of our forces to strike. The enemy was tired; we had fought them to a stand-still, and when the fresh forces attacked, they fled. Only to be met,” she ended proudly, "by the paavans we let loose. Aah! The terror and destruction our wondrous paavans meted out!”

I could well imagine. I'd seen those gigantic panthers at work only a short while before, and what they could do to human flesh was not pretty.

She went on:

“... But we were still too-few. Loko must have enlisted the aid of every warrior on Pola. More and more kept coming. Their sheer numbers would have lost any pitched battle. We had to let off finally. Then came the message from our Queen...."

I looked from side to side and tried to gauge how many there were of us. It couldn't be done. We were strung out in a long line and since we were running in the flat which reminded me of the prairie of a Midwestern state, many of them were out of sight in the hip high grass.

“Are we retreating to some plan?" I asked.

“Yes. The Great Forest lies ahead. Not even the bravest of all the warriors on Pola would dare venture in its depths. Ambush is only a matter of hiding behind a tree. Loko isn't that big a fool."

AFTER a while Luria's forces merged until we were no longer stretched out in a long line although we were still riding loosely in groups of ten or twelve. Both Luria and Jimno rode their mounts close so that the three of our paavans were running abreast.

Luria seemed dispirited. Hank had his mouth close to her ear and I could see he was trying to break her mood. Maybe I know more about dames than Hank does. At any rate I put my two cents in.

"Cheer up, kid," I said. "We haven't lost yet...."

"We won't lose at all!” she said. "I wasn't thinking of how the battle stands. It's, it's ..."

I divined her worry. That silly bird. H’m! To her it wasn't silly at all. It was her father.... I kind of grinned and she noticed it.

"He smiles,” she said grimly. "He is more brave even than I thought. The moment is dark and your friend smiles, Hank. He is a man."

"He's a damn fool,” Hank said. But his eyes were twinkling in fondness. Henry Fondness, I called him. “He just doesn't know when to worry.”

"The only thing I worry about is meeting a deadline for Ray Palmer," I replied. "But that wasn't what I was thinking about. I think I know what's bothering our pretty Queen. The bird. Aha! I was right...."

She had turned her head in surprise.

"... Well. I'm not raising an issue, understand, when I say stop beating that pretty head against a wall. The bird is just one of the many things that I don't understand about this place. But you understand. That's what counts. So it's simple. He says he's your father. Then surely he won't play tricks with you. Loko seemed greatly impressed with him."

“You forget,” she broke in. "All Loko has to do is wring the bird's neck ..."

Hank was ahead of us both.

"He can't,” Hank said. "The bird is a symbol known to everyone. But unless a symbol is visual it loses its significance. Your father was more than just smart. He gave himself the body of a bird the likes of which can't be found anywhere on this planet. Loko won't be able to find a substitute so he'll have to let him live. He will probably rig some sort of fol-de-rol about him being the only one able to understand the bird's words, or perhaps the only one who is allowed to converse with the bird. He can't afford harm to come to the bird."

Of course my thoughts ran in an altogether different direction. I'd been puzzling about the bird without get ting any satisfactory answer. Maybe I wasn't supposed to. But if the old gent had been such a world-beater in the wisdom line, he hadn't proved it by doing what he had. What was more, I didn't believe the bird. That business of imitating Barry Fitzgerald, and the others -of course with four or five different voices he would sound more mysterious. On the other hand, if he was that smart he should have been smart enough to have known that Loko and any one else who wanted to rule had but to find him and such a situation that was now at hand, would come about. There was something not very bright about that bird, or something too bright for me to get.

Lovah whispered in an aside to me. I didn't hear her and she repeated:

"The Great Forest is at hand. Very soon it will welcome us."

I looked ahead and saw a wall of trees which stood so close together not a shred of light seeped into their depths.

"You could hide an army in there," I said.

“As I told you,” Lovah agreed. "But how do we get in?” I asked.

"The paavans will find the path. This is where we find them."

SHE spoke the truth about the panthers knowing their way. Straight as a die they sped for the solid wall ahead. As we came close the place looked a little terrifying. We had to stretch out again in a single line. Luria took the lead, Lovah, with me grasping her close about the waist a little more tightly than usual, came next. I caught a glimpse of Jimno holding up his mount. I imagined he was going to cover the rear. Then we were in the damp darkness of the forest that was really primeval.

Strange cries rang out as we crossed the border between light and darkness. Rank odors filled our nostrils. It took several seconds for our eyes to accustom themselves to the gloom. Fitful rays of light seeped through the tangled foliage. But nowhere was to be seen a single area even a few feet across on which the blessed sun fell.

As we proceeded deeper I became aware of hidden creatures, some quite large, stalking us from the borders of brush which were walls too thick to penetrate. Now and then one of these creatures let out a sound to betray its presence. There were roars which could come only from the throats of a paavan, shrieks which terrified because one didn't know or could imagine their owners. My hair stood on end for so long a time I thought it was starched.

"Where are we bound for?” I asked, and suddenly realized I'd spoken in a whisper.

"In a little while we will come to our trysting place," Lovah said.

She knew what she was talking about, all right. Quite suddenly the trees thinned and I caught a vista of an immense meadow. Then the trees closed in again. But as though the glimpse of the promised haven lent wings to the feet of the paavans, they sped forward with increased speed. Too much speed. Be cause when we passed the last line of trees we were traveling at such speed we couldn't stop or disperse. The am bush which had been laid for us was perfect.

THEY must have known of it. Or perhaps Jimno and Lovah hadn't done such a good job, or perhaps, more reasonably, they had tortured someone into telling the hidden secret. But they fell on us with the force of limitless numbers.

At least ten of them surrounded Lovah and myself. They were mounted on the monstrous lizard things. In the still-tangled brush before the open meadow, their mounts had the speed of ours. It was the pay-off, I thought, as I began to flay about me with the sticker Lovah had given me.

The ones who surrounded my gal and me were women. For the barest second I had some misgivings about using the sword in my fist. But only until one of them missed me with a wild swing. Then I swung. The blade went through her like a knife going through soft butter. Her mount kept moving forward and for a second her body hung together. Then the top half separated from the bottom and rolled off. But I hadn't time to gloat over it. These dames were crazy. They'd spur up and jab and swing, get in each other's way, all trying to knock us off at one time. Lovah had gone to the proper school. Her timing would have made Joe Louis green with envy. Nor did she waste motions in wild swinging. Every stroke of her sword was clipped and sharp. If only I wasn't behind her.

I proved the handicap. And the denouement. For in one of my wild swings I knocked her off balance. And myself off the paavan. I reached wildly with my free hand, tried to maintain a semblance of equilibrium, and in the end got neither and fell off. The women fell on me with savage screams of exultation. How I managed to fight my way clear of the forest of cleaver-like blades which thirsted for my blood, is a mystery to me. But somehow I did, to get to a nearby tree. I wanted the protection of its thick trunk. I knew it was only a temporary respite. Still I could not give up hope.

That I did not escape to my temporary haven without damage went with out saying. Why Hank and I had never exchanged our garments for the more protective, though scantier garb of the Polans, I do not know. But at that moment, with my back to the thick tree trunk, I wished we had. I was bleeding from several nicks and one gash; a sword had ripped across the flesh of my chest, splattering me with a crimson rain. It wasn't a mortal blow, only a flesh wound, but I knew that if I didn't receive attention it would prove damaging. Far more so than the other wounds I got.

My shirt hung by scattered slivers of blood-soaked threads to my body. One sleeve had been torn completely away. The blood had run down into my trousers which were torn by the briars and looked more ragged than a hobo's. I sweated and stank like a draught horse on a hot summer's day. And I was besieged by a dozen women who thirsted for my life. The instant I was unmounted six others had come up on the run. I hacked away inexpertly but with telling damage. And gradually the sheer strength I displayed won both their admiration and their respect.

I managed a quick glance around during a short breathing spell. We weren't doing so well. I could see any number of riderless paavans. Of Luria and Hank nothing.... Then they were at me again. Once more I took up the seemingly endless task. And this time it was harder. No longer did they come at me together, getting in each other's way, fouling up their sword play and making themselves easy marks for my blade.

This time they came at me singly and in quick succession. And on dancing feet. My swings were a little wilder, a little slower. I stopped after a moment and waited until one came in range before swinging. Again they changed their tactics. This time two came at me at once, one from right and the other from the left. And while I tried to keep both off, two more came from in front. I knew it was but a matter of a short while and they would wear me down. Nor was I wrong. Three times in a row I got the point of a sword in me, not deeply, but damagingly.

I HAD a last resort. Hy speed afoot. 1 I could outrun them. Suddenly I leaped straight forward. I jabbed twice, missed one and got the second, and lost my sword in the maneuver. It went in too deeply and I had no time to pull it free. But I no longer cared. For coming toward me at a full gallop, was Lovah. I had lost sight of her after I had been knocked off her paavan. I could see as we rushed to meet each other that she too had not escaped unscathed from the fray. One arm hung limp, there was a bloody streak across the firm white flesh of a shoulder. But her eyes were ablaze and her face alight.

We were almost at meeting's point when I suddenly sprawled face down ward in the marshy loam I was in. A creeper had tripped me. I struggled to get to my feet. But after two tries my knees gave way and I fell, rolling to my back.

The sky, seen through the filigree of black branches never looked so blue. Of course there were no clouds, just the cerulean blue which merged into the gold of the eternal sun. All this in the space of seconds. Then another some thing intruded into the scope of my vision. It was only a side-wise glance. Terror and death was coming my way. The most gigantic woman I'd ever seen was leaping toward me on huge splay feet, in her hand a sword fully ten feet long. Her expression was demoniac with transfigured fury. Her great breasts were bare and like those of monstrous cattle. I was powerless to move. The sweat was a sour river pouring down my face, saturating me in its stench. I felt a horror beyond words as she slid to a halt at my very side. Then the sword was lifted high above her head, her both hands clenched about the hilt.... Eons went by, worlds were born and died, civilizations crumbled and death marched to muffled drum beats and stepped before me and bared its horrendous snout to my eyes and its cavernous mouth opened to swallow me ... and the sword shot downward!

I heard the thin screech and swish of it, felt its cold breath on my cheek but saw it not. My eyes were closed for that infinitesimal instant. They opened and I saw its silvery length quivering and undulating beside my cheek like a frustrated pendulum. To one side stood the giantess her hands tight about the blade of a sword which stuck out of both sides of her thick throat. She was trying to free her flesh of its grasp. Then her hands fell to her sides and a thick stream of blackish-blood poured from her mouth, her nose, her throat, and enveloped her in a redly-funereal garment.

“Quickly!” a voice came from above me.

I looked dazedly in its direction. There she was, my Lovah, a delight to my eyes and a balm to my soul and a savior of my flesh. Her hand, firm and strong as a man's reached down and took my lax fingers and hauled me erect. I let myself go limp across the thickly-muscled shoulders of her paavan. Her fingers fell lightly across my sent courage coursing through me. I bent my head back and she brought her face down and once more our lips met, not as they had before, in passion, but in the gentle caress of true love.

Her hand lay across my shoulder as we turned to face the enemy. Fear had been banished from our hearts though our arms were gone from us....

They surrounded us. They were many and though they were armed and we were not they moved carefully, as though they could not believe our state or the fact that there were only two of us. We waited for their stings to bite us....

"Alive! Take them alive!” one of them called unexpectedly. "The man is the one who escaped the Pit!”

THE beast across which I lay stank to high heaven. I was bound hand and foot and lay belly down across its rump. Behind me rode one of the Amazons. Somewhere behind Lovah rode prisoner also. Now and then we passed clumps of dead and though it was impossible to count them, I could see when the bobbing motion of the elk lizard allowed, that the greater part of the heaps of dead were Lok's people rather than Luria's. Not that I received any consolation from it. Now that I had passed safely through the period of shock following the battle, I could see again with at least a small measure of equanimity what lay ahead. The future to put it in technicolor, wasn't very bright. In fact someone had exposed the film before shooting. For some reason I had stopped bleeding. I was on the weak side but at least I wasn't going to bleed to death. Hooray for me, I thought. They're probably saving me for a fate worse than death. I wouldn't have given a hang had it not been for Lovah.

Oddly enough our ride was shorter than any I had gone on willfully or otherwise. Whether my senses had dulled to time in this strange land or whether the ride was short it didn't take us long. The pueblos of Loko's town hove into view shortly.

There were lines of people waiting our arrival. I could feel their hatred though I could not see them. I could feel as we passed through the oddly silent cordon of hating men, women and children, that we were the objects of their hate, and possibly of their revenge. I could understand it too. We, Jovah and I, were the symbols of the death many of Loko's people met. Oh, it was true that we weren't directly responsible. But we were here, and we were prisoner. We rode a gamut there under the hot sun and not a finger was raised in our defense. I heard Lovah's first shriek of pain, her first outcry. There were no more: I suffered the tortures of the damned until we reached our goal. For from my own experience, I knew what Lovah must have gone through. They had used their fists, clubs, their teeth and nails and feet on me. Stones had pelted me until it seemed as though there wasn't a whole bone in my body. But I was damned if I'd let a single sound of pain escape me. And Lovah had allowed only the first cry to pass her lips.

Those were the physical things. There were dirtier, nastier things, ordure and worse which stung us. But at the end we came within the orbit of Loko's palace and some small measure of safety from the browd. Our bonds were cut and even as I staggered around on stumbling feet I saw that Lovah was all right. But they gave us no rest. Once more I met the long halls and corridors of Loko's pal ace. And once more we were dragged before the dais on which stood the table and throne. This time Loko, Captain Mita and the giant warrior sat without their women. I gathered it was a change of time.

Loko no longer looked the benevolent old man. His face was no longer benign or wise. It was twisted in an expression of absolute rage. Saliva, white-frothed like foam had gathered at the corners of his mouth and hung suspended like soap bubbles.

"Little beasts! ... Animals! ... Traitors, she-devil and he-devil ... You thought to make small of me... but my trap caught you.... Ahh! That they did not make it strong enough for the arch devil woman, Luria. But she will not escape long. Already they seek her.... She will be found. By her hair, by her toe nails will I have her dragged before me! And also her consort, the devil from another world! ... He didn't bring a magic more powerful than what I possess."

"Aah, shut up!” I snarled up at the shrieking old loon. "You sound like you're losing your marbles. Not that you ever had any."

MY WORDS stopped the tirade. I thought I caught a gleam of admiration in Mita's eyes. But the old man had the floor and he was going to keep it. Suddenly he grinned and I noticed for the first time that he had no teeth. Well, after all if I were as old as he I don't imagine I'd have any either.

"The fool teaches the wise," he said. "You are quite right, my friend...."

"Don't call me friend," I said sharply.

"... I permitted my emotions the up per hand. But only for the moment. In anger. Now they must savor another pleasure. This one, however, I had promised myself on your first escape. I had thought to hold myself until I had your friend and the woman, Luria, altogether...."

Once more I broke in:

"I'll never dance at your wedding, you old goat, but I hope to caper at your funeral.”

“... but since that isn't possible at this moment, I will contain myself for the present. Of course I must have the satisfaction of a partial enjoyment. Slaves! The whips!"

I was too weak to fight. I was too weak to even stand. But I was damned if I'd give way. Not so long as there was breath in my body, or so I thought.

They bound us together face to face. Not just our hands and feet but strands of wire-rope about our waists and legs also. I could see the man who had the whip to be used on Lovah and she could see the one who was to do the dirty work on me. But neither could see their respective whippers. They shoved us around until they had us satisfactorily arranged to Loko's liking.

“Lean your head on my shoulder," I said. “If it gets bad, honey, take a good bite out of my shoulder, cry, sing, do anything but scream. I won't be able to take that...."

All the time I was talking I was waiting. I had an idea the old devil on the dais was going to give the signal for the torture to begin by a nod of his head. His mind operated that way. It was the reason why he had us placed in profile to those on the platform. He knew the psychological torture we were going through.

I had always wondered what could be the most terrible thing in the world. I found it out then. Waiting! Just plain waiting for anything. Especially when you know it's going to be unpleasant. I could get a very unsatisfactory glimpse of Loko and the others from a corner of one eye. It wasn't enough to define movements, or even to see the shake of a head, but I could see them. As the seconds dragged by I tried to turn my head to see more. The men who had bound us were masters of their art. So subtly had they wrought with the strands of wire rope that though I could move my head it was only to the part of an inch. More, and I would strangle.

My attention was suddenly focused on the bronzed giant who was standing, whip in hand, behind Lovah. The muscles in his arms and shoulders were like those of some Atlas. He had stood impassive and immobile while others had pushed us about. Suddenly he flexed his arms, the muscles rippling, flesh like-water. The immensely long whip coiled writhingly on the stone floor, as though it were a snake in agony. I saw then, that the lash was divided in three parts, like a very long thonged leash. He raised the whip and moved it about. Faster and faster until it began to sing in the air. Suddenly he snapped it. The sound was like that of a pistol shot. Lovah, who was unaware of what was going on gave a startled movement of fear. I looked in her eyes and grinned.

"Gonna be tough," I said. "I love you, honey.... It's a hell of a time to say that. But maybe it'll help.”

"Love?” she whispered. “It is a strange word. But we have such a word here if I think it is what you mean. I love you too, man of another world. You are the first I have ever said that to. Nor will I ever say it to another. I was afraid only this moment. But now, why, it is as though fear never existed. Are we not together? Are we not bound to each other, body to body? Surely, if it is within the bounds of reason, so will our souls be bound. But not with strands of rope, but with the infinitely greater fibers of love, as you call it. Do not worry, man of mine, I will not cry out, though they beat me to eternity."

If I had had tears I would have shed them. If I had had the strength to tear myself from the prison they had bound me in I would have ripped their torture cell to bits and them with it. But I could not. I could do nothing but wait. Wait.... THE TERROR OF A WORD WHICH BECOMES A SOMETHING PHYSICAL...

THEN there was no more waiting.

The word had been translated into the deed. I heard the swish of the fiber snake. It made an eerie whistling sound as it zipped through the air. And hit! ...

For an instant the shock was so great I could do nothing, say nothing. All I could do was feel. Once I had written of liquid fire being poured on someone. I suddenly knew how that hero of the pulps felt. Pain was like ecstasy, pain was like suddenly losing the world one was in and in an instant being brought into another world. I didn't even hear the sound of the second stroke. Only the feel of it.

Pain became translated into some thing else. Colors. First there was blackness. Just an oily pool of black into which your mind sank. That was with the first blow. The second brought a tinge of red into the blackness. After the third I stopped counting. Just the colors and the pain. Reds and purples and black, always the black like a curtain which burned when one went be hind of and out of it.

The pain was something else. It always began with the area which had been hit, then spread. It was like the thin sound of a single violin string which had been plucked. The sound leaps from the thin wood paneling and spreads instantly in all direction. So with the pain I felt. Every single inch of me vibrated to the feel of pain.

Of a sudden I heard a voice.

Well, maybe it wasn't a voice I heard. Maybe it could best be called a sound. Surely, I would have thought, had I been capable of thinking, nothing like that could be called a voice. It wasn't human, nor was it animal. I knew what it was, though. It was the sound of pain! It was the cry of the tortured and the damned. It was the sound of man being beaten, whipped, terrorized. It was the cry of all humanity wrapped up in a single throat.

Oh, do not think there is no limit to pain. There is. I began to develop an odd immunity to it. Not that it wasn't always present. Only it became pushed into the background. Taking its place, as though in compensation, a new world was conceived. It was a strange world. There were only three people in it, Loko, Lovah and myself.

The first glimpse I had of this strange world took place as though on a screen which had been shoved onto my mind of a sudden. We were in some sort of cave. The walls glowed redly from the reflections of hidden fires. Lovah, stark-naked, was dancing about a figure bound to a stake. She was brandishing a pitchfork. Another figure stalked in from off stage somewhere. I recognized myself. I watched myself move forward toward the nude figure cavorting about the stake and the man tied to it. Then I wasn't watching any more; I was myself walking toward Lovah. She was singing a tune but the words did not make sense: "Old Loko's hanging from a stake; Old Loko's but a broken rake. Soon he'll fry, We must turn him. Soon he'll fry, Soon we'll burn him. Old Loko's hanging from a stake; Brittle bones, bones will break." From ten feet off I took an immense leap, like that of a male ballet dancer, and landed beside Lovah.

"Ho-ho!” I chortled. “We have the old buzzard now, haven't we? My pet, I worked hard over the fires, but they'll make the labor worth it when we fry him. Have you pricked him to see how the juice runs?"

Lovah did a pirouette completely around the old man tied to the stake. She laughed gayly and a deep groan echoed the light sound. The groan came from Loko. At the sound Lovah stopped dancing and I came close.

"Please," the old man said. “Spare this old graybeard...."

"Grey beard,” I said in fine scorn. “Why there isn't a hair on that bald dome of yours and not even fuzz on that chiny-chin-chin you call a chiny-chin-chin."

"Rhetoric," the old man replied. "Merely rhetoric. A phrase. A passing thought. But, and this is more to the point, surely you would not harm an old, old man like me.”

Lovah and I burst into delighted laughter. She whirled lightly about me and came to rest at my side, her eyes laughing up to mine and her lips inviting a kiss. I accepted the invitation. Loko groaned at sight of it.

"Oh, don't pay any attention to the old frastrate," Lovah said. "He's just

jealous. He's just jealous because we're going to eat and he isn't...."

"Ho-ho," I laughed again. "He isn't going to eat. He's just going to be the eaten."

"Spare me! Spare me," the old jerk groaned.

“Spear him! Spear him, he says. Spear himmmmm...."

THE words died away in a long humming sound. The scene faded. The world of fantasy collapsed. Only the hum remained. I came back to reality to the sound of that hum. And found it was I who was making the sound.

“... Berk ... oh, man of mine ... please! Hear me...."

Her cheeks were dew-wet against mine from the tears she had she. Her voice was a sobbing entreaty which I could not deny. Strange, I thought, and it was the first time in the eons which had passed that I had been able to bring thought to my tortured mind. I can no longer feel the whip.

Her voice went on, her breath tick ling my neck:

“... Stop doing that, Berk. Not any more. I can't stand it. I'll break too if you don't stop...."

"It's stopped, honey,” I said. "Guess I went off the deep end. What happened? The guy get tired?"

Her head went back and her eyes were bright as stars and twice as beautiful. Her lips managed a smile. But two last tears coursed down the paths others had sown and hung poised, like wondrous jewels, on the curve of her cheeks. I would have given the breath of my life to lift my hands and brush them into a cup to hold precious for ever.

"N-no. I think you fainted and Loko told him to stop."

"Well, that was nice of Loko. I can't say that I don't appreciate it. I'm puzzled, though...."

Her eyes asked a question.

“... My back," I said. "It should at least smart. But I don't feel a thing. Hey! Maybe I'm just numb from taking it?"

“No. They covered you with some sort of salve, I saw them place it on you."

"Ho, slaves,” Loko suddenly announced he was still alive. “Undo the bonds about the two but leave them bound.”

They turned us so that we were facing the three up there. That is I thought there were three. It turned out there were four. The fourth was one of the women warriors. She was leaning over Loko's shoulder, talking earnestly to him in low tones, accenting with her hands actions she wanted to bring to light. The other two were listening absorbedly also. Loko kept shaking his head as though in agreement. After a moment of this she turned and leaped from the dais and strode from the room.

The three then brought their heads together and after several seconds of talk Mita and the other also rose and departed. Loko turned his full attention to us:

"I suppose I must forego the balance of this," he said. "Matters of state have come up. Of interest to you two also. The she-devil, Luria and the rest of them will soon be in my clutches. Perhaps it is best that I save the two of you for the time when there will be other rebels and traitors to keep you company. Throw them into adjoining cells so that they might hear each other's agony...."

THE instant the cell door clanged shut I rushed to the bars and called to Lovah:

"All right, baby?”

"Oh, yes. But now that the ordeal is at end for you, I feel this prison. We must break loose somehow."

She had a great idea, my Lovah honey had. There was but one thing wrong with it. When Hank and I had been thrown into this clink they just left us there. Not this time. Directly outside our doors about midway be tween them stood a guard against the opposite wall. And now and then I saw the shadow of a marching man pass across the outside bars of our little cages.

"I think we're stuck here for a while,” I said. “But always remember that what sticks you can get unstuck."

It was small consolation but it had to do.

The sound of the warders who had brought us to our cells died away in the distance. The oddly quivering stillness of the prison settled on us. I started to turn from the bars to see what the land looked like on the outside when I saw our guard approaching. He placed his face close to the door bars and whispered:

“Loko is a traitor.”

“Yeah," I said. "I know...." I stopped and the light burst on me. One of Loko's own men calling him a traitor. Hope kindled anew in my breast. Lovah must have seen the man step to my cell but she couldn't hear what was being said.

"Aye,” the guard said. “A deep-dyed traitor. He has lied to us. The Holy Bird has said so. I heard it...."

"So?" I acted with reserve.

"It is not right. He tells the people the Holy Bird says he is the rightful ruler."

"So why don't you spill the beans. I mean speak up! Tell someone who can do something about it.”

"He would have me killed,” the guard said.

“Does anyone beside you know this?” I asked.

“Yes. My brother. He was with me when news of your capture came to him. He told the Holy Bird in his mean gloating voice about it. It was then we heard. Loko must have forgotten our presence."

"Where is your brother now?” I asked.

"He will relieve me soon," the man said.

"And you in turn will relieve him?" I asked.

“Yes."

“Do you think you can bring the bird to me?" I asked.

He shook his head that he could. I smiled but his face and eyes remained grim. "Loko has gone on the field. It is said that his forces have surrounded the rightful Queen, Luria. It will be some time before he returns. I will re turn soon."

Nor was it long before the brother showed up. He brought with him trays of food for us. The two of them divided up the time waiting on us which amounted to their shoving the bowls into our cells and waiting until we were done. Then the first gathered up the empty bowls and went off.

I paced the cell in what seemed in endless procession until his return. He carried the bird in the open, and marched straight up to the cell, thrust the bird in on me and said:

"Loko will wonder greatly where the bird is. Nor will he know for a length of time. Perhaps by then he may find the means to escape him. Until then be at peace."

I WANTED to kiss the character.

What a sweet guy. Be at peace. It was a long time since I'd heard that phrase. I looked down at the parrot on my wrist. The blamed bird seemed asleep. Carrying carefully, I stepped out of sight of the man on the outside the cell. Our new-found friend had been careful to make the transfer during the time the outside guard was out of sight.

My bunk was below window level. I sat down and peered at the parrot. Suddenly one eye opened and blinked several times as though brushing the sleep from its lids. Then the other eye showed life also. We regarded each other without change of expression for several seconds. The bird was the first to break silence:

"You're about the ugliest man I've ever seen," it said.

I hadn't known what to expect from it, certainly not that. I felt the heat rise all the way from my toes to my face. As if I wasn't having enough trouble, this scrawny thing had to give me more.

"Brother," I said. "Every time you open your yap, every time you crack that way, you lose ten years from your life expectancy. Now why can't you behave?"

“The truth will out,” the bird said.

"Nobody asked for it," I said, my voice rising a bit.

"I was just thinking of the future," the bird said. "The day of the woman is past. Loko can't lose. My daughter can but stave off defeat for a certain length of time. The inevitable must happen...."

A laugh that was as bitter as gall choked me up. For the first time since we'd come to this infernal place despair bored a hole in my breast. This bird was telling the truth and we were going to pay the consequences. My hand fell and the bird hopped off my wrist and onto the bed. I saw then that its wings had been clipped. Loko thought of everything.

“... No," it went on. "Loko can't lose. Yet oddly, he can't win. A paradox, no?"

“Who cares?" I asked.

"You do," he said. “You want to live, don't you? The girl in the cell next door; she makes life worth the struggle, doesn't she?”

I lifted my head.

"You have been beaten, whipped, wounded. All in vain? You fought back, but you lost. Now you have a valid reason for fighting. I can see through the veil of time, but because the veil is not of one thickness alone, I cannot see all the way. This I can see. A level plain bound on two sides by a forest, on the third by a river and the fourth side by a deep valley.

"Two armies are drawn up on the plain. They clash and all is confusion, all is terror and all is lost to sight be cause they have lost their integral distinctions. They are mixed and are one. Now they separate into distinct groups, each fighting an individual war of its own. Now from the forest comes a new force. They are mounted on paavans and they are all men. They ride, like a spearhead of fate, into the thick of the warring groups. They ride close, slash off segments of these groups and ride off before retaliation can be given. At their head rides a bareheaded man with the face of an eagle. His eyes are alight with the look of a conqueror, and his set features have the look of judgment. Now others rally around his standards. He becomes a wedge driving his sword points deep into the heart of his enemy. They scatter and flee and from all sides are beset by their opponents and chopped to bits.

"Now I see something which was not plain before. A woman and man had been the leaders before. They are no longer there. They have disappeared. I see them again and they are bound to the mounts of a fleeing couple. The woman is unconscious...."

I DIVINED what he was trying to tell me. Luria and Hank...I rose and slammed my fist into the wall and the gray dust powdered and flaked around my fist.

“... They are met by a company of warriors riding toward the scene of battle. Now all turn and make full speed toward the rear. And in the lead is an old man, a man I once knew full well. Loko...."

I bent my head:

"I've got to get out of here!” I grit ted harshly. “Do you understand? I've got to get out of here! And take Lovah with me.”

"Once you learned your strength," the bird said. “Have you forgotten it?"

I lifted him to my shoulders. His clawed clutch bit deep into the flesh yet I didn't notice it. I waked straight to the door and clutched with both hands at the bars. Their coldness seemed to defie me. The guard looked at me with wonder in his eyes.

“The one outside will see you," he said with apprehension.

"Open the door," I said. "We're get ting out of here."

I could read the indecision in his eyes. Now I heard the shouted warning of the one at the window. He had seen the bird on my shoulder. I couldn't risk waiting. Setting my feet firmly I yanked with a sudden pull in which all my strength was exerted. There was a ripping sound as the door was pulled from the stone and I staggered backward, the weight of the metal frame in my two hands. Hurling it to one side I leaped forward to face the astonished guard. “With us ...?" I asked.

He made up his mind. “Yes. My brother, too. Shall I get him?"

“Yes. Quickly! But leave me your sword and open the other cell first.”

Lovah flew into my arms and buried her head on my shoulders. I let her rest there for a few seconds. I could hear the bellowing voice of the man outside grow faint as he sped to spread the alarm. But we had to wait the coming of the brothers. But they did not come alone. There were others with them, a dozen others, all armed and all willing to lay down their lives the instant they saw the bird. Lovah was given a sword, and with one of the brothers in the lead we started on the road to freedom.

"Where are we bound for?" I asked, as we ran full speed down the twisting lengths of the corridors.

"The throne room," one of the brothers replied. “Loko has returned with Luria and the stranger who came with you from the other world.”

The news lent wings to our already flying feet. Then I noticed that we weren't running by the same path I'd been taken. Suspicion raised its head in my breast. As though reading my mind the one in the lead gasped:

“The other way we'd meet those coming to bar our path. This way is longer but safer.”

He was right.

We rushed into the throne room from a side entrance but one that was all the way at the far end. So intent were those in the room on what was taking place before the dais, they didn't even see us. I could understand their intent.

Hank and Luria were in the same position as Lovah and I had been only a short time before. The only difference being that they were not bound together. Further, they had been made to kneel before Loko and the other two. Loko was on his feet, a look of mad fury on his wrinkled face. His arms were raised above his head and I could hear the thin screech of his voice all the way across the room:

"You will not die quickly, I promise that. I will make life drain from your bodies as the sweat labors from it on heaty days. I will have my revenge I will make it last to your bitter end.... They will come too late, and seeing your lifeless bodies will give up the struggle...."

HE STOPPED, warned by the shouts of the guards and the two men be side him. He took one look at us, turned and scampered backward to seek refuge behind his warrior men.

In an instant a solid wall of guards had been formed before the two captives. We hit them and it was like plowing into an immensely thick rubber band. We hit and bounced back. This time I took the lead, when we charged forward again. I swung my sword like a man swings a reaper and whatever it touched became two. My men seemed charged with the same fury as I. They hacked and stabbed with terrible effect. But once more we were too few. Reason and sanity left me. I was a wild animal. Strange sounds came from my throat. Screams of madness, shouts of delirium. Fear was plain on the faces of those facing me. For a few moments they gave before my attack, enough for me to win to the sides of the kneeling man and woman. It took just the time of two sword swipes and they were free. Then they were at my side and swinging with me.

More and more guards kept joining in the fray. We were outnumbered fifty to one. But not for long. Suddenly there were shouting voices, voices which sent echoes of "Luria" echoing about the stone walls, and from all sides warriors streamed in to join the battle, Luria's warriors.

Our opponents melted from our sight, streaming to join their leaders in flight. But not for long. We had Captain Mita and the giant who had sworn to do things to Hank and me, to reckon with. Even from my small experience in this pest-hole I knew what a maze it was. We discovered it was a perfect place for defense. Each corridor had been built with that purpose in mind. Ten men could hold back a hundred in their narrow reaches. And there were dozens of corridors.

We had won the throne room. But we had also won to the heart of Loko's empire. We soon discovered that we had not won a complete victory. It might, we also discovered, become a Pyrrhic victory. Loko was a long way from giving up the struggle.

Ever since we had been rescued from the tented compound where we had been prisoner, I had wondered why the use of bow and arrow had not been more universal. Later I was told that they had not as yet become proficient in its use. Loko's men were. Or those he had trained. Suddenly a hail of arrows met our advancing forces. It was only fortunate that we were not in the open. As it was those barbed shafts kept us at bay. And once more it was Jimno who devised an impromptu escape from them.

"Small groups," he shouted, taking the play away from Luria as naturally as though it had been God-given. "Six and eight to each. Go low — and keep moving. Stab and go on. Don't let yourselves be targets."

As though they had been trained in the new maneuver for a lifetime, they followed the command to perfection. Now when a man or woman fell it was a single one and not as before, by fives and sixes.

But still it was hack and chop. Loko, or rather Mita, had enough sword fodder to keep us busy. I had learned a lot about the use of a sword. I no longer swung it in wild circles, hoping to catch someone in the radii. Now I jabbed and chopped. My sword and I were covered with blood. Lovah, too, was finding revenge for the indignities she'd suffered.

At last the corridor we had found ourselves in came to an end. We were on the parapet which encircled Loko's pueblo palace. Our enemies were fleeing from us. For the first time I saw a means of escape which I hadn't seen before. Ladders had been placed against the walls. Men streamed like firemen down these ladders.

THE chase continued. But it was a little more even now. Now we were in the open where the archers had a chance at us. But they were not too proficient in the use of the bow. The arrows were indiscriminate in their choice of victims. And they found their friends as quickly as their enemies.

We won through the hail of steel. And forced our way to the ladders. Soon, each ladder had its quota of Luria's warriors in command. Nor did it take long before we were on the stretch of ground below and continuing the chase. It was only then that we learned Jim no's genius.

He had thought of everything. From above came a shrill imperious whistling. And from the great grassy plain surrounding Loko's city came a horde of paavans.

I don't know how many there were or how Jimno had gone about calling them but come they did in an irresistible wave which swept away all who opposed them until they arrived within the precincts of the city itself. Here they were met by those trying to flee. Pandemonium is a mild way of saying what followed.

But all this is what happened at the shrill calling of the paavans. What took place with us directly is as follows. We followed so close on the heels of our enemies they had no chance to cut the ladders from us. There were some who were able to but not many. Those who were on the ladders at the time, friend and foe alike, met a quick death below for the drop was all of seventy feet.

We won our way to the bottom. At our head Jimno strode like an avenging angel. I suppose the memory of what happened to his wife and children was never to be forgotten; nor would the enemy ever forget the flashing sword which took a dozen lives for every one exacted of his. We followed close be hind and chopped away after him. It seemed we were invincible. They fell as the leaves fall in the wake of a storm. They retreated until we backed them up against a rear wall of the palace pueblo itself.

There were a hundred of them against perhaps fifty of us. The odds were even.

We paused, all together, as though drawing the last breath and strength for the ensuing struggle for it was in each of our minds that it was to be to the death. Then, as though motivated by a single being, we leaped for each other. Whether by chance or intent Hank and I were opposed by the giant and Captain Mita. Mita was my opponent.

All it took was a single stroke on my part to know that I was at the short end of a long ride. He parried my clumsy jab and had it not been for a stroke of sheer luck, the engagement would have ended then and there. His foot slid forward at the same time his sword did. But someone alongside kicked him in trying to get out of the way of a blow, and that tiny instant of break in the rhythm of his riposte, allowed his parry to slide past me, just under my shoulder.

I leaped backward to safety.

I knew then I had but a single chance. Slash and keep slashing with the utmost disregard for safety and depend on his being on the defensive all the time. Sooner or later by sheer strength I might wear him down. It sounded good in my brain. It even started off well.

I whirled my sword so fast it was but a streak of light. And, as I had hoped, he kept on the retreat. But why was he grinning? Suddenly he stepped in slid in would be a better way of describing the movement he made. He jabbed easily, somehow avoiding my clumsy blows. The sword tip pricked me and blood began to flow. Again and again he managed to evade my thrusts and slashes and every time he came in he departed with a little more of my blood leaking from various parts of my anatomy. He was toying with me.

After a while I began to gasp a bit. Breath was becoming harder to catch. He motioned me forward, saying:

“Come! You have only felt the tip thus far. The edge is keener, will make life depart the quicker. You have lived long enough. Soon your time will end...."

TO HELL with it, I thought. A guy can live but once. And Lovah or not, if my time was now, that's the way it would have to be. I dove forward again and by sheer force broke through his guard, made him retreat. I even managed to get in a couple of digs of my own, yet he always managed to evade the death thrust.

Once more I had to stop to regain a spent breath. And saw for the first time, realized then what he had forced me into doing. He had retreated all right. But in the direction he wanted. And in so doing he had forced me to go along. Now his back was against the wall of the palace and I was in the sun. His sword danced merrily in front of my eyes and seemed to shoot sparks into them.

"You have courage, my friend," he said. “It is a pity that I have to kill you. But first I must kill that thing on your shoulder...."

The bird, I thought suddenly. It was still perched on my shoulder. Its claws still dug into my flesh and for the first time I felt the bite of them. Softly to my ears came the last words of the bird, Luria's father:

"This time death will be final for me. Tell Luria this world is done for her. And say that the world she will go to has no need of women warriors...."

They were the last utterance he made. In a movement that was but a play of light, too quick for my eyes to follow, Mita brought his sword forward with a gentle but lightning-like movement of his wrist. I did my best to leap out of its way. But the blade was not seeking me. It found its mark all right. A spatter of warm liquid struck against my cheeks and from the corner of my eye I saw the head of the Holy Groana Bird fall to the ground. Then I no longer felt its claws in my shoulder's flesh. The mystery of it would never be solved now.

"So be it," Mita said. "The time has come my friend. Now!"

He danced forward and his blade flickered toward me, now toward my throat and now toward my chest but always to return as I danced awkwardly aside. But he was no longer smiling at my movements. Suddenly he snaked forward, bent a little lower than usual and shot out one leg and arm in a simultaneous gesture. I made the mistake of following the direction of his leg.... I don't know about this business of a drowning man seeing his life flash backward before him as he goes down. But this I know.

The dust of this place had a bitter taste—the sun was a blast furnace for death to enter—and the shadow —there was a voice calling to me, the voice of my beloved, and I had not the breath to answer—a pointed bit of steel was leaping to find a spot in me of the great destroyer crossed the face of the sun....

My sword fell to the earth. My eyes were suddenly too tired to stay open, yet too horrified, too amazed to close.

I knew who had cast the shadow. Mokar. As though he had been shot from the blue, he had come in a tremendous leap to land full on Mita. One snap of those terrible jaws and Mita's life had escaped in a cascade of gore. Mita had spoken the truth. The time had come, His time.

I turned wearily. Just in time to see the last of the great drama. Loko was pinned against the wall not far from me. Hank was just stepping away from the headless body of the giant, Luria and Jimno were facing Loko, and Lovah was running toward me with the grace and speed of a gazelle.

I took her in my arms and she was limp for a second. Her fingers explored my wounds and her eyes lit up and her lips gave a sigh as she saw that I was only nicked.

We moved, arm in arm, toward the frozen tableaux.

Loko was pleading for his life, a broken stream of words which sounded oddly profane from lips which had caused so many to die. They were the sounds of a babbling idiot.

Luria was a pale-faced ghost, now that the die was cast. She saw that the bird was missing from my shoulder and at the nodding of my head knew it was dead. Her lips thinned and determination made her jaws go square,

“Throw him a sword,” she said.

The blade lay at the old man's feet. He didn't even look at it. Begging words dripped from his mouth, broken voiced promises which had no meaning. Suddenly Jimno pushed the girl gently aside, saying:

"It is not meet for a Queenly blade to be defiled. His flesh would rot the steel, tarnish its color. He is but carrion even in life. No better dead, surely...."

Loko died more quickly than did most to whom he had ordered death....

“I URIA,” Hank was saying. "There is nothing here for you anymore. Jimno has proven a right to rule. It's better that way...."

We were sitting about, the four of us, Lovah, Hank, the beautiful girl who had been the Queen, and I. Jimno was rounding up the last of Loko's forces. Lovah found the hollow of my arms and was content there.

“But my people," she protested.

"They will live and well, too,” Hank said. "Jimno is wise and great. He is a poet, remember. But also a warrior. He proved that. He won his right to a king ship. Let the days of a woman's rule end."

She turned her face to his and he smiled and went on:

"Except for the rule over me. You have always been my Queen. In my heart you will always reign. But in my land, how much greater and more en during will it be.”

"I have the power,” she said aloud. "Perhaps...."

We became tense as she turned and gave us each a look of intense search. Then her lips framed a smile and she continued, "Close your eyes, all of you. And let us pray we return to that place from whence you came...."

It was evening. We were in a large city. Skyscrapers were framed against the cloud-studded sky. We were not far from water. I could hear it slapping against a pier.... Then I saw the white wonder of the Wrigley Building. We were home again.

* * *

LOVAH knows what it means to be a writer's widow. A week has gone by since our return. She has wanted to go out every night. But every night I say:

"Can't honey. Got to finish this for Ray Palmer."

And always the same words from her: “I am beginning to think you married the wrong person. This Ray Palm er, whoever he is, is more a wife to you than I.”

I grinned. Only in one way. I thought. He'd never be in any of the other ways

you are. Her arms slid around my neck. She whispered something to me, and Ray, manuscript, work, were all for gotten. Nobody cooks hamburgers like my wife....

Read PART 1

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