The City of the Beast or Warriors of Mars Read online

  The best hostage they could ever hope for.

  The ruler of Varnal.

  I began to curse myself as I would never curse another, even my greatest enemy.

  Chapter Seven

  THE PURSUIT

  THEN I was running from the tent, blind with remorse and anger. I rushed through the corpsestrewn field towards the Calling Hills, bent on Shizala's rescue!

  I ran past startled warriors of the Srinai and the Karnala, who called after me enquiringly.

  I began to run up the hill towards the spot where the Argzoon had taken their stand.

  I heard more shouts behind me, the sound of fast-moving feet. I refused to pay them any attention.

  Ahead and above, the Argzoon stirred, evidently thinking that we were launching another surprise attack on them.

  Instead of holding their ground as I expected, they began to turn and run in twos and threes.

  I yelled at them to stop and fight. I called them cowards.

  They did not stop.

  Soon it seemed that the whole Argzoon force was in full flight—pursued by one man with a sword!

  Suddenly I felt something grapple my legs. I turned to meet this new adversary, wondering where he had come from. I raised my sword, striving to keep my balance.

  More men jumped on me. I growled in fury, trying to fight them off. Then my head cleared for a moment and I realized that the one who had grappled me was none other than Darnad— Shizala's brother!

  I could not understand why he should be attacking me. I cried out:

  "Darnad—it is Michael Kane. Shizala—Shizala— they have . . ." Then came a blow on my head and I knew no more.

  I awoke with a throbbing headache. I was in my room in the palace at Varnal. That much I could understand. But why?

  Why had Darnad attacked me?

  I fought to think clearly. I sat up rubbing my head.

  The door suddenly opened and my attacker entered looking worried.

  "Darnad! Why did you-?"

  "How do you feel?"

  "Worse than I would if your comrade had not knocked me out. Don't you realize that..."

  "You are still excited, I see. We had to stop you, even though your madness resulted in the Argzoon fleeing in complete disorganization. As far as we can tell, they are now scattered. Your plan to slay their leader must have worked. They seem to have broken up completely. They no longer represent a threat to Varnal."

  "But I slew the wrong man. I—" I paused. "What do you mean, my madness?"

  "It sometimes happens that a warrior who has fought long and hard, as you did, is gripped by a kind of battle-rage in which—no matter how tired he might be—he cannot stop fighting. We thought this was what happened to you. There is another thing that concerns me. Shizala—"

  "Don't you realize what you have done?" I spoke in a low, angry voice. "You speak of Shizala. Is she here? Is she safe?"

  "No—we cannot find her. She piloted the ship that took you to the Argzoon camp, but the ship was empty when we recovered it. We think that..."

  "I know what has happened to her!"

  "You know? Then why did you not tell us? Why-?"

  "I was seized by no battle-rage, Darnad. I discovered that Shizala had been abducted. I was on my way to try to rescue her when you set upon me. How long ago was this?"

  "Last night—about thirty-six shatis ago."

  "Thirty-six!" I got up, giving an involuntary groan. Not only my head ached. The exertions of the previous two days had taken their toll of my body. It seemed a mass of bruises and minor wounds. My worst wound—the one on my armwas throbbing painfully. Thirty-six shatis—more than four hours ago!

  As quickly as I could, I told Darnad all the details of what I had learned. He was as surprised as I had been to learn of Horguhl the Vladnyar woman.

  "I wonder what part she plays in this?" he said with a frown.

  "I have no idea. Her answers were ambiguous, to say the least."

  "I am sorry that I made that mistake, Michael Kane," he said. "I was a fool. I heard you shouting something. I should have listened. With luck we should have rescued Shizala and all would be over. The Argzoon are scattered. We and our allies will soon have cleansed Karnala of them. We will be able to question prisoners and discover how they managed to reach Varnal undetected."

  "But while we are doing this Shizala could be taken anywhere! North—south—east—west. How are you to know where they will carry her?"

  Darnad dropped his eyes and stared at the floor.

  "You are right. But if you think Shizala is with this Vladnyar girl, then we must hope that some of our prisoners will have seen which way they went. There is also the chance that in our general routing and capturing of the Argzoon we will manage to rescue Shizala."

  "There is no time for recriminations of any kind," I said. "So let us forget the errors of judgment we have both made. The heat of the battle must be held to account. What do you intend to do now?"

  "I shall be leading a force with the specific intention of capturing Argzoon and questioning them on the whereabouts of Shizala."

  "Then I shall accompany you," I told him.

  "That is what I hoped you would say," he said, patting my shoulder. "Rest while the last preparations are being made. I will call for you when we are ready to leave—there is nothing else you can do until then, and you had better regain as much strength as possible—you are going to need it. I will have food sent."

  "Thank you," I said gratefully. He was right. I must make myself relax—for Shizala's sake.

  As I lay back on the couch, I again wondered just why she had risked such danger by going into the Argzoon tent. There had been no need for it— and as ruler of her folk she should have returned at once to Varnal.

  I decided that the sooner we found her the sooner we should have answers to these and other questions.

  I slept until a servant entered with food. Then I ate the food and, on receiving a message that Darnad and his warriors were ready, washed hastily and went down to join them.

  The day should have been grim and stark and full of storm-clouds. It was not. It was a lovely, clear day with the pale sun brightening the streets of the city and obscuring most traces of the strife that had so recently ended.

  At the foot of the palace steps was a company of warriors mounted on dahara. Darnad was at their head, holding the reins of a dahara that was evidently meant for me.

  I mounted the beast, stretching my legs out along it. Then the whole company turned into the street leading towards the main gate.

  We were soon riding across the Calling Hills, tracking our fleeing enemy.

  It was still a mystery why the Argzoon had fled so precipitately—particularly in the face of such a small force.

  But we did not ask ourselves these questions as we rode grimly after our quarry, even though it seemed that Ranak Mard had, indeed, been the master-mind behind the Argzoon attack—for it was plain that he was dead and the Argzoon were now in confusion.

  Yet why had Horguhl told me otherwise?

  No questions. Not yet.

  Find the Argzoon—they will answer our questions.

  On we rode.

  It was not until late in the afternoon that we managed to surprise a group of some ten weary Argzoon who had camped in a shallow valley far, far from the Calling Hills.

  They rose up at our approach and stood ready to fight. For once we outnumbered them. Normally, this would not please me but I felt that in this case it made a pleasant change to have the advantage over the Argzoon.

  They put up a token fight as we attacked them. About half were killed and then the others lay down their arms.

  The Argzoon have no code of loyalty such as we understand it, and little sense of comradeship with one another. This made it easier to question them in one way—but harder in another.

  They did not stay silent because they did not wish to betray their fellows. They stayed silent out of stubbornness.

  It was not
until Darnad significantly fingered his long dagger and hinted that, since they were no use to us, it would be as well to dispose of the Argzoon, that one of them broke.

  We were lucky. He knew a great deal more than we had expected one simple warrior to know.

  They had not crossed from Argzoon to Karnala by land at all but had spent over a year travelling by sea and river. They had gone round the coast, thousands of miles out of their way—for Varnal lay many thousands of miles inland—and then sailed down the Haal River, the largest of the rivers on the continent. They had assembled in a place called the Crimson Plain and then gone in small groups from there, moving at night all the time, until they reached Karnala undetected. We learned that one or two parties of Karnala warriors had discovered detachments of Argzoon, but the Karnala had been wiped out.

  "Simple," Darnad mused after hearing this. "And yet we never credited the Argzoon with such ingenuity or patience. It just isn't in their nature to spend so much time and thought on a raid. It is good that you slew Ranak Mard, Michael Kane. He must have been a strange sort of Argzoon."

  "Now," I said, "let us try to discover where Shizala has been taken."

  But the Argzoon could not help beyond telling us that as far as he knew all the Argzoon were fleeing north. It seemed instinctive for them to go north, back to their mountains, in defeat.

  "I think he is right," said Darnad. "Our best chance would be to try the north."

  "North," I said—"that takes in a lot of territory."

  Darnad sighed.

  "True—but . . ." He looked at me directly and there was a misery in his eyes that was only half hidden.

  I reached out and grasped his shoulder. "But all we can do is search on," I said. "We will make more prisoners soon and with luck we shall be able to get a better indication of where they have taken Shizala."

  Our prisoners were tied securely and one of our number undertook to escort them back to Varnal.

  Now we rode across a vast plateau of short, waving crimson fern. It was the Crimson Plain. It was like a great sea of bright blood, stretching in all directions, and I began to feel hopeless of ever finding Shizala.

  Night fell and we camped, building no fires for fear of ambush from Argzoon or from the marauding bandits who apparently roamed these plains, nomadic bands made up from the riff-raff of all the nearby nations. The Crimson Plain was a kind of no-man's land hardly touched by law of any sortsave the savage dog-eat-dog, weakest-to-the-wall law of the lawless.

  I slept little. I was beginning to feel frustrated, wanting to find more Argzoon to question.

  We moved off early, almost before dawn. It was no longer fine and the sky was full of grey clouds, a light drizzle falling.

  We saw nothing of bandits or Argzoon until the next afternoon when suddenly in front of us some fifty Blue Giants rose up in our path. They looked ready for a fight—ready for vengeance on us for their defeat!

  We scarcely paused as we drew lances and swords and goaded our mounts towards them, yelling as fiercely as they did.

  Then we clashed and the fight was on.

  I found myself engaged with a blue warrior who wore around his waist a girdle of grisly spoils from the earlier encounter—severed human hands.

  I decided to claim some recompense for those hands.

  Being mounted, I was more at an advantage than I had been, for the Argzoon were not. Apart from the advance guard I had originally seen, there seemed to be few mounts among them and I concluded that their need for secrecy had made them wary of using too many.

  The warrior struck at me left-handed, catching me by surprise. The weapon was a battle-axe, and it took all my skill to block the blow and at the same time avoid the lunge of his sword.

  He pressed down on my sword with both weapons and we remained in that position for several moments, testing each other's strength and reflexes. Then he tried to raise the sword to aim a blow at my head, but I whipped my own blade out from under his axe and he was unbalanced for a second. I used that second to pierce him in the throat.

  Meanwhile there was general confusion around me. Though it seemed we were beating the Argzoon, we had many casualties. It seemed we had only about half our original strength left.

  I saw Darnad having trouble with a couple of blue warriors and rode in to help him.

  Together we quickly despatched our opponents.

  From the fifty Argzoon we had fought, only two had surrendered.

  We used the same technique on them as we had used with the previous prisoners. At last they began to answer our questions surlily.

  "Did you see any of your comrades take a Karnala woman with them?"

  "Perhaps."

  Darnad fingered his knife.

  "Yes," said the Argzoon.

  "In which direction were they riding?" I said.

  "North."

  "But where did you think they were going?"

  "Maybe towards Narlet."

  "Where is that?" I asked Darnad.

  "About three days' ride—a brigand town near the borders of the Crimson Plain."

  "A brigand town—dangerous for us, eh?"

  "It could be," Darnad admitted. "But I doubt it if we don't make trouble. They prefer not to antagonize us if we make it plain we are not seeking any of their number. In fact," Darnad laughed, "I have a friend or two in Narlet. Rogues, but pleasant company if you forget that they are thieves and murderers many times over."

  Again we put the prisoners in charge of one man and our somewhat depleted force moved on towards Narlet.

  At least we had some definite information and our spirits rose as we rode full speed towards the City of Thieves.

  Twice more en route we were forced to stop and engage Argzoon and the prisoners we took confirmed that in all likelihood Shizala had been taken to Narlet.

  Less than three days later we saw a range of hills in the far distance, marking the end of the Crimson Plain.

  Then we saw a small walled city—its wall seeming to be built of logs covered with dried mud..

  The buildings were square and seemed solid enough, but they had little beauty.

  We had reached Narlet, City of Thieves.

  But would we find Shizala?

  Chapter Eight

  THE CITY OF THIEVES

  IT WOULD not be true to say that we received a joyous welcome in Narlet but, as Darnad had said, they did not immediately set upon us, though they gave us looks of intense suspicion and tended to avoid us as we entered the city's only gate and made our way through the narrow streets.

  "We'll get no information from most of them," Darnad told me. "But I think I know where I can find someone who will help us—if Old Belet Vor still lives."

  "Belet Vor?" I said questioningly.

  "One of those friends I mentioned."

  Our little party emerged into a market square of some sort and Darnad pointed to a small house sandwiched between two ramshackle buildings. When I used to patrol these parts he saved my life once. I had the good fortune to return the favor— and somehow we struck up a strong friendship. One of those things."

  We dismounted outside the house and from it an old man emerged. He was toothless and wrinkled and incredibly ugly, yet there was a jaunty appearance about him which made one forget his unwholesome visage.

  "Ah, the Bradhinak Darnad—an honor, an honor." His eyes twinkled, belying his servile words. He spoke ironically. I could see why Darnad had liked him.

  "Greetings, you old scoundrel. How many children have you robbed today?"

  "Only a dozen or so, Bradhinak. Would this friend of yours like to see my spoils—some of the sweetmeats are only half-eaten. Heh—heh!"

  "Spare us the temptation." I smiled as he ushered us into his hovel.

  It was surprisingly clean and orderly and we sat on benches while he brought us basu.

  Drinking the sweet beverage, Darnad said seriously: "We are in haste, Belet Vor. Have any warriors of the Argzoon been seen in Narlet recently—coming here perh
aps a day or so before us?"

  The old rogue cocked his head to one side. "Why, yes—two Argzoon warriors. Looked as if they'd taken a beating and were scampering back to their mountain lairs."

  "Just two warriors?"

  Belet Vor chuckled. "And two prisoners, by the look of them. I'm thinking they wouldn't have chosen such company of their own free will."

  "Two prisoners?"

  "Women, both of them. One fair, one dark."

  "Shizala and Horguhl!" I cried.

  "Are they still here?" Darnad asked urgently.

  "I'm not sure. They could have left early this morning, but I think not."

  "Where are they staying?"

  "Ah—there you have it, if you seek the prisoners. The Argzoon warriors seem to be of high rank. They are guests of our city's noble Bradhi."

  "Your Bradhi-not Chinod Sai?"

  "Yes. He has now chosen to call himself the Bradhi Chinod Sai. Narlet is becoming respectable, eh? He is one of your peers now, Bradhinak Darnad—not so?"

  "The scoundrel. He gives himself airs."

  "Perhaps," said old Belet Vor musingly, "but I seem to remember that many of the established nations in these parts had origins similar to ours."

  Darnad laughed shortly. "You have me there, Belet Vor—but that's for posterity. I know Chinod Sai for a blood-thirsty slayer of women and children."

  "You do him an injustice." Belet Vor grinned. "He has killed at least one youth in a fair fight."

  Darnad turned to me, speaking seriously. "If these Argzoon have Chinod Sai's protection, then we will have greater difficulty getting Shizala—and this other woman—out of their power. We are in a bad position."

  "I have a suggestion, if you will hear it," Belet Vor insinuated.

  "I'll listen to anything reasonable," said Darnad.

  "Well—I would say that the Argzoon and their ladies are guesting in the special chambers set aside for sudden visitors of some standing."

  "What of it?" I said, a trifle tersely.

  "Those chambers are conveniently placed on the ground floor. They have large windows. Perhaps you could help your friends without—er—actually disturbing our royal Bradhi?"