City of the Beast

Chapter Six SALVATIONAND DISASTER!

THERE was a momentary roaring in my ears and then I was plummeting through the opening, dragging the gauze cover with me.

I landed on my feet but staggered as the air was forced from my lungs. Then I whirled to confront the occupants of the tent.

There were two of them-a large, battered Argzoon warrior, resplendent in rudely-beaten bangles and rough-hewn gems-and a woman! She was black-haired, dark-complexioned and had a haughty bearing. She was wrapped in a thick, black cloak of some velvet-like material. She stared at me in surprise. She was as far as I could tell an ordinary human woman! What was she doing here?

Outside came yells from the Argzoon warriors.

Ignoring the woman, I gestured to the battered Argzoon to draw his sword. He did so with a sharp grin and came at me suddenly.

He was an excellent swordsman and, still recovering from my drop into his tent, I was forced to fight a defensive duel for a few moments.

I had little time to do what I had come to accomplish. I met his thrusts with the fastest parries I have ever made, returned them with thrusts and lunges of my own. Our swords crossed perhaps a score of times before I saw a break in his guard and moved in swiftly, catching him in the heart and running him through.

At that moment several more Argzoon rushed into the tent. I turned to meet them but before we could engage the woman cried imperiously:

"Enough! Do not kill him yet. I wish to question him."

I remained on guard, suspecting a ruse of some sort, but the warriors seemed to be in the habit of obeying the woman's orders. They stood their ground.

Cautiously I turned to look at her. She was exoti- cally beautiful in her wild, dark way, and her eyes smouldered mockingly.

"You are not of the Karnala," she said.

"How do you know that?"

"Your skin is the wrong texture, your hair is short-there is something about the set of your shoulders. I have never seen a man like you.

Where are you from?"

"You would not believe me if I told you."

"Tell me!" She spoke fiercely.

I shrugged. "I come from Negalu," I said, using the Martian name for Earth.

"That is impossible. There are no men on Negalu."

"Not now. There will be."

She frowned. "You seem to speak truthfully but in some sort of riddle. You are perhaps a-a…"

She seemed to regret what she was about to say, and stopped.

"A what?"

"What do you know of Raharumara?"

"Nothing."

This seemed to satisfy her. She put her knuckles to her mouth and seemed to gnaw them. Suddenly she looked up at me again.

"If you are not of the Karnala, why do you fight with them? Why did you jump into this tent and kill Ranak Mard?" She indicated the fallen Argzoon.

"Why do you think?"

She shook her head. "Why risk your life just to kill one Argzoon captain?"

"Is that all I did?"

She smiled suddenly. "Aha! I think I know. Yes, that is all you did."

My spirits sank. So I had been wrong. The tent did not hold some great Argzoon battle-leader. Perhaps it was a deliberate blind and the leader was elsewhere.

"What of you?" I said. "Are you a prisoner of these folk-a prisoner with some power?"

"Call me a prisoner if you like. I am Horguhl of the Vladnyar nation."

"Where lies Vladnyar?"

"You do not know? It lies to the north of Karnala, beyond Narvaash. The Vladnyar are ancient enemies of the Karnala."

"So Vladnyar has struck up an alliance with Argzoon?"

"Think what you like." She smiled secretively.

"And now, I think, you will d-" She broke off as there came a great sound of fighting outside the tent. "What is that?"

I could not think. It was impossible that the small force of Karnala warriors in the city had attacked the Argzoon-that would have been folly.

But what else?

As Horguhl and the Blue Giants turned towards the sound, I seized my opportunity, stepped forward and ran one of the Argzoon through the throat. I fought my way through the others and found myself outside the tent, staring into the darkness as the remaining warriors came after me.

I ran in the general direction of the noise of battle. I darted a quick glance back above the tent, looking to see if Shizala had made good her escape.

The ship was still there-hovering above the tent!

Why hadn't she left? I stopped, uncertain what to do, and in a second found myself engaging several of the gigantic warriors. It was all I could do to protect my own life, but as I fought I got the impression that something was happening close by and suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a group of splendidly-armored warriors of about my own height break through a mass of blue swordsmen.

The warriors were not from the city, that was plain. They wore helmets, for one thing-helmets from which nodded brightly-colored plumes. Phobos and Deimos, coursing across the heavens, gave illumination to the scene around me. The new warriors also had lances and some carried what looked like metal crossbows.

Soon their foreguard had pressed forward until I found myself with several allies helping me to engage the Argzoon who were attacking me.

"Greetings, friend," said one of them in an accent only slightly different from the one I was familiar with.

"Greetings. Your presence here has saved my life," I replied in relieved gratitude. "Who are you?"

"We are from Srinai."

"Did Telem Fas Ogdai send you here?"

"No." The man's voice sounded a trifle surprised.

"We were originally on our way to deal with a large force of bandits who fled into Karnala. That is why there are so many of us. A detachment of your border patrol were about to help us when a messenger came with news that the Argzoon were attacking Varnal-so we left the bandits and rode to Varnal as fast as we could."

"I am glad you did. What do you think our chances are of defeating them?"

"I doubt that we can-not completely. But we might be able to drive them away from Varnal and give your reinforcements time to come to your aid."

This conversation was carried on while fighting Argzoon warriors. But the Argzoon were becoming increasingly few and it seemed we were winning in that particular area, anyway.

At last we had them on the run and the combined force of Srinai and Karnala chased the retreating Argzoon towards the Calling Hills from whence they had come.

The Argzoon stood their ground on the crest of the first range of hills, and then we withdrew to count our strength and plan fresh strategy.

It was soon obvious that the Argzoon still outnumbered us and that the Srinai and Karnala who had attacked them from behind had had the advantage of being fresh and able to take the Argzoon by surprise.

But I felt much better. Now, I decided, we could withstand the next attack and hold the Argzoon off until help came.

Then I remembered the ship and Shizala. I returned to the now ruined Argzoon camp. The tent with the banner was still standing, unlike most of the others and, rather strangely, the ship still hovered above it. It seemed to me, peering through the moonlit darkness, that the ship was now lower above the roof, the rope-ladder brushing the top of the tent.

I called her name, but silence greeted me. With a feeling of foreboding I climbed up the yielding sides of the tent. It was a hard climb, but I made it rapidly, almost in panic. Sure enough, the rope-ladder was closer, the ship lower. I grabbed the ladder and began to clamber up it.

Soon I was inside the ship.

A brief glance showed me that it was empty.

Shizala had gone!

How? Where?

What had happened to her? What had she done?

Why had she left the slip? What reason was there for doing such a thing?

All these thoughts raced through my brain and then I was dropping down the rope-ladder again, hand over hand, until I was above the now uncovered roof-opening. I dropped through it as I had done earlier.

Save for the corpse of Ranak Mard the tent was empty. Yet there were signs of a struggle and I noticed that Ranak Mard's sword had been removed from his dead grasp and now lay on the other side of the tent.

Something else lay beside it.

A gun.

A gun of the Sheev.

It could only be Shizala's gun.

The mysterious, dark-haired woman Horguhl and the Argzoon warriors must have taken part in a struggle soon after I had left.

For some reason best known to herself, Shizala had decided to follow me into the tent. She had found me gone, of course, and confronted Horguhl and the Argzoon. There had probably been a fight and Shizala had been overpowered and captured.

She had not been killed-that was a mercy-or I should have found her corpse.

Abducted, then?

My misguided plan to kill the absent mastermind behind the Argzoon had been worthless. All my plan had succeeded in doing was putting a hostage in the hands of the Argzoon.

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.