MUCH MISCHIEF AFOOT
The morrow saw them on their return journey to Himyra, with Croft pushing his engine top speed. He wanted to get back and to work on the grenades at once, for two reasons. First, that they would offset in part at least the embargo against the manufacture of more rifles, and because it occurred to him that they would be of vast service should he have to force entrance to some enemy town.
For now Croft was planning his campaign. His knowledge gained through his unsensed presence at the council at Niera months before made him believe that Zollaria would throw her entire weight on Cathur's northern frontier, while Mazzeria attacked Bithur and possibly eastern Milidhur.
From a second motor-shop established at Ladhra and equipped with men trained in the Himyra plant he had already sent a motor-fleet to the capital of Gaya's home state for the rapid transport of troops to the frontier in case of need. He had organized a fleet of motor-driven marine transports to take men from Aphur and Nodhur to Bithur's aid. This expedition was to be led by Robur in person, and with him Croft had outlined each step so far as he could. They would proceed up that river promised Mazzeria for her aid in the war of conquest Zollaria planned, and debarking near the frontier, carry the war straight to the foe.
As for himself, he planned with Jadgor to cross the Central Sea almost due north, capture Niera, and penetrate the State of Mazhur, thereby establishing a dangerous flank movement which, if successful, would result in withdrawing the Zollarian army operating against Cathur's frontier. Two of his armored motors would go with the Milidhurian expedition and two with Robur against the blue men of Mazzer. The other sixteen would accompany the expedition north. These things he now explained to Jadgor, Lakkon, and Magur while they rushed back to the capital of Aphur. They heard him and nodded agreement.
Jadgor smiled and turned to the priest. "It appears Zitu has sent us a general as well as a genius of design," he exclaimed. "If Zitu inspires not his mind directly, then is he the most wonderful man Tamarizia has seen."
"Raised up for Tamarizia's hour of great need, O Jadgor," Magur declared. "And who should raise him save Zitu, who knows the future as we know the present and past? Zud says as much, and I believe it. Praised be Zitu's name." He made the odd horizontal sign of the cross Croft had first seen Abbu of Scira use.
"Nay, I doubt it not," Jadgor replied. "Tamhys shall yet live to learn the truth of this!"
Yet Croft, despite the religious superstitions of these truly patriotic minds, was human after all. He plunged into a frenzy of work on his return. He explained all to Robur, saw him thoroughly versed in the making of the grenades, leaped into his car and drove to Ladhra to begin operations there. Two weeks elapsed while he was getting everything to his satisfaction, and during those two weeks other things happened, which he could not foresee.
He returned to Himyra late one afternoon, drove to the shops, saw everything running smoothly, listened to the reports of Robur, who was enthusiastic over the progress being made, and drove on to the palace to bathe and rest for an hour, since even the splendid physique of Jasor's body was beginning to feel the strain of the months of scheming and toiling.
Fresh from his bath, he was suddenly minded to seek Gaya and learn if there were any word from Naia, such as she frequently sent him by Robur's wife.
He found her awaiting Robur's return, and proffered his request.
That Gaya was glad to see him there could be no doubt. His coming seemed to afford her relief. "My lord, your coming lightens my heart," she declared after Croft had greeted her by sinking on one knee. "The maid sent you her farewell, and asked that I say this much more: 'Tell him to forget not his promise.' She did not explain, yet I have felt you would know the meaning of her words."
"Her farewell? You say she sent me that?" exclaimed Croft, staring into her face. "By Zitu, Gaya, my friend, what meant she by that?"
"You know not of her absence from Aphur?" Gaya widened her eyes in surprise. "You have not heard?"
"I have heard nothing. I came to you for word," Croft began, and paused with an odd grip taking hold of his heart.
"Aye," Gaya wrinkled her brows. "Some days ago an escort came from Cathur, asking that the maid and Lakkon, her father, visit Scira, in order that Kyphallos might present his bride-to-be to his people before he ascended the throne."
"Kyphallos on the throne of Cathur!" Croft frowned. "Has Scythys, then, laid down the scepter in favor of his son?"
"Scythys has died," Gaya said. "Wherefore, despite the fact that the cycle of betrothal has not run out, Kyphallos craves the privilege of entertaining Naia and her father, and assuring his people that he has chosen a worthy queen as his consort on the throne."
"And—and she—and they—have gone?" Croft stammered as he spoke.
"Aye." Gaya looked into his eyes. "Jasor, what of it? I—I am a woman, and I have thoughts—fears, perhaps, or fancies. I like this journey not. What does it portend?"
"That I know not; yet shall I ascertain," Croft replied between set teeth. "She told me to forget not my promise. By Zitu and Azil and Ga, I shall not. Gaya, my sweet woman, how long have they been gone?"
"This is the third day since they departed, my lord."
"They went—how?"
"In the ship which brought the escort—one Kyphallos sent."
"The day after tomorrow they arrive. So then there is time."
Croft relaxed somewhat the physical tension which had held him, and his voice grew less sharp. He sighed.
"Time? Time for what, Jasor?" Gaya inquired.
"Tonight I shall sleep," Croft told her frankly. "And while I sleep I shall learn what is the true intent of this sudden desire on Kyphallos's part to show Cathur their queen."
Gaya's eyes grew wide. "You shall sleep—as you sleep to learn?" she faltered.
"Yes," Croft smiled. "And I shall learn, wife of my friend. Zitu made Naia of Aphur a maid to madden men's blood, not for Cathur, but for Jasor. Yes, I shall learn."
But despite his confident tone he was more than a little disturbed as he sought his own rooms that night and stretched himself on his couch. What intent lurked in the mind of Cathur's prince he could not see. Nor could he understand why, knowing what already he had told them, Jadgor and Lakkon had decided to accede to the Cathurian's request, unless they had followed the other man's course at the time of the betrothal and acted in order to blind suspicion of their counter preparations so far as they might, or at least to avoid an open rupture at this time.
Hence it appeared doubly important that he should learn what was toward in Cathur now. He focused his mind. His body relaxed. He projected his intelligent ego toward Scira to discover what it might.
At first he went to the cell of Abbu in the Scira pyramid to learn, if he might, what Abbu was about.
He found him speaking with a brother priest—was half-minded to leave, yet lingered, held by the first remark of the unknown monk.
"A nice time for Kyphallos to be at Niera, with his promised queen approaching Scira on the sea."
"He will return in time to greet her," Abbu said.
"Yet I like not his frequent journeyings to Niera, nor his association with the Zollarian nobles who make it their resort. Nor does Cathur like it overly well."
Abbu frowned. "Nor does Cathur like the stories which come back from Anthra concerning the things which occur there in the palace. Adita, they tell me, is more worshiped than Zitu. Ga, the true woman, or Azil, her son, have small consideration. 'Tis Adita, woman of folly and beauty, whose shrine is there."
"I have heard said that, while a creature of beauty, this Aphurian princess is not given to folly," his lay brother replied. "Mayhap she shall win Kyphallos from his present course, and so prove a blessing to Cathur in cycles to come."
"If so be she mounts the throne at all."
"You think she will not?"
Abbu shrugged. "Who knows? Cathur mutters even now, as you know. Scythys was a dotard. Kyphallos is a degenerate. Cathur is the worst-governed state in all Tamarizia—the most beset with taxes, with the least returns to show. But—Cathur is loyal to Tamarizia as a people. Think you they will long brook a king who makes merry with Zollarian nobles, while affairs of state go to pot?"
"Come!" cried the other. "You have heard something, Abbu, it would seem."
Abbu nodded. "Perhaps I keep my eyes and ears about me when I leave the pyramid."
Croft left. At least, he thought, Abbu was attending to his duties as Aphur's spy in so far as he might. And Cathur was muttering against their soon-to-be king. Cathur, then, was loyal—what if Kyphallos found her betrayal less easy than he expected? He smiled and willed himself to Niera, since now it appeared the Cathurian profligate was once more there. And if there, Croft thought he knew where to find him. He would be, almost without doubt, in the presence of Kalamita of the tawny eyes and hair.
And it was with her and her brother and Bzad, the Mazzerian chief, he found him, in a room of that palace overlooking the Central Sea. They sat together in a low-toned conversation. Evidently something important was forward, since they had closeted themselves thus, thought Croft.
Kalamita stretched her supple length like a cat about to yawn, and turned a slow smile on the Cathurian prince.
"So then," she said, "it is all thought out. You men, with your spears and swords, are far stronger than subtle, my lords. Leave the subtlety to a woman in your plans."
"I see no chance of failure in this, I confess," Bzad spoke as she paused. Croft noted a flash in his eyes.
"Not unless you bungle." Kalamita laughed.
"I?" Bzad growled. "By Adita, goddess of beautiful women, I shall make no mistake. See, I shall repeat it step by step. On the fourth day after the princess arrives, Kyphallos of Cathur invites her and her father to visit Anthra, and they take the ship the next day. Meanwhile I place my galley under the cover of Anthra and wait. At the same hour they set sail I slip forth. Midway we meet and I sail close in passing. A collision seeming imminent, in the confusion a wrong order is given on board Kyphallos's galley. The prow of my galley strikes his ship as it seeks to cross my bows through turning in the wrong direction. Kyphallos and the maid are saved. Lakkon drowns, and any surviving sailors on board the Cathurian ship are destroyed, so that none shall survive to tell what happened really.
"I sail to Scira and put Kyphallos ashore. We tell a story of disaster in which all perished save only him. According to it, this Naia died with her father. I sail away. She is mine—and once in Mazzeria, think you I shall not enjoy her beauty. By Adita, I think I shall!"
Kalamita nodded. "You have it, Bzad," she declared, "and soon you shall have—her—to do with—as you please. They tell me she is very fair indeed. She should bring you joy for some time."
A blind rage—a fiery disgust and loathing filled Croft's soul as he heard the wanton's words. This was the fate her soiled brain had evolved for the pure, sweet jewel of womanhood for whom his spirit cried. Yet since in his present state there was no chance for expression of those things he felt, he controlled his horror at the thought of Naia as the plaything of this cold-faced blue savage, and learned all he could.
"Thereafter," Bandhor spoke for the first time, with a thin-lipped leer, "our good lord Kyphallos shall come to Anthra, after a period of mourning, and invite our sister to visit him for a time. But upon her desiring to leave he shall refuse. A man of her ship's crew shall escape Anthra in a boat and bring tidings, whereupon him to whom she is pledged shall lay the affair before the emperor himself. Our army shall be ready. An expedition shall proceed to Anthra to rescue Kalamita. In the meantime Kyphallos shall have taken her to Cathur, and have concealed her—placing her in the sanctuary of Ga, where the vestals will have her in charge. Then shall Zollaria attack, and Mazzer. Tamarizia, finding herself assailed on all sides, shall break like the crushed-in shell of an egg!" He contracted the fingers of a mighty hand until they were flexed in his palm. "Thus it shall be."
Thus it shall be. Would it? Man proposes but God disposes, Croft thought to himself, Naia of Aphur the toy to a man of blue—a member of the servants' caste nation—Cathur to Zollaria. Tamarizia crushed. Kyphallos and his light o' love on the throne of Zitra where now the pacific old Tamhys sat. A pretty plan. Bzad and Bandhor, Kyphallos and Kalamita, in her scented and voluptuous beauty, seemed very sure it was coming about in time. To Croft, as he left them at their scheming and flitted back to his room in Aphur's palace, it seemed somewhat less likely to occur.