CHAPTER XVII
The Love of Lady Rakshasi
In the period that ensued, Ramey had reason to be glad that Lake O'Brien had insisted on accompanying him.
True, the Lord Vibhishana had given him instructions for finding Ravana's chambers. Had Lanka been other than in a state of siege, Ramey could have reached his objective in simple fashion. But it had been impossible to take into account the constant stream of Videlians racing hither and thither through the corridors of the citadel ... the guards ... the messengers ... the armed companies marching to take their emergency battle-posts.
More than once, Ramey and Lake were forced to take refuge in whatever places of concealment offered. More than once they were forced to desert entirely the path they had been following, choose a new route altogether toward their objective. And with each devious turning, Vibhishana's directions became more obscure and confused, until Ramey, at last, knew neither where Ravana's chambers lay nor, indeed, where he himself was!
It was then that Lake O'Brien proved himself an indispensable ally. Educated in architecture, trained in the hard and practical school of active archeology, he displayed an almost psychic sense of location. With fine discernment he reasoned his way through the tumultuous labyrinth which was Lanka. Up two levels—"The Regent's quarters are always in mid-palace, Ramey"—to a series of marble halls, left to that side of the citadel facing the ferry-ports—"stands to reason his apartment would face the docks, you know"—and finally, justifying the precepts of pure logic, into chambers more sumptuous than any Ramey had laid eyes on since he confronted Ravana in the throne-room.
The passage was swift, but not entirely unimpeded. It was their good fortune, though, that such Videlians as they met along the way were either traveling in groups—in which case the clank of their accoutrement served as noisy warning, sending the two to cover—or were single guards, set to watch over a strategic doorway. And as is ever the case where strong walls lend a sense of false security, the guards had grown careless. This was an error for which two who fought paid with their lives. Three more were left gagged and bound in places where they would not easily be discovered.
So, at last, came Ramey and Lake to their destination. And reaching there, they experienced the greatest surprise of their entire, hazardous journey. For the doors of Ravana's quarters, which they had fully expected would be guarded by not one man but a whole detachment, were not only without guard—but half ajar!
Ramey said exultantly, "Our army must have him in a dither! He's gone out to supervise the fight and left home-plate unguarded!"
Lake said, "It looks that way, but—it's not logical. Ravana's the kind of guy who looks after his own skin when the going gets tough. If the battle were going against him, he'd be locked in here with a whole damned army at the doors to protect his precious hide. I don't like it!"
Ramey chuckled. "Well, I'll be dog-goned! And all this time I thought you were Lake. Hyah, Syd!"
Lake grinned. "Okay. I guess I do sound like the old gloom-monger at that. Well—let's get moving!"
And cautiously they crept through the doorway into the first of a series of connecting chambers which comprised the inner sanctum of Lanka's regent.
All the great courts lay silent. From afar, as if muted by granite blankets, still fitfully came to them the sound of distant fighting. But no footstep, no voice, marred the quiet of this refuge—No!—There was the murmur of voices! Ramey gripped his comrade's arm, whispered:
"In there! It sounds like—"
Lake nodded, eyes glinting. "Yes! Sheila!"
Feverishly, they crossed the last open space to the doorway beyond which they had heard the girl's voice. Revolvers drawn and ready, they inched open this ultimate barrier. As they did so, the faintly-heard drone turned into speech. Ringing defiance in Sheila's sweet, familiar tones.
"No! If I were the last Earth woman left alive and your brother the last male of a thousand worlds, still would my answer be the same! I want no part of Lord Ravana!"
Came the voice of another, a slow, throbbing voice Ramey Winters knew only too well. It was a voice which at once cajoled and taunted.
"Because there is—another, O Lady Sheilacita?"
"Perhaps."
"But if this one were to turn away from thee, and seek his pleasure in another? Say, for example—" In his mind's eye Ramey, though those who spoke were still invisible to him because of a heavy arras veiling the half-open doorway, could envision the languorous lids of the Lady Rakshasi drooping with heavy suggestion—"for example, myself? Then would your faithfulness waver?"
Sheila's answer was steadfast, unshaken, scornful.
"You speak of impossibilities, woman of Videlia."
"Okay!" Ramey nudged Lake. "Now!" And he brushed aside the drape, slipped forward into the retiring chamber where conversed the two women. "Well spoken, Sheila! Maybe her Ladyship will wise up to the fact that Earthmen aren't bought and sold with promises—after a while! Don't move!"
He rapped this last to the Lady Rakshasi as, amber cheeks crimsoning she stirred to rise.
"Stay where you are!" he commanded. "Sheila, come over here. That's right. Now, Rakshasi—where is the Bow your brother stole from me? Speak up! Or by the gods—"
But his answer did not come from the half-open lips of the Videlian princess. It came from a double source; the eyes of Sheila Aiken leaping open in sudden alarm, her cry, "Ramey! Behind you! Look out!"—and from a mocking voice accosting him from the chambers through which he had lately come.
"You want the Bow, Lord Ramaíya? It is right here in my hands—charged and eager to speak! Would you care to hear its message?"
Ramey whirled. Smiling mirthlessly, the Bow drawn to his shoulder, advancing toward him was Lord Ravana!
Ramey cried, "He's bluffing, Lake! That Bow's not fueled! Rush him!"
And he ducked into a crouch, leaped a step toward the overlord of Lanka. But Ravana's sharp command was not delivered in the voice of one who tries a ruse. It stopped him short, because it was strident and heavy with assurance.
"Hold! Another step and you die! Not only you but your companions, also!"
Indecision trembled through Ramey. Then, measuring his chances, he took the path of caution. There was still a chance Ravana was pulling a fast one, but—Sheila! He must not needlessly imperil her life, or that of Lake. He stood still. But he said,
"The Bow is not munitioned, Ravana. If it were you would long since have turned it against those who storm your citadel. You would not waste it upon three individuals."
The grim lord of Lanka smiled at him sourly.
"I have said before, Earthmen, you are clever. You are half right in your conjecture. I cannot use the Bow on those who vainly attack Lanka—and for a reason not hard to explain. So far I have been able to obtain but a minute particle of the precious element. Such a scrap would not hinder an army. But mark me well! It is more than enough to dispose of you and those others who lead the uprising. So dare not my patience! Seshana!" He called the name, and at the farther end of the chamber whence he had come appeared that captain whom Ramey had once met on the mainland shore.
"Yes, my Lord?"
"Have a crier call word to my brother, Vibhishana, and to the Gaanelian, Sugriva, skulking off Lanka's shores in a draggle-tailed navy of rafts, that I hold as prisoners not only the Lady Sheilacita but also Lord Ramaíya and the laughing one, Lakshmana. If they bring not an end to these mad hostilities within the hour, warn them these hostages die!"
"Yes, Sire!" Seshana vanished.
Comprehension overwhelmed Ramey Winters, leaving a bitterness on his palate.
"Then it was a trap. The unguarded doors ... the open way to these chambers...."
Ravana laughed. "Aye, a trap, dog of Earth. Sometimes I fear you children of the green planet are all fools! Imagine a warrior idiot enough to leave in his wake an enemy unslain, merely bound! Long since we discovered one you had tied and hidden, learned your intention. The pathway was cleared that you might readier walk into our midst. And now—stand aside, Rakshasi! I will dispose of these creatures who have thrice pitted themselves against me."
Sheila sprang forward with a little cry.
"Dispose! You—you mean you're going to kill them? After having named them hostages against the surrender of our forces?"
"Even so, my Lady," replied Ravana mockingly. "It is not my folly to leave unharmed those who have proven dangerous to me."
"But your word, Lord Ravana! Your word of honor!"
"What Ravana does is to be judged by no man," said the Videlian haughtily.
"You dirty rat!" rasped Lake savagely. "Trick our friends into surrendering to save us, then shoot us anyway. Well—"
His sidelong glance at Ramey was sign enough. It meant what Ramey had been thinking. That if they separated, rushed Ravana simultaneously, one of them might reach him. Ramey's muscles tensed, his lips framed the starting word. But even as he would have cried it, a warmth brushed by him. The Lady Rakshasi, a great, golden panther of a woman, strode past him to confront her brother boldly.
"A moment, my kinsman!" she pleaded. "You cannot do this thing! Have you forgotten our agreement? You pledged me the life of this Earthman, Ramaíya!"
"Stand aside, sister!" ordered Ravana curtly. "No longer do old pledges obtain. Since we struck that pact much has happened. The man has roused the rabble from my dungeons against me ... threatened my citadel ... invaded my own private quarters. He must die!"
"He must live!" cried Rakshasi. "Even as you hunger for the Lady Sheilacita, so do I demand this human for myself! For the other I care not; wreak thy vengeance upon him if you will. But—"
And there would never, saw Ramey Winters suddenly, be a better opportunity than this! For sultry-faced, angry, the Lord Ravana had let the Bow slip from his shoulder. His eyes were upon his sister, his grip on the weapon insecure. Ramey's voice was like the crashing of a cymbal.
"Now, Lake!"
With the word, he leaped forward, head low, shoulders driving for the Videlian's legs as they had driven at the legs of opposing linesmen years ago. Beside him he felt the reassuring bulk of Lake O'Brien.
Then everything happened at once! His hands met ... gripped ... tightened about flesh. The body of the giant Martian seemed to totter above him; a shod foot lashed viciously into his temple, and great stars sprang from sudden darkness to whirl dazzingly before his eyes. He was aware of his own harsh, grating breath sobbing through his teeth ... a roar of rage strangely mingled with terror ... then a violent blast of flame mushrooming before him. Hot, searing flame that crisped the very perspiration from his brow, leaving his flesh baked and raw.
Then the solid thud of a fist meeting flesh ... Lake O'Brien howling desperately, "My eyes, Ramey! I can't see!" And another soul-sickening sound. That of a woman's voice screaming in shrill, animal agony ... dying abruptly in a low, choked, ominous gurgle.
Bruised and shaken, burned and dazed, Ramey staggered to his feet. All before him was still a blazing sheen of light, but now this dulled, and he saw that Ravana, still clutching a now-useless Bow, was fleeing across the chamber.
Ramey's automatic was heavy in his blistered palm. He fired it once ... twice ... after the rapidly disappearing figure. But in vain. Ravana had scuttled through the door, clanging it closed behind him.
Then, and only then, had Ramey time to look at the others. Lake was still beside him, was even now striving to rise, pawing before him as one who stumbles through a mist. He was groaning, "My eyes, Ramey! Sheila—I can't see!"
Ramey sprang to his side, lifted him.
"Easy, old boy! You'll be all right in a sec. The Bow going off in our faces, that's what did it—" But as he stared into his companion's face, saw that Lake's eyes were wide open, the entire cornea that covered his eyeballs a fog of smoky-blue, he realized all too well what had happened.
Lake had looked directly into the flame of the Bow when its charge was released! And its incandescence flaming before him had blinded him as surely as if his eyes had been gouged from his head. Perhaps soaked up—as it had dried every ounce of moisture from Ramey's skin—the aqueous humor of his eyes. Only Ravana's kick, flattening Ramey, closing his eyes, had kept the young airman from sharing an identical fate!
And—Rakshasi?
He glanced about him wildly ... found her ... and turned away, shuddering. The Lady Rakshasi, great, golden panther whose every movement had been a lure and a temptation, would move no more. For upon her lithe and vital body had spent itself the full strength of the discharging Bow. That which remained of her once breathtaking loveliness was a blackened—something—not pleasant to look upon.
Nauseated, Ramey covered his eyes. Then Sheila was in his arms, crying, "Ramey! Oh, Ramey, she—she saved your life! Tried to tear the Bow from Ravana—Lake!"
Lake said dazedly, frightenedly, "Sheila—I can't see you! Where are you? Everything is black!"
Then a new sound rang clear in the farther chamber; the scuff of hurrying footsteps, the clank of mail. Winters spun to Sheila swiftly.
"Sheila, is there another way out of these chambers—a way leading down to the waterfront? Yes? Good! We've got to get out of here—and quick. Take Lake's other arm. All right, Lake, old boy, hold tight. We're going to get you to Doc Aiken if it's humanly possible!"
And huddled together like three fleeing the storm god's wrath, they raced in the direction that Sheila pointed.