22
How long he lay unconscious Robert could not know. When he opened his eyes again, the din of battle had ceased.
He found himself extremely weak, and it was with difficulty that he got to his feet. For several minutes he swayed uncertainly, his knees all but refusing to hold him up. The rare Martian atmosphere seemed like a vacuum. His senses reeled drunkenly.
An ornamented flask, hung at his late adversary’s belt, caught his eye. Uncertainly he stooped and unfastened it. His parched throat seemed afire as he twisted at the flask’s cap with clumsy fingers. As the cap dropped to the sand, he raised the neck to his hot lips and drank.
The fluid in the flask all but choked him as he gulped it down. He recognized it as gao, a vicious wine distilled from the peculiar sea-weed growth of the marshy regions. Yet the craving to drink was so strong that he absorbed a generous portion of it before putting down the flask.
So potent was the wine that he instantly felt invigorated. His nausea was gone. He seemed to have taken a new lease upon life.
Discovering that his arm was bleeding profusely, he once more attempted the removal of his coat, this time with success. He ripped his left shirt sleeve to the shoulder. There was a deep gash above his elbow. Deftly he twisted a torn strip of the sleeve below the wound, thereby checking the flow, and bandaged the cut as well as he could. This done, he looked about him curiously.
He was apparently alone upon the battlefield, over which a deathlike quiet, now prevailed. Here and there a tent stood, while the rest were collapsed upon the ground where they had been knocked down during the fierce hand-to-hand struggle that had surged round them. So precipitate had been the retreat of the late emperor’s army that it had not had time to strike its tents in the rear before being swept far back of its original position.
Out on the tent-dotted plain ahead of him Robert suddenly observed another living being. This person, who was perhaps a quarter of a mile distant, was progressing in his direction by a series of curious dashes from one standing tent to another. The sun shone in Robert’s eyes, making it difficult for him to see plainly.
As he squinted painfully, he made out a second figure, beyond the first, seemingly in pursuit and gaining. Determined upon solving this latest riddle, Robert tottered off to intercept the fugitive. His strength seemed to return to him with the use of his legs, for his knees soon steadied.
As they neared each other the fugitive flitted suddenly behind a tent and remained there. Evidently Robert’s presence had been discovered and had startled him. The pursuer came on swiftly, running directly toward the point where his quarry had hidden. He brandished some object resembling a long whip. From time to time he shouted something unintelligible, which Robert could hear but faintly.
His curiosity now thoroughly aroused, Robert himself moved behind a near-by tent in order that he might observe without being observed.
The pursuer came on quickly, but finally stopped as if confused by his quarry’s disappearance. It was plain that he did not know which tent the other had taken refuge behind.
At this moment Robert saw the fugitive dart out into the open again and make directly toward the tent behind which he himself stood. Simultaneously he heard a shout from the other, who in another moment appeared in pursuit. It was at this juncture that Robert suddenly perceived that the fugitive was a woman!
Before he could think further the fugitive dashed round another tent and past his. She halted uncertainly, then, unaware of his presence, darted quickly to his side. Her hand, as she flattened herself quivering against the wall of the tent, touched his. Quick as a flash she wheeled upon him.
Even as her involuntary cry of fear rang out, she recognized him. It was Zola!
The next instant her pursuer panted round the tent’s edge, his evil face distorted with passion.
“You devil,” he hissed, raising a murderous-looking whip to strike her. His hand dropped abruptly as he espied Robert.
Before the Martian could recover from his astonishment, Robert swung at his jaw with every ounce of his remaining strength. His fist landed with crushing force, driving the Martian’s suddenly inert body before it like that of a stuffed dummy. Several yards away it plowed through the sand and lay still. Weeping softly, Zola crept into his arms.
“Oh, my Ro-bert,” she faltered, “I thought—I should—never—see you again.”
As for Robert, he could but hold her hungrily to him.
“You will never—never—let them keep me—from you again?”
“Never, dearest!”
She sighed contentedly. Her arms crept round his neck. She raised her face to his. Her soft, tremulous lips met his tenderly. Then she caught sight of the reddening bandage upon his arm. Instantly all her mothering instinct was alive. She wriggled free from his embrace like a sinuous kitten.
“You have been wounded!”
Robert chuckled.
“But not nearly so badly as our friend, the late emperor,” he said.
“He is——?”
“Dead. He had the misfortune to stop the sharp end of my blade during the skirmish between us.”
He said nothing of poor Taggert’s death. She would be sadly grieved over the jolly little reporter’s brave finish. Time enough when she questioned him, or noticed Taggert’s continued absence.
“You fought him for me, my brave! Ah, I should have died had you fallen!”
He took her in his arms again, while only the sun looked on.
“It was well that he died!” she broke out fiercely, without warning. “He lured me from out of our lines with a forged message which I thought you had written, Ro-bert. I was bound, taken to his tent, and a guard set over me. He made love to me, and laughed when I slapped his face. Then he left, but said he would soon tame me. When the battle turned against him, and his army was finally put to rout, his two guards set upon me. One, I stabbed to death, but this” (pointing to the Martian in the sand) “wrested the blade from me. I fled and he pursued me here.”
She shuddered, but went on with her self-appointed task of improving upon Robert’s indifferent bandaging.
“Little dove,” said Robert, irrelevantly—and was fittingly rewarded.
Hand in hand they turned toward the city. Before them lay several miles of sand, much of which was strewn with the bodies of those unfortunates who had fallen in battle. Wearily they picked their way, sadness in their hearts over the thought of the many brave hearts stilled, but, withal, a feeling of wonderful peace in having found each other safe.
An atmosphere of utter desolation hung all about them like an envelope of dread. Here and there a poor, wounded warrior raised himself to call for water or plead for aid. They gathered up some of the full canteens from those fallen, and from them gave relief to a number of thirst-tortured ones on their way. Where she could be of assistance, Zola stopped to apply a bandage, to bathe a fevered brow, to speak a word of comfort, and Robert assisted her.
Thus they had traversed nearly a mile when a commotion off to the southeast attracted their attention. A column of soldiers was marching toward them. The flag of the metropolis waving at its head dispelled their first fears. Robert guessed that it was a part of the right column returning with prisoners from its victorious attack. This conjecture subsequently proved correct.
The column soon overtook them. Room in an officers’ conveyance was quickly and eagerly made for them by its solicitous occupants, and they rolled back through the city gates in short order.
The approach of the victors had already been observed, and the great city fairly bristled with gay flags. Welcoming, hysterical throngs greeted them at the gates with deafening cheers and shouting.
Among the first to greet them were Hakon and Professor Palmer. They arrived astride a pair of fine lunas, as the victorious troops were entering the gates. These animals, which resemble our horses, were of a small, precious herd owned by Hakon, they being quite rare.
With a glad cry Zola leaped out of the conveyance and ran toward her father. Likewise he jumped to the ground and ran with pathetic eagerness to meet her. They embraced each other while the soldiers and public looked on in sympathetic understanding. Scarcely one of them but had heard of their princess’ latest abduction with sorrow almost as keen as her father’s, for she was dearly beloved by all.
A lump rose in Robert’s throat as he noted their touching reunion. Could he—should he—pluck this Martian flower from her kin and country, to take her back with him to a strange world? Once more he wondered whether he could hope to make her happy—to make her forget. He feared not, and his heart was heavy with the realization that he must give her up—that an attempt to transplant her would prove a sad failure. Rather than see her pine away in a strange world he would go back alone, even though it broke his own heart. He turned to greet Professor Palmer as that big-hearted and lovable man swung down off his steed and rushed upon him with open arms. Truly, here was such a friend and companion as few men ever were blessed with.
“Lad, lad, it is good to see you again!” And he hugged Robert with such fervor that it was with difficulty he managed to return his greetings and assure him that he was, indeed, quite safe, and delighted to be back.
Hakon was even more effusive in his greeting. Leading his daughter by the hand, he approached Robert almost humbly, albeit with an unconscious dignity—the inevitable bearing of one born to rule.
“You have brought back my greatest treasure to me, sir; and victory, too. Nothing you may ask of me is too great a reward.”
“I but shared in the glorious triumph of your brave men, sire,” Robert answered.
The ruler made an imperious gesture born of habit.
“Enough, sir! We owe everything to you. Ask anything you will, and it is yours.”
Robert was seized with considerable embarrassment. The cynosure of countless worshiping eyes, including a pair of very blue and very trustful ones beside the governor, he wished devoutly that he could escape. His was not a bombastic nature. Naturally of a somewhat retiring disposition, this sudden lionizing temporarily robbed him of coherent speech.
He thought of poor Taggert, who had given his life. There was but one thing that he wanted—and she was denied him. He had definitely determined not to sacrifice her future happiness for his own. Her eyes tempted him sorely. They seemed to reproach him. He realized that she really loved him and hoped that he would ask for her hand. He also felt assured that Hakon would readily consent to his marrying her, if he were to remain upon Mars. But his first duty was to the professor and Taggert. He had been entrusted with a mission by the loyal-hearted reporter as the latter was dying. That mission he would fulfil to the limit of his power.
“If you will persist in a reward, sire, then let it be in tynir, the yellow metal which we call gold, and which is so plentiful here but so rare on our planet—or in rahmobis, gems of great value among our people, who know them as diamonds.”
“It shall be as you desire,” answered Hakon. “You shall have as much of both as can be carried in the Sphere.”
Even as Robert spoke he saw the happiness fade from Zola’s countenance. A look of gentle, pathetic reproach came into her eyes. She looked away as if to hide it from him.
It flashed to Robert’s mind that perhaps, after all, they might not be able to return to the Earth. Would they find the Sphere intact? He thrilled guiltily, realizing that the answer to this question might yet make the princess his.
Slowly the procession threaded its way back through the cheering populace toward the palace. Robert, astride Hakon’s mount, rode beside Professor Palmer, while Zola and her father followed in one of the luxurious motor carriages.
Her strange quiet disturbed her father.
“My daughter is not contented?” he ventured anxiously.
“I am but fatigued,” she replied, forcing a smile.
“Ah, of course you are, my dear. You must place yourself in the care of my physicians immediately upon our arrival at the palace.”
Nevertheless, he hazarded a shrewd guess as to the real cause of her lassitude.
As for Zola, her heart was heavy. Did Robert care more for precious metals and gems than for her? She would gladly have gone to the utmost ends of the universe with him unhesitatingly, with implicit trusting, yet he seemed already to have forgotten his recent avowal of love. He had even avoided her eye guiltily.