Polaris of the Snows

by Charles B. Stilson

He was as stealthy as a cat, but Polaris saw him go, and caught a glimpse of his face as he disappeared.

"One of thy priests hath slipped away from thee, Kalin," he said. "Methinks he hastened to Minos with a tale to tell."

They went to the brink of the terrace. Far below them Analos was scuttling for the meadows like a scared rabbit, his priestly gown tucked well about his flying legs.

In the small court in the rear of the house Polaris and Kalin finished their work with the sledge and harnessed to it four of the small Sardanian ponies, to drag it up through the spiral way of the Gateway to the Future; for the path which Kalin purposed they should take led straight through the gateway mountain, and was the only path out of the valley, aside from the north pass, through which they had entered.

Just before they started Kalin summoned his priests and bade them farewell, giving them his blessing, which they took with bended knees and bowed heads, and several of them sobbing; for they loved Kalin well. His words forestalled words of surprise or of protest.

"Children of Hephaistos, Kalin goeth hence for a time," he said. "Perchance he will return; perchance thou shalt see his face no more. Let none gainsay his going, for it is of the gods. Now, lest the wrath of Minos lie heavily on thee, in suspicion that thou hast aided in the passing of Kalin and the strangers from Sardanes, get thou gone from the gateway to the valley, and spread diligently the report that Kalin and the strange man cast thee forth, in danger of thy lives. Fare thee well."

In a body the priests descended the terraces. As they stood at the top to see them go, Kalin caught the shoulder of Polaris and pointed over toward the white-walled Judgement House. From its pillared façade streamed forth a line of hurrying Sardanians, and the sun shone brightly on the ilium blades.

"Here come Minos and his men," said the priest shortly. "Take thy last look on the valley of Sardanes, and let it be short."

"Farewell, Sardanes—beautiful, horrible Sardanes," breathed Rose Emer. Then she, too, turned to the flight, and shuddered slightly as she turned.

Then into the darkness of the arched portal and up through the spiraled rocky way they urged the laboring ponies. Rose Emer carried two flaming torches to light the gloom of the way, and the two men bent their shoulders to the aid of the animals. Close at their heels slunk the seven dogs of the pack, with hackles erect and eyes glowing in the half dark of the place, the strangeness of which caused them many a misunderstanding whimper. Stoutly the little horses bent to their work, so that it chanced that they dragged the sledge out of the passage and onto the shelf where were the chapels, at the same time that the first of the runners of Minos leaped from the terrace path to the level of the plateau, many feet below the fugitives.