Brutally he untied the ropes that bound Chlorie. She was stiff and weak, and the agony as the blood once more coursed freely through her veins, was almost more than she could bear. Still she remained silent, and with a noble gesture of majesty, stooped, and drew her mantle of blue about her naked body. Two other garments still lay on the ground—with a sudden thought she caught one up, and drew it within the folds of her cloak. She had a plan! Love had been born to her, in that exquisite moment of agony when she saw Alan knocked down. Her soul cried out within her that here was her mate at last. Her fine sense of belief and trust told her that it was impossible that he was sleeping the sleep of serquor. Sometime he would rise again—bruised, bleeding, torn, perhaps, but rise he would, and come to her aid.
Kulmervan took her roughly by the arm. “Come,” said he. “Waiko wait until the Kymo is full in the Heavens—it is but a short time. If Alan the Evil has not moved by then, follow me quickly. Always to the East, my friend. Always take the most easterly path, and you will find me.”
“Where are you going?” asked Waiko in horror.
“To the Cave of Whispering Madness,” said he, and involuntarily Chlorie shuddered.
“Do you know where it is, my Kulmervan?” asked Waiko.
“Yes. Have I not been there often? Ah, my friend, I arranged that the engines should fail. Ah, oft times should I have been in the Hall of Sorrows, but I came here instead, and of my own free will. I know the place I intend taking you to—I will show you sights—sights I have seen—ha! ha! ha!” and with a wild burst of laughter he dragged his unwilling captive through the bushes, and made his way Eastward.
Waiko remained silent, watching his vanishing friend. His mind was working strangely. The madness had left a deep sense of fear in the heart of Waiko. The inanimate body of Alan seemed to point to his undoing. The blood trickled slowly down the unconscious man’s face till there was a little red pool shining wickedly on the green grass. With a cry, Waiko picked up the club and swung it once, twice round his head. But as he would have swung it a third time, it slipped out of his nerveless fingers, and went spinning a hundred feet away. With a cry at his loneliness, Waiko turned and fled after Kulmervan. In a short space of time he had caught them up, and noticed with surprise that Chlorie was walking almost willingly with her captor. There was a rope passed round her body, it was true, but it was slack in the centre, and although she lagged somewhat behind, there was no need to drag her along.
“Alan?” questioned Kulmervan, as Waiko reached him.
“Is serquor.”
“Good.”