Chapter 6: In the Seraglio

With a parting word to Turgan and his followers, Damis made his way alone down the hill and into the thick tropical jungle which grew up almost to the gates of the Viceregal palace. He was well acquainted with a secret entrance into the building. It was a matter of minutes for him to locate the outer end and open it.

For half a mile he made his way underground until a huge stone door barred his way. He felt for the hidden catches and the slab of rock rose before him. As he turned toward the doorway he found himself looking into the muzzle of a black ray tube in the hands of a gigantic Jovian in the uniform of the Viceroy’s guards.

“Whence came you, Nepthalim?” demanded the guard, a cold note of suspicion in his voice.

“From far Torna,” replied Damis readily. “I am Durmino, Komar of the province of Capries. The slaves rose on us and all were slain except me. I have had to travel by night and hide by day to reach here. I knew not whether the slaves had conquered or not, but when I found them lying by thousands about Glavour’s palace, I knew that the reign of the Sons of God was safe. What news from Tubain?”

The face of the Jovian guard cleared as Damis spoke. Durmino, a son of Glavour by one of his Terrestrial concubines, was Komar of Capries, a fact well known to Damis. There was nothing in the newcomer’s story to excite suspicion.

“The fleet of the Ruler of the Universe is approaching,” the guard replied. “In two hours it will be hovering above us. We would have needed no aid had not the dogs of Earthmen found our source of power and managed to destroy it with stolen ray tubes. We have been cooped up here like rats waiting for Tubain to arrive. When he comes our vengeance will be heavy.”

“The heavier the better,” growled Damis with an oath. “The dogs have been getting surly for a generation. I hope that Tubain will teach them a lesson that will not be forgotten for ages to come.”

“He will, never fear,” laughed the guard. “Already Glavour has made his plans. I am not a member of the council, yet I have heard enough to realize why Glavour is our ruler. My brain could not conceive of such a stupendous plan.”

“I will go to my father now,” said Damis. “What is the word for passing the inner gate? I wish to surprise my sire for he doubtless mourns me as dead.”

“He thinks you are dead,” replied the guard, “yet I never heard of Glavour mourning for any loss which did not affect his pleasures. He has plenty of bastards to take your place. The word is ‘Tubain.’”

“I thank you, Son of God,” said Damis, “and I will inform my sire of the great respect and high regard which you have for him. Fear not, your words shall be truthfully reported to him.”

Leaving the Jovian guard hastily reviewing the conversation with the supposed Durmino, Damis made his way toward the palace. Since he knew that he would not reach another door until after several of the underground passages with which the foundations of the palace were honeycombed had joined, he had little doubt of his ability to make his way unsuspected into the citadel. He debated for a moment on the advisability of killing the Jovian guard and taking his weapons, but caution prevailed, and empty-handed, save for a dagger concealed under his robes, he strode forward.

His knowledge of the password enabled him to pass the various guards he met without difficulty. There were many of the Nepthalim who held subordinate positions in the outlying provinces and who were seldom at court, and the Jovian guards, who in their hearts regarded the Nepthalim as little better than the Terrestrials, paid small attention to him. He passed several guarded points before the path rose steeply and he passed through the final gate into the palace itself. A Nepthalim passed him hurriedly and Damis plucked at his robe.

“I am just from outpost,” he said. “What news of Tubain?”

“The fleet has entered the atmosphere belt a thousand miles east of here,” replied the Nepthalim. “They are dropping to an altitude of five miles and will then approach. They should arrive in an hour. It is well that they hurry.”

“What rush is there?” asked Damis in surprise. “We may not be able to leave here, but, at the same time, all the forces the slaves can muster would never force an entrance.”

“You have not heard then?” exclaimed the other in surprise. “No--certainly not, if you have been on outpost--for I just learned it myself. There is a rumor that Havenner lied when he said that he killed Turgan, the Kildare and Damis, the renegade--the curse of Tubain rest on him--on Mars. It is said that they not only escaped death but have returned to Earth armed with the weapons of the red planet. Havenner is with Glavour now and no one knows what the outcome will be. Since Tubain is at hand, doubtless nothing will be done until he arrives. That is the reason why Tubain altered his course and came down so far away instead of directly overhead. He hopes thus to elude the Martian weapons if the Earthmen really have them.”

“Surely that is a lie!” cried Damis.

“We hope that it is, yet Havenner would have been slain without mercy had he admitted that he left Mars without slaying or capturing Turgan and Damis. Many believe that it is true.”

“Is Glavour in the council room?” asked Damis. “I have a message.”

“It would be better for you to defer the message if it be ill news until Tubain arrives, brother, for Glavour is enraged beyond measure at all of us. He threatens to sacrifice us at the next games and he may do so unless Tubain alters the decree. He has not loved us since Damis broke his arm a month ago.”

“Nevertheless, I will deliver my message,” replied Damis. “While it may not please him, it is essential that he get it before Tubain arrives.”

“Good luck go with you, brother,” replied the Nepthalim with a shrug of his shoulders. “The temper of the Viceroy of God is an uncertain quality at best. He is in his seraglio.”

Damis saluted the messenger and made his way toward the inner portion of the palace where the women whom the lustful Viceroy had dragged into his harem were kept. He had no plausible excuse for passing the guards into this forbidden portion of the palace, but that was a matter which caused him small worry. There were few of the secrets of the palace which were not well known to Damis, who had at one time been major domo of the building. There were some well known to him, the existence of which was not even suspected by the majority of the Sons of God.

As he neared the seraglio, he turned off to his right and passed through a maze of little-used passages until he halted before what was apparently a blank wall. Casting a rapid glance around to ensure himself that there was no one in sight, he touched a hidden catch and a portion of the wall swung inward, opening a way before him. He entered a passage built in the thickness of the wall and lighted with radium bulbs. The door closed softly behind him. He removed his sandals lest even their quiet tread should betray him and on bare feet crept forward.

The passage bent and twisted as it followed the walls until Damis knew that he was in one of the walls of the seraglio. Praying that it would work noiselessly, he slid open a panel of stone and found himself looking through a semi-transparent hanging into the sacred precincts of the seraglio itself. Glavour stood facing him, his heavy face drawn up in a scowl of rage. Damis noted with satisfaction that one of the Viceroy’s arms was supported by a silk scarf and that he made no attempt to use it. With a pale face, Havenner stood before his ruler.

“The word has been brought to me from a source which I trust as much as I do your own word, Havenner,” Glavour was saying. “I tell you, I do not believe your story. If Damis and Turgan were dead, the Terrestrials would not see them alive again on Earth. Neither would they have weapons of which we know nothing. One of our observers admits that he saw a space ship land a few hours ago, coming from the direction of Mars. You failed in your mission, Havenner, and on you I pronounce the doom. I sentence you to the twilight of the gods.”

ce you to the twilight of the gods.”

“I appeal to Tubain from that sente ce!” cried the equerry with dry lips.

“Your appeal shall be noted and laid before him at the proper time,” replied the Viceroy savagely; “yet, by the time he arrives, it will be too late. Ho, Guards! Take him away.”

Havenner turned as though to resist, but six of the huge Jovians answered the Viceroy’s call. Two of them grasped him by the arms and started to lead him from the room.

“I appeal!” cried Havenner again. “I brought back the maiden whom I was sent to fetch, and for that reason I made no failure. To bring her was the principal item of my orders.”

Glavour’s face grew purple with rage.

“And who sent the message to Tubain which resulted in the orders which he sent me?” he demanded savagely. “It was sent by one of your henchmen and by your orders. You slew the sender before I could question him, but I know whose orders he obeyed. Take him away!”

The guards started to drag the luckless equerry from the presence of the Viceroy, but Havenner made a final appeal for his life.

“I will confess, Viceroy of God,” he cried. “No message was sent to Tubain. I dared not send such a message lest such orders would be returned as I caused to be given to you. I coveted the maiden for myself and I took this means of getting her. I had a false message delivered to you which would prevent you from taking her before Tubain arrived. In reward for my services as spy on you, I planned to ask that she be given to me. I surrender all claims to her, Glavour. Spare my life and you may have her.”

For a moment Glavour could not speak for rage.