Quest of the Golden Ape - Cover

Quest of the Golden Ape

Copyright© 2017 by Randall Garrett

Chapter 14: Land Beyond the Stars

At first Retoc the Abarian was too stunned by what he witnessed to think coherently. With the other Tarthians of royal blood he had received an unexpected summons to appear at the Royal Dock on the River of Ice and, before he could even try to fathom what it was about, an escort of Nadian guards had come to fetch him.

It was cold and murky on the banks of the River of Ice. The two men, Retoc and Hultax had arrived barely in time to see them unfastening the hawsers of the Royal Barge. Curious, he pushed closer through the crowd of nobles. Suddenly, before the barge was quite unmoored, as it swayed and rocked on the currents of the river, Nadian soldiers appeared with a platform on poles slung across their shoulders, the usual means of intra-city transportation for Nadian royalty. But this was no royalty Retoc saw on the platform, although they were dressed as royalty.

The woman, conscious and bound hand and foot, was the Virgin of the Wayfarers who had witnessed Prince Jlomec’s death. The man, unconscious, his head propped high on pillows, was the white giant who once on the Plains of Ofrid had almost strangled Retoc.

A hatred such as he had never known flashed through Retoc’s brain. He was so close he could see the gentle up-and-down motion of the giant’s chest as he breathed. Then, beyond the platform, he saw Volna. Volna smiled at him. The platform bobbed by, was placed on the barge at the foot of Jlomec’s bier. The remaining hawsers were cut loose.

There was, Retoc thought triumphantly, no return from the Place of the Dead.

But still, the white giant had recovered from what looked like certain death once, had vanished abruptly and fantastically when he would have died again. What was good enough for Volna the Beautiful was not necessarily good enough for Retoc of Abaria. He watched only long enough to see the royal barge pushed out into the icy currents of the river, then he turned and made his way to the second tier of observers, where Hultax stood among the lesser nobility and the military officers of the planet Tarth. He found Hultax and whispered for a time in his ear.


Hultax’s face blanched. “But lord,” he protested, “there is no return ... it is obvious the man will die ... you couldn’t expect me to...” Hultax, frightened, confused, could neither think clearly nor express himself properly. His mouth hung open.

[Illustration: The boar charged while death and the Golden Ape stood grinning.]

“Earlier, Hultax,” Retoc said with a hard smile, “you craved action. I give you action. Take a boat. There are some moored down-river for the use of Nadian priests on their religious pilgrimages to the banks where the stilt-birds dwell. Overtake the royal barge. Board it. Slay the man and the woman.”

“But I--the Place of the Dead...”

“Fool!” hissed Retoc. “I didn’t ask you to visit the Place of the Dead. That’s up to you. If you slay them first, on the River of Ice, and can bring back proof ... but the longer we talk, the further they are. You’ll go?”

It was phrased as a question; actually, it was a command. Grim-faced, the whip-sword trailing at his side, Hultax left the crowd of soldiers and made his way downstream. A few moments later he had poled a wooden skiff out into the icy current and went down-river in pursuit of the royal barge.


The guards had unbound Ylia’s fetters on the barge, knowing she could never swim for safety in the waters of the River of Ice. She sat now at the foot of Jlomec’s bier, with Bram Forest’s handsome head cushioned on her lap. It was very cold there on the river. Wind blew, rustling the reeds which grew along the bank. They had long since emerged from the river’s underground cavern. The swift current carried them now through a country of ice, a tundra. The reeds, twice as tall as a man, seemed to thrive on the riverbanks. They swallowed everything.

Bram Forest opened his eyes, and looked at her, and smiled. He tried to sit up, wincing as pain knifed through his head. “We seem to make a habit of this,” he said, smiling again.

“Shh, you mustn’t talk.”

She leaned close. He could smell the animal perfume of her body, like musk and jasmine. Impulsively, she kissed him softly on the lips. His arm went around her neck. He pulled her head down and drank deeply of her.

“Why...” she began, all breathless.

“Because I love you. I think I loved you the first moment I saw you. But I didn’t know it then.” He laughed softly, gently, and she did not know why this should be so.

“Why do you laugh?”

“I was an infant, the son of the Queen. Of Queen Evalla. Portox the scientist fled with me, the last of the royal Ofridian blood, to the other side of the solar system, to a world the twin of this, a world we never see because the sun always stands between us, a world called Earth. There I would wait until maturity. There I would be given the strength and the wisdom I needed. And then I would return to Tarth and right the ancient wrong. Well, I have returned. I love you. It is enough, Ylia. I want to think of the future, not the past.”

Ylia let him kiss her again. “Isn’t it the same, the future and the past? Aren’t they one? I too am of Ofridian blood, Bram Forest, of the lesser nobility. There are hundreds of us, living nomadic lives on the Ofridian Plains, where once our great nation stood.”

“I didn’t know that. It wasn’t in Portox’s training. Now Portox is dead. I buried him on this world called Earth. He could not even come back to his native Tarth.”

“Darling, don’t you see? That’s exactly why the ancient wrong must be righted, why Retoc must pay for his infamous deeds. So Portox and the millions of other Ofridians, slain, all slain, can sleep eternally in peace. You are their champion.”

“But revenge? What is revenge if--”

“You are the champion of the future too! Don’t you see, oh, don’t you? Of all the unborn tomorrows when the Ofridian nation may live again. Of all the unborn tomorrows when the nations of Tarth can live together in peace and harmony. Don’t you understand that?”

“It’s funny. I try to see my mother’s face. Queen Evalla. But all I see is you. She’s the past, Ylia. You’re the future.” He held her lightly.

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