Chapter VII: The Going

‘Tis several years since last I faced this machine, many and many a day since I said that my story was done, and placed the record on the shelf of my anteroom, my heart full of satisfaction. And today I must needs add another record, perhaps two, to the pile.

When I set out for the highlands on the morn following what I last related I took with me but two or three men; not that I had any need for guards, but because it looketh not well for the emperor to travel without retainers, however few. Practically, I was alone.

I reached the locality as the sun went down. The sky was a brilliant color; I remember it well. Darkness would come soon, though not as quickly as farther south. Commonly, I think not upon such trifles; but I were nearing my love, and tender things came easily to my mind.

My chariot kept to the road which lay alongside the irrigating flume, a stone trough which runs from the snow-covered hills to the dry country below. I had already noted this flume where it emptied into the basin in the valley below; for it had had a new kind of a spillway affixed to it, a broad, smooth platform with a slightly upward curve, over which the water was shooting. I saw no sense in the arrangement, and made up my mind to ask Maka about it; for the empire prized this trough most highly. It ran straight and true, over expensive bridges where needed, with scarce a bend to hold back the flow.

When I stopped my car outside the house I was surprised that none should come out to greet me. Maka had sent word of my coming; all should have been in readiness. But I was forced to use my whistle. There was no stir. I became angry; I told my bullies to stay where they were, and myself burst in the door.

The house was a sturdy stone affair of one floor, set against the side of the mountain, a short distance above the flume. I looked about the interior in surprise; for not a soul was in sight in any of the compartments. There were signs that people had been there but a few moments before. I called it strange, for I had seen no one leave the house as I approached.

At last, as I was inspecting the eating place, I noted a small door let into the outer wall. It was open; and by squeezing I managed to get through. I found that it let into a long, dark passage.

I followed this, going steadily down a flight of stairs, and all of a sudden bumped into an iron grating. At the same moment I saw that the passageway made a turn just beyond; and by craning my neck and straining my eyes I could see a faintly lighted chamber just a few feet away.

And before my eyes could scarce make out the figures of some people in the middle of the place, a voice came to my ear.

“Hail, Strokor!” it said; and great was my astonishment as I recognized the tones of Edam, the young dreamer whom Maka had brought to my house.

“Edam!” I cried. “What do ye here? Come and open these bars!”

He made no reply, save to laugh in a way I did not like. I shook the grating savagely, so that I felt it give. “Edam!” I roared. “Open this grating at once; and tell me, where is Ave?”

“I am here,” came another voice; and I stopped in sheer surprise, to peer closer and to see, for the first time, that it were really the dreamer and the chit, these two and no more, who sat there in the underground chamber. They seemed to be sitting in some sort of a box, with glass windows.

“Ave--come here!” I spoke much more gently than to Edam; for my heart was soft with thoughts of her. “It is thy lord, Strokor, the emperor, who calls thee. Come!”

“I stay here,” said she in the same clear voice, entirely unshaken by my presence. “Edam hath claimed me, and I shall cleave to him. I want none of ye, ye giant!”

For a moment I was minded to throw my weight against the barrier, such was my rage. Then I thought better on it, and closely examined the bars. Two were loose.

“Ave,” said I, contriving to keep my voice even, although my hands were busy with the bars as I spake. “Ave--ye do wrong to spite me thus. Know ye not that I am the emperor, and that these bars cannot stand before me? I warn ye, if I must call my men to help me, and to witness my shame, it will go hard with ye! Better that ye should come willingly. Ye are not for such as Edam.”

“No?” quoth the young man, speaking up for the chit. “Ye are wrong, Strokor. We defy thee to do thy worst; we are prepared to flee from ye at all costs!”

I had twisted one of the bars out of my way without their seeing it. I strove at the next as I answered, still controlling my voice: “‘Twill do ye no good to flee, Edam; ye know that. And as for Ave--she shall wish she had never been born!”

“So I should,” she replied with spirit, “if I were to become thy woman. But know you, Strokor, that Ave, the daughter of Durok, would rather die than take the name of one who had spurned her, as ye did me!”

So I had; it had slipped my mind. “But I want thee now, Ave,” said I softly, preparing to slip through the opening I had made. “Surely ye would not take thine own life?”

“Nay,” she answered, with a laugh in her voice. “Rather I would go with Edam here. I would go,” she finished, her voice rising in her excitement, “away from this horrible man’s world; away from it all, Strokor, and to Jeos! Hear ye? To Jeos! And--”

But at that instant I burst through the grating. Without a sound I charged straight for the pair of them. And without a sound they slipped away from before my grasp. Next second I was gazing stupidly at the rushing, swirling water of the flume.

And I saw that they had been sitting in the cabin of a tiny boat, and that they had got away!

There was an opening into the outer air; I rushed through, and stared in the growing twilight down the black furrow of the flume. Far in the distance, and going like a streak, I spied the glittering glass windows of the little craft. Once I made out the flutter of a saucy hand.