“Cousin?” I asked.
“Why, yes. I thought you knew―how stupid of me not to explain who I am. My name really is Valkar, but as you know I am not a Ganatolian, but a prince of the Ku Thad. My father is Lord Yarrak, the Uncle of the Princess, and the leader of the Ku Thad during her captivity.”
“I see; yes, I know Lord Yarrak well, he has been my host for some weeks, prior to my joining the Black Legion. Odd that he never mentioned a son―especially a son who had infiltrated the Black Legion in disguise ―when he knew I was planning the same sort of thing myself!”
“Not at all, Jandar. My father doubtless believes that I am dead, long since slain in the street fighting when the Chac Yuul first entered the city months ago. We became separated in the confusion, and when the warrior nobles escaped from the city, bearing the Princess away to the safety of the jungles, I remained behind. I was protected by friends among the common folk and stayed in hiding for some time, until matters quieted down. Before I managed to make my escape, the Princess had been captured, and so I remained here without seeking to join my father and my people. Friends in the city helped me disguise my golden skin and flame-red hair, and as a Ganatolian mercenary I gained a place in the ranks of the conquerors, hoping to assist the Princess, my betrothed, to escape later on―”
I fear some involuntary exclamation must have escaped my lips as Valkar spoke these words.
He broke off, staring at me.
“Why, what is it, Jandar? What is the matter? What have I said to disturb you? Why, man, you are white to the lips!”
I forced my features into a semblance of calm and steadied my voice with a considerable effort of will.
“Your―betrothed” I repeated in a low voice.
He shrugged a little and laughed in a self-deprecating way.
“Why―yes. The Princess and I have been betrothed since our childhood. A formal alliance of the two major branches of the blood royal―you understand; that sort of thing.”
“I did not know,” I said faintly. I felt exactly like a man who had just been kicked in the stomach. And I hope it did not show.
“In Shondakorian custom,” he went on idly, “a prince or a princess of the royal house will very often be pledged to marry his or her cousin from earliest ages. Darloona and I would most likely have been married by now had not the Chac Yuul invasion somewhat disrupted the normal flow of events.” He chuckled ruefully at this enormous understatement.
“But whatever is it, Jandar? Didn’t you know that Darloona and I were to wed?”
“In all truth, no.”
He laughed helplessly. “But, surely you must realize that only the fact that Darloona is to be my queen would force me to this dangerous extremity! Only to save my bride-to-be would I take such enormous risks as trying to maintain this masquerade and walk in disguise among the very ranks of they who are my enemies and the enemies of my house.”
I nodded wordlessly. I knew exactly what he meant.
And thus was I struck down into the very depths of despair, as must any man be, when he discovers that his best friend also loves the woman whom he loves, and has, in fact, already won her love and her promise of marriage!
All these long months of being hopelessly in love with a woman who despised me, who considered me a coward, a fumbler, and a fool―I thought I knew by now what hell was like.
But I had yet to learn what hell could really be!
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IN THE DEPTHS OF DESPAIR
Yes, I knew what Valkar meant when he said that only his great love for the Princess would have driven him to take such a desperate risk as venturing into the very ranks of the Black Legion in disguise.
I knew it all too well! For I, too, loved Darloona with a hopeless and consuming passion. My devotion to her was almost beyond the ability of words to describe. And only the fact that the woman I loved, the peerless Princess to whom I had given my heart, was in terrible danger would have driven me to the desperate extremity of penetrating the conquered city as an impostor.
Of course I knew exactly what Valkar meant! For I had been driven by the same emotion to risk precisely the same dangers as had he.
I thank God that the parallel did not occur to him, but of course he could have no reason to suspect that my devotion to Darloona was spurred by a passion identical to his own. Had he known this, I think I would have died of shame.
Neither he nor Darloona must ever have reason to suspect that I love her. Never by word or deed, by look or glance, must I permit either my best friend or the woman I love to guess the depths of my adoration.
It is a foolish passion, I admitted, that I, a homeless and wandering adventurer, a stranger come by chance or accident from another world, a lowly born member of an alien race, dared to love the splendid Princess of Shondakor―what a mockery!
I had known that my love was a hopeless one, of course; known it even before discovering that Darloona had sworn to wed Prince Vaspian of the Black Legion. Her contempt for me, freely expressed upon many occasions; her unfortunate experiences at my bungling and incompetent hands; these and many other factors had given an indication to me that I had been most foolish to admit my love, even to myself!
And so my position had long been a hopeless one. But worse was yet to come!
For the hopelessness of my situation was only increased by a feeling of horror and dread, when I came to realize that the woman I loved was being forced into a marriage with a man she despised―a marriage which she dared not oppose or avoid.
But now I had truly descended into the depths of despair.
For if Valkar and Darloona were in love, and sworn to each other, how could I hope to win the woman of my dreams, even if by some miracle I managed to free her from her vows to Vaspian and from the captivity of the Chac Yuul?
Black, bitter depression filled my aching heart. For I remembered that glimpse through the spyhole. I had seen Valkar with Darloona clasped in a passionate embrace, I had seen her shining eyes lifted to his, her tear-wet cheeks, and had heard the soft warmth of her pleading voice.
I had thought that my only friend in the city of Shondakor was now my accomplice and ally in the task of freeing the woman I loved from those that held her prisoner. And now it seemed that he was my rival for her heart. Nay, no rival, but already the victor in the unequal contest, for he had long since won her love.
And I wished that I had never set foot on the jungled surface of this strange and terrible and beautiful world, and that I had never looked upon Darloona, Warrior Princess of the Ku Thad!
The next day or two passed by without any occurrence of note. I fear I went about my duties like a mindless automaton, or a somnambulist. I hardly managed to pay attention to the things which went on around me. So deeply was I plunged into a black mood of utter despair that my drugged condition and leaden mood must have been obvious to everyone who encountered me. I responded with dull monosyllabic replies whenever anyone chanced to speak to me. I must have looked like a man stricken by some horrible discovery, some overwhelming calamity.
And that is precisely what I was.
But fortunately the Prince my patron dwelt secluded from the more populous sectors of the palace, and as my duties were few and I remained in my room most of the time, few if any could have noticed my depression.
Concluding my secret meeting with Prince Valkar of Shondakor, and without seeking an interview with the Princess Darloona, since it was now futile even to hope, I returned to Vaspian’s suite.
The Prince was greatly annoyed that I had not been able to obey his wishes and deliver the trinket to his betrothed, but it was a matter of the smallest importance, and the following morning when Golar had returned to his duties, he dispatched his confidential valet with the ornament and that was that.