“Well, Meryola?”
She favored Hendrin with a black look and said, “I was about to send the Mercurian on an errand to the perfumers’ shop. My stocks are running low.”
Darrien chuckled. “Clever, but you’ve done better, I fear. There are plenty of wenches around who’ll run your errands—and your supply of perfumes was replenished but yesterday.” The little man’s eyes burnt brightly with the flame of his malevolent intelligence. “I don’t know why you try to fool me, Meryola, but I’ll be charitable and accept your word for more than it’s worth.”
He fixed both of them with a cold stare. “I suspect you two of a conspiracy against Elissa—and you, Mercurian, are particularly suspect. Meryola, you’ll pay if the girl’s been harmed. And, Hendrin—I want the girl back.”
“Sire, I—”
“No discussion! Mercurian, bring back the girl before nightfall, or you’ll die!”
Darrien scowled blackly at both of them, then turned sharply on his heel and stalked out. Despite his four feet of height, he seemed an awesome, commanding figure.
The door closed loudly.
“I didn’t expect that,” Meryola said. “But I should have. Darrien is almost impossible to deceive.”
“What do we do now?” Hendrin said. “The girl, milady—”
“The girl is in the dungeons, awaiting execution. She’ll be dead before Darrien discovers where she is.”
Hendrin rubbed his dome-like head. “You heard what Darrien said, though. Either I produce the girl or I die. Do you think he’ll go through with it?”
“Darrien always means what he says. Unfortunately for you, so do I.” She stared coldly at him. “The girl is in the dungeons. Leave her there. If you do produce the girl alive I’ll have you killed.”
Hendrin nodded unhappily. “Milady—”
“No more, now. Get away from me before Darrien returns. I want to take his mind off Elissa until the execution’s past. Then it will be too late for him to complain. Leave me.”
Baffled, Hendrin turned away and passed through the door into the hallway, which was dimly lit with levon-tubes. He leaned against the wall for a moment, brooding.
Events had taken a deadly turn. He had interposed himself between Darrien and Meryola, and now he was doomed either way. If he failed to restore Elissa to Darrien, the tyrant would kill him—but if he did bring back the Earthgirl, Meryola would have him executed. He was caught either way.
For once his nimble mind was snared. He shook his head moodily.
The girl was in the dungeon. The shadow of a plan began to form in his mind—a plan that might carry him on to success. He would need help, though. He would need an accomplice for this; it was too risky a maneuver to attempt to carry off himself.
The first step, he thought, would be to free the girl. That was all-important. With her dead, there was no chance for success.
Quickly he found the hall that led toward the stairs, and entered the gloomy, dark stairwell. He started downward, downward, around the winding metal staircase, heading for the dungeons where he had left the girl.
There was a sound as of distant thunder coming from below. Someone running up the stairs, Hendrin wondered? He paused, listening.
The noise grew louder. Yes. Someone was coming.
Cautiously he stepped back into the shadows of the landing, and peered downward waiting to see who was coming.
He could see, on the winding levels below, the figure—the figure of an Earthman. By Hargo, he thought. It’s the one who tried to buy the girl from me—Archman! What’s he doing here?
Then the Mercurian thought: He’s shifty. Perhaps I can use him.
He ducked back into the shadows and waited. A moment later Archman, breathless, came racing up the stairs. Hendrin let him round the bend, then stepped out of the darkness and seized the Earthman firmly.
Lon Archman stiffened tensely as the unknown attacker’s arms tightened about his chest. He struggled to free his hands, to get at the zam-gun, but it was impossible. The assailant held his arms pinioned in an unbreakable hold.
He squirmed and kicked backward; his foot encountered a hard surface.
A deep voice said, “Hold still, Archman! I don’t mean to hurt you.”
“Who are you?”
“Hendrin. The Mercurian. Where are you heading?”
“None of your business,” Archman said. “Let go of me.”
To his surprise, the blue alien said, “All right.” Archman found himself free. He stepped away and turned, one hand on his zam-gun.
The Mercurian was making no attempt at an attack. “I want to talk to you,” Hendrin said.
“Talk away,” Archman snapped.
“Where are you coming from? What are you doing in the palace, anyway?”
“I’m coming from the dungeons, where I was tossed by some of Darrien’s tunnel guards. I’m escaping. Understand that? And as soon as I’m through telling you this, I’m going to blast a hole in you so you don’t carry the word back to your master Darrien.”
Surprise and shock were evident on the Mercurian’s face.“Escaping? From Darrien?”
“Yes.”
“Strange. From our brief meeting I thought you were loyal. Who are you, Archman?”
“That doesn’t much concern you.” He gestured impatiently with the zam-gun, but he was reluctant to blast the Mercurian down. It seemed that the blue man was concealing something that could be important.
There was a curious expression on the Mercurian’s hard-shelled face, as well. Archman looked warily around; no one was in sight. He wondered just how loyal to Darrien the Mercurian was…and if Hendrin could be used to further his own ends.
“I’ve just been talking to that girl you brought in here,” he said. “What’s she doing in the dungeons? I thought you were going to sell her to Darrien.”
“I did. Darrien’s mistress Meryola had a fit of jealousy and ordered the girl killed, while Darrien’s back was turned.”
“I see!” Archman now understood a number of things. “All’s not well between Darrien and his mistress, then?” He grinned. “And you’re the cause of the trouble, I’ll bet.”
“Exactly,” said the Mercurian. “You say the girl’s still in the dungeons alive?”
Archman nodded. “For the time being. She’s locked in, but the jailer’s dead. I killed him when I escaped.”
“Hmm. I’m in a funny fix—Darrien wants me to get the girl back for him, or else he’ll kill me—but if I return the girl Meryola kills me. It’s a tight squeeze for me.”
“I’ll say.” Plans were forming rapidly in Archman’s mind. If he could get the girl out of the dungeon, and somehow manipulate her and this Mercurian, who was undeniably in a bad situation—
“Earthman, can I trust you to keep your tongue quiet?” Hendrin asked suddenly.
“Maybe. Maybe not.”
“I’ll have to take my chances then. But you’re a renegade; I’ll assume your highest loyalty isn’t to Darrien but to yourself. Am I right?”
“You could be,” Archman admitted.
“Okay. How would you like to have that girl for yourself, plus half a million credas? It can be arranged, if you’ll play along with me.”
Archman allowed a crafty glint of greediness to shine in his eyes, and said, “You kidding?”
“Mercurians generally play for keeps. I’m telling the truth. Are you interested? The girl, and half a million platinum credas.”
“Who foots the bill?”
There was a long pause. Then Hendrin said, “Krodrang. The Overlord of Mercury. I’m in his pay.”
A tremor of astonishment rocked Archman, nearly throwing him off guard. He mastered himself and said, “I thought you were one of Darrien’s men. What’s this about Krodrang?”