“The Myposan war fleet,” said Jantor, “and it’s headed for Japal.”
“Gangor is going to have his hands full,” remarked Kandar.
“We must warn him,” said Jantor.
“But he is your enemy,” expostulated Doran.
“Japal is my country,” replied Jantor. “No matter who is jong there it is my duty to warn him.”
On the way back to Japal, Jantor wrote a message. We dropped down low over the palace grounds, Jantor making the sign of peace by raising his right hand. Almost immediately people commenced to come from the palace, and presently Jantor recognized Gangor and called to him.
“I have an important message for you,” he said, and dropped the weighted note over the side. A warrior caught it before it reached the ground and took it to Gangor.
The fellow read it carefully and then motioned us to come lower, which I did, circling close above them.
“I appreciate your warning, Jantor,” said Gangor when we were within easy earshot. “I wish you would land. We shall need your help and advice in defending the city. I promise that you will not be harmed.”
I looked at Jantor; so did Kandar and Doran. We waited for his curt refusal of the invitation.
“It is my duty,” he said to us. “My country is in danger.”
“Don’t do it,” counselled Kandar. “Gangor is not to be trusted.”
“He would not dare harm me after making that promise,” said Jantor; “too many warriors heard him, and they are not all dishonorable men.”
“All those with him are traitors like himself,” said Doran.
“My duty lies there,” insisted Jantor. “Will you take me down, please?”
“If you insist, I’ll land you outside the city,” I said; “it is your right to risk your life at the hands of a scoundrel like Gangor; but I will not risk my ship and the safety of my mate.”
I circled low above them again, and Kandar exacted a new promise from Gangor that his father would not be harmed and that he would be permitted to leave the city whenever he chose. Gangor agreed volubly—far too volubly, I thought.
“Bring that thing that you fly in right down here in the palace grounds,” he said; “I’ll have them cleared.”
“Never mind,” I said, “I shall land outside the inland gate.”
“Very well,” said Gangor, “and I myself will come out to meet you, Jantor, and escort you into the city.”
“And don’t bring too many warriors with you,” I cautioned him, “and don’t come within trident range of my ship. I shall take off immediately after the jong has disembarked.”
“Bring Kandar and Doran with you, Jantor,” invited Gangor. “They will both be welcome; and I promise again that you shall all be perfectly safe the moment that you step foot within the walls of Japal.”
“I shall feel better now that Doran and I are going along with you,” said Kandar, as we rose and headed for the plain beyond the city.
“You are not going to accompany me,” said Jantor. “You do not trust Gangor. Possibly you are right. If I die, the future of our country lies with you and Doran—the future of our dynasty. You must both live to bring men-children into the world. If all three of us placed ourselves in Gangor’s power simultaneously, the temptation might prove too much for him to resist. I think that I alone shall be safe enough. Neither of you may accompany me.”
“Come now, sir,” exclaimed Kandar, “you must let us go with you.”
“Yes,” said Doran, “you must. We are your sons; what will the people of Japal think of us if we let our father go alone into the hands of his greatest enemy?”
“You shall not accompany me,” said Jantor, with finality. “It is a command,” and that ended the matter.
I set the ship down three or four hundred yards from the inland gate, and presently Gangor came out of the city and approached us with a dozen warriors. They halted at plenty of distance from the ship; and Jantor, who had already dropped to the ground, advanced toward them.
“I wish we had never come here,” said Kandar. “I can’t help but feel that our father has made a grave mistake in trusting Gangor.”
“He seems quite sure that Gangor will live up to his promise,” I said. “You heard him ask me to wait and witness the battle and then come for him when it was over.”
“Yes,” said Doran, “but I don’t share his faith. Gangor has always been notorious for his perfidy, but no one paid much attention to it because he was only captain of a merchant ship at the height of his fortunes. Who could have dreamed that he was to make himself jong of Japal!”
XXI
I couldn’t help but have a great deal of respect for Jantor. He was doing a very courageous, albeit a very temerarious, thing. I watched him as he walked toward his enemies. His step was firm, his head high. He was every inch a jong.
I had taken off immediately he left us, and was circling about rather low. Jantor had approached to within a few steps of Gangor, when the latter suddenly raised his short, heavy spear and plunged it through the jong’s heart.
Kandar and Doran cried out in horror. I opened the throttle and dove straight for the wretch; and as he saw me coming, he and his warriors turned and fled for the city. Low behind them, I turned my pistol on them. Several fell, but Gangor reached the city gate in safety.
Without a word I rose and flew over the city and out across the lake. For some time neither Kandar nor Doran spoke. Their faces were drawn and tense. My heart ached for them. Finally Kandar asked me where I was going.
“I am going to tell the Myposan fleet that Japal has been warned and is ready to annihilate them.”
“Why?” he asked.
“It was your father’s wish to save the city. Some day you will be jong there. Do you want it conquered by the fish-men?”
“You are right,” he said.
It was late in the afternoon that I dropped down low over the leading Myposan galley, the largest of the biremes. They had evidently seen us from a distance, as the deck was crowded with warriors, all staring at us.
“Be careful,” cautioned Kandar. “They are preparing a rock thrower. If they hit us, we’re through.”
I gave the peace sign then, and called down to them that I had a message for their commander. A big fellow whom I recalled having seen in Tyros’ palace answered the peace sign and motioned for me to come closer.
“Tell them to take the rock out of that catapult,” I shouted.
He nodded and gave the necessary order; and after they had unloaded the thing, I dropped down quite low. The anotar is quite maneuverable and can fly at very low speeds; so I had no difficulty in carrying on at least a broken conversation with the ship.
“Who commands the fleet?” I asked.
“Skabra, the vadjong,” he replied.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Yes; the slave who killed Tyros,” he replied.
“I should like to talk with Skabra, if she is not too mad at me,” I said.
The fellow grinned. Their faces are hideous enough in repose; but when they grin, they are something to frighten grown-ups with. Their fish mouths spread across their faces, forcing their gills open. Their countless, sharp fish-like teeth are exposed behind their huge beards.
“Skabra is not angry,” he said.
“Which is her ship?” I asked.
“This,” he said.
“Well, tell her that Carson of Venus wishes to speak to her. Tell her I have very important news for her.”
Just as I finished the sentence the old girl came on deck. God! but she’s the beauty. She looks like a bloated codfish.
“What do you want?” she demanded. “Do you want to murder me, too?”
“No,” I shouted. “You were kind to my mate. I would not harm you. I have important news for you, but I can’t talk this way. Get in a small boat and row off a little way. I’ll come down and land on the water and talk with you.”