“I have not seen him, kapok,” Ulthar replied.
Koja’s chitinous casque of a face was devoid of expression, and his enormous compound eyes reflected no expression as he observed the Zanadarian captive, who fidgeted nervously under his solemn scrutiny.
“But he was here at the rail just a few moments before we ascended,” Koja said patiently. “I was aloft, and I remember seeing you stroll over to where he stood, leaning against the rail. Surely, you must have noticed in which direction he went when he quit your company ….”
“I said I saw him not! An end to your questions, kapok!” Ulthar snapped, abruptly.
The huge eyes surveyed the nervous Sky Pirate imperturbably. “Kapok” is a derogatory term sometimes used against the Yathoon insect-men as an insult. It may be translated as “bug.” Koja did not enjoy bearing that term applied to him, but, not being human, his reactions were not those of an ordinary warrior. Indeed, the arthopodes of Thanator do not experience the full range of human emotions, and are popularly thought to have no emotions at all, since their endocrine system is markedly different from that of the other races of the Jungle Moon. This, however, is a fallacy. I had taught Koja the meaning of friendship, and he had found his own way to love, for I believe the stalking, ungainly monstrosity loved me with an unswerving devotion and loyalty rare even in men.
He did not, however, react to the insult, but stood, blinking emotionlessly down at the tense, fidgeting Zanadarian. Perhaps his cool intelligence was pondering the motive behind the other’s nervousness and short temper, or perhaps he was slowly rephrasing the question in his mind. At any rate, with a snarled expletive, the Zanadarian prisoner abruptly turned from the rail and strode rapidly away.
Koja stared after him, pondering the strangeness of his mood and actions. Then he ascended to the control cupola to see if I had gone there, but of course he found me not―for at that moment I was floundering in the beach shallows, exhaustedly struggling to drag myself up onto the shoreline.
Valkar was duty officer at the time, it being his shift. The handsome Ku Thad prince greeted the solemn-faced insectman in a friendly fashion and replied that he had not seen me in some time.
“Jandar is not on duty at present, and may be taking his leisure in his cabin. Why don’t you look there?”
Koja thanked him and turned away. But I was not in my cabin, nor in the galley, nor down in the store chambers, nor in the wheel deck, nor in the poop. I did not seem to be anywhere aboard the Jalathadar!
This, the Yathoon warrior found puzzling in the extreme. But where a human being might have taken alarm at this point, the cool, disciplined mind of the stalking arthopode merely registered the accumulated data and continued patiently in his methodical search, until, sometime later, he had ascertained that I was simply not on board at all.
Having made certain of my absence, however, Koja wasted no time in bringing the matter to the attention of his comrades.
Lukor’s cabin adjoined my own, Koja entered, to find the gallant, silver-haired little swordmaster reclining comfortably on his bunk, sharing his attention equally between a black bottle of well-aged brandy and a volume of salacious anecdotes called The Thousand Diversions of Pellasitir the Inventive. The amiable Ganatolian waved a greeting as the solemn-faced insectoid entered his quarters.
“Hoy, friend Koja! You find me at my leisure, improving my mind with a brief but informative excursions into the less reputable byways of literature and restoring my depleted energies with an excellent bottle of quarra, of a vintage vastly overrated by injudicious connoisseurs, but not without a robust bouquet to recommend it. There is nothing like a wellaged quarra … how does the poet put it? 'The golden nectar of a vanished summer slumbers in the good wine’s honied heart'―is something wrong?”
“Jandar is not on board,” said Koja in flat, emotionless tones, going right to the point as was his usual way. The peppery little Ganatolian, who had been refreshing himself with another swig from the black bottle, as if to test the wisdom of the poet whom he had just quoted, choked on the fiery beverage.
“Ak-kaff! Umph! My jointed friend, whatever are you talking about? Of course our brave and yellow-headed captain is aboard―wherever else could he be, may I ask, and us three thousand feet above the ground?”
“Lukor, he is nowhere on the ship. I have searched the vessel from stem to stern, and he is not to be found. Something untoward has occurred … .”
Lukor tossed his book aside with a muttered curse, corked the brandy bottle, tenderly deposited it beneath his pillow, and sat up on the edge of the bunk, sobering at Koja’s ominous words.
“You suspect foul play, is that it?”
Koja flexed his brow-antennae in the Yathoon equivalent of a human shrug of the shoulders.
“I saw him at the rail while we were taking on fresh supplies of water. Now he is nowhere aboard the galleon. I asked the Zanadarian, Ulthar, which way Jandar had gone, but he professed ignorance on the matter. However, he could hardly have avoided seeing our friend leave, since he was rather near him at the time. It is a puzzle, Lukor.”
Lukor massaged his brow and tugged viciously at his long, carefully tended mustachios.
“Ulthar, is it? I would not trust that Zanadarian any further than I could throw him … and I would be happy to attempt throwing him, if the deck rail was near enough! I warned Jandar he was making a mistake by permitting that treacherous, sly, cunning rascal of a Sky Pirate to voyage with us―but it is always our noble captain’s way to expect the best of others, rather than anticipating the worst from them. Well, if Ulthar has had a hand in this, we shall not find it difficult to pry his tongue loose―I know a little trick with a heated dagger-blade set between the bare toes that will encourage the most close-mouthed man on Thanator to pour forth his autobiography in less time than it takes to heat the blade. But―caution, now―have you thoroughly searched the ship? Our friend may well be gossiping with one of the officers in their several cabins or down in the hold with the men, swapping a bottle and telling tall tales of derring-do ….”
Koja described the itinerary of his search. By the time he had completed his account, the excitable little Ganatolian master-swordsman was alarmed.
“Where is Prince Valkar? In the control cupola, you say? Come, friend Koja, we must bring this to the attention of the ship’s company at once, before we have traveled farther. Jandar may well have fallen overboard.”
“Or been pushed,” said Koja expressionlessly.
Ere long the alarm was given, and anxious men combed every cubicle and closet of the Jalathadar without finding any token of my whereabouts. Summoned before a worried Valkar, our captive Sky Pirate stubbornly maintained that he knew nothing of my whereabouts―which was, I suppose, true enough, for Ulthar could not have known that by this time I had been taken prisoner by the lord Cham of Narouk, and he doubtless assumed or at least hoped that I had drowned beneath the blue waves of the Corund Laj, weighed down by my boots, sword, cloak, and other encumbrances.
No threats of stern measures could dislodge the truth from the smooth-tongued Zanadarian, who eloquently argued his complete ignorance in the matter and his innocence of any wrongdoing.
“Give me a few moments alone with this sky rascal, a dagger blade and a pot of coals from the galley, and I will pry the truth from him!” Lukor demanded. But Valkar reluctantly forbade any such questioning by force.
“We cannot do that, Lukor. We have Captain Ulthar’s word of his innocence, and nothing against him but idle suspicion. Why, even Koja cannot offer us eyewitness proof of wrongdoing! It is entirely possible that Jandar fell overboard, taken off-balance when the Jalathadar lifted, or borne away by a strong gust of wind sometime later on. But to subject a helpless captive, who has given us his parole and his oath of honor not to interfere with the functioning of the ship, would be an act of criminal barbarism. We are, after all, civilized men.”