It was Dagon, the sea god, as the priest pictured him in his own imagination!
The man went chalk-white. He collapsed on the floor, so paralyzed with fright and amazement that for a moment Ardath feared he had fainted.
"You know me," Ardath said softly.
"Great Master, forgive your servant…"
The priest babbled frantic incoherent prayers that sounded like gibberish.
"Bring the priestess Jansaiya to me," Ardath commanded.
"At once! At once!"
The man backed behind a tapestry and was gone. Ardath lifted ironic eyebrows, for this was altogether too easy. When he felt under his robe for certain weapons he had brought with him from the ship, he nodded. Hypnotism was a ticklish trick. It was undependable, whereas weapons were not.
But the priest returned, leading a veiled, slight, feminine figure. Both bowed to the floor.
Ardath lifted the girl to her feet. He pulled aside the veil, found that no deception had been practiced upon him. This was the priestess, the beautiful Jansaiya…
CHAPTER VI
Unforgettable Land
Wonderfully lovely she was, with elfin, childlike features that somehow held a certain sophistication, and even a suggestion of inherent, latent cruelty. Her hair was bright gold, her eyes sea-green. Though she was tiny as a nereid, her delicately symmetrical figure was not in the least childlike.
She came closer to Ardath. Suddenly he felt a searing pain on his arm and drew away sharply.
"This is no god!" Jansaiya cried, her voice like tinkling silver bells. "Blood flows through his veins. He is human, and an impostor!"
She drew away, a small dagger still clenched in her hand. Ardath glanced wryly at the long scratch on his arm, yet he caught the quick stir of movement.
As though by magic, the temple was full of shaven-headed priests. From behind the tapestried walls they came swiftly, forming a ring about Ardath. Their steel swords glittered no less coldly than their eyes.
"We, too, know something of hypnotism," one of them rasped in contempt. "There are ways of testing even gods."
Ardath thought quickly. His foes were at least two score. Hypnotism would be useless now, but he had other weapons. Under his gown was a projector that would have slain every priest in the temple, if he had cared to use it.
He did not. Ardath's alien philosophy forbade the unnecessary taking of Me. Instead, his hand, hidden in a fold of the toga, moved almost imperceptibly. A tiny crystalline sphere dropped to the green tiles of the floor and Ardath put his sandalled foot over it.
"Do you yield?" the leader of the priests asked.
Ardath smashed the globe with his sole, at the same time holding his breath.
Instantly a colorless, odorless gas diffused through the temple. The priests no longer could move. Frozen statue-like, they stood gripping their weapons and staring blindly straight ahead. The gas had a certain anaesthetic quality which warped their time-sense and slowed down their reactions tremendously. To their slowed vision, it seemed as though Ardath vanished instantaneously when he stepped aside.
Hastily he looked around, still holding his breath. The temple was silent. No new enemy had appeared. Ardath wrenched a sword from a motionless priest and held it lightly in his right hand. He strode quickly to the priestess and lifted her under one arm. Ardath was no giant, but his muscles were steel-strong, and Jansaiya was tiny.
Carrying his light captive, he hurried out of the temple.
The two guards at the gate had not moved. They remained passive as Ardath descended the stairs and went through the outer portal into the street. The sentry there was also motionless and silent.
But behind Ardath rose a clamor and an outcry.
Nowhere could huge Thordred be seen. He had not waited. Perhaps he had been taken prisoner.
Ardath's first step now was to return to the ship. After that, when the Kyrian gathered more resources, Thordred could be rescued. But at that moment there was no time for delay.
Bending low, Ardath ran along the street. The noise of pursuit followed close behind him, abruptly swelling to a thunder of iron hoofs. Down upon the Kyrian rode a horseman in glittering armor, sword lifted in menace. The bearded soldier shouted a searing curse. Out of the temple gates the priests poured.
"Slay him!" they yelled as they raced after Ardath. "Slay him!"
Ardath had no time to employ any weapon but the sword that was bare in his hand. He threw Jansaiya aside, out of danger. Quickly he reversed the blade, gripping it by the point. As the horseman thundered down, he flung the steel like a club.
The street exploded into a blinding blur of action. Ardath dodged aside as ringing hoofs clashed on the pavement. The soldier's sword screamed ominously through the air, but Ardath's missile had found its mark. Its heavy hilt had smashed against the horseman's bare forehead. The man was slumped in his saddle, unconscious. The weight of his sword had completed the slash.
Instantly Ardath was at the reins. He dragged the soldier down and sprang lightly into the saddle. He wheeled the mount. Reaching low over the side, he picked up Jansaiya and gently though swiftly put the limp figure across the saddle before him. The horse reared and charged down the street, scattering yelling priests before its thundering hoofs.
Never before had Ardath ridden a horse, nor even seen one of its kind. But eons ago, in the Miocene Age, he had studied the small, fleet Neohipparion. He instantly recognized the similarity between the modern and the prehistoric desert horse. Animals had never feared nor distrusted Ardath, for he understood them too well. The steed responded to the least touch of his hands and heels. Through the city it raced.
Three times Ardath had to use his sword, but only to disarm. It was not necessary to kill. Suddenly, then, the city was behind him, and he was racing up the slope toward the forest.
It was already late afternoon. The shadows lay long and dark on the sward. Ardath cast a glance behind him, saw that a horde of horsemen were riding hard in pursuit. He shrugged indifferently and looked down at Jansaiya.
Undisturbed, she still slept. He studied her face, realizing that it was lovely beyond imagination, though the perfect lips were somewhat arrogant, a little cruel. With his knowledge to combat those traits, he could make her a fit mate for any superior man.
But what had happened to Thordred? Ardath was beginning to grow worried. He could do nothing till he reached the ship, though.
It was sunset before he did. The titanic sphere rose above the tree-tops as it lay cradled in a clearing. A port was wide open, just as he had left it, but across the gap shimmered a pallid curtain of white radiance.
Ardath reined in, sprang from the saddle. Snatching down Jansaiya in his arms, he called out sharply.
"Thordred!"
Instantly the giant came out of a thicket, his savage face inscrutable.
Follow me," Ardath commanded briefly, and went toward the ship.
As he neared the port, the flickering curtain died. He entered, carrying his burden, and Thordred followed.
Ardath turned when they were all inside. The horse was quietly grazing where he had left it. When he heard the distant sound of shouting, constantly growing louder, Ardath sighed. He put Jansaiya down and closed the port. Seating himself without haste at the control panel, he sent the ship arrowing up from the forest.
The vessel hung in the air, hovering motionless. Ardath turned to Thordred.
"You tried to enter the ship," he said quietly. "I had forbidden that. Why did you try to do so?"
Thordred flushed, trying to evade that piercing though gentle stare.
"I came as far as the temple doors. When I saw the priests capture you, I thought you were helpless. I was unarmed, so I came back to the ship to find some weapon to aid you."