Part 13

Robert quickly knelt at the emperor’s side to render assistance. But it was clear to him at the first glance that the unfortunate man was done.

With a supreme effort Kharnov raised himself upon his elbow. His lips twitched as he tried to speak. Then suddenly he slumped back lifeless upon the sand.

Having convinced himself that the hapless man was beyond need of aid, Robert looked to his own wounds. The battle line had swept far ahead during their private struggle. He found himself unmolested and unaided.

His cheek was bleeding profusely, but the wound proved to be superficial. The cloth of his coat, too, was wet from a wound in his arm which pained him cruelly. An attempt to remove this garment resulted in a twinge of pain almost unbearable. He swayed faintly, gritting his teeth in an effort to retain his senses.

Once more he tried to take off his coat. His head swam. Then everything went black before his eyes.

22

How long he lay unconscious Robert could not know. When he opened his eyes again, the din of battle had ceased.

He found himself extremely weak, and it was with difficulty that he got to his feet. For several minutes he swayed uncertainly, his knees all but refusing to hold him up. The rare Martian atmosphere seemed like a vacuum. His senses reeled drunkenly.

An ornamented flask, hung at his late adversary’s belt, caught his eye. Uncertainly he stooped and unfastened it. His parched throat seemed afire as he twisted at the flask’s cap with clumsy fingers. As the cap dropped to the sand, he raised the neck to his hot lips and drank.

The fluid in the flask all but choked him as he gulped it down. He recognized it as _gao_, a vicious wine distilled from the peculiar sea-weed growth of the marshy regions. Yet the craving to drink was so strong that he absorbed a generous portion of it before putting down the flask.

So potent was the wine that he instantly felt invigorated. His nausea was gone. He seemed to have taken a new lease upon life.

Discovering that his arm was bleeding profusely, he once more attempted the removal of his coat, this time with success. He ripped his left shirt sleeve to the shoulder. There was a deep gash above his elbow. Deftly he twisted a torn strip of the sleeve below the wound, thereby checking the flow, and bandaged the cut as well as he could. This done, he looked about him curiously.

He was apparently alone upon the battlefield, over which a deathlike quiet, now prevailed. Here and there a tent stood, while the rest were collapsed upon the ground where they had been knocked down during the fierce hand-to-hand struggle that had surged round them. So precipitate had been the retreat of the late emperor’s army that it had not had time to strike its tents in the rear before being swept far back of its original position.

Out on the tent-dotted plain ahead of him Robert suddenly observed another living being. This person, who was perhaps a quarter of a mile distant, was progressing in his direction by a series of curious dashes from one standing tent to another. The sun shone in Robert’s eyes, making it difficult for him to see plainly.

As he squinted painfully, he made out a second figure, beyond the first, seemingly in pursuit and gaining. Determined upon solving this latest riddle, Robert tottered off to intercept the fugitive. His strength seemed to return to him with the use of his legs, for his knees soon steadied.

As they neared each other the fugitive flitted suddenly behind a tent and remained there. Evidently Robert’s presence had been discovered and had startled him. The pursuer came on swiftly, running directly toward the point where his quarry had hidden. He brandished some object resembling a long whip. From time to time he shouted something unintelligible, which Robert could hear but faintly.

His curiosity now thoroughly aroused, Robert himself moved behind a near-by tent in order that he might observe without being observed.

The pursuer came on quickly, but finally stopped as if confused by his quarry’s disappearance. It was plain that he did not know which tent the other had taken refuge behind.

At this moment Robert saw the fugitive dart out into the open again and make directly toward the tent behind which he himself stood. Simultaneously he heard a shout from the other, who in another moment appeared in pursuit. It was at this juncture that Robert suddenly perceived that the fugitive was a woman!

Before he could think further the fugitive dashed round another tent and past his. She halted uncertainly, then, unaware of his presence, darted quickly to his side. Her hand, as she flattened herself quivering against the wall of the tent, touched his. Quick as a flash she wheeled upon him.

Even as her involuntary cry of fear rang out, she recognized him. It was Zola!

The next instant her pursuer panted round the tent’s edge, his evil face distorted with passion.

“You devil,” he hissed, raising a murderous-looking whip to strike her. His hand dropped abruptly as he espied Robert.

Before the Martian could recover from his astonishment, Robert swung at his jaw with every ounce of his remaining strength. His fist landed with crushing force, driving the Martian’s suddenly inert body before it like that of a stuffed dummy. Several yards away it plowed through the sand and lay still. Weeping softly, Zola crept into his arms.

“Oh, my Ro-bert,” she faltered, “I thought--I should--never--see you again.”

As for Robert, he could but hold her hungrily to him.

“You will never--never--let them keep me--from you again?”

“Never, dearest!”

She sighed contentedly. Her arms crept round his neck. She raised her face to his. Her soft, tremulous lips met his tenderly. Then she caught sight of the reddening bandage upon his arm. Instantly all her mothering instinct was alive. She wriggled free from his embrace like a sinuous kitten.

“You have been wounded!”

Robert chuckled.

“But not nearly so badly as our friend, the late emperor,” he said.

“He is----?”

“Dead. He had the misfortune to stop the sharp end of my blade during the skirmish between us.”

He said nothing of poor Taggert’s death. She would be sadly grieved over the jolly little reporter’s brave finish. Time enough when she questioned him, or noticed Taggert’s continued absence.

“You fought him for me, my brave! Ah, I should have died had you fallen!”

He took her in his arms again, while only the sun looked on.

“It was well that he died!” she broke out fiercely, without warning. “He lured me from out of our lines with a forged message which I thought you had written, Ro-bert. I was bound, taken to his tent, and a guard set over me. He made love to me, and laughed when I slapped his face. Then he left, but said he would soon tame me. When the battle turned against him, and his army was finally put to rout, his two guards set upon me. One, I stabbed to death, but _this_” (pointing to the Martian in the sand) “wrested the blade from me. I fled and he pursued me here.”

She shuddered, but went on with her self-appointed task of improving upon Robert’s indifferent bandaging.

“Little dove,” said Robert, irrelevantly--and was fittingly rewarded.

Hand in hand they turned toward the city. Before them lay several miles of sand, much of which was strewn with the bodies of those unfortunates who had fallen in battle. Wearily they picked their way, sadness in their hearts over the thought of the many brave hearts stilled, but, withal, a feeling of wonderful peace in having found each other safe.

* * * * *

An atmosphere of utter desolation hung all about them like an envelope of dread. Here and there a poor, wounded warrior raised himself to call for water or plead for aid. They gathered up some of the full canteens from those fallen, and from them gave relief to a number of thirst-tortured ones on their way. Where she could be of assistance, Zola stopped to apply a bandage, to bathe a fevered brow, to speak a word of comfort, and Robert assisted her.

Thus they had traversed nearly a mile when a commotion off to the southeast attracted their attention. A column of soldiers was marching toward them. The flag of the metropolis waving at its head dispelled their first fears. Robert guessed that it was a part of the right column returning with prisoners from its victorious attack. This conjecture subsequently proved correct.

The column soon overtook them. Room in an officers’ conveyance was quickly and eagerly made for them by its solicitous occupants, and they rolled back through the city gates in short order.

The approach of the victors had already been observed, and the great city fairly bristled with gay flags. Welcoming, hysterical throngs greeted them at the gates with deafening cheers and shouting.

Among the first to greet them were Hakon and Professor Palmer. They arrived astride a pair of fine _lunas_, as the victorious troops were entering the gates. These animals, which resemble our horses, were of a small, precious herd owned by Hakon, they being quite rare.

With a glad cry Zola leaped out of the conveyance and ran toward her father. Likewise he jumped to the ground and ran with pathetic eagerness to meet her. They embraced each other while the soldiers and public looked on in sympathetic understanding. Scarcely one of them but had heard of their princess’ latest abduction with sorrow almost as keen as her father’s, for she was dearly beloved by all.

A lump rose in Robert’s throat as he noted their touching reunion. Could he--should he--pluck this Martian flower from her kin and country, to take her back with him to a strange world? Once more he wondered whether he could hope to make her happy--to make her forget. He feared not, and his heart was heavy with the realization that he must give her up--that an attempt to transplant her would prove a sad failure. Rather than see her pine away in a strange world he would go back alone, even though it broke his own heart. He turned to greet Professor Palmer as that big-hearted and lovable man swung down off his steed and rushed upon him with open arms. Truly, here was such a friend and companion as few men ever were blessed with.

“Lad, lad, it is good to see you again!” And he hugged Robert with such fervor that it was with difficulty he managed to return his greetings and assure him that he was, indeed, quite safe, and delighted to be back.

Hakon was even more effusive in his greeting. Leading his daughter by the hand, he approached Robert almost humbly, albeit with an unconscious dignity--the inevitable bearing of one born to rule.

“You have brought back my greatest treasure to me, sir; and victory, too. Nothing you may ask of me is too great a reward.”

“I but shared in the glorious triumph of your brave men, sire,” Robert answered.

The ruler made an imperious gesture born of habit.

“Enough, sir! We owe everything to you. Ask anything you will, and it is yours.”

Robert was seized with considerable embarrassment. The cynosure of countless worshiping eyes, including a pair of very blue and very trustful ones beside the governor, he wished devoutly that he could escape. His was not a bombastic nature. Naturally of a somewhat retiring disposition, this sudden lionizing temporarily robbed him of coherent speech.

He thought of poor Taggert, who had given his life. There was but one thing that he wanted--and she was denied him. He had definitely determined not to sacrifice her future happiness for his own. Her eyes tempted him sorely. They seemed to reproach him. He realized that she really loved him and hoped that he would ask for her hand. He also felt assured that Hakon would readily consent to his marrying her, if he were to remain upon Mars. But his first duty was to the professor and Taggert. He had been entrusted with a mission by the loyal-hearted reporter as the latter was dying. That mission he would fulfil to the limit of his power.

“If you will persist in a reward, sire, then let it be in _tynir_, the yellow metal which we call gold, and which is so plentiful here but so rare on our planet--or in _rahmobis_, gems of great value among our people, who know them as diamonds.”

“It shall be as you desire,” answered Hakon. “You shall have as much of both as can be carried in the _Sphere_.”

Even as Robert spoke he saw the happiness fade from Zola’s countenance. A look of gentle, pathetic reproach came into her eyes. She looked away as if to hide it from him.

It flashed to Robert’s mind that perhaps, after all, they might not be able to return to the Earth. Would they find the _Sphere_ intact? He thrilled guiltily, realizing that the answer to this question might yet make the princess his.

Slowly the procession threaded its way back through the cheering populace toward the palace. Robert, astride Hakon’s mount, rode beside Professor Palmer, while Zola and her father followed in one of the luxurious motor carriages.

Her strange quiet disturbed her father.

“My daughter is not contented?” he ventured anxiously.

“I am but fatigued,” she replied, forcing a smile.

“Ah, of course you are, my dear. You must place yourself in the care of my physicians immediately upon our arrival at the palace.”

Nevertheless, he hazarded a shrewd guess as to the real cause of her lassitude.

As for Zola, her heart was heavy. Did Robert care more for precious metals and gems than for her? She would gladly have gone to the utmost ends of the universe with him unhesitatingly, with implicit trusting, yet he seemed already to have forgotten his recent avowal of love. He had even avoided her eye guiltily.

23

Ahead, Professor Palmer was listening sadly to Robert’s tale of Taggert’s death.

“Poor lad. We must carry his story back to his paper and the world. He forfeited his life for it. It is little enough.”

“Little enough,” Robert agreed. He thought of the sad message he would bear to the girl who would be waiting for Taggert.

They rode on in silence.

At Robert’s suggestion upon their arrival at the palace, Hakon promptly issued orders for the _Sphere_ to be sought out and brought back. A huge conveyance and two-score men were dispatched for this purpose.

Preparations were already under way for a great feasting to commence that night. An abundance of every kind of food produced by the little planet was prepared by skilled cooks. Every delicacy known to the Martians was procured for the occasion--even meat of the rare _mihida_. The _mihida_ was the only animal still raised for food on Mars, on the pitifully small acreages of available pasturage irrigated from the ducts of precious water. None but the richest could enjoy this one available meat; and even those but occasionally. Many casks of _irel_, an excellent, mildly intoxicating vintage made from a fruit similar to our grape, were iced and tapped in readiness for the approaching festivities.

The great jubilee lasted not one night merely, but all of the next day and night, though Hakon and his immediate party, including Robert and the professor, withdrew with the first dawn.

Robert and Professor Palmer were each awarded a medal cross, highly prized by the Martians as an emblem of supreme valor. Their presentation was attended with much ceremony and a tremendous ovation. Seated between the princess and her father, Robert and the professor were the cynosure of all eyes and the envy of all the noblemen gathered.

The princess and Robert sat side by side, and their eyes were all for each other. Frequently their hands stole into each other’s. Several times Robert caught Hakon watching them covertly, a quizzical smile on his face. What was behind that smiling mask Robert knew not, but he thought he detected a trace of sadness in it.

During the height of the celebration news arrived of the formal recognition of Hakon by the leaders of the dead emperor’s government, as their new emperor. Convinced by the overwhelming, disastrous defeat of Kharnov’s forces, and by the popular demand of the people at large, these leaders were glad to hail Hakon as their new chief and ruler.

It was on the day following their participation in the festivities that Robert was informed of the _Sphere’s_ discovery and safe return. Examination of it, showed it to be unharmed.

Once more Robert wrestled with the stubborn engine which, in spite of the apparent absence of any mechanical defect, persistently refused to start. It finally developed that the petrol line from the tank to the carburetor was clogged with sediment. With this removed, the engine immediately ran as well as ever.

Hakon’s chemists had finally succeeded in refining a considerable quantity of petrol--almost enough to fill the _Sphere’s_ reservoirs completely. The _Sphere_ was in readiness at last for the return to the Barth.

The days following the public acclamation brought many proposals to the new emperor from the first nobles of the land for Zola’s hand in marriage. This news Zola told Robert, and it was evident that she was wondering why he did not speak to her father for himself. The emperor, however, made no secret of the proposals. He even discussed them with Robert. Contrary to the general rule, his gratitude survived his successful acquisition of the throne, and his head remained unturned by the sudden fawning and praise from men who formerly had been his bitterest enemies. In spite of the high rank and the large fortunes of his rivals, it was becoming apparent to Robert that the emperor was inclined to favor a match between him and Zola. But he felt certain that there would be a stipulation in that event that he must not return to the Earth.

As the time decided upon between Robert and the professor for their departure drew closer, Robert decided to have a heart-to-heart talk with Hakon. Accordingly he sought an interview with him at the first opportunity.

He found him in excellent spirits. In fact, so carefree did the new monarch appear, that Robert hesitated to broach the subject; but concluding that it was a case of now or never he put his temerity aside.

Hakon heard him out calmly. It was apparent that he had been expecting this.

“My son,” be said, finally, “this is no surprize to me. The days of my youth are not so distant that I do not recognize the symptoms of love.” He sighed. “I can’t blame you for loving her. She is her mother over again.”

His fine eyes softened as he spoke of his deceased wife. Robert did not presume to interrupt his thoughts. He waited patiently while the emperor sat in silent reminiscence.

Presently Hakon resumed, putting memories from him with a visible effort.

“You are brave, my boy, and deserving of her great love--you see, she has already told me. Duty calls you back to your world, many, many leagues distant. But it is a younger, more luxuriant world. I will not selfishly deny her happiness, though she is my greatest treasure. I would that you could remain with us, but, if you must go, she may go with you if she wishes. Let her decide. I make but one condition; if she can not be happy in your world, bring her back to me if you can.”

“I promise, sire,” said Robert, touched too deeply at the emperor’s sacrifice to say more for the moment.

A soft step caused them both to look up abruptly. Zola stood before them. She had stolen in while they were talking. Her eyes were brimming with misty happiness.

“I heard what you were saying, you dears,” she murmured.

“And your decision, Zola?” Robert faltered.

She pressed a white hand to her breast, swaying like a frail blade of grass.

“I must think--I must think,” she said, faintly.

And she fled from the room.

24

That night brought no sleep to Robert. Torn between compassion for Zola’s father, and fear that he himself would lose her, he tossed about incessantly. When finally dawn came he fell into a sleep of utter mental exhaustion.

When he opened his eyes it was with no recognition in them of anyone or anything. The delirium of fever had laid hold upon him. The severe strain and exertions of the past several days had reduced his vitality, and the mental anguish of the night following his interview with Hakon regarding Zola had proved the last straw.

For three days he remained delirious. During this time Zola nursed him almost constantly. It was with greatest difficulty that she was induced to snatch rest occasionally. And only to Professor Palmer would she relinquish her post.

Hakon came to see Robert twice daily. His own physicians were in continual attendance upon Robert. No effort was spared to bring about his recovery if possible. On the fourth day, with the crisis safely passed, Robert recovered his senses.

His first recognition was of Zola, to her unbounded delight. She was seated at his bedside. During his delirium he had spoken her name many times. At first he feared she might be another vision. He reached out to touch her and reassure himself of her reality, only to sink back weakly. She caught his hand.

“Do you know me now, Robert, darling?” she whispered, with eager tenderness.

Robert pressed her hand happily, nodded, and promptly fell off into peaceful slumber--his first normal rest in many hours.

When he again opened his eyes he was stronger and able to take some nourishment, which Zola fed him. She had not left his bedside since his first return to consciousness early that same morning. By the doctors’ orders she would not permit him to talk. But for lovers there are other means of communication than mere words. Both were infinitely happy.

The effects of Zola’s continued vigil of the past three days and nights were visible in her face. Only at Robert’s insistence, and for fear that he would excite himself into a relapse, did she finally consent to take to her bed for sleep. She slept the entire afternoon and night without waking, and rose feeling greatly refreshed but with bitter reproachment on her lips for those who had permitted her to sleep so long.

By this time Robert, much improved, was allowed to talk. Zola perched herself on the edge of his bed.

“We are to be married as soon as you are up,” she announced, bending and kissing him as he started to splutter some inane reply. The emperor, coming in at the moment, laughed outright and made his exit quickly.

“And I shall see and know that wonderful world of yours,” she continued.

Her calm assertion swept Robert’s last scruples away. In his heart was a song of joy, and his boyish enthusiasm and anticipation ran riot. The thought of transplanting this desert flower from an unlovely, withered planet to his own luxuriant world was a prospect of boundless, delightful possibilities! It would seem a wonderland to her. She would be the happiest and most appreciative girl alive--and his!