"I have told you," said Croft, "that those things I did were done by Zitu's grace. But I have not explained my full meaning. That I had reserved for another time, and for your ears alone. Yet I swear now by Zitu and Ga and Azil that I meant in my heart to tell you all things before I claimed you as my wife—make all things plain."
"Then—" Once more Naia's figure stiffened. One hand crept up and lay pressed in above her heart. "Abbu said truth—your spirit is not Jasor's, but another's?"
"Yes," said Croft, dully refusing further evasion, "Abbu said the truth. Yet not all the truth, and Zud overshot the mark in his interpretation." He paused.
For the figure before him had risen, stretching upward on the balls of its rosy feet, lifting its arms in a high-flung gesture with fingers outstretched, extending, as it seemed, in every line of its slender, rounded length, with head back-tilted until its golden hair hung half-way down its tapering thighs in a shimmering cascade, its face raised, its lips parted, its eyes half closed. So sudden was the change that the girl's form seemed to have flung itself into that strange posture of abandonment to woe, as a stricken creature leaps in its death throes when struck by the hunter's shaft. And as Croft broke off, arrested by that tragic and yet still beautiful pose, a scream came out from the round, soft pillar of Naia of Aphur's throat.
"Zitu! Ga! Befriend me!"
All life went out of her glorious body. It sank down, seemed to shrink, to bend and sway before him like a tempest-riven reed.
Croft caught it as it fell and lifted it in his arms—lifted it and held it, the dearest burden they had ever known—held it and bent above it with sick despair in his heart, despair for her whom he held, whose pliant glory now lay impotently unconscious, upborne, saved from the injury of its fall by his strong and reverent hands—despair for her and for himself—for them both—victims of Zud's curious meddling in their affairs.
Zud! He ground his teeth together. He was not done with Tamarizia's high priest. Zud—or another—or ten thousand others—must pay for this. Something like a sob caught in his throat as he gazed at the down-dropped lids above those pansy-purple eyes in which Zud's interference had waked the look of horror they had held before they closed.
The sound of a muffled groan escaped his lips. How different was this meeting from the one he had planned as taking place. Then, too, he had thought to hold her in his arms, but that she would lie there willing, gladly, responsive in her inmost being to his presence, not like this. And suddenly moved again by a strange impulse, because Zitu or God—what mattered it as to name, since, by any name whatever, there was for life but one source?—he lifted that splendid form and held it stretched prone and motionless before him, extended face uppermost across his powerful arms. And—
"Ga befriend her. Zitu befriend me. Azil have compassion upon us both!" he cried before he laid her on the couch of wine-red wood.
For a long moment after he had straightened, he stood gazing down upon her. The sun streaming into the room through the glass of an embrasure struck out the golden design of the wings and cross upon his breast. It sparkled, shimmered, as it rose and fell with his breathing. But it was no more golden, no more shimmering than the flood of golden hair about Naia of Aphur's head. Nor was Croft's robe more blue in its jewel-wrought folds than the limpid eyes beneath her fallen, long-lashed lids.
Of a sudden Croft's own eyes fired with purpose. He drew a sharp, deep breath. Naia of Aphur was his no longer. But—as Mouthpiece of Zitu—all men must obey his mandates; there would be no exception; not even the high priest himself, and—if he were to be cheated of the major object for which he had labored, to attain which he had finally broken the last bond between himself and earth—then let all men beware. He turned away to go in search of Zud.
And, now, despite all these things, despite the scene in the room of the Gayana, the shock of surprise attendant upon his waking—the first startled comprehension of what had happened wearing off ever so slightly, Croft's future course became to him more clear.
Since the commanding part remained to him yet, it was his to command, not to question or advise. He stalked across the sunlighted vastness of the region of the Gayanas where the chatter of the maidens sank to silence as he passed, bade the vestal who had taken him to Naia send some of the women to attend her and passed through the silver door.
Stern of lip, utterly composed in outward seeming once more, giving no outward sign of the tempest of black despair, of heart-sick and baffled yearning which raged within him, he made his way down three of the angling flights of the pyramid stairs and flung back into its masonry sockets the high priest's door.
Never perhaps in the history of the nation has so unceremonious an entrance of those chambers in the sacred structure been made. Yet Croft had deliberately planned on the effect and a quiver of satisfaction filled him, as Zud, seated at a table of the wine-red wood so much used for furnishings in Tamarizia, refreshing himself with some cakes of beaten grain and wine, and fruit, glanced up sharply with an expression of surprised resentment and then started to his feet.
"Sit, man of Zitu," he directed bruskly, and watched the high priest comply as he himself advanced and occupied a richly upholstered couch close to where Zud sat. Then as the priest dipped his hands into a crystal bowl of water and dried them on a square of cloth reserved for the purpose, he went on. "It were well to consider the form of this proclamation concerning the Mouthpiece of Zitu, I think."
Zud eyed him. Plainly the high priest was ill at ease. Croft's whole manner had altered strangely since he had left him at the door of the Gayana, and he must have sensed it. The thing was in his intonation, the settled lines of his face, his eyes. "I—give ear, lord," he began, after a momentary pause. "What suggestions are there—"
"Suggestions?" The Mouthpiece of Zitu caught the last word from his mouth. "Think you that I shall offer suggestions, priest of Zitu? Does Zitu suggest when he speaks?"
"Nay." Zud's expression grew troubled. "Hold not my words against me, lord. I seek not thy displeasure. Yours is the speaking, mine it is to—obey."
"That is well," said Croft in a milder voice. "Listen then, Zud. It is my will that neither you, nor the brothers of the priesthood, nor any other man in Tamarizia, bend the knee to me again. Render unto Zitu that obeisance as heretofore—to Ga and Azil—not to me. Those things are of the spirit, Zud, not of the flesh. In Tamarizia after fourteen days men walk equal in Zitu's sight. Let thy word go forth to this effect."
A tremor shook the high priest's hand as he stretched it forth. "I hear and obey, O lord; yet was it to thy spirit the knee was bent, not to Jasor of Nodhur's flesh."
"My spirit is what Zitu by his grace has made it," Croft returned. "What I am lies between me and Zitu himself."
"Yet how then shall the Mouthpiece of Zitu be proclaimed?" Zud quavered. Suddenly, despite his priestly trappings, the sumptuous quarters in which he sat, he seemed no more than a shaken old man.
"It is of that I would give you counsel," Croft replied. "Were I minded I could forbid this proclamation altogether, Zud, and compel you to hang your head, admitting that you had meddled to bring about those things Zitu had not ordained. Think you he needs any man's assistance in working out his plan? Yet because I have watched closely since I awakened, and find your act inspired by no evil intent, but by lack of understanding, because to discredit your words were to strike not only thee, but at the very foundation itself of each man's belief, I am minded to let what you have decreed take place.
"You shall proclaim me thus. Not as a spirit, but as a man, a teacher, one to whom Zitu permits certain things to be known; one by whom the welfare of the nation is considered, through whom shall be given to Tamarizia's people much for their own good; through whom those things Zitu permits for them shall be transmitted to them, and in so much Zitu's mouthpiece still." Abruptly he broke off as a sudden conception seized him. For a time he considered a startlingly daring plan before he spoke again in a tone of musing: "Zud—Zud, if you only knew the truth."
"The truth, O lord!" said the high priest slowly. "Have I not sought it all my life?"
Croft nodded. "Aye, priest of Zitu, I think you have. Wouldst hear the truth of those things Abbu told you from my mouth?"
Zud leaned forward somewhat quickly. For an instant an eager light gleamed in his eyes before they met Croft's steadily watching, and then wavered.
"Lord!" he faltered, "lord!"
Croft told him the tale.
For that was the plan which had filled his mind—to tell it; to narrate to Zud the truth; to explain those things which had been done, and the how of each act so fully as he could inside the other's comprehension, to convince him by word of mouth if he might, or, failing that, to win his consent to a practical test.
While he talked time dragged on, and by degrees Zud relaxed his pose, of something like overborne embarrassment.
His attitude now became that of an amazed and eager attention. His eyes lighted and his breathing quickened, and now and then he moistened his lips with his tongue. By degrees his excitement increased, until he was gripping the arms of his chair and leaning toward Croft, in a posture which seemed no more than physical reflex of his mental determination to miss no single word.
"Thou—thou sayest a man may leave his body at will?" he stammered as Croft paused.
"Yes, if he knows the method of controlling his spirit to affect his object," Croft replied.
"May go to other places while his body remains where he leaves it—and see and know, and return again?" Zud said. His eagerness struck Croft as almost pathetic. It was like that of a child.
"Yes," he repeated again.
"It is hard to believe," said Zud.
"Would you like to have proof?" Croft decided to convince the high priest now and at once.
"Proof?" Zud queried.
"Yes. Would you like to leave this body of yours, Zud of Zitra, under my direction, learn I have spoken the truth?"
His words were followed by a widening of the high priest's eyes. In them waked something like a startled desire, combined with a cautious hesitation. His whole expression was that of one who falters on the brink of the unknown, longing to dare it yet deterred by the very fact that itisthe unknown.
"Thou canst bring that about?" he questioned at length.
"Yes, if you obey me wholly." Croft held him with a steady regard. To him that which he meant to do was no more than play. To cast this old man into a cataleptic sleep by his own consent and project his astral consciousness, whither he willed, was naught for one who by his own volition had spanned the gap of interstellar space. Yet to Zud the venture seemed to appear very vast, and he hesitated yet a moment briefly before:
"My obedience is yours, O lord," he gasped.
"Then," said Croft, summoning all the powers of his trained will to his aid, "fasten thy eyes on me, O man of Zitu, and fix thy mind on sleep, for this leaving of the body begins indeed with a something approaching sleep in its nature. Think therefore of sleep, O Zud—of sleep, of only sleep!"
Fastening his gaze upon him in complete attention, until by degrees his lids, at first wide, began to droop above his eyes, Zud obeyed.
"So then," Croft droned on as he noted the change, "your eyes are closing, Zud; the lids grow heavy; sleep creeps now upon thee; sleep, a deep sleep. Zud, thou art asleep, yet sleeping thou canst hear my voice. Speak I not the truth?"
"Aye"—a muffled murmur from the high priest's mouth.
"And hearing me, Zud, even in your sleep you will render obedience to my words. Hence, listen closely and obey. Do you know where Lakkon and Jadgor and Robur lodge?"
"Aye," quavered the high priest.
"Then shall you go there, Zud, on my command. In the name of Zitu I command you to leave your body—now."
For a moment he gave over speaking and waited while the form of the high priest relaxed and sagged down in the chair of ruddy wood. Then abruptly he resumed:
"Have you obeyed me, Zud?"
"Aye," no more than a whisper from the lips of the body in the chair.
"What do you see?" Croft demanded.
"A strange sight, indeed. My own form, as in a reflecting water-pool, seated with downcast head, as wrapped in sleep."
"'Tis well," Croft spoke in answer and direction. "Await my company, Zud." He threw himself prone upon the couch and freed his own astral shell from Jasor's body by the effort of his will. An instant later he floated midway between the floor and ceiling at Zud's side. Below them, sat and reclined each body. There stood the table, still bearing food for the material body midway between couch and chair. Croft turned to his companion. And now all communication was on the astral plane, without sound, yet by a none less evident diffusion of conscious vibration.
"Thou seest?" he queried with a smile.
"Aye," the answer came to him from Zud's wraith—that strange replica of his earthly form, implacable, invisible to any save Croft's and his own eyes, which hung there between the floor of the apartment and the burnished roof, weaving to and fro, in each intangible current of the air, swaying and billowing, like a wind-stirred effigy in smoke. "Aye, lord, I see, and am filled with amazement."
"Thou seest but the first step as yet," Croft told him. "Come!"
There was an open embrasure in the pyramid wall. Through it Croft willed himself, and seizing the thin arm of the weird form beside him, dragged it along. They shot out and up through a sun-filled air—out and up and up. The pyramid lay beneath them, the snow-white temple of Zitu glinting in dazzling fashion on its top. East, west, north and south Zitra lay spread to their sight, with its houses, its palaces and hovels, the ringing circumference of its mighty walls. Its harbor studded with sails was all asparkle in the sunlight, and beyond that the bosom of the central ocean rose and fell slowly like the breast of a woman asleep.
"Lord! Lord!" Croft sensed that the high priest gasped again in his emotions at least.
"Behold!" Croft returned and swept an arm in the gesture of a circle. "Priest of Zitu, behold! And, now, in which direction do the men I mentioned lodge?"
"In the palace of Tamhys himself, as his guests," Zud replied, and pointed with a spectral arm.
"Will thyself to their presence, even as you were in the flesh. Think only that you desire immediate nearness to them. So shall you come upon them, Zud."
"Aye, lord," Zud knit his astral brows as though in mental effort.
The sunlight vanished in a flash. With it went out the far-flung view of the Tamarizian landscape—the city, the waves of the central sea. Suddenly vast walls appeared on every hand—a tessellated floor inlaid in white and gold and silver, stretched out beneath a roof of silver inlaid beams, supporting frames containing varicolored glass.
This was the interior court of the Zitran palace as Croft knew. It swept past quickly. He had the impression of the balcony surrounding it on all four sides in Tamarizian style, of the supporting arches, of the groups of statuary between them, of the ascending stairways, and then they vanished, too, and he found himself in a smaller apartment, its sliding doorway covered by a scarlet curtain, its floor in part concealed by gorgeous rugs, its windows draped with other scarlet tissues through which the outer light shone redly—a room equipped with couches and chairs and tables, adorned between the doors and windows with frescoes and groups of sculpture done in the customary translucent stone, and supported on pedestals of copper, silver and gold. So much he saw at a glance before he fastened his attention on the figures of three men grouped about a table in front of a scarlet-curtained window in the outer end of the room.
These men he knew, had met and known and conversed with before this in the flesh. Jadgor, of Aphur, heavy set, dark of eyes and complexion, grizzled of hair, his nose high and somewhat bent in the middle, his whole appearance that of a man of driving purpose, sat there now clad in leg-cases, shirt and metal cuirass, with Aphur's rayed sun on his breast. And close beside him on the table reposed his helmet with its nodding scarlet plumes.
Opposite him sat Lakkon, noble of Aphur and adviser to the king, heavy set like his brother-in-law, strong of feature, with iron-gray poll, dressed like to Jadgor in every essential detail, though in a fashion less royal. By the end of the table stood Robur, Jadgor's son, clean-limbed, strong-featured, with well-formed jaw and mouth, about which lurked often a hint of humor, as Croft knew. In a fleeting glance he recognized its absence now. The face of the crown prince was set into almost stubborn lines, its cheeks a trifle flushed.
And even as Croft perceived the attitude and expression of the several occupants of the apartment, Jadgor hit the table with one fist a resounding crash, whose vibration eddied out and set Zud to drunkenly rocking in their whorl close by Croft's side.
"By Zitu, and by Zitu!" He swore a double oath. "I like not this delay in an understanding. Thrice in as many days have we visited the pyramid, and Zud has said he sleeps. Much has he done for Tamarizia, as I shall last deny; nor did he tell us to remain in Zitra at the last. Yet if Zud be right, as he should, being high priest, my brother, Lakkon, finds himself in difficult case."
Lakkon's visage darkened. "Yet was the pledge given of his seeking," he broke out in querulous fashion. "Jadgor knows that Jasor, be he spirit, as Zud saith, or man, sought it of me ere he entered the armored car to lead into the conflict wherein Helmor, of Zollaria, was overthrown. And Jadgor himself did sponsor my words wherein Naia, my daughter, was promised him to wife. Wherefore, she hath permitted his arms, and yielded him her mouth, as none save an unclean woman doth to any save the men of her own family or him to whom she is betrothed."
"Aye," said Jadgor, frowning. "Yet shall a spirit mate with the flesh. Continence is no less a vow of the priesthood than of the Gayana. Were a spirit sent by Zitu to do his work, even though to that end he employs the body of one whom Azil has recalled, is he to be considered as man or priest?"
"Think you Zitu wouldst choose a rebellious spirit for his mouthpiece?" Robur broke in with considerable heat. "Jadgor, my father, who are we to judge?"
"Robur seems minded to attempt it," Jadgor rejoined with a sarcasm he plainly did not wish to conceal.
"Aye." The color deepened in the crown prince's cheeks. "For by Jadgor's command I labored beside this Jasor, of Nodhur, as he then was known, for the better part of a cycle, toward the end of making Tamarizia safe against what Helmor did intend, and in nothing did I find him other save steadfast and just. Man he was in every seeming, save that his knowledge surpassed the knowledge of all other men, and for these sleeps such as holds him now. We became as brothers in our common purpose, whereby Jadgor now bids fair to attain his ends."
Croft's heart warmed swiftly to Robur's defense, though it was no more than from his knowledge of the crown prince he had felt he might expect. As Robur said the bond between them in their year of mutual endeavor in the shops of Himyra and Ladhra, where the motors and rifles used in the war were made, had become exceedingly close. Indeed, so intimate had they grown that he had addressed Robur as "Rob."
They had been as brothers, indeed, and he felt new confidence now, knowing Gaya would reflect the attitude of her husband rather than any one else. And Gaya in the past had been at one time the means of communication between Naia and himself, when Lakkon had felt himself bound by a pledge to Cathur, to discourage Croft's suit. Now, therefore, he waited eagerly to see what response Jadgor might make to his son's final sentence which was no more than an allusion to those plans of mounting the Zitran throne that had held Jadgor's mind when Croft came to Palos first, toward which, by a marriage with Cathur's profligate prince, Naia was to aid.
And that Jadgor sensed the half-veiled rebuke, he saw at once, since the Aphurian's frown but deepened before he spoke. "Man in seeming is he, I admit, yet to Abbu he confessed that he was not Jasor but another. This thing I do not understand, nor doth Zud. Yet were he an agent of Zitu, then were the end of which you speak of Zitu's willing for Tamarizia's good, which, as my son knows, lies nearest Jadgor's heart. Zud, as you know also, I have questioned, and he holds that none save a mortal may know a woman, save only by Zitu's will, as Azil was conceived of Ga."
"Then why question Zitu's will, as expressed by Zitu's Mouthpiece?" said Robur quickly, and paused with a gasp.
"What mean you?" Jadgor half rose from his seat.
"Nay—" Suddenly Robur faltered, he seemed disturbed, abashed. He lowered his eyes. "Nay, my father, I spoke in haste. What says the maiden herself? Did not my uncle speak with her the prior sun?"
"She holds to her promise as she has held since the beginning," Jadgor replied. "She refuses to leave the Gayana until she has speech with the sleeper himself."
"Nor will she leave ever, should Abbu's words and Zud's judgment prove true," Lakkon said with a twitching face. "Virgin is she in all save the love she has given to him she knew as Jasor. Failing its consummation, she becomes Gayana herself."
"Nay, by Zitu!" Robur cried a savage protest. "My father and uncle, of this thing there lies some explanation. He who I, too, knew as Jasor, won not the full love of my cousin for any such sterile fate. Himself, he told me that all he did was by Zitu's grace; and ofallthat he did was not this too a part?"
A part—rather the all—the motive, the object of what he had done, thought Croft, as he once more thrilled to the sturdy, unyielding quality of Robur's partizanship.
Then as Jadgor made no immediate answer, and Lakkon sat with troubled countenance, lost as it appeared in the prospective fate of the daughter whom he loved with an almost adoring devotion, and now saw embrace the life of a vestal as escape from what, by Tamarizian custom, must otherwise amount to a technical disgrace, Robur went on. "Wherefore, as said before, who are we to judge the Hupor Jasor or the Mouthpiece of Zitu, be he what he may, ere he awakes? Like to my cousin, Naia, I would ask him to speak for himself."
Jadgor gave him a glance. "For that waking we have waited many suns."
"Yet, perhaps he wakes even now," Lakkon suggested quickly, his manner that of a man who grasps at straws.
"Aye," said Jadgor, "perhaps. And—since we are met for the purpose, rather than useless discussion, let us seek the pyramid at once. He rose, a commanding figure in his glistening cuirass and moved toward the curtained door.
"Back!" Croft commanded Zud. "Desire the return to thy body."
He suited his own act to the word, and an instant later opened his physical eyes to find Zud sitting tensely erect, regarding him out of staring, startled eyes.
He sat up. "You saw, O Zud," he questioned. "You heard?"
"Aye," said Zud a trifle hoarsely. "This passes understanding."
"Only until understood," Croft told him. "Art any less yourself for having left your flesh?"
Zud dropped his eyes. "Nay, not so," he said at last.
"And had you entered this body upon the couch, rather than that in the chair?" Croft pressed him closely. "Think you, Zud, you would have been any less yourself, any less Zud, the—priest of Zitu, and—aman?"
"Zitu!" Zud breathed sharply. Plainly he caught Croft's drift. "In such a fashion then you have visited other places, even to the stars, and seen strange things, and brought back what you deemed good?"
"Aye," said Croft with a smile. "In the spirit, Zud, you have seen your body lie sleeping, even as in the flesh you have seen my body lie. Yet are you Zud in the spirit or in the flesh; for with each man it is the spirit commands the flesh; that acts, and the spirit, Zud of Zitra, is of Zitu, breathed from his nostrils, into the flesh, to give the body life."
"Man then is a spirit?" Zud began slowly. He seemed shaken, yet in some subtle way exalted, despite the fact that he was pallid to the lips.
"Aye, Zud, priest of Zitu. There were no man else."
A rap fell on the door of the apartment. It slid back, revealing a lay brother in bare feet and cord-belted robe. He advanced, bending before Zud from the waist, his arms extended in the sign of the horizontal cross.
"Jadgor of Aphur, and Lakkon, and Robur, son of Jadgor, await audience with Zud of Zitra," he announced.
"Admit them," Zud glanced at Croft as the brother withdrew. "Thou art as thou hast said, a teacher not only of all men, but of Zitu's priest. I would speak with thee more of this."
For the second time the door slid back. Jadgor, Lakkon, and Robur filed in.
"Greeting, priest of Zitu," Jadgor began, catching sight of the other occupant of the room, and paused briefly before he went on:
"Hai, Hupor, so you are awake again at last."
"As Jadgor sees," said Croft without rising, while Lakkon stared and Robur took a quick step forward, flushed deeply and checked his instinctive motion, as one who hesitates in a decision.
Toward him Croft put out a hand, and as Robur caught it with a sudden gesture, he smiled. "Zud tells me you stand without opposition in Aphur, Rob," he resumed as he gripped the Tamarizian's fingers. "Of such things I am glad."
"It was to inquire of you, we have intruded upon the priest of Zitra," Jadgor spoke again before Robur could do more than return Croft's grip. "Concerning thee a proclamation has gone forth. Mouthpiece of Zitu, thou art acclaimed. How then shall we salute thee in the future?" His tone was haughty, harmonizing with the attitude of mind Croft had sensed in the room in Tamhys's palace. But he paid it the tribute of small notice.
"Salute me," he said almost coldly, "as Zud has ordained."
"Thou art from Zitu then?" Jadgor lost a modicum of his aplomb. Man of action, accustomed to command though he was, yet, like most of his nation, he stood in awe of his nation's god—and Croft's answer gave him pause.
"All men are of Zitu, Jadgor of Aphur," Croft replied, meaning in his response to do the presidential candidate small good.
But as he paused: "Truth is being spoken," Robur cut quickly in. "All men are of Zitu through Azil and Ga, until Zitu himself sends Zilla, with his sucking lips to take his life away."
Once more Croft smiled into the eyes of his friend. "Then gentle Gaya—she is happy at your popularity, Rob?" he inquired as Jadgor stood and stared.
"She waits me at Himyra," Robur returned, inclining his head. "But—there were reasons why I desired more to remain in Zitra until such time as should find you awakened from your sleep."
"Oh, aye—such reasons as Jadgor's doubt, and Lakkon's questions concerning Zud's proclamation." Croft yawned as he spoke. "But Robur forgets not so quickly his friends."
"By Zitu! How say you?" Jadgor broke out in a roar, flicked as it seemed to dare the question by Croft's manner and words. "Are you spirit or man?"
Croft eyed him for what seemed a long time before he answered. "A man—in the way you mean it, O Jadgor—a man as thou art."
"Hai!" In a fashion Jadgor seemed surprised. "Then how the Mouthpiece—" he began.
Croft rose. The cross and the wings of Azil glowed yellow in a ray of sunlight on his breast. His tone was that of a teacher to a child. "Jadgor of Aphur," he spoke with deliberation, each accent falling slowly, "the Mouthpiece is that which speaks from knowledge to him who has less—hence is the teacher a mouthpiece of knowledge to the student. Those things which are difficult to one of little knowledge may appear but simple to the mind of one who understands."
Color crept into Jadgor's dark face. One would have said Croft's speech had lashed his haughty spirit like a whip to a gnuppa's flank. His eyes came up and he measured glances with the man before him. "And," said he a trifle quickly, "as Mouthpiece of Zitu, you claim the greater knowledge for yourself? Perchance it were but a short step in your belief between the greater knowledge and the greater power. But—Tamarizia is not yet within the full grasp of your hand, and Aphur still is Aphur, and with Nodhur and Milidhur, strong."
"My father!" Robur's tone was one of consternation. He took a quick step in Jadgor's direction.
"Hold, Rob!" Croft lifted a restraining hand. It came into his mind that the greater power of which Jadgor spoke was after all the main point that was troubling the Aphurian king—that he feared a loss of that prestige even as president, which all his life he had known—was alarmed lest Croft with the backing of the priesthood gain the upper hand, and Zud step into the position of sponsor for the stranger which until now he himself had held with great honor to himself and his son. He let an icy smile grow slowly on his lips. "Aye, Milidhur and Nodhur and Aphur are strong. Aphur's king, through me. Also, is Tamarizia yet an empire. Wherefore the change of government is by Tamhys' decree. Let Jadgor beware lest success and quick attainment of his wishes may turn his head."
"Hai!You would threaten!" Jadgor exclaimed, drawing himself up to his full height.
"Hold!" commanded Zud, breaking in for the first time. "Jadgor of Himyra, you forget yourself, and the obedience all men owe to Zitu—and the victory granted Tamarizia by his grace. What is the strength of Aphur or Nodhur or Milidhur, to his designs? And think you that any or all of those states will follow you against the word of Zitu's priest?"
"Or," Croft caught up the subject, well pleased by Zud's stand in the matter, "think you that I who gave the strength of which you boast, have not greater strength to give, or should the need arise to use against that already given? If so, ask Zud, who has seen somewhat of my plans."
But Jadgor was stubborn, and years of authority had made it hard for one of his type to yield. "Strength you may have," he retorted shortly, "yet where shall it be produced in time to avail against Aphur's strength? And if not in time, where produced at all, were Tamarizia still an empire with Jadgor on the throne?" His eyes flashed sharply and he laid a hand on the gem-studded hilt of his sword.
"Hold!" cried Zud once more, while Robur paled and Lakkon drew instinctively back from his king. "Thy words approach treason, Jadgor, should they come to Tamhys's ears. As priest of Zitu I command you to yield obedience to the Mouthpiece of Zitu—to aid, not oppose his intent."
Jadgor was heated beyond all cool judgment. He flung back his head. "Mouthpiece of Zitu—or of Zitemku, the foul one—or man as he himself alleges, Jadgor yields authority to no one!" he roared.
"Nor hesitated to offer his sister's child to a profligate prince, turned traitor to his land in order to increase it," said Croft as the Aphurian paused.
"The point is well taken," Jadgor returned, breathing deeply inside his metal cuirass, "since the maid was almost asked by the Mouthpiece of Zitu himself as a price."
"No," Croft denied with a greater show of emotion than he had exhibited as yet. "I asked but your consent and that of her father to win her for my wife if I could."
"He speaks truth, my father," Robur declared. "And—I myself know that Naia, my cousin, loved Jasor of Nodhur as no other."
"Jasor," Lakkon spoke for the first time. "But Naia herself has told me that Abbu of Scira said—"
"That Jasor's spirit was drawn from his lips by Zilla," Jadgor interrupted. "How say you, Robur—think you your cousin desires marriage with a body whose spirit has fled?"
"No," said Croft, speaking before Robur could find any answer. "Naia of Aphur is free from any claim of mine, save as she herself decides when she learns the truth."
"Thou hast—seen her?" Lakkon faltered, his face beginning to work.
"Yes—and told her the truth as I meant to tell it to her, save that Abbu spoke to Zud in the time of my sleep and Zud spoke to the maid without a full understanding of all the truth embraced."
"The truth—what is it? Is it true that your spirit is not Jasor's?" Jadgor once more broke forth.
"Aye—my spirit is not Jasor's," Croft returned. "To Zud I have explained it. Yet is my spirit the spirit of a man born of a woman as any other though not on Palos nor into Jasor's flesh."
"Zitu!" Jadgor was plainly startled. "Can a man's spirit forsake his body and enter another, and yet possess mortal life?"
"Aye," said Zud, whose single experience, as Croft had meant, seemed to have filled him with complete conviction. "I myself have left my flesh and returned into it again, so that while I was absent it lay sleeping. Zitu has granted this to me through his Mouthpiece, that I might more fully understand."
"Thou?" Jadgor eyed him, as though in doubt as to how to take his words.
"I, Jadgor, yes," Zud said. "In the spirit was I present in the palace of Tamhys when you spoke with Lakkon and Robur concerning this same thing, and Robur defended his friend as since coming here he has done. And though I was not seen of you, yet heard I what was said. Hence I believe that the spirit of Zitu hath sent to guide us to a greater knowledge is, as he himself says, the spirit of a man of earth."
"Earth?" Jadgor frowned at the unaccustomed word.
"Aye—a world ruled over by a different sun than ours," Zud rejoined.
"Jasor—since that is the name by which I have known you, and learned to love you," Robur began again, "is this the truth?"
"Yes, Robur my brother, Zud speaks truly," Croft replied.
"You came from—earth?" The crown prince stammered slightly over the planet's name.
"Yes, Robur—I came from earth."
Robur nodded. "I remember now that Sinon of Milidhur mentioned the fact that his son's appearance since his illness had changed, along with his bearing and his knowledge. Jadgor, my father, I believe this truth. Friend of the Crown Prince of Aphur, what was your name on earth?"
"Jason," said Croft.
"Zitu! 'tis well-nigh the same."
"Yes," Croft regarded the crown prince, smiling. "And—Robur my friend, it is the spirit which molds the flesh. Hence Jasor's body, after I possessed it, altered in its appearance to some extent. Think back, Prince of Aphur; seems it the same to you now, as in those days when by you it was first known, or has it undergone some still further change?"
"It has changed," Robur replied quickly, his eyes lighting. "Now by Azil himself, I begin to comprehend your meaning, Jason, if I may call you by that name."
"Call me as you will, Rob," Croft returned. "Since I know you are my friend."
Lakkon plucked at Jadgor's arm. "I—would see my daughter, O Jadgor," he said in a lowered voice. "Since she has seen this Jason, I would speak to her of many things."
"Shortly," Jadgor replied. "Say to her that so soon as Jason is proclaimed Mouthpiece of Zitu, we return to Himyra—"
"But should she desire to remain with the Gayana," Lakkon interrupted.
"By Zitu!" Jadgor gave him a frowning glance. "I speak to you and to her through you as her king. Surely I hold place above the children of Aphur yet. Are there not Gayana in Himyra's pyramid as well as here should she decide to give herself to Ga? Repeat to her my words and see that she obeys. Or—hold! I will see the maid myself." He turned back to Croft and Zud. "These things I confess I do not understand, and in truth to me they pass all understanding. Man of Zitu, yet is it clear to my mind that an understanding lies between this other and yourself. Wherefore I must ponder the matter well, and seek to determine whether the palace or the pyramid of Zitra shall rule Tamarizia in the future. To thee for the present, Zud—peace. Be pleased to direct that the maiden Naia be brought to an audience chamber for speech with her father and herking."
"Jadgor's request is granted." Zud lifted a small hammer from the table and struck against a metal gong.
The door slid back and a lay brother appeared.
Zud spoke to him, directing him to lead Jadgor and Lakkon to an apartment, and command Naia's presence there.
"Peace to you, Zud," Jadgor said again as he turned away.
"And to thee peace," responded Zitu's priest.
"Rob," Croft arrested Aphur's prince as he moved to follow his father, "are you party to this interview with your cousin?"
"No." Robur paused. "I return now to the palace."
Croft nodded. "Presently then. Come now. I would speak with you alone."
For all his controlled demeanor, Croft was none the less disturbed as, leaving Zud, he led Jadgor's son to the room in which for two weeks his body had lain entranced. Jadgor's stand he could understand well enough, as well as his veiled taunt that were it to come to a test of strength between them, Croft might not be able to arm the rest of the nation against Milidhur, Nodhur, and Aphur, for the simple reason that before he would create anything with which to resist the weapons he himself had placed in the hands of Jadgor's men and his allies, he must create shops. Those plants he had thus far brought into being were in Nodhur and Aphur alone—one at Himyra, Jadgor's city, and the other at Ladhra, capital of Nodhur, where lived Sinon and Mellia, the parents of Jasor whose body Croft had made his own—that Sinon and Mellia, whom Jadgor had raised from the merchant caste to the nobility because of the wonders worked by their supposed son.
Nor did Croft like the thought that because of him or anything he had done, Tamarizia should by any chance be torn by internal conflict, or his plans for a republic be overthrown. And yet in Jadgor's words he had read a hint of civil war between the south and western states and the rest of the nation, where Jadgor declined to accept any authority higher than his own. As he had said to the man not half an hour before, the easy victory over Helmor of Zollaria and the acclaim resulting to himself as nominal commander of the Tamarizian army, seemed to have gone to Jadgor's head. And in addition he appeared to feel sincerely that through Croft a possible disgrace had been brought upon his family through Naia, and therefore upon himself.
Also Jadgor had thrown out an intimation that with enough power behind him he would be minded to curtail Croft's activities in so far as he could, once he were on the Zitran throne. Nor did Croft doubt that even were a civil war avoided, Jadgor would be elected president of the republic if let alone. Aphur would vote for him, as would Nodhur unless very quick action was taken. Milidhur could be counted on for support since Robur's wife was the daughter of that state's present king. Cathur, freed from the treason which had weakened it once, would surely favor Jadgor, who had saved it from being overrun and meeting Mazhur's fate of fifty years before. Mazhur might be expected to support the man who had freed her from the slavery she had endured for fifty years. Bithur and Hiranur alone, then were not sure. Of the two, Hiranur would almost certainly support Tammon, the emperor's son, and Bithur might well be expected to split his vote, with the odds on Jadgor again, because of that boasted strength Croft's labors in Aphur had brought—a strength Bithur might feel needed in defense, since Mazzer adjoined her entire eastern frontier and Zollaria, beaten but not crushed, yet threatened dangerously on the north.
All in all he felt that in what he did and said he would tread on delicate ground, as he saw Robur seated and approached the golden casket Zud had opened to inspect the drawings it contained.
But he said nothing of what was seething in his brain as he took out the plans and carried them back to spread them out before Robur's eyes on his couch.
One of them was for a dynamo, water-driven, and nothing else. There were many streams in Tamarizia's mountains, and he had planned to harness their power for the generation of electric force. This then he took up first.
"Look, Rob," he began as he held it before his companion's eyes. "Can you remember a night in Himyra when Jadgor named me Hupor, and I said the scene would have been more brilliant were light obtained from many lamps of glass inside which a luminous filament glowed?"
"Aye, I remember it well." Robur inclined his head. His face was serious and he seemed ill at ease, as well as somewhat surprised that Croft had turned to the plans rather than taking up a discussion of other things.
But Croft had a purpose in so doing; a hope that by showing Robur the things he planned to accomplish, he might reach Jadgor's ear in a less direct, though no less effective fashion, since doubtless Robur would speak concerning them to the king. "This," he said when assured that the prince recalled his former remark, "is a device to provide such light, and many other things."
For an hour thereafter he talked, displaying plan after plan, each one of which he explained, until at the end, Robur's face was flushed with excitement, his eyes glowing in anticipation of beholding undreamed of things.
"Jasor or Jason," he exclaimed at length. "Mouthpiece of Zitu must you be indeed to devise such objects, to have knowledge of them—to draw their designs."
"No—" Croft considered swiftly. Robur was husband to Gaya, and Gaya had stood his friend in his effort to win Naia before. He decided to tell Robur the literal truth. "No, Robur—these things are not mine own. Of Zitu they are—by him permitted for man's use—yet are they things known, and employed daily in the life of men on that star from which I come."
"Earth," said Robur quickly. "These things are known on earth, and the motors, the rifles—"
"Yes," Croft nodded slightly. "And a thousand other things." He took up a final plan. "Rob, what do you think of a device which can lift a man into the air, as a bird rises on its wings?"
"Zitu! Would you fly, Jason of earth!" Robur caught a slightly unsteady breath.
"Aye," Croft spread out the parchment. He had drawn it in a moment of daring impulse, and now he explained to Robur how it was driven by a "motur"—the name he had given to his engines, modified to fit Tamarizian speech, and the action of the planes.
For a time Jadgor's son sat seemingly lost in a silent contemplation of this to him most wonderful fruit of his companion's hand and brain. And then he flung up his head and looked him full in the eyes. "Jason, tell me the truth, in Zitu's name!" he burst into an impassioned query. "Why came you from earth to Palos—what strange force led you to seek life with us?"
And Croft answered that heart-sincere appeal without visible hesitation. "The strongest force in all the sum of Zitu's forces, Robur—that force which men call—love."
"Love?" repeated Robur, staring. "Of a woman, you mean?"
"Of a woman, yes," said Croft, returning his regard directly. "You know well the maid."
"Naia, by Zitu!" Robur sprang to his feet. "You have dared all for her?"
"All," said Croft. "Listen Rob, my true friend to whom I may open my heart: To Palos and Tamarizia I came first, seeking knowledge, having learned how a man may leave his body in the spirit, even as I have proved a man may. Yet knew I not why I chose Palos, until I came to Himyra and saw Naia of Aphur first. But having seen her even in the spirit, I loved her, as a man may love but one woman, in either the spirit or flesh; and because of that love—because to me she meant all and more than any other thing in life, and because I possessed the knowledge and the power, I dared death itself in taking Jasor's body when he laid it down, in order that I might save her from the marriage to Cathur, Jadgor planned, and win her for myself. Jadgor's son knows the rest."
"Aye," Robur said. "And he knows that were the truth understood by Jadgor he would command the maid to your arms, and make sure that these strange instruments, the designs of which you have shown me, should be made in the Himyra and Ladhra shops."
"Hold!" exclaimed Jason. "Stop—once have I saved Naia of Aphur from paying the score of Jadgor's ambitions, nor will I permit it again. If the maiden comes to me at all, Rob, it must be of her own choice—from her own wish, not by the command of Jadgor or another, as my willing mate—not as a price."
Robur nodded. "Hai, Jason!" he cried. "Now can I understand you, and find you the man I have felt you in my heart." He approached Croft, seized his hand and placed it on his shoulder, laid his own on that of his companion in the posture of greeting used by Tamarizian friends. So for a moment the two men stood eye to eye before Robur went on: "Thy love is a true love—of the heart as well as of the body. Claim me thy friend in this, O Jason—I and Gaya, the woman I won in similar fashion, though I journeyed no farther than to Milidhur to find her. You have seen the maid since your awakening. Tell me; said you to her so much?"
"Yes," Croft told him, "save that she came to me willingly—herself she was free."
"And what said Naia my cousin? O Jason, my heart goes out to you as ever since we have known each other. Robur may find a way to assist a friend."
Once more Croft felt his whole being warm to Aphur's prince. "'Tis the matter of Jasor's body and Jason's spirit, that disturbs her," he explained. "Concerning that I meant to tell her, as only I could tell it, so that she might understand. That would I have done at a time of my own selecting before she became my wife, save that Abbu of Scira to whom I confessed that my spirit was not Jasor's but one which meant to Tamarizia only good—Abbu, whom I swore to silence in Zitu's name, was by Zud absolved from his oath and spoke. And Zud gaining part of the truth only, yet carried what he had learned to Naia's ears. Zud, startled by what he had learned, named me to her a spirit sent by Zitu. Naia looks upon herself as one deceived, well-nigh betrayed."
"But," said Robur quickly, "when you told her of yourself—"
"Nay," Croft replied. "Naia of Aphur is not one to weep, nor ask for explanations."
Robur nodded in comprehension of all Croft's words implied. "So that she knows not as yet of this love that drew you from another world to win her, even as with us a man might go from one kingdom to another. Yet to me it seems that a maid might marvel at a love so great."
Croft's eyes lighted at the suggestion. "As I had hoped she would when I told it in the way I meant to tell it, Rob. See you not that this title proclaimed by Zud is something thrust upon me, rather than sought by myself? For though I meant to be to Tamarizia a teacher in many things, and in so far a mouthpiece in very truth, showing to her people those things known to others, but drawn first from Zitu's mind as all things created must be; yet had I no intent, or wish to greatly exalt myself. In Himyra I sought the rank of Hupor merely because it raised me to her caste. And Zud himself will tell you that in proclaiming me to the people, I have forbidden him to name me other than a teacher—more than a man like themselves."
"Hai!" said Robur. "You have done this, Jason! Did Jadgor know, it would change his stand I think. My father's attitude in this matter grieves me. Let me beyourmouthpiece in this to bring understanding to his mind."
Croft considered. In so far as he could see, it could do no possible harm for the Aphurian king to realize that he was seeking no material glory beyond the life with Naia he had planned. That, he felt, was glory enough to pay for all he had done or might do in the future, if it could be attained. He nodded. "Speak, Rob, if you like," he answered. "I am, I confess, more or less disturbed by your father's manner and his words, not for myself so much as for Tamarizia. I would see no split in the nation. I would see her stand proud in her strength, yet guilty of no aggression—ready to defend herself, yet not wishing to attack unless assaulted first, broadening in wisdom and knowledge rather than in lands gained by the conquest of the sword. Speak if you will, Rob, if thereby we may turn Jadgor from what seems to me a dream of personal power, back to that wish for the strength ofallTamarizia, which held place in his heart, when I knew him first."
Robur sighed. "Teacher you may well be called, Jason," he said in a tone of accord with Croft's remarks. "Jadgor's name on every lip has been to Jadgor's spirit like wine to a strong man's flesh—nor do I myself think Zud has any wish to interfere with the affairs of state through proclaiming you Mouthpiece of Zitu, even though my father appears to fear some such thing himself. Wherefore I shall tell him of what you have said, if I may. And of this other matter also I shall speak. In that Naia has yielded you her mouth, has felt your arms about her, who are not of her blood; to Jadgor's mind, there lies a disgrace."
Croft nodded again. "Yet would he have given her to Kyphallos, the play-thing of Zollaria's unclean woman—the master of dancing girls, my friend." His tone grew heavy, as he recalled the inconsistency of Jadgor's course.
"I know—I know," Robur replied. "But that would have been in marriage."
For a moment it was in Croft's mind to retort quickly that the degradation of a loveless union could not be legalized in the sight of Zitu by any words of a priest. But he checked the impulse. "There can be no marriage between Naia and myself until it is brought about by her as well as my wish."
"Failing which she will become Gayana," Robur said and looked full into Jason's eyes.
"Which you do not like yourself," Croft responded, recalling the words Zud and he had heard the man before him speak in the palace room. "Which, should it happen would deprive me of all I have labored in sincere purpose to gain—that which I think Zitu himself is inclined to permit—since he has permitted also that I dwell in the spirit inside Jasor of Nodhur's flesh."
"Aye, by Zitu, I see it!" Robur exclaimed. "Were it said to her, by one to whom she would scarce fail to give ear—then—perhaps she would see it too. Jason—Gaya, my wife, has before this had a hand in this affair of your love. Could she prevail upon my cousin to listen—"
"Rob!" Croft caught an almost quivering breath as he spoke the word. He rose and began a slow pacing of the floor. But presently he paused and once more faced the crown prince.
"At least," he said, "she returns by Jadgor's command to Himyra. Let Gaya speak with her, friend of my heart, to whom my heart is shown, and prevail upon her to remain outside the pyramid until she has taken time to think. Myself, I told her I could explain if the chance were mine. Rob, you and Gaya your wife will do this?"
"Aye," Robur declared, rising also. "Be not cast down in your heart. Inside fourteen suns I shall be governor in Aphur—and I shall see to it that Jadgor understands much which now he does not understand—also, that Naia does not go to the pyramid in Himyra. I shall speak with Magur himself. Speak of this with Zud, Jason. Have him give tablets into my hands to Magur from himself, advising against an immediate action. Then once I am in the palace, Jason, my friend, we shall reopen the Himyra shops, and set the melting furnaces flaring, and make many things for Tamarizia's welfare—even to this machine which flies without moving its wings." His face lighted, and his nostrils flared at the pictures in his brain.
"With you, my brother, and with Zitu it rests, then," Croft said, and the two men struck palms as once on the day of their first meeting they had struck in friendship's pledge.
All Zitra wasen fête. All morning men and women in gala attire, rich and poor and middle class, even the blue men and women of Mazzerian extraction, the serving class of Tamarizia where their parents had been slaves, had been thronging into that immense central square of the island city, whose pavement was a tessellated expanse of rock crystal white and gold.
Always Croft had marveled at the beauty of the imperial capitol since first he saw it. Himyra—the red-walled queen of Aphur, brooding on the banks of the yellow Na, he had thought a dream of Babylonian splendor when first he came to Palos. Himyra he would always love, because it was there he had first seen Naia outside its gates. But Zitra surpassed it in the point of artistic magnificence. Himyra was a city of red and white, of palaces, parks and terraces along the river, studded with shrubs and trees. Zitra was a city of white and silver and crystal and gold—a thing undreamable unless once seen—and even so more like the city of a dream.
About the square, where, on the morning of the third day after Croft had awakened from what he considered his final trip to earth, a huge platform had risen overnight, the populace ranged themselves, close packed. The scene was brilliant in a degree. From the tops of the structures facing the square, built mainly of the predominating white stone used in constructing the city, and even its walls, canopies and streamers of azure blue and scarlet had been stretched as a protection against the sun and its midday heat. They made of the square a temporary auditorium of enormous size, into which the people jostled with a babel of voices, a soft yet vast shuffling of feet. Only at one point was an opening in the billowing covering of the canopies left. There at high noon a ray of the sun would strike through and lie on the platform in the center of the square.
Soldiers of the Imperial Guard, in metal greaves, short-skirted tunics, and breast-plates, armed as in former days, not with rifles, but with short swords, spears, and shields, since this was a formal occasion, were stationed at the end of each street which entered the square, and admitted the crowds in orderly fashion, assigning each arriving group to their proper place in the vast temporary enclosure according to their caste.
By degrees the audience came to seem a thing divided into particolored segments, each composed of the caste for which it had been set aside. There were the blue packed masses of the Mazzerians, with their almost indigo skins scantily covered, a jostling sea of swarming, whispering flesh. There were the laborers in their tawny smocks, their hair cinctured by a golden or copper band, supporting the draped cloth which protected their necks in labor from the sun. And beyond them were the tradesmen with their women, taking on a still more brilliant appearance according to the dictates of taste which had clad them in various shades and colors.
And again, nearest the dais was a rippling band of color marking the noble caste—men and women of station and wealth. And here gorgeous might describe the play of colors, the flash and glint of jewels and costly metals, the stately waving of plumes, the flicker of stalwart limbs, of white arms and snowy breasts and shoulders, the iridescent shimmer of diaphanous gauze scarfs. These were the select of the Zitran population. Each gnuppa-drawn carriage that whirled up to the end of the streets disgorged its recumbent passengers from the couchlike seats on which they reclined as they rode, and then retired.
By degrees the square became utterly packed save for a space about the platform maintained by more of the Imperial Guard, and an alley running toward the mouth of a single street. The hour crept on. Through the canopy the sun blazed dimly. Water-bearers with bottles made from the hide of the tabur—an animal widely raised, with the fleece of a sheep and the general shape of a hog—passed through the square, sprinkling the pavement to cool the air, doubly heated by the outer temperature and the multitude of bodies packed into so close a space. Never had there been a greater concourse or a more brilliant in the history of the state. Indeed, in all the annals of the nation, no more auspicious date would appear.
This day marked what might be regarded as a new era in national affairs. The Zollarian war was done. Tamarizia was stronger than ever before in the memory of man, and a new and more liberal government than any they had known was to be adopted within the next few days. And as though that were not enough, it was common knowledge that Zitu had sent the nation a teacher for their welfare; to greet and acclaim him they were gathered here.
Well might the crowd be in holiday attire and humor. Well, as it waited, might its blended voices rise in a cheerful fashion, a ceaseless diapason of sound, changing as there came a blast of brazen trumpets, and Tamhys appeared in magnificent silver harness, to a cheer.
Silver studded with diamonds were the casings upon his calves; silver was the cuirass upon his breast, whereon in azure-colored stones in the circle enclosing an equilateral cross, sign of Hiranur, was blazoned forth. Silver was his helmet, and white as purity itself his tossing plumes. Even the hair upon his head, mark of his years, was silver, as he came down the alley left open, between his guards, and mounted the dais and seated himself upon a silver chair.
Then from without, as the cheering subsided, there came a sound of harps, and in the mouth of the alley down which Tamhys had passed, the head of a procession appeared.
First came the harpers themselves, white clad, marching in ranks of fours. And back of them appeared a litter borne by the brown-clad lay brothers of the Zitran pyramid. Of burnished copper was the litter, inlaid with a silver filigree, and curtained with fluttering draperies of an azure, silklike fabric. From within it, as it advanced behind the harpers, Zud's old eyes peered.
At the foot of the dais it was placed, and the high priest of Zitu emerged, mounting the steps, while a sudden silence fell across the multitude assembled, a reverend figure in his azure robes with the scarlet cross ansata on his breast. He saluted Tamhys and took a second silver chair, leaving a vacant seat between the emperor and himself.
And now, as the harpers ranged themselves and struck the strings of their instruments in perfect unison, and Zud's litter was swept aside, a second litter appeared.
It was of silver, and its bearers, giant blue men of Mazzer, well-nigh staggered beneath its weight. A sigh, almost a gasp, ran through the assemblage. Zud had been borne by priests, but—the Mouthpiece of Zitu was carried by men—the serving class of the Tamarizian state. Always a people quick to recognize the involved symbolism of an occurrence, few of those present failed to understand Jason's intent in the manner of his appearance—that thereby he implied that he came to them, not as a spiritual teacher, but as a teacher of men.
And then silence came down once more as the litter was placed before the steps of the dais and Zitu's Mouthpiece appeared, and the harps died, and the figure in its azure draperies, whereon flared both the cross and the wings of Azil, mounted slowly to that vacant seat between Tamhys and Zud, the high priest.
The crowd jostled, straining forward to see the better, and then settled themselves once more to attention as Zud rose.
He lifted a hand, commanding silence. In his other hand he carried a long silver stave topped with the looped cross. He began speaking at once in the simple fashion which characterized most of the Tamarizian ceremonials:
"Men and women of Zitra and of all Tamarizia, give ear to Zud the high priest's voice, through which it is given to announce to you one who comes among you as teacher, endowed with a wisdom passing the knowledge of Zud or any other among you, by Zitu's grace.
"Jason, as he is named, cometh to instruct the people on whom Zitu smiles, as a sign that his pleasure is in his people, and shall remain while they are obedient to his laws.
"Mouthpiece of Zitu is Jason, and shall be so known while he shall remain among us, and afterward, when the spirit within his body shall have been withdrawn. Exalted he is by the knowledge which Zitu hath seen fit to instil into his mind. Worthy of honor is he from all true men. Yet is he man as thou art, and to him shall no knee bend. Obedience and respect alone are his due. I, Zud, the high priest, have said it. Let all men regard the Mouthpiece of Zitu as his brother as well as his friend."
As Zud paused a second ripple ran through the crowd, a sibilance of whispers. Croft looked down into the nearest rows of uplifted faces and encountered Jadgor's own.
The Aphurian king sat with arms folded, staring directly toward him, his dark face distorted by a frown. The glances of the two men met and held for the merest instant. Croft's was steady. Jadgor's repellent, a voiceless challenge more than anything else. Croft turned his own glance deliberately away, sensing that in whatever he might attempt in the near future he would meet antagonism from Aphur's king. His eyes fell on Lakkon with his countenance somber, and on Robur, just beyond. The crown prince met his regard fully and shook his head. In the gesture, and the expression of his strong face, there was all the poignancy of a groan. It came over Croft that in whatever he may have said to his father since their conversation three days before, Robur had failed.
But he gave over such considerations as once more the harps rang out. He became aware of a spot of sunlight on the platform directly before the chair whereon he sat—almost, indeed, at his feet. Even as he watched it seemed creeping closer—and the harps were thrumming, thrumming sweetly—and the buzz of the vast assembly was once more falling still.
Suddenly the blended voices of a female chorus rang out, rising and falling in rhythmic fashion in perfect time to the harps. Down the alley came a group of vestals bearing flowers in their hands. Clad all in white were they, save for a cincture of golden tissue that ran about the neck, down between the breasts, and fastened in front like a sash with pendant ends, hanging in a golden fringe to the edge of the knee-length skirt. Their hair fell about their rosy faces and bared left arms and shoulders, wholly unrestrained save for a silver cincture about the head. Singing, they came on with a swing and flash of their bared and tinted feet and dimpled knees.
And as they came there flashed into Croft's mind a recollection of the first ceremonial of the noontide hour of contemplation and prayer he had witnessed, not in Zitra, but in Himyra, the first day he had been on Palos.
In a way this was like it, save that then the vestals had sung and danced before the statue of Zitu himself—the statue of a man with a face divinely firm and strong, with purity and compassion written large in its every line. That figure had been portrayed as seated on a throne. And the rays of the noontide sun had shone through an aperture in the roof upon it, bathing it in pure light. With an inward gasp Croft began to understand—his own position, the nearness of the spot of sunlight before him, the position of the chair in which he sat. Zitu was the God of Tamarizia—and he was Zitu's Mouthpiece—and the sunlight was over his knees now. He felt its warmth.
"Behold the Mouthpiece of Zitu!" Zud's voice.
Croft sensed rather than saw the congregation rising—the vestals deployed to right and left in front of the dais, kneeling, holding their floral sprays toward him in extended hands. He became conscious that the spot of sunlight had moved again, was bathing him from head to foot now in its golden rays, was shimmering from a thousand facets of the jewels that etched the cross and the wings of Azil on his breast.
The Gayana burst into a triumphal song: