Extraterrestrial beings -- Fiction; Life on other planets -- Fiction; Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Science fiction
“Take her away,” said Dar Tarus in a quiet voice, and at that Xaxa fell
foaming to the floor. She shrieked and gasped and then lay still—a
wicked old woman dead of apoplexy. And when Sag Or saw her lying there
he must have been the first to realize that she was dead and that there
was now no one to protect him from the hatreds that are leveled always
at the person of a ruler’s favorite. He looked wildly about for an
instant and then threw himself at the feet of Dar Tarus.
“You promised to protect me!” he cried.
“None shall harm you,” replied Dar Tarus. “Go your way and live in
peace.” Then he turned his eyes upward towards the face of the Great
Tur. “What is thy will, Master?” he cried. “Dar Tarus, thy servant,
awaits thy commands!”
I permitted an impressive silence before I replied.
“Let the priests of Tur, the lesser nobles and a certain number of the
Jeddak’s Guard go forth into the city and spread the word of Tur among
the people that they may know that Tur smiles again upon Phundahl and
that they have a new Jeddak who stands high in the favor of Tur. Let the
higher nobles attend presently in the chambers that were Xaxa’s and do
honor to Valla Dia in whose perfect body their Jeddara once ruled them,
and effect the necessary arrangements for her proper return to Duhor,
her native city. There also will they find two who have served Tur well
and these shall be accorded the hospitality and friendship of every
Phundahlian—Gor Hajus of Toonol and Vad Varo of Jasoom. Go! and when
the last has gone let the temple be darkened. I, Tur, have spoken!”
Valla Dia had gone directly to the apartments of the former Jeddara and
the moment that the lights were extinguished Gor Hajus and I joined her.
She could not wait to hear the outcome of our ruse, and when I assured
her that there had been no hitch the tears came to her eyes for very
joy.
“You have accomplished the impossible, my chieftain,” she murmured, “and
already can I see the hills of Duhor and the towers of my native city.
Ah, Vad Varo, I had not dreamed that life might again hold for me such
happy prospects. I owe you life and more than life.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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