CHAPTER VII
_The White God_
Bram Forest returned to consciousness and realized the black nausea ofhis previous moments had vanished. All traces of the sickness weregone as he opened his eyes, his mind intent upon the small flatpackage that had dropped from the box in which he had found thestrange disc-like instrument. But the package was not within reach.
This caused only a small part of his bewilderment however. Hisattention was riveted mainly upon the tableaux being enacted beforehim. A group of people, almost as naked as himself, deeply browned ofskin, stood huddled nearby.
Almost as though for the entertainment of these, two grim anduniformed warriors were facing each other on the level turf before thestrange circular ground-entrance beside which Bram Forest foundhimself.
The two warriors possessed strange supple swords which theymanipulated with much skill. At least, one of the warriors did. Theother seemed clumsy in comparison but there was no hint of cowardicein his manner.
Upon closer inspection the two warriors who had seemed of a cut atfirst glance were quite dissimilar. The one of greater skill was darkand possessed of a cruel mouth and venomous dark eyes. The other wasslim and fair with contemptuous blue eyes. He fought with an erectstiffness in his shoulders which was both awkward and dignified at thesame time.
The sympathy of Bram Forest went out instinctively to the fair one butthe dark, sinister swordsman held his attention. There was somethingnaggingly familiar about the dark one's cruel face. A tantalizingfamiliarity that bemused Bram Forest even as the singing swordsthrust and parried with that of the dark warrior always on theoffensive and the other fighter striving more for self-preservationthan for aggressiveness.
Where, Bram Forest wondered, had he seen the dark one before? Nowhere,of course. Any previous contact was impossible. Or was it? Dared he,Bram Forest, call anything impossible after what had already occurred?
Bram Forest glanced down and realized he had been removing the discfrom his left wrist and placing it on his right. He had committed theact instinctively, in the same manner he breathed and moved and hismind went back momentarily to the two tubes he had found in his earswhen he awoke in the cavern back on Earth.
Back on Earth? How did he know he was not still on that planet? I'vegot to stop questioning these things I possess knowledge of but knownot why. I must take them at face value and without wonder. OtherwiseI shall spend all my years in conflict with my own mind.
At that moment, the dark warrior's whip-sword whined in a skillful arcand entered the body of the fair one. A moan of sympathy arose fromthe waiting group as the defeated warrior sank to the ground, his facestrained in agony and fast becoming a death-mask.
The dark warrior stepped back, a cruel sneer of satisfaction gleamingin his eyes. Bram Forest, sickened by the unequal contest rose up fromwhere he lay and moved forward. This drew the attention of both thegroup and the victorious warrior and the effect was electric.
The huddled observers reacted with a mixture of consternation, awe,and fear that would have been comic under less tense circumstances.They dropped as one to their knees. They placed their foreheads uponthe ground. A concerted moan escaped them that far transcended indepth and feeling the one with which they had reacted to the death ofthe fair warrior.
* * * * *
In a language Bram Forest was completely familiar with, their voicessounded a chant of fear and awe. "The white god has come! The whitegod has come! The white god has come!"
Bram Forest scarcely considered them. He was advancing upon the darkwarrior with the clean, stalking movements of a tiger, his greatshoulders low, his magnificent legs tense for the death spring.
The dark one was frozen from surprise. From whence had this nakedwhite creature erupted? He stood stiff from sudden fear anduncertainty a moment too long and the hands of the avenger were uponhim. The fingers of those hands were like steel talons driving deepinto his throat and in his panicked mind he looked upon the face ofdeath and found it horrible. He was being driven down to the ground,lower and lower in abject submission by this strange and terriblemanifestation the brown-skinned ones had called a white god.
The dark warrior's mind raced and in his terrorized desperation anative cunning sprang to his aid. Using every ounce of his remainingstrength, he forced words up from his tortured throat. "Would you killan unarmed man?"
The words touched a responsive chord in Bram Forest's mind. The cravenspoke aptly. By killing him thus, was not Bram Forest doing the samething for which he had condemned the other?
Bram Forest straightened and hurled the cringing figure from him."Then defend yourself, swine!" he cried and seized up the deadwarrior's shining whip sword.
The dark one sought means of escape but he feared turning from thisavenger as much as facing him. He could only play for time.
Rising, he retrieved his own sword and faced the other with hisexpression of fear not one whit abated. The man of the steel handswhipped the sword experimentally and the dark one was struck by a rayof hope. The other's actions with the blade were as clumsy as had beenthose of Jlomec the Nadian. Perhaps all was not lost.
* * * * *
The dark one gripped his blade and moved forward in the customarycrouch of the Tarthan fighting man. Then elation welled up within himas the answering posture of the other revealed him as knowing nothingwhatever of the whip-sword's use. The dark one's smile returned. Godor not, the skill of this one with the ancient weapon of Tarth waseven less than that of the pathetic Jlomec.
The dark warrior parried a clumsy thrust with ease and whipped hisblade around to harass the other's exposed back. "You are a fool!" hesaid, "whatever else you may be. As you die, give thought to the factthat you join a large company. Those who have faced the greatestswordsman of Tarth and fallen ignobly before his blade."
With that the dark one whipped his blade home and spun his adversaryexpertly in order to discover the exact point of entrance of theblade. His aim was true.
It was just a trifle low but the other fell heavily and the darkwarrior withdrew his blade and wiped it uneasily. His nervousnesssprang from fear. If one of these so-called gods had appeared, why nottwo, or four, or a dozen? The Tarthan swordsman, well up on theprinciples of discretion, felt a sudden urge to be quit of thislocality.
It was indeed a disconcerting place. Brown folk, the identity andorigin of which he knew not. A white creature with steel handsappearing from nowhere. What would the next manifestation be?
The dark warrior moved swiftly toward his waiting stad. He mounted androde away and not until the figures about the well were tiny spotsalmost beyond range of his vision, did he again breathe easily.