CHAPTER XXXVI
GAGE OF BATTLE
The chief of the People of the Abyss was seated at his ease ina large stone chair, over which heavy layers of weed-fabric had beenthrown. He was flanked on either side by spearsmen and by drummers,who still held their iron sticks poised above their copper drums withshark-skin heads.
Stern saw at a glance that he was a man well over six feet tall, withwhipcord muscles and a keen, eager, domineering air. Unlike any of theother Folk, his hair (snow-white) was not twisted into a fantasticknot and fastened with gold pins, but hung loose and was cut squareoff at about the level of his shoulders, forming a tremendous, bristlymass that reminded one of a lion's mane.
Across his left temple, and involving his left eye with a ghastlymutilation, ran a long, jagged, bright red scar, that stood outvividly against the milk-white skin. In his hands he held no mace, nosymbol of power; they rested loosely on his powerful knees; and intheir half-crooked fingers, large and long, Stern knew there lay aformidable, an all but irresistible strength.
At sight of the captives--for Beatrice, too, now suddenly appeared,thrust forward through another lane among the Folk--Kamrou's keenlycruel face grew hard. His lips curled with a sneer of scorn and hate.His pinkish eyes glittered with anticipation. Full on his face theflare of the great flame fell; Stern could see every line and wrinkle,and he knew that to beg mercy from this huge barbarian (even though hewould have begged), were a task wholly vain and futile.
He glanced along the circle of expectant faces that ringed the chiefat a distance of some fifteen feet. Surely, thought he, some of themany Folk that he and the girl had saved from butchery, some to whomthey had taught the rudiments of the world's lost arts, would now showpity on them--would stand by them now!
But no; not one face of all that multitude--now that Kamrou hadreturned--evinced other than eager interest to see the end ofeverything. To Stern flashed the thought that here, despite theirseeming half-civilization in the use of metals, fire, dwellings,fabrics and all the rest, dwelt within them a savagery even below thatof the ancient, long-extinct American Indians.
And well he knew that if both he and Beatrice were not to die thedeath this day, only upon themselves they must depend!
Yes, one face showed pity. But only one--the patriarch's.
Stern suddenly caught sight of him, standing in the front rank of thecircled crowd, about twenty feet away to the left, just beyond thegirl. Tears gleamed in the old man's sightless eyes; his lipsquivered; the engineer saw his hands tremble as he twisted the feeble,impotent fingers together in anguish.
And though he could catch no sound in that rising, falling,ever-roaring tumult of the flame, he knew the patriarch, with somevague and distant remnant of the old-time and vanished religion of theworld, was striving to pray.
Stern's eyes met the girl's. Neither could speak, for she, too, wasgagged with a rough band of fabric which cruelly cut her beautiful,her tender mouth. At sight of her humiliation and her pain, the man'sheart leaped hotly; he strained against his bonds till the veinsswelled, and with eyes of terrible rage and hate stared at Kamrou.
But the chief's gaze was now fixed insolently upon Beatrice. She, asshe stood there, stripped even of her revolver and cartridge-belt,hands bound behind her, hair disheveled, had caught his barbarousfancy. And now in his look Stern saw the kindling of a savage passionso ardent, so consuming, that the man's heart turned sick within him.
"Ten thousand times better she should die!" thought he, racked at thethought of what might be. "Oh, God! If I only had my revolver for asingle minute now! One shot for Kamrou--one for Beatrice--and afterthat, nothing would matter; nothing!"
Came a disturbance in the Folk. Heads craned; a murmur of voices rose.
The patriarch, no longer trembling, but with his head held proudly up,both hands outstretched, had stepped into the circle. And now,advancing toward Kamrou, he spoke in quick and eager sentences--hegestured at the engineer, raised his hand on high, bowed and steppedback.
And all at once a wild, harsh, swelling chorus of cries arose; everyface turned toward Stern; the engineer, amazed, knew not what all thismeant, but to the ultimate drop in the arteries he pledged hisfighting-blood to one last, bitter struggle.
Silence again.
Kamrou had not stirred. Still his great hands rested on his knees; buta thin, venomous smile lengthened his lips. He, too, looked at theengineer, who gave the stare back with redoubled hate. Tense grew theexpectation of the Folk.
"What the devil now?" thought Stern, tautening event muscle for theexpected attack.
But attack there came none. Instead the patriarch asked a question ofthose who stood near him; and hands now guided the old man toward theplace where Stern was standing, bound.
"O friend; O son!" exclaimed the old man when he had come close. "Nowhearken! For, verily, this is the only way!
"It is an ancient custom of the Merucaans that any man captive orfree, can ever challenge our chief, whosoever he be, to thedeath-combat. If the chief wins, he remains chief. If he loses, thevictor takes his place. Many hundreds of years, I know not how long,this has been our way. And many terrible combats have been seen hereamong our people.
"Kamrou has said that you must die, the girl must be his prize. Onlyone way remains to save her and yourself--you must struggle withKamrou. I have delivered to him your challenge already. Let fatedecide the issue!"
Everything seemed to whirl before Stern's eyes, and for a moment allgrew black. In his ears sounded a great roaring, louder than the roarof the huge flame. Quick questions flashed through his mind. FightKamrou? But how? A duel with revolvers? Spears? Maces?
He knew not. Only he knew that in whatever way the ancient combatsmust be held he was ready!
"You affirm the challenge I have given in your behalf?" demanded thepatriarch. "If you accept it, nod."
Stern nodded with all the vigor of his terrible rage. Kamrou's eyesnarrowed; his smile grew fixed and hard, but in it Stern perceived theeasy contempt of a bully toward any chance weakling. And through himthrilled a passion of hate such as he had never dreamed in all hislife.
Came a quick word from the patriarch. Somebody was slashing theengineer's bonds. All at once the ropes gave way. Free and unfettered,he stepped forward, stretching his arms, opening and closing hiscramped, numbed hands, out into the ring toward Kamrou, the chief.
Off came the gag. Stern could speak at last.
His first word was to the girl.
"Beatrice!" he called to her, "there's one chance left! I'm to fightthis ruffian here. If I beat him we're free--we own this tribe, bodyand soul! If not--"
He broke off short. Even the possibility was not to be considered.
She looked at him and understood his secret thought. Well the man knewthat Beatrice would die by her own hand before Kamrou should have hisway with her.
The patriarch spoke again.
"My son," said he, "there is but one way for all these combats. It hasbeen so these many centuries. By the smooth edge of the great boilingpit the fights are held. Man against man it is. Verily, you two withonly your hands must fight! He who loses--"
"Goes into the pit?"
The old man nodded.
"There is no other way," he answered. "The new, terrible weapons youcannot use. The arrows, slings and spears are all forbidden by ancientcustom. It is the naked grasp of the hands, the strong muscles of twomen against each other! So we decide our chief!
"I, alas, can help you in nothing. I am powerless, weak, old. Were Ito interfere now and try to change this way, my own body would only goto the pit, and my old bones hang, headless, in the place of captivesand criminals. All lies in your hands, my son!
"All; everything! Our whole future, and the future of the world! Ifyou lose, the wonderful machine will be destroyed and all its metalforged into spears and battle axes. Barbarism will conquer; darknesswill continue, and war, and death. All will be forever lost!
"The last ray of hope, of light, from
the great past of the upperworld, will vanish forever! Your own death, my son, and the fate ofthe girl, will be as nothing beside the terrible catastrophe, if youare beaten.
"For, verily, it will be the death of the world!
"And now, my son, now go to battle--to battle for this woman, foryourself, for us, for the future of our race, for everything!
"Kamrou is ready. The pit is boiling.
"Go now! Fight--and--and--"
His voice was lost in a great tumult of cries, yells, shouts. Spearsbrandished. Came a sound of shields struck with clubs and axes. Thecopper drums again began to throb and clang.
Kamrou had risen from his seat.
Stern knew the supreme moment of his life was at hand.