The Greatest Works of Otis Adelbert Kline - 18 Books in One Edition. Otis Adelbert Kline

for attempting to save your life, reward him with costly presents, and restore to him all the honor and authority which had been his before his departure. That the Torrogo did not believe his story, however, was evidenced by the fact that his air navy continued to patrol the globe in search of Your Highness.”

      Someone rapped sharply on one of the massive bars of the cell door with the hilt of a weapon. It was one of the guards assigned to patrol the corridor.

      “Less noise in there, prisoners,” he growled, then passed on.

      “I learned more while we were being held in one of the upper rooms after our arrest on the palace roof,” continued Lotar softly. “As you are probably aware, every man who awaited us on the roof was a henchman of Taliboz. Your Imperial father, Highness, died at the hands of an assassin several days ago. The dagger found driven in his back was proved to be that of Arnifek, his prime minister. With Torrogo Hadjez dead and your highness presumably so, there was no successor to the throne and it was necessary for a new Torrogo to be elected by acclamation. Taliboz was thus elected. He immediately had Arnifek, the supposed assassin, executed, made Maribo his prime minister, and Vinzeth captain of the palace guards.”

      “Do you think Arnifek was guilty of the murder?”

      “Of course not. Taliboz—or one of his tools—did it with Arnifek’s dagger. It was part of his plan to get control of the Olban government. Why he has let you live even this long is a mystery to me.”

      “It is no mystery to me,” I answered. “He dropped some hint of his purpose before he sent me from the throne room, for I heard him tell Princess Loralie that my fate should rest in her hands. He will attempt to force Loralie into marriage with him by threatening my life—and have me slain once the marriage is consummated.”

      “You are right, Highness,” said Lotar. “Taliboz plays for even greater stakes—to unite the only air power and the mightiest maritime nation of Zarovia, Olba and Tyrhana, by marriage. Adonijar would probably form an alliance with him because her ruler is married to the princess’s aunt. He would be the wealthiest and most influential monarch on the globe. Nor is there a single nation powerful enough to oppose such a strong alliance—not even Reabon, with her mighty army. Reabon is far across the ocean, and besides, her great warlike Torrogo died recently, leaving his daughter, Vernia, to rule in his stead.”

      “Reabon,” I mused. “The name sounds familiar. Ah, I remember. That is the country to which Grandon went.”

      “Grandon?” he exclaimed, puzzled. “The name has a foreign sound.”

      “An old friend of mine. You would not know him. He is, as you say, a foreigner…Is this Taliboz so popular that the people would gladly make him Torrogo by acclamation?”

      “Far from it, Highness,” replied Lotar, “though he probably persuaded some of them to espouse his cause by convincing them that he had risked his life in an attempt to save yours.”

      “It looks,” I said, “as if it were impossible to escape from here.”

      “I am familiar with these dungeons, Highness, as I served in the palace guard for two years. There is a way to escape—a secret way which I doubt very much whether Taliboz himself knows. But we must first get past yonder barred door and the armed guard in the corridor.”

      “If that is all,” I replied, “I see freedom in the offing. Follow my instructions implicitly, and we’ll soon be out of this.”

      “You have but to command, Highness.”

      “Very well. When next the guard approaches on his rounds, talk very loudly. No doubt he will stop and order you to be silent. When he does this, insult him.”

      “But he will only come in and beat me with the flat of his scarbo, Highness.”

      “Do as I say, Lotar. I will attend to the rest.”

      It was not long before we heard the heavy footfalls of the guard in the corridor. I immediately started a conversation with my companion in a loud voice.

      “Silence!” roared the guard. “The other prisoners want to sleep.”

      “Be on your way, you clumsy lout,” replied Lotar, “and do not in the future forget how to address your superiors.”

      “My superiors! Ho, ho!” jeered the guard. “Very soon will I show you who is superior, a prisoner or his jailer.”

      He took a bunch of keys from his belt pouch and fumbled among them until he found the one that fitted our door.

      “Now see what you have done, Lotar,” I exclaimed, simulating great fear. “You have got us a beating with that noisy tongue of yours.”

      The guard flung open the door, a grin of delight on his features. Such a man would not only welcome any opportunity to torture a fellow creature, but would seek such an opportunity.

      “So, 0 cub of a dead marmelot, you fear a beating,” snarled the guard. “It is well that a weakling such as you can never mount the throne.”

      “Were he on the throne,” Lotar snapped, “hahoes like you would be working in the quarries where they belong!”

      The guard raised his scarbo for a heavy blow at the defenseless Lotar. This gave me the opening for which I had been waiting. With a single bound I was in front of him. Before he could recover from his surprise I planted a crashing right hook on the point of his jaw. He went down like a felled ninepin, nor was a second blow necessary.

      I gave his tork and dagger to Lotar, but retained the scarbo myself. It took us but a few moments to bind and gag the prostrate guard with the straps of his own accouterments. We dragged him back into a corner, closed and locked the cell door, and tiptoed stealthily down the corridor, the young captain in the lead.

      “Let us release your men,” I said.

      “Your Highness’s life is too precious to risk for them. Still, if it is your Highness’s command…

      “It is.”

      Pausing before the first cell door, Lotar peered within.

      “Here are six of them,” he whispered, testing his keys in the lock.

      Looking over his shoulder, I saw six shadowy forms on the floor, and could hear their breathing as they slept.

      When he had found the right key, Lotar opened the door quietly and stepped within. One by one he awakened the sleeping men, cautioning silence.

      We went from cell to cell until we had released forty-five men— all but five of the crew of Lotar’s aerial battleship. He was opening their cell door when we heard the clatter of footsteps, the clank of weapons and the sound of talking. Armed men were approaching by way of a transverse corridor.

      “Quick, into this cell, every man of you,” I ordered.

      Silently our forty-five filed into the cell with the remaining five. When all were inside there was standing room only.

      “Now, Lotar,” I whispered, “let us go to greet our callers.”

      He whipped out his dagger and followed me to the intersection of the two corridors, where we crouched, breathlessly awaiting the approach of the enemy.

      Chapter 14

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      As Lotar and I crouched against the corridor wall in the dungeon beneath the Imperial Palace of Olba we could hear our unseen enemies drawing nearer and nearer in the transverse passage way. How many there were, or how well they were armed, we had no means of knowing. But we were desperate, and had there been an entire company of them we could have done nothing but fight like cornered rats.

      Two guards, fully armed, suddenly rounded the turn facing us. Out came the scarbo of the one nearest me, but before he could use it