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

camp, the sounds of firing ceased, and Grandon, goaded by horrible fears for Vernia’s safety, fumed and fretted at the inability to make better speed or see through the mists that made about two hundred yards the limit of visibility.

      But when the prow of the little boat grounded on the beach, and leaping out, Grandon discovered the bloody shambles that had been his camp, strewn with the naked bodies of his Traveks his grief and anger knew no bounds.

      “All dead,” he said to Kantar, who stood respectfully beside him. “My noble Traveks slaughtered, and Vernia stolen. Who can have done this horrid deed? And what motive? Reabon is at peace with all nations. The camp was not rich in loot.”

      “There is Zanaloth of Mernerum,” replied Kantar. “You have severed diplomatic relations with him. Perhaps this is his answer.”

      “If Zanaloth has done this,” said Grandon, “he shall have war, and that speedily—such a war as this planet has never seen. I will wipe Mernerum off the face of the globe, nor will Zanaloth live long to gloat over his evil deeds. But it cannot be Zanaloth. The fact that he once affronted the Princess of Reabon when she passed through his country made it imperative that I sever diplomatic relations until full apology had been made. I might have declared war, but did not. Zanaloth should be thankful for this, as the armies of Reabon could crush a dozen Mernerums.”

      Walking among his dead Traveks and sorrowfully murmuring the names of those he recognized, Grandon presently found his mojak.

      “My faithful friend,” he said, sadly. “Huba, comrade of many a battle and bivouac.” He knelt and laid his hand on the blood-smeared brow of the young officer. “Why, his head is warm!” he exclaimed. “Perhaps a spark of life remains! Fetch water and a flask of kova, quickly, Kantar.”

      The gunner sped away to the boat from which he brought back a flask of the aromatic and stimulating kova from the provision basket and a bailing-scoop of sea-water.

      There was a huge gash in the fallen mojak’s scalp, and the entire upper part of his face was covered with blood. With hands as gentle as those of a woman, Grandon bathed away the blood. Then, as the eyelids of his friend flickered, he raised the head and held the flask of kova to the mouth, forcing a small quantity of the liquid between the clenched teeth.

      Huba swallowed convulsively, opened his eyes, and looked at Grandon with dull wonder in his gaze.

      “You, Majesty!” he said weakly. “I thought I had been taken to the bosom of Thorth.”

      “You came near it,” replied Grandon, “but the scarbo cut was a glancing one. Where is my wife?”

      “The cursed Huitsenni attacked the camp,” answered Huba. “My valiant Traveks fought well, but were cut down to the last man. Her Majesty fought with us. When all had been killed around us, she and I fought the greasy yellow horde, back to back. Then I was cut down, and knew no more. What a brave little thing she is!” He sank back, exhausted.

      “Then those yellow fiends have her,” said Grandon. “Their spies have worked swiftly it seems, and they were swift at reprisal. Where have they taken her? How can I follow?”

      “I do not know,” replied Huba, “nor do I believe anyone does, other than the pirates themselves. They raid the coasts or attack merchant or fishing ships, then disappear. As they always attack with immensely superior forces, they are never defeated. They always carry away their own dead and wounded, and take care that none of their victims are left alive to tell of their dastardly work. But a few times, men who have been left for dead have revived, even as I was revived, and thus some description of them and their deeds has, from time to time, reached civilization. Fleets of the great nations have scoured the seas, looking for their ships and their strongholds, but have found neither. Like the winds of heaven, no one knows whence they come or where they go.”

      “I’ll find Vernia if I have to search every inch of this planet,” said Grandon.

      “One thing only I recall, which may be of assistance, Majesty,” said Huba. “Unfortunately I was unable to see the pirates leave, but every intended victim who has ever escaped them has reported that they sail southward.”

      Grandon turned to the mojo of the boat crew.

      “Remove all but two pairs of oars,” he said, “and prepare to push off. I will sail southward. One man, only, will I take with me. Who would be the man?”

      From the wounded Huba to the last of the seamen, all volunteered. After some deliberation, Grandon selected Kantar the Gunner as his companion.

      “You will be needed in Reabon,” he told Huba. “Go at once to the capital. Tell Vordeen to mobilize the army and double the coast guard and the guard on the Mernerum border. Tell him, also, to divide our war fleet into such sized squadrons as he deems advisable and assign patrol zones to each squadron so that no part of the Azpok Ocean nor any of its shore line will be left unsearched. Have these patrol fleets search every ship encountered, except those of Tyrhana, Adonijar and Olba. Farewell.”

      The seamen echoed Huba’s cry of: “Farewell, Majesty,” as Grandon leaped into the boat and seized the tiller. Kantar, already at the oars, struck out savagely as soon as the men who shoved them off had got beyond their depth, and a little later, the two raised the sail and tacked into the breeze, which had grown considerably stronger. The fog, too, was rising so that visibility became almost normal.

      For most of the morning they zig-zagged southward; but presently the wind veered around, eliminating the necessity for tacking, and greatly accelerating their progress.

      At noon each took a turn at the tiller, while the other ate his frugal lunch of dried mushrooms and smoked frella meat washed down with drafts of kova.

      Kantar had just finished his lunch, and was closing the watertight container when with an exclamation of surprise, he suddenly leaned over the gunwale and scooped something from the surface of the water with his hand. It was an empty half of a spore pod, red inside and black outside.

      “What have you there?” asked Grandon.

      “A kerra pod,” replied the gunner.

      “And what, pray, is that?”

      “The kerra, Majesty,” replied the gunner, “is chewed almost universally by the toothless yellow pirates. Where there are kerra spore pods, one may be sure the Huitsenni have been. It is said that they are never willingly without a supply of this habit-forming narcotic, which they constantly mumble except when eating or sleeping. I think from the finding of this kerra pod, that we are on the right trail—that the Huitsenni have passed this way not so long ago.”

      “And do you think there is a possibility of our overtaking them today?”

      “I believe, Sire, that there is. This little boat is one of the fleetest on the Azpok—and much swifter than the large ships of war used by the pirates in their raids. They had not long been away from camp when we arrived, so I look for their appearance on the horizon some time this afternoon if they consistently follow their southward course.”

      That afternoon, Grandon constantly strained his eyes toward the south, but saw only such marine monsters of the Azpok as rose to the top from time to time, or flew above the surface. There was a great variety of web-winged reptiles of diverse shapes and colors, some as small as sea-gulls, and other kinds and species up to the enormous ormf, whose wingspread was fully fifty feet from tip to tip, and whose great, saw-toothed beak with a pelican-like pouch beneath it was large enough to take in a full-grown man at a single snap. There was also a great profusion of large, white birds with hooked bills and red-tipped wings which, like the flying reptiles, dipped to the surface of the water from time to time for their prey, or dived beneath it, emerging therefrom with squirming, wriggling fish or other marine inhabitants in their beaks.

      One huge ormf circled above the little craft for several hours, and Kantar prepared to use his mattork in case of attack. But the monster evidently decided that the creatures in the boat were too dangerous for it to assail, and soared lazily away.

      Although they did not sight the