“Many slaves are brought to the city?” asked Tarzan.
“Yes,” she replied.
“And many strangers come from other lands?” he asked.
She shook her head negatively. “Only the Ho-don from the other side of the Valley of Jad-ben-Otho,” she replied, “and they are not strangers.”
“Am I then the first stranger to enter the gates of A-lur?” he asked.
“Can it be,” she parried, “that the son of Jad-ben-Otho need question a poor ignorant mortal like O-lo-a?”
“As I told you before,” replied Tarzan, “Jad-ben-Otho alone is all-knowing.”
“Then if he wished you to know this thing,” retorted O-lo-a quickly, “you would know it.”
Inwardly the ape-man smiled that this little heathen’s astuteness should beat him at his own game, yet in a measure her evasion of the question might be an answer to it. “There have been other strangers here then recently?” he persisted.
“I cannot tell you what I do not know,” she replied. “Always is the palace of Ko-tan filled with rumors, but how much fact and how much fancy how may a woman of the palace know?”
“There has been such a rumor then?” he asked.
“It was only rumor that reached the Forbidden Garden,” she replied.
“It described, perhaps, a woman of another race?” As he put the question and awaited her answer he thought that his heart ceased to beat, so grave to him was the issue at stake.
The girl hesitated before replying, and then. “No,” she said, “I cannot speak of this thing, for if it be of sufficient importance to elicit the interest of the gods then indeed would I be subject to the wrath of my father should I discuss it.”
“In the name of Jad-ben-Otho I command you to speak,” said Tarzan. “In the name of Jad-ben-Otho in whose hands lies the fate of Ta-den!”
The girl paled. “Have mercy!” she cried, “and for the sake of Ta-den I will tell you all that I know.”
“Tell what?” demanded a stern voice from the shrubbery behind them. The three turned to see the figure of Ko-tan emerging from the foliage. An angry scowl distorted his kingly features but at sight of Tarzan it gave place to an expression of surprise not unmixed with fear. “Dor-ul-Otho!” he exclaimed, “I did not know that it was you,” and then, raising his head and squaring his shoulders he said, “but there are places where even the son of the Great God may not walk and this, the Forbidden Garden of Ko-tan, is one.”
It was a challenge but despite the king’s bold front there was a note of apology in it, indicating that in his superstitious mind there flourished the inherent fear of man for his Maker. “Come, Dor-ul-Otho,” he continued, “I do not know all this foolish child has said to you but whatever you would know Ko-tan, the king, will tell you. O-lo-a, go to your quarters immediately,” and he pointed with stern finger toward the opposite end of the garden.
The princess, followed by Pan-at-lee, turned at once and left them.
“We will go this way,” said Ko-tan and preceding, led Tarzan in another direction. Close to that part of the wall which they approached Tarzan perceived a grotto in the miniature cliff into the interior of which Ko-tan led him, and down a rocky stairway to a gloomy corridor the opposite end of which opened into the palace proper. Two armed warriors stood at this entrance to the Forbidden Garden, evidencing how jealously were the sacred precincts of the place guarded.
In silence Ko-tan led the way back to his own quarters in the palace. A large chamber just outside the room toward which Ko-tan was leading his guest was filled with chiefs and warriors awaiting the pleasure of their ruler. As the two entered, an aisle was formed for them the length of the chamber, down which they passed in silence.
Close to the farther door and half hidden by the warriors who stood before him was Lu-don, the high priest. Tarzan glimpsed him but briefly but in that short period he was aware of a cunning and malevolent expression upon the cruel countenance that he was subconsciously aware boded him no good, and then with Ko-tan he passed into the adjoining room and the hangings dropped.
At the same moment the hideous headdress of an under priest appeared in the entrance of the outer chamber. Its owner, pausing for a moment, glanced quickly around the interior and then having located him whom he sought moved rapidly in the direction of Lu-don. There was a whispered conversation which was terminated by the high priest.
“Return immediately to the quarters of the princess,” he said, “and see that the slave is sent to me at the temple at once.” The under priest turned and departed upon his mission while Lu-don also left the apartment and directed his footsteps toward the sacred enclosure over which he ruled.
A half-hour later a warrior was ushered into the presence of Ko-tan. “Lu-don, the high priest, desires the presence of Ko-tan, the king, in the temple,” he announced, “and it is his wish that he come alone.”
Ko-tan nodded to indicate that he accepted the command which even the king must obey. “I will return presently, Dor-ul-Otho,” he said to Tarzan, “and in the meantime my warriors and my slaves are yours to command.”
XI
The Sentence of Death
But it was an hour before the king re-entered the apartment and in the meantime the ape-man had occupied himself in examining the carvings upon the walls and the numerous specimens of the handicraft of Pal-ul-donian artisans which combined to impart an atmosphere of richness and luxury to the apartment.
The limestone of the country, close-grained and of marble whiteness yet worked with comparative ease with crude implements, had been wrought by cunning craftsmen into bowls and urns and vases of considerable grace and beauty. Into the carved designs of many of these virgin gold had been hammered, presenting the effect of a rich and magnificent cloisonné. A barbarian himself the art of
