XVII
“Where now?” demanded Komodoflorensal as the two emerged from the mouth of The Slaves’ Corridor and stood for a moment in the brilliant sunlight without.
“Lead the way to the quarry where we were confined and to the chamber in which we slept.”
“You must be weary of your brief liberty,” remarked the Trohanadalmakusian.
“We are returning for Talaskar, as I promised,” Tarzan reminded him.
“I know,” said the Zertolosto, “and I commend your loyalty and valor while deprecating your judgment. It will be impossible to rescue Talaskar. Were it otherwise I should be the first to her assistance; but I know, and she knows, that, for her, escape is beyond hope. We will but succeed in throwing ourselves again into the hands of our masters.”
“Let us hope not,” said Tarzan; “but, if you feel as you say, that our effort is foredoomed to failure and that we shall but be recaptured, do not accompany me. My only real need of you is to guide me to the apartment where Talaskar is confined. If you can direct me to it that is all I ask.”
“Think you I was attempting to evade the danger?” demanded Komodoflorensal. “No! Where you go, I will go. If you are captured I shall be captured. We shall fail, but let us not separate. I am ready to go wherever you go.”
“Good,” commented Tarzan. “Now lead the way to the quarry and use your knowledge of things Minunian and your best wits to gain us entrance without too much talking.”
They passed, unchallenged, along the shaded walks between the domes of Veltopismakus and past the great parade where gorgeously caparisoned warriors were executing intricate evolutions with the nicest precision, and out beyond the domes along well-worn trails filled with toiling slaves and their haughty guards. Here they fell in beside the long column moving in the direction of the quarry in which they had been imprisoned, taking their places in the column of flanking guards, and thus they came to the entrance to the quarry.
Perfunctorily the numbers of the slaves were taken, as they passed in, and entered in a great book; but to Tarzan’s relief he noted that no attention was paid to the guards, who moved along beside their charges and down into the interior without being checked or even counted, and with them went Komodoflorensal, Prince Royal of Trohanadalmakus, and Tarzan of the Apes.
Once inside the quarry and past the guard room the two fell gradually to the rear of the column, so that when it turned into a level above that which they wished to reach they were enabled to detach themselves from it without being noticed. To leave one column was but to join another, for there was no break in them and often there were several moving abreast; but when they reached the thirty-fifth level and entered the tunnel leading to the chamber in which Talaskar was confined they found themselves alone, since there is little or no activity in these corridors leading to slave quarters except early in the morning when the men are led forth to their labors and again at night when they are brought back.
Before the door of the chamber they found a single warrior on guard. He was squatting on the floor of the tunnel leaning against the wall, but at their approach he rose and challenged them.
Komodoflorensal, who was in the lead, approached him and halted. “We have come for the slave girl, Talaskar,” he said.
Tarzan, who was just behind Komodoflorensal, saw a sudden light leap to the eyes of the warrior. Was it recognition?
“Who sent you?” demanded the warrior.
“Her master, Zoanthrohago,” replied the Trohanadalmakusian.
The expression upon the face of the warrior changed to one of cunning.
“Go in and fetch her,” he said, and unbolted the door, swinging it open.
Komodoflorensal dropped upon his hands and knees and crawled through the low aperture, but Tarzan stood where he was.
“Go in!” said the guard to him.
“I will remain where I am,” replied the ape-man. “It will not require two of us to find a single slave girl and fetch her to the corridor.”
For an instant the warrior hesitated, then he closed the door hurriedly and shot the heavy bolts. When he turned toward Tarzan again, who was now alone with him in the corridor, he turned with a naked sword in his hands; but he found Zuanthrol facing him with drawn rapier.
“Surrender!” cried the warrior. “I recognized you both instantly.”
“I thought as much,” said Zuanthrol. “You are clever, with the exception of your eyes—they are fools, for they betray you.”
“But my sword is no fool,” snapped the fellow, as he thrust viciously at the ape-man’s breast.
Lieutenant Paul D’Arnot of the French navy had been recognized as one of the cleverest swordsmen in the service and to his friend Greystoke he had imparted a great measure of his skill during the many hours that the two had whiled away with the foils, and today Tarzan of the Apes breathed a prayer of gratitude to the far-distant friend whose careful training was, after many long years, to serve the ape-man in such good stead, for he soon realized that, though his antagonist was a master at the art of fence, he was not wholly outclassed, and to his skill was added his great strength and his agility.
They had fought for but a minute or two when the Veltopismakusian realized that he was facing no mean antagonist and that he was laboring at a disadvantage in being unable to fall back when Tarzan rushed him, while his foeman had at his back the whole length of the tunnel. He tried then to force Tarzan back, but in this he failed, receiving a thrust in the shoulder for his pains, and then he commenced to call for help and the ape-man realized that he must silence him and that quickly. Awaiting the opportunity that was presently afforded by a feint that evoked a wild lunge, Tarzan
