“We will see,” said Tarzan, and crossed to the door.
A moment sufficed to force it open, revealing a narrow corridor beyond. One after another the five crawled through the small aperture and following the corridor ascended an acclivity, lighting their way with candles taken from the den of the carnivora. At the top a door opened into a wide corridor, a short distance down which stood a warrior, evidently on guard before a door.
Janzara looked through the tiny crack that Tarzan had opened the door and saw the corridor and the man. “Good!” she exclaimed. “It is my own corridor and the warrior is on guard before my door. I know him well. Through me he has escaped payment of his taxes for the past thirty moons. He would die for me. Come! we have nothing to fear,” and stepping boldly into the corridor she approached the sentry, the others following behind her.
Until he recognized her there was danger that the fellow would raise an alarm, but the moment he saw who it was he was as wax in her hands.
“You are blind,” she told him.
“If the Princess Janzara wishes it,” he replied.
She told him what she wished—five diadets and some heavy, warriors’ wraps. He eyed those who were with her, and evidently recognized Zoanthrohago and guessed who the two other men were.
“Not only shall I be blind for my princess,” he said; “but tomorrow I shall be dead for her.”
“Fetch six diadets, then,” said the princess.
Then she turned toward Komodoflorensal. “You are Prince Royal of Trohanadalmakus?” she asked.
“I am,” he replied.
“And if we show you the way to liberty you will not enslave us?”
“I shall take you to the city as my own slaves and then liberate you,” he replied.
“It is something that has seldom if ever been done,” she mused; “not in the memory of living man in Veltopismakus. I wonder if your sire will permit it.”
“The thing is not without precedent,” replied Komodoflorensal. “It has been done but rarely, yet it has been done. I think you may feel assured of a friendly welcome at the court of Adendrohahkis, where the wisdom of Zoanthrohago will not go unappreciated or unrewarded.”
It was a long time before the warrior returned with the diadets. His face was covered with perspiration and his hands with blood.
“I had to fight for them,” he said, “and we shall have to fight to use them if we do not hurry. Here, Prince, I brought you weapons,” and he handed a sword and dagger to Zoanthrohago.
They mounted quickly. It was Tarzan’s first experience upon one of the wiry, active, little mounts of the Minunians; but he found the saddle well designed and the diadet easily controlled.
“They will be following me from the King’s Corridor,” explained Oratharc, the warrior who had fetched the diadets. “It would be best, then, to leave by one of the others.”
“Trohanadalmakus is east of Veltopismakus,” said Zoanthrohago, “and if we leave by the Women’s Corridor with two slaves from Trohanadalmakus they will assume that we are going there; but if we leave by another corridor they will not be sure and if they lose even a little time in starting the pursuit it will give us just that much of an advantage. If we go straight toward Trohanadalmakus we shall almost certainly be overtaken as the swiftest of diadets will be used in our pursuit. Our only hope lies in deceiving them as to our route or destination, and to accomplish this I believe that we should leave either by the Warriors’ Corridor or the Slaves’ Corridor, cross the hills north of the city, circle far out to the north and east, not turning south until we are well past Trohanadalmakus. In this way we can approach that city from the east while our pursuers are patrolling the country west of Trohanadalmakus to Veltopismakus.”
“Let us leave by the Warriors’ Corridor then,” suggested Janzara.
“The trees and shrubbery will conceal us while we pass around to the north of the city,” said Komodoflorensal.
“We should leave at once,” urged Oratharc.
“Go first then, with the princess,” said Zoanthrohago, “for there is a possibility that the guard at the entrance will let her pass with her party. We will muffle ourselves well with our warriors’ cloaks. Come, lead the way!”
With Janzara and Oratharc ahead and the others following closely they moved at a steady trot along the circular corridor toward the Warriors’ Corridor, and it was not until they had turned into the latter that any sign of pursuit developed. Even then, though they heard the voices of men behind them, they hesitated to break into a faster gait lest they arouse the suspicions of the warriors in the guard room which they must pass near the mouth of the corridor.
Never had the Warriors’ Corridor seemed so long to any of the Veltopismakusians in the party as it did this night; never had they so wished to race their diadets as now; but they held their mounts to an even pace that would never have suggested to the most suspicious that here were six people seeking escape, most of them from death.
They had come almost to the exit when they were aware that the pursuit had turned into the Warriors’ Corridor behind them and that their pursuers were advancing at a rapid gait.
Janzara and Oratharc drew up beside the sentry at the mouth of the corridor as he stepped out to bar their progress.
“The Princess Janzara!” announced Oratharc. “Aside for the Princess Janzara!”
The princess threw back the hood of the warrior’s cloak she wore, revealing her features, well known to every warrior in the Royal Dome—and well feared. The fellow hesitated.
“Aside, man!” cried the princess, “or I ride you down.”
A great shout arose behind them. Warriors on swiftly galloping diadets leaped along the corridor toward them. The warriors were shouting something, the sense of which was hidden by the noise; but
