mis-ing him-death! The god he had defied, betrayed-had struck! Kentonread his thoughts as accurately as though they had beenspoken. He shifted grip, half lifted, half swung the priesthigh above the floor and hurled him against a wall. Hestruck; crashed down; lay there twitching.
	Sharane crouched-veils caught up, held fast to. her byrigid hands-on the edge of the ivoried couch. She staredat him, piteously; her wide eyes clung to his, bewildered; deep within her he sensed grapple of awakening willagainst the webs of dream.
	One great throb of love and pity for her pulsed throughhim; in it no passion; to him at that moment she was nomore than child, bewildered, forsaken, piteous.
	"Sharane!" he whispered, and took her in his arms."Sharane-beloved! Beloved-awaken!" He kissed her on the cold lips, the frightened eyes.
	"Kenton!" she murmured. "Kenton!"-and then so lowhe could barely hear- "Ah yes-I remember-you werelord of me-ages-ages-ago!" "Wake, Sharane!" cried Kenton, and again his lips met  and clung to hers. And now her lips warmed and clung to his! "Kenton!" she whispered. "Dear lord-of me!" She drew back, thrust into his arms little fingers thatclutched like ten slow closing fingers of steel; in her eyeshe saw the dream breaking as break the last storm cloudsbefore the sun; in her eyes the dream lightened and dark-ened; lightened-became but cloudy, racing wisps.
	"Beloved!" cried Sharane, and all awake, freed from alldream, threw arms around his neck, pressed lips all aliveto his: "Beloved one! Kenton!" "Sharane! Sharane!" he whispered, the veils of her haircovering him as she drew his face to her cheeks, herthroat, her breast.
	"Oh, where have you been, Kenton?" she sobbed. "Whathave they done to me? And where is the ship-and wherehave they taken me? Yet-what does it matter since youare with me!" "Sharane! Sharane! Beloved!" was all he could say, overand over again, his mouth on hers.
	Hands gripped his throat, strong hands, shutting off hisbreath. Choking, he glared into the mad eyes of the Priestof Bel. Broken, Kenton had thought him-and broken hehad not been! He threw right leg behind the priest's; hurled himselfback against the priest with all his strength. The priest fell,dragging Kenton with him. His hands relaxed just enoughto let Kenton thrust one of his own between the stranglingfingers and his throat. Like a snake the priest slid fromunder him, threw him aside, sprang to his feet. Quick ashe, Kenton leaped up. Before he could draw sword thePriest of Bel was upon him again, one arm around himprisoning his right arm, the other with the elbow fendingoff Kenton's left arm and tearing at his throat.
	Far below, through the drumming of the blood in hisears, Kenton heard the faint throb of another drum,awakening, summoning, menacing-as though it had beena beat of the ziggurat's own heart, alarmed and angry! And far below Gigi, swinging with long apelike armsfrom the grapnel he had cast over the outer stairway's edge,hears it, too; swarms with frantic speed up the rope, and  with the same tremendous speed follow him first Zubranand close behind him the Viking.
	"Alarm!" mutters Sigurd, and draws them under the pro-tection of the skirting wall that they may hear him. "PrayThor that the sentinels have not heard! Swift now!" Hugging the wall, the three climb up and around thesilver terrace of Sin, the Moon God. The lightnings havealmost ceased, but the rain sweeps down in stinging sheetsand the winds roar. The stairway is a rushing torrent halfknee deep. Blackness of the great storms shrouds them.
	Breasting wind and rain, stemming the torrent, theyclimb-the three.
	About Bel's high bower reeled Kenton and the priest,locked tight in each other's arms, each struggling to breakthe other's hold. Around them circled Sharane, the priest'sstolen sword in hand, panting, seeking opening to strike; finding none, so close were the two locked, so swiftly didback of priest, back of lover swirl before her.
	"Shalamu! Shalamu!" the dancer of Bel stood at thegolden curtains-whipped up through the terrors of thesecret shrines by love, remorse, despair! White faced,trembling, she clung to those curtains.
	"Shalamu!" shrilled the dancer. "They come for you!The Priest of Nergal leads." The priest's back was toward her, Kenton facing her.The priest's head was bent forward, straining to sinkteeth in his neck, tear out the arteries; deaf; blind to all-but the lust to kill, his ears were closed to Narada.
	And Narada, seeing Kenton's face in the fitful light ofthe brazier, thought it that of the man she loved.
	Before Sharane could move she had sped across theroom.
	She drove her dagger to the hilt in the back of thePriest of Bell Huddled for shelter in an alcove cut for them in theziggurat's wall, the sentinels of the silver zone feel armsthrust out of the storm. Two fall with necks snapped byGigi's talons, two fall under swift thrusts of Sigurd'ssword, two drop beneath the scimitar of the Persian, inthat niche now lie only six dead men.
	 "Swift! Swift!" Sigurd leads the way past the silver zone.They round the orange zone of Shamash the Sun God.
	Three deaths reach out of the void, and the sentinels ofthe orange zone lie dead behind the hurrying feet of thethree.
	They sense a deeper darkness at their left-the blackwalls of the zone of Nergal, God of the Dead-- "Swift! Swift!" The Priest of Bel slid from Kenton's opening arms; hedropped to his knees; he fell backward, dying eyes staringinto those of the dancer.
	"Narada!" he gasped, through bloody froth, "Narada-you-" The froth turned to a red stream.
	The Priest of Bel was dead.
	One look the dancer gave him, gave Kenton, andknew-- "Shalamu!" she wailed-and wailing flew at Kenton,dagger poised to strike. Before he could draw sword, be-fore he could raise hands to beat her off, even before hecould fall back, she was upon him. Down swept the blade,straight for his heart. He felt the bit of its point-- The point swerved, ripped down through the skin overhis ribs. In that same instant Sharane had sprung, hadcaught the dancer's hand, had wrested the dagger from itand driven it deep into Narada's breast.
	Like a young tree at the ax's last blow the dancer stoodfor a heartbeat, shuddering, then down she dropped, proneupon the priest. She moaned and with the last flare of lifeflung arms around his head and laid lips to his.
	Dead lips now on lips of the dead! They stared at each other-Sharane with red blade inhand, Kenton with red rune on chest written by that blade-they stared down at the Priest of Bel and at Bel's dancer; there was pity in Kenton's eyes; there was no pity inSharane's.
	"She would have killed you!" she whispered, and again; "She would have killed you!" A blinding flash filled the chamber: fast on its heelschaotic shatterings. The lightnings had begun afresh. Ken-ton ran to the doorway; parted, the curtains: listened. Be-low him the House of Bel lay tranquil in its misty aureateglow. He heard nothing-and yet; had there been sound  could he have heard it in the tumult of the thundering's?He saw nothing, heard nothing-and yet--- He sensed that danger was close; stealing up to them: perhaps even now creeping up the zigzags of those stepswhose base was hidden. Torment and death for Sharaneand for him-creeping, stealing, ever closer.
	He ran back to the window. Gigi-Sigurd-Zubran!Where were they? Had they failed to make the outer stair-way? Or were they marching up to him, cutting their waythrough the sentries? Were close? Could they not meet them-Sharane and he? The window was deep. Three feet of masonry stretchedbetween the inner sill and the yard wide, single pane thatclosed it. He drew himself in; saw that the pane was thick,transparent crystal held by a circle of metal, kept shut bylevers thrust into niches within the casement of stone. Oneby one he lifted the levers. The window flew open; hewas half pushed, half washed back into the chamber bythe wind and rain volleying through. He battled forwardagainst them; looked down over the outer sill-- The steps of the great stairway were full forty feetbelow him! Between window and steps fell an almost perpendicularwall, streaming with storm, impossible to descend, equallyas impossible to be scaled.
	He peered on each side and above him.
	The Bower of Bel was a huge cube set on the top ofthe conical temple. The window through which he peeredwas close to the edge of a side of this cube. Not morethan a yard from his right hand was a corner of that cube; for twenty feet to his left its black wall stretched; its topwas twenty feet above him.
	He felt Sharane beside him; knew that she was trying totell him something. Could not hear her in the shriekingof the tempest.
	Set within the breast of a lightning flare the sentinels ofNergal see three silhouettes of doom spring out of theblackness. Swords bite among them. One shrieks and triesto flee. His cry is torn to tatters by the roaring gale; heis caught by long arms, long talons snap his neck; he goeswhirling with the wind over the stairway's wall.
	 And now the red zone's sentries are dead within theirniche.
	And now the three pass by the blue zone of Nabu, theGod of Wisdom and find no guards to challenge them; nor are there sentries before Ishtar's white house, and noneoutside the golden zone of Bel.And here the curving stairway abruptly ends!Now they take counsel there, the three, scanning thesmooth masonry rising above them without break. A wailthat not even the tempest can still shudders past them-the heartbroken wailing of Bel's dancer as she hurls her-self on Kenton.
	"That cry came from there!" Thus Sigurd, pointing out-ward where the window of Bel's bower, hidden to them,faces the lightnings. And now they see that the wall of thegreat stairway merges into the side of the topping structureclose to its corner. But the wall's slope is such that nonemay stand upon it to peer round that comer; nor can onestanding on the highest step see round that corner's edge."Use for your long arms, Gigi," grunts the Viking: "Stand close as you can to stair wall end. Here! Grip meby knees and thrust me outward. My back is strong andI can twist round that corner." Gigi takes him by the knees, lifts him; throws one mus-cle gnarled dwarf leg over the wall for balance; thrustsSigurd out with mighty arms.
	And Sigurd, held against the side by the wind like a leaf,looks straight into the face of Kenton little more than afoot from him! "Wait there!" howls the Viking, and signals Gigi withkick of foot to draw him back.
	"The Wolf!" he tells them. "There-in a window soclose he can draw me through to him! Lift me again,Gigi. When I kick-let me go! Then let Zubran follow bythe same road. Stay you here, Gigi-for without you todraw us back there will be no return. Stay where you arewith arms outstretched, ready to bear in to you whateveryou touch. Quick now!" Again he is swung outward; his wrists are caught inKenton's grip. Gigi loosens him. For an instant he swingsin space and then is drawn up to the sill and over.
	"Zubran comes!" he shouts to Kenton and runs to thedoorway where Sharane stands, sword in hand.
	And now the Persian, held by Gigi's long arms, swings  round the bower's edge, is caught by Kenton; stands be-side him.
	Fanned by the gale rushing through the open windowthe brazier flamed like a torch: the heavy golden curtains were bellying; the little lights along the wall all blown outThe Persian leaned back, found the levers and snappedenough of them to hold the window shut. He gave Ken-ton's hand one swift clasp; looked curiously at the bodies.
	of priest and dancer.
	"Gigi!" cried Kenton. "Is he safe there? Did none fol-low you?" "None," answered the Persian, grimly. "Or if they did -their hands are too shadowy to hold swords, Wolf. Gigiis safe enough. He waits to swing us to him as we crawlfrom the window-all except one of us," he added, under his breath.
	Kenton, thoughts on Gigi, the way to freedom, did nor hear that last odd phrase. He leaped to the door on one-side of which stood watchful Sharane, on the other tenseSigurd. He drew her to him in fierce caress; loosed herand peered through the curtains. Far below him were dullgleamings, reflection from armored caps and coats of mail,glints of swords. A quarter of the way up the angled stairthat led from Bel's House to his Bower they were-sol-diers, moving slowly, cautiously, silently; creeping to sur-prise, as they thought, Bel's priest in dreaming Sharane's arms! There was time, minutes still, for him to put in action the thought swift-born within his brain. He set the goldenhelm of Bel on his head, fastened buckler, threw the scar-let threaded mantle, over his shoulders.
	"Sigurd!" he whispered-"Zubran! Those who comemust believe that here are only Sharane and-that manwho lies there. Else before we could pass the middle ter-race they will have given the alarm, soldiers will be pour-ing up the outer stairway and-we are done! Thereforewhen those below are close upon the door Sharane and I.will leap out on them with swords. They will not try toslay us-only capture us. They will be confused-fallback. Then take Sharane swiftly and pass her out to Gigi.
	We will follow-" "The first part of the plan is good. Wolf," interrupted  the Persian, smoothly. "But not the last. Nay-one mustremain here until the others are safely away from thetemple. Else when they had entered here, quickly will theblack priest's wit tell him what has happened. And therewill be a ring around the place through which a regimentcould not break. Nay-one must remain; stay behind for-a time." "I will stay," said Kenton.
	"Beloved!" whispered Sharane. "You go with me-or Igo not at all!" "Sharane-" began Kenton.
	"Dear lord of mine-" she stayed him, serenely. "Doyou think that ever again I will let you go from me-beparted from you? Never! In life or death-never!" "Nay Wolf-I stay," said the Persian. "Sharane will notgo without you. So that bars you-since go she must. Gigicannot well remain-since he cannot get here to remain.That you will admit? Good! And Sigurd must go to showus the road back, since none but him knows it. Who isleft? Zubran! The gods have spoken. Their argument isunanswerable." "But how will you get away? How find us?" groanedKenton. "You say yourself that without Gigi's help youcannot swing from the window!" "No," answered Zubran. "But I can make me a ropeout of these bed coverings and the hangings. I can slipdown that rope to the steps I glimpsed beneath me. Andone may escape where five could not. I remember theroad through the city and that road we took when wecame out of the trees. Wait you there for me.""They are very close, Kenton!" called Sharane softly.Kenton ran to the doorway. A dozen steps below creptthe soldiers, a score of them, treading noiselessly two bytwo, small shields ready, swords in hands; behind them alittle knot of priests, yellow robed and black robed andamong the black robes-Klaneth.
	Crouched against the wall at Sharane's right was Sigurd,hidden but set for swift guarding of her. The Persiandropped at Kenton's left, pressed close to the wall wherethose who came forward might not see him.
	"Cover the brazier," whispered Kenton. "Put it out.Best have no light behind us." The Persian took it, but he did not touch the cover thatwould have killed the fires within. Instead, he shook it,  covered the flame with embers, set it in a corner wherethe faint glow of the coals could not be seen.
	The feet of the first pair of soldiers were almost or; the top step, their hands reached out to draw aside' thecoverings of the narrow door.
	"Now!" breathed Kenton to Sharane. He tore the cur-tains down. They stood, she in her white robes of priestess,he in the golden panoply of the god, confronting the sol-diers. And they, paralyzed by that unexpected apparition,gaped at the twain.
	Before they could recover from surprise Sharane's bladeflashed, Kenton's sword struck like bolt of thin blue light-ning. Down went the two leaders. Ere the man he hadslain could fall, Kenton had snatched the shield from hisarm, passed it to Sharane; slashed down again at the war-riors behind.
	"For Ishtar!" he heard Sharane cry-and saw her swordbite deep.
	"The woman! The priest! Take them!" came the roar ofKlaneth.
	Down bent Kenton, raised a fallen soldier in his armsand hurled him straight into the pack. The body flailedthem-as though alive! Down they went before it-roll-ing, cursing; down the flight they fell, soldiers and priests,Some there were who crashed into the slender railing, toregaps in it, dropped and plunged like plummets through themists to be broken on the floor of Bel's House so farbelow.
	Back Kenton leaped; caught Sharane in his arms, tossedher to Sigurd.
	"To the window!" he bade. "Give her to Gigi!"  He darted before them; opened the pane. Far away nowthe lightnings glimmered; blackness had given way to dark-est twilight; the rain still hissed in sheets driven by thehowling wind. In that dark twilight he saw the drippingarms of Gigi stretched out round the Bower's corner. Hedropped back. The Viking slid past him, Sharane in hisgrip. For an instant she hung in air; she was caught byGigi. She was drawn from sight.
	There was a shouting from the inner stairway. The sol-diers had rallied; were rushing up. Kenton saw Sigurd andthe Persian lifting the heavy couch, throwing off its cover-ings, tilting it. They rocked it to the doorway, shoved '.i.through, sent it crashing down the steps. There was an  other shouting, cries of agony, groanings. The bed hadswept the men before it as a well hurled ball does thewooden pins. It had swept and crushed them-had swungacross the stairway at turn of the highest lesser angledledge and had jammed there against the golden roped rail -a barricade.
	"Go Sigurd," cried Kenton. "Wait for us by the woods.I fight here with Zubran." The Persian looked at him, a light of affection such asKenton had never before seen there softening the agateeyes. He nodded to Sigurd.
	As though it had been a signal prearranged, the Vik-ing's arms were instantly around Kenton. Strong as he hadgrown, Kenton could not break their grip. And Zubranwhisked the golden helm of Bel from his head and set iton his own; tore loose the golden buckler, dropped his owncoat of mail and fastened it in its place; took the scarletthreaded mantle of the god and wrapped it half aroundhis mouth, hiding his beard.
	Then Kenton was carried like a struggling child to thewindow; was thrust out of it; was caught by Gigi anddropped beside the weeping Sharane.
	The Viking turned and folded the Persian in his arms.
	"No waiting, Northman! No sentiment now!" Zubransnapped, breaking away. "There can be no escape for me -you know that, Sigurd. The rope? Words-to satisfy theWolf! I love him. The rope? Why, they would slide downit behind me like snakes. Am I a trembling hare to leadthe hounds to the hiding places of my kind? Not I! Nowgo, Sigurd-and when you have gotten clear of the citytell them. And make for the ship as quickly as you can." Said the Viking, solemn: "Shield maidens are close!Odin takes the hero, no matter what his race! You supwith Odin All-Father in Valhalla soon, Persian!" "May he have dishes that I have never tasted," jestedthe Persian. "Out of the window, Norseman!" And Zubran holding his knees, the Viking crawled out,and was caught by Gigi.
	Then down the terraces, Sigurd leading, Sharane cov-ered by Gigi's great cloak, Kenton cursing still, flew thefour of them.


26. The Passing Of Zubran

	THE PERSIAN did not close the window after them. Helet the wind stream through. He swaggered back throughBel's Bower.
	"By all the Daevas!" swore Zubran, "never have I knownsuch feeling of freedom as now! Lo-I am all alone-the last man in the world! None can help me, none cancounsel me, none can weary me! Life is simple at last-allthere is to it is for me to slay until I am slain. By Ormuzd-how my spirit stands on tiptoe---" He peered around the doorway.
	"Never has that couch given man such trouble tomount!" he chuckled as he watched the soldiers belowworking to clear away the barrier.
	Turning, he piled in the middle of Bel's Bower thesilken coverings of the bed. He ripped down the wallhangings and threw them on the heap. One by one hetook the lamps and emptied them on the pyre; the oil inthe ewers beneath them he poured upon it.
	"That old world of mine," mused the Persian as heworked, "how it wearied me! And this world has weariedme-by the Flame of Sacrifice, but it has! And I am surethat new world of the Wolf's would weary me most of all.I am done with the three of them." He picked up the body of the Priest of Bel, carried it tothe window.
	"It will puzzle Klaneth more to find you outside thanwithin," he laughed, and slid the body over the sill.
	He stood over the dancer.
	"So beautiful!" whispered Zubran, and touched her lips,her breasts. "I wonder how you died-and why. It musthave been amusing-that! I had no time to ask the Wolf.Well-you shall sleep with me, dancer. And perhaps whenwe awaken-if we do-you shall tell me." He stretched Narada out upon the oil soaked pile. He  took the smoking brazier and placed it close besideher.. .
	There was a roaring from below; a trampling of feeton the stairway. Up streamed the soldiers, stronger nowby scores. An instant Zubran showed himself at the door-way, Bel's golden mantle twisted round his neck, halfbiding his face.
	"The priest! The priest!" they cried-and Klaneth's voicebellowed over all-- "The priest! Slay him!" The Persian stepped back to the cover of the wall, smil-ing. He picked up the shield Sharane had dropped.
	Through the narrow doorway a soldier leaped, a secondon his heels.
	The scimitar hissed twice, swift as swiftest snake. Thetwo fell under the feet of those pressing from behind,tripping them, confusing them.
	And now up and down, thrusting, ripping, slashing,danced Zubran's blade until its red sweat dyed his armfrom hand to shoulder. In front of him grew a barricadeof the dead.
	Two by two only could they set foot upon the Bower'sthreshold-and two by two steadily they fell, blockingthat threshold from side to side with a steadily rising wallof bodies. At last their swords glinted toward him nomore; he heard the forward ranks cry out behind the bar-rier; leaping upon the slain he saw them turn and pressback those who marching upward tried to sweep them on.
	The Persian flexed the weary muscles of his arm; laughed as he heard the voice of Klaneth: "There is but one man there! Kill him-and bring methe woman. Ten times her weight in gold for him whotakes her!" They mustered; they rushed up the stairway like a racingsnake; they clambered over the wall of the dead. The reddrip of Zubran's scimitar became a running rivulet-- An agony bit deep into his side, above the groin. Afallen swordsman had raised himself, thrust up his blade.
	The Persian knew the wound was mortal! He cut down at the grinning face, leaped again upon thedead, cleared the doorway with storm of strokes. He thrusthis shoulder against the wall of bodies, threw them out.They spewed upon the steps, rolled down. They fell uponthe climbing men, tripped them; pitched them off the rail-  less edge of the stairway; sent them hurtling down throughthe mists, clutching at the air.
	For twenty steps the stairway was clear! An arrow whistled.
	It cut through the twisted mantle around Zubran'sneck; pierced him where helm and gorget met. He drankthe salt blood pouring down his throat.
	The Persian staggered to the silken pile on which layNarada. He caught a leg of the brazier and overturnedits coals upon the oil soaked cloths.
	Thin flames arose. The blast from the opened windowcaught them and turned them into roaring fans of fire.
	Through them Zubran crept; stretched himself out be-side the body of the dancer; twisted, and gathered her inhis arms.
	"A clean death," he whispered. "At the last . . . like allmen. ... I return to the ... gods of my fathers. Aclean death! Take me-O Fire Immortal!" A flame shot up beside him. It hovered, then bent.
	The tip of the flame broadened.
	It became a cup of fire filled with wine of flames! Into that cup the Persian dipped his lips; he drank ofits wine of fire; he breathed its incense.
	His head fell back, unmarred; the dead face smiling. Hishead dropped upon Narada's breasts.
	The flames made a canopy over them; the flames tentedthem.


27. How They Fared Back To The Ship

	Now the four for whose freedom the Persian had died were far away. Safely they had passed the terraces; thedead sentries lay as they had fallen. But as they went thefour heard a humming begin inside the ziggurat like thatof a disturbed and colossal hive, heard the great drum re-sume its throbbing and sped faster under cover of the wall  of stone to where the grapnel of Gigi hung. One by onethey slipped down its rope and into the sheltering trees.The tempest scourged them-but it shielded them. None was on the wide street to challenge their going. Emakhtila lay within its painted houses hiding from the storm.
	When the cup of flame had dipped to the Persian's lipthey were well along the other way upon which openedthe hidden path back to the ship.
	When the soldiers had at last mustered courage toswarm the stairs once more, and with the black priest ontheir heels had poured within the silent Bower, the fourwere far beyond the clustered houses, stumbling throughthe deep mud of the farmside, the Viking at lead, Kentonguarding the rear-and watching, ever watching, forZubran.
	And back in that chamber where Zubran's ashes laymixed with the dancer's, the black priest stood, mazedand with something of fear touching his wicked heart-until his wandering gaze caught gleam of the butterfliesin Narada's veils that had slipped from her when thePersian had lifted her, caught, too, the trail of bloodthat led to the open window. Staring out that window theblack priest saw in the livid dusk the crumpled body ofBel's priest-dead, white face raised to his own, fortyfeet below.
	The priest! Then whose were the charred bodies on thepyre? Who had been the man fighting in golden helm andbuckler, face hidden in the god's mantle? So swift hadbeen the sword play, so much had that man been hiddenby the soldiers, so much by cover of the wall, thatKlaneth watching from below had caught few glimpsesof him; had taken it for granted that he was Bel's priest.
	Back ran the black priest; kicked savagely at the ashesof the pyre and what still lay among them.
	Something clanged upon the floor-a broken scimitar!He knew that hilt-Zubran's, the Persian! Something glittered at his feet-a buckle, gems undulledby their bath of fire! He knew that, too-the buckle ofNarada's girdle! Why then-these blackened forms were the Persian-the dancer! Sharane had been freed! The black priest stood rigid, face so dreadful that. the  soldiers shrank back from him, threw themselves againstthe walls, out of his way.
	Then Klaneth plunged howling out of Bel's Bower,down the angled stairway, through the secret shrines, onand on until he reached that cell where he had left Ken-ton with the six archers. He threw open the door, sawarchers and officer deep in sleep and Kenton-gone! And shrieking curses, staggered out of the cell, roaringfor men to go forth to search the city for the temple draband the slave; offering all he owned for them-all, all!If only they brought their pair back to him alive! Alive! By now the four had left the road and had halted inthat wood where the hidden path began and where thePersian, in his craft, had bade them wait for him. Andhere Sigurd told them of Zubran's sacrifice and why thatsacrifice had been necessary. And Sharane wept and Ken-ton's throat ached with sorrow and Gigi's beady blackeyes grew soft and his tears ran down the furrows of hiswrinkles.
	"What's done-is done," said Sigurd. "He sups, by now,with Odin and the heroes!" Brusquely he shouldered by them and took the way.
	On they went and on. The rain drenched them, thewind beat them. When storm lightened they went swiftly; when it darkened so that the Viking could no longer seethe trail, they halted. On and on-beating back to theship.
	Now Sharane faltered and fell, nor could she riseagain; and the three, clustering round her, saw that herthin sandals were in rags and that her slim feet werebare and bleeding and that for long each step must havebeen an agony. So Kenton took her in his arms and car-ried her, and when he tired Gigi took her; and Gigi wasuntiring.
	And at last they came to where the ship lay hid. Theyhailed her and found the warrior maids on watch. Tothem they gave Sharane and they carried their mistressinto her cabin and ministered to her.
	Now arose discussion as to whether they should stayhid until the tempest had abated. At last they decidedthat they would not; that it was better to push out to seathan stay so close to Emakhtila and Nergal's hauntedplace. So the chains were unshackled from the trees, the  ship drawn out of shelter, her bow warped round andpointed to harbor's mouth, Then up came the hook; down dipped the oars. Slowlythe ship gathered speed. She swung out round the pointof rocks and, Sigurd at the steering oar, shot into the eyeof the wind, breasted the roaring combers and leaped likea racer out into the open ocean, Kenton, utterly spent, dropped where he stood. To himcame Gigi, lifted and carried him into the black cabin.
	Long squatted Gigi beside him, wide awake, thoughweary as he was, peering here and there with brighteyes; listening, watchful. For it seemed to Gigi that theblack cabin was not as it had been when they had leftit; it seemed to Gigi that he heard a whispering, ghostsof whispers, coming and going.
	And now Kenton moaned and muttered in his deepsleep, gasped as though hands sought his throat. Gigi,pressing paw on Kenton's heart, stilled him.
	But after a time the watchful eyes of Gigi dulled, theirlids dropped, his head nodded.
	In the empty niche where the idol of Nergal had stoodabove the bloodstone slab of worship a darkness gath-ered, a cloudy shape of curdled shadows.
	The shape darkened. Within it began to form the sem-blance of a face, a face that brooded upon the sleepingpair, hate filled, menacing-- Again Kenton groaned and fought for breath againstnightmare terror. And the drummer threshed out longarms, leaped to his feet, glared about him-- Swiftly as it had come, before Gigi's sleep-heavy eyescould open, the shadowy face had vanished-the nichewas empty.


28. The Vision Of Kenton

	WHEN Kenton awakened, it was ihe Vikine and notGigi who lay beside him, stripped and snoring. He must  have slept long, for the drenched garments the Ninevitchad taken off him were dry. He put on clout and tunic,slipped feet in sandals, threw over his shoulders a shortcloak and softly opened the door. Blackness and darktwilight had given way to a pallid dusk that turned thesea a sullen grey. The rain had ceased, but all the world of the ship vibrated to the steady roar of a mighty windpouring over it.
	Before that wind the ship was flying, riding like a gullon the crests of giant waves; slipping back, as the swellspassed, through smoothly onrushing floors of water likeliquid slate; rising to fly again upon the crest of the nextracing wave.
	Kenton struggled up to the steersman's place, thespindrift stinging his face like sleet. To one of the rudderoars clung Gigi, at the other were two slaves from therowers' pit. The Ninevite grinned at him; pointed to thecompass. He looked and saw that the needle which heldconstant to Emakhtila pointed straight astern.
	"Far behind us now is that den!" shouted Gigi.
	"Go below!" cried Kenton in a pointed ear, and wouldhave taken the oar from him. But Gigi only laughed,shook his head and pointed toward the cabin ofSharane.
	"That is your course," he roared. "Steer it!" And buffeting the gale Kenton came to the door of therosy cabin; opened it. Sharane lay asleep, cheek cradledin one slim hand, tresses covering her like a silken net ofred gold. Two maids, watchful, crouched at her bedside.
	As though he had called to her, she opened sleepy eyes-sleepy eyes that as she looked at him grew sweetlylanguorous.
	"My own dear lord!" whispered Sharane.
	She sat up, motioned the girls to go. And when theyhad gone she held out white arms to him. His own armswere around her. Like a homing bird she nestled in the THEM; raised red lips to his.
	"Dear lord of me!" whispered Sharane.
	He heard no more the roaring wind-heard nothingbut the whisperings, the sighings of Sharane; forgot allworlds save that which lay within Sharane's tender arms.
	Long they flew on the tempest's wings. Twice Kentontook Gigi's place at the rudder oars, twice the Viking  relieved him before the great wind died and they sailedonce more on dimpling, sparkling turquoise sea, Then for those upon the ship a hunted life began-anda haunted one.
	Far, far behind them must lie Emakhtila by now, andyet on all the four rested clear certainty of pursuit. Nofear, no terror-but knowledge that the ship was ahunted thing; knowledge that they could outwit, outsailthe fleet they knew must be combing these strangeseas until they found a safe and secret harbor, therecould be but one end for them. Nor did one of them be-lieve, deep in his heart, that there was such sanctuary, Yet they were happy. Full tide of life beat round Ken-ton and Sharane. They took their fill of Jove. And Sigurdsang old Sagas, and a new one he had made of Zubranthe Persian, while he and Gigi beat out huge shields andarrows for the bows. The shields they set around the bul-warks at the ship's bow and pierced them with siftsthrough which arrows could be winged. Two they fas-tened on each side of the stern to guard helmsman.
	And Sigurd would chant of battle to come, andshield maidens who would hover over the ship ready tobear the soul of Sigurd, Trygg's son, to his seat in Val-halla where Zubran awaited him. He sang of place forKenton there, and Gigi too-but not when Sharane wasin earshot, since in Valhalla was no place for women.
	Hunted and-haunted! Within the black cabin the shadows thickened andfaded, grew stronger, passed and returned. Something ofthe dark Lord of the Dead was there, had retaken seizinof his deck. Nor Gigi nor the Viking cared to sleep inthe black cabin now; they sought the open deck or thecabin of the warrior maids.
	And the slaves murmured of shadows that flitted overthe black deck and clustered at the rail and stared downupon them! Once, while Sigurd drowsed over the tiller bar, he awak-ened to find that unaware to all the course of the shiphad changed, that the greater needle of the compassPointed straight over the bow to-Emakhtila; that theship was moving under the oars back to Sorcerers' Isie! Thereafter they steered two by two-Kenton andSharane, Gigi and the Viking.
	 Nor was there power within Sharane to banish theshadows.
	One isle they made and replenished food and water.There was good harbor there, a hidden cover and, beyond,a great forest beckoned them. Here they stopped for atime; talked of drawing the ship up shore, concealing her; then finding place within the woods to build fort; meetthere whatever attack might come.
	The Ship of Ishtar drew them back to her.
	Restless were they all, uneasy on the land, each afraidin secret heart that the other three would make up mindsto stay; and gay as children they were when the shipdrove out again and dipped her bow to the crested waveswhile the clean sea wind shouted to them and the isle.dropped behind.
	"A prison," laughed Kenton.
	"No life, that!" growled Sigurd. "Hiding in a burrow tillthe dogs come to dig us out! Now we can see whatcomes." They met a long ship, a unireme like their own, but oftwenty oars. It was a merchant carrier and heavily laden,and it would have fled from them. But the Viking criedthat she must not escape to carry tidings to Emakhtila.So they pursued and rammed and sunk her with thechained slaves wailing at the oars-Kenton and Gigi andSigurd ruthlessly, Sharane white faced and weeping.
	They met another-a light vessel no larger than theship, but this time a war boat, a hunter. They feigned toflee and it gave chase. And when it was close to themthe Viking swerved and fell astern; then drove the Shipof Ishtar swiftly against the other's side, shearing theoars. Those on that vessel fought bravely; yet, hamperedby the black priest's command to take but not slay, theywere no match for Gigi's great mace, the Viking's bladeand Kenton's sword of blue lightnings. They fell beforethem and the arrow storm from Sharane and her maids.But they took toll before they were ended. One of thewarrior maids died with an arrow through her heart andboth Gigi and Sigurd had their wounds.
	In this craft they found store of metal for the Viking'sforge. Better still, balls of tow and oils to soak them inand flint to light them, strong shafts to carry the ballswhen blazing and oddly shaped crossbows to hurl theshafts with their heads of fire. All these and the metal  they took. Then they sank that vessel with its living andits dead.
	On sailed the ship and on; while Sigurd hammered outhis long shields and Gigi and Kenton set the crossbows inplace by rosy cabin and dark, with tow and oils and flintready for the firing.
	And time passed; nor did the tides of life that flowedstrong through Kenton of the ship wane ever; waned not -grew stronger and more strong for him and forSharane.
	Lying beside his sleeping love Kenton awoke-orthought that he awakened-and opening his eyes saw notthe cabin but two faces gazing down upon him fromsome unknown space; vast faces, vague and nebulous.Their shadowy eyes dwelt upon him.
	One spoke-and lo, it was the voice that had guidedhim through the temple's secret shrines! The voice ofNabu! "Again Nergal centers his wrath upon the ship, O Ish-tar!" it said. "The strife between him and your Sister-Selfonce more will trouble gods and men, deepening the shad-ows in myriad worlds. Great Mother-only you may endit!" "My word went forth"-the other voice was like thewind rippling over thousands of harp strings-"my wordwent forth; and that Sister-Self of mine whom of oldmen have called the Wrathful Ishtar-has she not herrights? She has not conquered Nergal. Nor has Nergalconquered her. There has been no settlement such as Idecreed. How, then, can my Sister-Self rest when the wordI spoke in anger has not yet been resolved? And as longas she contends, so long must Nergal also who, too, isbound by that word." "Yet the flames you kindled within the souls of Zarpanitand Alusar, the flames that were the life of those souls -they did not perish," the still voice whispered. "Didthey not escape both your Wrathful Sister and Dark Ner-gal? And why, Ishtar? Was it not because you willed it so?Did you not hide them? What of that word of yours then?" "Wise are you, Nabu!" came the voice of Ishtar. "Nowlet this man whose eyes we have opened see what thatmy priestess and her lover wreaked of ill when theybrought into each other's arms the Mother of Life and  the Lord of Death! Let the man judge whether my angerwere just or not!" "Let the man judge!" echoed the voice of Nabu.
	The vast faces faded. Kenton looked out upon depthupon depth, infinity upon infinity of space. Myriads ofsuns were hived therein and around them spun myriad;; upon myriads of worlds. Throughout that limitless spacetwo powers moved; mingled yet ever separate. One was aradiance that fructified, that gave birth and life and joy oflife; the other was a darkness that destroyed, that drewever from the radiance that which it had created; still-ing them, hiding them in its blackness. Within the radi-ance was a shape of ineffable light and Kenton knew thatthis was the soul of it. In the darkness brooded a deepshadow, and he knew that this was its darker soul.
	Before him arose the shapes of a man and a woman; and something whispered to him that the woman's namewas Zarpanit and the man's Alusar, the priestess of Ish-tar and the priest of Nergal. He saw in each of theirhearts a wondrous, clear white flame. He saw the twoflames waver, bend toward each other. And as they didso, shining threads of light streamed out from the radi-ance, linking the priestess with its spirit; while from theblack core of the darkness threads of shadow ran outand cooled about the priest.
	As the bending flames touched suddenly the shiningthreads and shadow threads were joined-for an instantwere merged! And in that instant all space shuddered, the sunsrocked, the worlds reeled and all the rushing tides of lifepaused!                                           "Behold the sin!" rippled the voice of harp strings.
	"Open his eyes wider!" came the still, cold voice.
	And now Kenton beheld a radiant chamber in whichsat dread powers, veiled in glories of light-all save onewho hid in the darkness. Before them stood the priestand priestess and at the side of the priestess-Sharane! Again he saw the white flames within the hearts ofthose two-untroubled, serene, indifferent to gods or an-gry goddess! Bending toward each other, unquenchable,immutable, indifferent to wrath of gods or their punish-ments! That picture wavered, faded. Now upon the floor ofthat radiant chamber he saw priest and priestess, Sharane  and Klaneth and around them the bodies of many womenand men. There was a high altar half hidden by a cloudof sparkling azure mist. Within the mist, upon that altar,a wondrous ship was being built by unseen hands.
	And ever as that ship grew Kenton saw, far beyond itas though it were its shadow cast into another dimension,another ship growing; a ship that seemed to build itselfout of a turquoise sea in a world of silver clouds! Stepby step that shadow ship followed the building of thepuppet ship upon the altar.
	He knew that the shadow was the real-the toy beingshaped upon the altar was the symbol.
	Knew, too, that symbol and reality were one; thingslinked by an ancient wisdom; things created by ancientpowers, of which the fate and fortune of one must be thefate and fortune of the other.
	Duoform! One a puppet and one real! And each thesame! Now the unseen hands within the mists of azure hadfinished the ship. They reached down and touched, one byone, the bodies of Ishtar's priestess and Nergal's priest,Sharane and Klaneth and all who lay around them. Andas they touched, those still forms vanished. The unseenhands lifted and placed, one by one, little puppets on thepuppet ship.
	Upon the decks of the shadow ship on the turquoisesea in the world of silver clouds bodies lay-one by onethey appeared there as the toys were set in place upon thetoy ship on the altar! At last there were no more still forms upon the floor ofthe council chamber of the gods.The ship was made and manned! A beam shot out from the radiance that veiled Ishtarand touched the ship's bow. A tendril of darkness uncoiledfrom the blackness in which brooded the Lord of theDead and this darkness touched the ship's stern.That picture wavered and fled, There appeared another chamber; small, almost a crypt.In it stood a single altar. Over the altar hung a lampnimbused by an aureole of azure; and the altar was oflapis lazuli and turquoise and studded with sapphires ofclearest blue. And Kenton knew that this was some secretshrine of Nabu, Lord of Wisdom.On the altar rested the ship. As Kenton looked upon  it, it was borne to him again that this jeweled toy, hrgleaming symbol, was linked inseparably with that other; ship sailing in another space, another dimension; sailing on strange seas in an unknown world--- The ship on which he sailed! And that as the toy fared, so fared the Ship of Ishtar; and as the Ship of Ishtar fared, so fared the toy; eachthreatened when one was threatened; sharing each theother's fate.
	That picture faded. He looked upon a walled city outof which towered a high temple, a terraced temple, aziggurat. A host besieged city; its walls were coveredwith its defenders. He knew that the city was ancientUruk and the high temple that in which the ships hadbeen built. And as he looked, the besiegers broke throughthe walls; overwhelmed the defenders. He had a glimpseof red carnage-that picture fled.
	Again he saw the crypt of Nabu. There were two prieststhere now. The ship rested upon the floor of a lattice ofsilvery metal. Over the altar hovered a little shining bluecloud. It came to him that the two priests were obeyinga voice in that cloud; saving the ship and those whosailed on it from the invaders. They poured over it fromhuge basins a fine mortar that was like powder of ivoryflecked with dust of pearls. It covered and hid the toy.Where the puppet ship had been was now a block ofstone. The cloud vanished. Other priests entered; draggedthe block out, through corridors and into the court ofthe temple. There they left it.
	Into the court swarmed the victors, looting and slaying.But ever, unheeding, they passed the rough block by.
	Now he looked upon another walled city, great andbeautiful. He knew it for Babylon in the full moon of itspower. Another ziggurat took its place. That melted andKenton looked upon another secret shrine of Nabu. Theblock lay within it.
	Flickered thereafter before him fleeting pictures of bat-tles and of triumphs; pageant and disasters; quick, brokenscenes of temple and city lost and won and lost once more; destroyed only to be built again in greatergrandeur-- Then fallen-abandoned by the gods.Then crumbling-abandoned by man; the desert creep-ing on it; at the last covering it.
	  Then-forgotten! There came a whirlpool of images, grey and indistinctin the swiftness of their passing. They steadied. He sawmen working in the sands that were Babylon's shroud. Herecognized among them-Forsyth! He saw the block un-earthed; borne away by tall Arabs; saw it crated into aprimitive cart drawn by patient little rough coated ponies; watched it tossing in the hold of a ship that sailed a seahe knew; watched it carried into his own house--He saw himself as he freed the ship!He looked again into the shadowy eyes."Judge!" sighed the harp strings."Not yet!" whispered the still voice.Kenton looked again into that immeasurable spacewherein he had first seen radiant power and dark. Butnow he saw within it countless flames like those whichhad burned in the breasts of Ishtar's priestess and theLord of Death's priest; saw infinity flecked and flamingwith them. They burned deep down through the shadows,and by their light up from the darkness came gropingmultitude upon multitude of other flames that had beenshrouded by the darkness. He saw that without thoseflames the radiance itself would be but a darkness! He saw the ship as though it floated in that same space.As he gazed a deeper shadow flitted from the soul ofthe blackness and brooded over it. Instantly somethingof the soul of the radiance rayed out and met it. Theystrove, one against the other. The ship was a focus ofhatred and of wrath from which, visibly, waves swungout in ever widening circles. As the waves circled out-ward from the ship the shadow lines that ran from thecore of darkness grew darker, thicker, as though theysucked strength from those waves. But under their beat the radiance dulled and the countless flames flickeredand swayed, and were troubled.
	"Judge!" whispered the cold tones of Nabu.Now Kenton in this dream of his-if dream it was-faced dilemma; hesitated. No trivial matter was it to in