Warrior of the Dawn Part 31

"I'll never be able to climb it, Tharn," she protested. "How I ever managed to get down it without falling, is more than I know."

"We can not wish ourselves to the top," Tharn pointed out. "Nor is there any point in remaining here. We can at least make the effort."

It required more than an hour for them to gain the upper edge of the plateau. Alurna was helpless to aid him by doing any climbing herself; Tharn literally had to carry her up that vertical slope.

When they stood at last on level ground, the cave-man did not stop to rest. After they had crossed the narrow stretch of plains bordering the forest, Tharn turned to his companion. "I am going to carry you, again,"

he said. "Hold me about the neck and do not be afraid."

With that, he lifted her easily, and supporting her thus with one arm, took to the trees. With the pathway through the branches lighted by Dyta's powerful rays, and with the knowledge that only a few hours remained before he would reclaim Dylara, Tharn elected to travel swiftly; and when the forest-man hurried, there were few of the jungle folk that could match his speed.

Onward he went, racing along swaying limbs, leaping outward across s.p.a.ce to hurtle into the embrace of another tree at the dizzy height of the forest top, his free hand finding, unerringly, some waving bough at the very instant those sure feet came to rest on some strong branch. Now he threaded his way above the hard-packed earth with all the grace and agility of a tight-rope walker, prevented from falling only by an uncanny sense of balance. If handicapped by his burden, none might have guessed it; certainly he could not have moved with greater speed and surety had he been unenc.u.mbered.

Alurna lay quiescent within his grasp, looking up at the immobile face so near her own. It was restful to lie against the broad chest, her cheek pillowed on a firm shoulder, and be lulled to drowsiness by the rhythmic sway of this tireless body. A feeling of complete peace gradually suffused her entire being, her eyelids grew languorously heavy, closed of their own volition.... Alurna fell fast asleep.

How long she slept Alurna never knew, but her eyes opened as she felt the arms about her relax their grip and lower her to her feet. There was something almost of roughness in the action, and she looked up at Tharn quickly. To her surprise he was standing with head thrown back, nostrils twitching as he sniffed the wind from the north. His face seemed tense, strangely drawn.

She put a hand on his arm, her white fingers gleaming in sharp contrast to the tanned forearm.

"What has happened, Tharn?" She glanced uneasily about at the surrounding foliage. "Are we nearly to Sephar?"

Tharn was not listening. To his sensitive nostrils the wind was bringing the scent of a lion--and of a girl. The odors were commingled and of equal strength, sufficient evidence to Tharn that the girl might be in danger.

But the scents alone had not brought the tenseness to his face. There was a haunting familiarity to one of them--that of the girl.

And then he was galvanized into action. Whirling, he scooped up the girl and placed her on a thick branch, close to the bole.

"Remain here until I return," he commanded. "I will come back for you."

"But why--" began the princess, then realized she was addressing thin air. Tharn had gone, speeding through the trees into the north.

His mate was in danger! The thought echoed and re-echoed in his mind, even as logic told him it was next to impossible for Dylara to be elsewhere than in Urim's palace. Yet he would stake the evidence of his senses against reason itself--as, indeed, he was doing now.

If his pa.s.sage through the trees with Alurna had been rapid, he was literally flying now--hurling himself from one branch to another with reckless fury--taking chances he ordinarily would never have considered.

While ever stronger to his nostrils came the scent of Sadu--and of Dylara.

At last he caught sight of her, seated on a fallen log at the edge of a trail, carefully ma.s.saging an ankle.

And at the same instant, from his elevated position, he caught sight of Sadu a few paces behind the unheeding daughter of Majok. The beast was lying belly-flat behind a curtain of vines; and even as Tharn discovered him the cat was preparing to spring.

The man of the caves never hesitated. Like a falling stone he plummeted earthward, dropping in front of Sadu as the beast rose in its spring.

Dylara, aroused by crashing foliage, leaped to her feet and whirled about. She cried out awe-struck wonder as she saw the young man who had died beneath a Sepharian club standing between her and an on-rushing lion.

Powerless to move, she watched the Cro-Magnard crouch to meet certain death. In the single instant that elapsed before Sadu reached him, she saw Tharn's hands were empty.

And then her jaw dropped and her eyes flew wide with amazement. Tharn had leaped forward and sent his shoulder crashing into the side of the soaring brute. Sadu, caught off balance, spun sideways and fell heavily.

He was up instantly, growling horribly, and in mad frenzy turned upon Tharn.

What Dylara witnessed then was something that was to go down in the folk lore of future generations of the Cro-Magnard people. She saw the clenched fingers of the man swing forward with every ounce of power in that mighty arm, backed by the insane fury of utter desperation.

The iron fist struck Sadu full between the eyes, crushing the skull like a hollow melon and driving splinters of bone into that savage brain.

Dylara, weak with relief, felt her knees buckle as the lion sank lifeless to the ground. Tharn, his knuckles throbbing with pain, jumped forward and caught her about the waist. She turned her face to him, then, and he saw that her eyes were wet with tears.

Her warm red lips, slightly parted, were very near his own. Drawn by an irresistible impulse, Tharn bent his head to meet them. The girl saw the clean, firm mouth come close, yet she did not shrink away. Something was stirring deep within her--something that had never known life before this moment--something she had no time to a.n.a.lyze.

Suddenly she wanted more than anything else to feel that mouth pressed against her own. She lifted her face for Tharn's kiss....

"Dylara!" said a quiet voice.

The man and the girl sprang apart. Facing them, now, was a group of eight Sepharian warriors, a tall, broad-shouldered young man at their head.

Dylara knew the leader at once. It was Jotan. She saw that his expression was very stern, and she knew instinctively that he was thinking of her in Tharn's embrace.

Jotan ignored the cave-man. "We have been searching for you, Dylara," he said quietly. "Come, we shall return to Sephar at once."

Before she could frame a reply, Tharn had stepped in front of her. There followed a tense, electric moment of silence as the two men eyed each other.

"She is mine," Tharn said, without heat. "She goes with me."

Jotan gestured with one hand. In response, seven spears were leveled at the cave-man's naked chest.

"You are wrong, my friend," said the leader. "I am taking her with me. I have nothing against you; you may have your freedom if you go at once.

Otherwise, you go back to Sephar as a prisoner. Resist, and my men will kill you."

Tharn was thinking rapidly. To attack eight armed men would be a fool's act. Alurna was waiting for him back there in the jungle. And in Alurna he had that which would put to naught those seven spears.

Let this man take Dylara back to Sephar. Tharn had only to return with the princess Alurna and claim his reward from Urim. That reward was--Dylara! He knew Urim would keep his word, no matter what objections were offered by this man.

"Well?" The word was clipped, cold, impatient.

Without a word Tharn turned and leaped into the branches overhead. He had not dared to offer Dylara an encouraging sign, fearing to arouse the Sepharian's suspicions.

The cave-girl watched him go, disbelief uppermost in her mind. It was not like Tharn to give up so easily. But did she want him not to give up? She had thrilled to his strength, his agility and fearlessness during the encounter with Sadu. No other man could have thus faced the jungle king with empty hands--and lived.

But were such qualities enough? She stole a glance at the handsome young Sepharian. In him was more than mere physical appeal. This man gave an impression of consideration and thoughtfulness. He would never take a girl against her will as Tharn had done. He was of a race that had risen above cave life. His people had learned life could mean more than the hunt--more than sleeping and eating and talking. Would not living be richer, more full, with this man than it could possibly be with Tharn?

Meanwhile, Tharn was speeding back through the trees to join Alurna. Led by his unerring sense of direction he soon entered the tree where he had left her.