Tarzan the Terrible

9

Blood-Stained Altars

The entrance through which he caught his first glimpse of the interior was rather beautifully carved in geometric designs, and within the walls were similarly treated, though as he proceeded from one apartment to another he found also the figures of animals, birds, and men taking their places among the more formal figures of the mural decorator’s art.  Stone vessels were much in evidence as well as ornaments of gold and the skins of many animals, but nowhere did he see an indication of any woven fabric, indicating that in that respect at least the Ho-don were still low in the scale of evolution, and yet the proportions and symmetry of the corridors and apartments bespoke a degree of civilization.

The way led through several apartments and long corridors, up at least three flights of stone stairs and finally out upon a ledge upon the western side of the building overlooking the blue lake.  Along this ledge, or arcade, his guide led him for a hundred yards, to stop at last before a wide entrance-way leading into another apartment of the palace.

Here Tarzan beheld a considerable concourse of warriors in an enormous apartment, the domed ceiling of which was fully fifty feet above the floor.  Almost filling the chamber was a great pyramid ascending in broad steps well up under the dome in which were a number of round apertures which let in the light.  The steps of the pyramid were occupied by warriors to the very pinnacle, upon which sat a large, imposing figure of a man whose golden trappings shone brightly in the light of the afternoon sun, a shaft of which poured through one of the tiny apertures of the dome.

“Ko-tan!” cried Dak-lot, addressing the resplendent figure at the pinnacle of the pyramid.  “Ko-tan and warriors of Pal-ul-don!  Behold the honor that Jad-ben-Otho has done you in sending as his messenger his own son,” and Dak-lot, stepping aside, indicated Tarzan with a dramatic sweep of his hand.

Ko-tan rose to his feet and every warrior within sight craned his neck to have a better view of the newcomer.  Those upon the opposite side of the pyramid crowded to the front as the words of the old warrior reached them.  Skeptical were the expressions on most of the faces; but theirs was a skepticism marked with caution.  No matter which way fortune jumped they wished to be upon the right side of the fence.  For a moment all eyes were centered upon Tarzan and then gradually they drifted to Ko-tan, for from his attitude would they receive the cue that would determine theirs.  But Ko-tan was evidently in the same quandary as they—­the very attitude of his body indicated it—­it was one of indecision and of doubt.

The ape-man stood erect, his arms folded upon his broad breast, an expression of haughty disdain upon his handsome face; but to Dak-lot there seemed to be indications also of growing anger.  The situation was becoming strained.  Dak-lot fidgeted, casting apprehensive glances at Tarzan and appealing ones at Ko-tan.  The silence of the tomb wrapped the great chamber of the throneroom of Pal-ul-don.

At last Ko-tan spoke.  “Who says that he is Dor-ul-Otho?” he asked, casting a terrible look at Dak-lot.

“He does!” almost shouted that terrified noble.

“And so it must be true?” queried Ko-tan.

Could it be that there was a trace of irony in the chief’s tone?  Otho forbid!  Dak-lot cast a side glance at Tarzan—­a glance that he intended should carry the assurance of his own faith; but that succeeded only in impressing the ape-man with the other’s pitiable terror.

“O Ko-tan!” pleaded Dak-lot, “your own eyes must convince you that indeed he is the son of Otho.  Behold his godlike figure, his hands, and his feet, that are not as ours, and that he is entirely tailless as is his mighty father.”

Ko-tan appeared to be perceiving these facts for the first time and there was an indication that his skepticism was faltering.  At that moment a young warrior who had pushed his way forward from the opposite side of the pyramid to where he could obtain a good look at Tarzan raised his voice.

“Ko-tan,” he cried, “it must be even as Dak-lot says, for I am sure now that I have seen Dor-ul-Otho before.  Yesterday as we were returning with the Kor-ul-lul prisoners we beheld him seated upon the back of a great gryf.  We hid in the woods before he came too near, but I saw enough to make sure that he who rode upon the great beast was none other than the messenger who stands here now.”

This evidence seemed to be quite enough to convince the majority of the warriors that they indeed stood in the presence of deity—­their faces showed it only too plainly, and a sudden modesty that caused them to shrink behind their neighbors.  As their neighbors were attempting to do the same thing, the result was a sudden melting away of those who stood nearest the ape-man, until the steps of the pyramid directly before him lay vacant to the very apex and to Ko-tan.  The latter, possibly influenced as much by the fearful attitude of his followers as by the evidence adduced, now altered his tone and his manner in such a degree as might comport with the requirements if the stranger was indeed the Dor-ul-Otho while leaving his dignity a loophole of escape should it appear that he had entertained an impostor.

“If indeed you are the Dor-ul-Otho,” he said, addressing Tarzan, “you will know that our doubts were but natural since we have received no sign from Jad-ben-Otho that he intended honoring us so greatly, nor how could we know, even, that the Great God had a son?  If you are he, all Pal-ul-don rejoices to honor you; if you are not he, swift and terrible shall be the punishment of your temerity.  I, Ko-tan, King of Pal-ul-don, have spoken.”

“And spoken well, as a king should speak,” said Tarzan, breaking his long silence, “who fears and honors the god of his people.  It is well that you insist that I indeed be the Dor-ul-Otho before you accord me the homage that is my due.  Jad-ben-Otho charged me specially to ascertain if you were fit to rule his people.  My first experience of you indicates that Jad-ben-Otho chose well when he breathed the spirit of a king into the babe at your mother’s breast.”

The effect of this statement, made so casually, was marked in the expressions and excited whispers of the now awe-struck assemblage.  At last they knew how kings were made!  It was decided by Jad-ben-Otho while the candidate was still a suckling babe!  Wonderful!  A miracle! and this divine creature in whose presence they stood knew all about it.  Doubtless he even discussed such matters with their god daily.  If there had been an atheist among them before, or an agnostic, there was none now, for had they not looked with their own eyes upon the son of god?

“It is well then,” continued the ape-man, “that you should assure yourself that I am no impostor.  Come closer that you may see that I am not as are men.  Furthermore it is not meet that you stand upon a higher level than the son of your god.”  There was a sudden scramble to reach the floor of the throne-room, nor was Ko-tan far behind his warriors, though he managed to maintain a certain majestic dignity as he descended the broad stairs that countless naked feet had polished to a gleaming smoothness through the ages.  “And now,” said Tarzan as the king stood before him, “you can have no doubt that I am not of the same race as you.  Your priests have told you that Jad-ben-Otho is tailless.  Tailless, therefore, must be the race of gods that spring from his loins.  But enough of such proofs as these!  You know the power of Jad-ben-Otho; how his lightnings gleaming out of the sky carry death as he wills it; how the rains come at his bidding, and the fruits and the berries and the grains, the grasses, the trees and the flowers spring to life at his divine direction; you have witnessed birth and death, and those who honor their god honor him because he controls these things.  How would it fare then with an impostor who claimed to be the son of this all-powerful god?  This then is all the proof that you require, for as he would strike you down should you deny me, so would he strike down one who wrongfully claimed kinship with him.”

This line of argument being unanswerable must needs be convincing.  There could be no questioning of this creature’s statements without the tacit admission of lack of faith in the omnipotence of Jad-ben-Otho.  Ko-tan was satisfied that he was entertaining deity, but as to just what form his entertainment should take he was rather at a loss to know.  His conception of god had been rather a vague and hazy affair, though in common with all primitive people his god was a personal one as were his devils and demons.  The pleasures of Jad-ben-Otho he had assumed to be the excesses which he himself enjoyed, but devoid of any unpleasant reaction.  It therefore occurred to him that the Dor-ul-Otho would be greatly entertained by eating—­eating large quantities of everything that Ko-tan liked best and that he had found most injurious; and there was also a drink that the women of the Ho-don made by allowing corn to soak in the juices of succulent fruits, to which they had added certain other ingredients best known to themselves.  Ko-tan knew by experience that a single draught of this potent liquor would bring happiness and surcease from worry, while several would cause even a king to do things and enjoy things that he would never even think of doing or enjoying while not under the magical influence of the potion, but unfortunately the next morning brought suffering in direct ratio to the joy of the preceding day.  A god, Ko-tan reasoned, could experience all the pleasure without the headache, but for the immediate present he must think of the necessary dignities and honors to be accorded his immortal guest.

No foot other than a king’s had touched the surface of the apex of the pyramid in the throneroom at A-lur during all the forgotten ages through which the kings of Pal-ul-don had ruled from its high eminence.  So what higher honor could Ko-tan offer than to give place beside him to the Dor-ul-Otho?  And so he invited Tarzan to ascend the pyramid and take his place upon the stone bench that topped it.  As they reached the step below the sacred pinnacle Ko-tan continued as though to mount to his throne, but Tarzan laid a detaining hand upon his arm.

“None may sit upon a level with the gods,” he admonished, stepping confidently up and seating himself upon the throne.  The abashed Ko-tan showed his embarrassment, an embarrassment he feared to voice lest he incur the wrath of the king of kings.

“But,” added Tarzan, “a god may honor his faithful servant by inviting him to a place at his side.  Come, Ko-tan; thus would I honor you in the name of Jad-ben-Otho.”

The ape-man’s policy had for its basis an attempt not only to arouse the fearful respect of Ko-tan but to do it without making of him an enemy at heart, for he did not know how strong a hold the religion of the Ho-don had upon them, for since the time that he had prevented Ta-den and Om-at from quarreling over a religious difference the subject had been utterly taboo among them.  He was therefore quick to note the evident though wordless resentment of Ko-tan at the suggestion that he entirely relinquish his throne to his guest.  On the whole, however, the effect had been satisfactory as he could see from the renewed evidence of awe upon the faces of the warriors.

At Tarzan’s direction the business of the court continued where it had been interrupted by his advent.  It consisted principally in the settling of disputes between warriors.  There was present one who stood upon the step just below the throne and which Tarzan was to learn was the place reserved for the higher chiefs of the allied tribes which made up Ko-tan’s kingdom.  The one who attracted Tarzan’s attention was a stalwart warrior of powerful physique and massive, lion-like features.  He was addressing Ko-tan on a question that is as old as government and that will continue in unabated importance until man ceases to exist.  It had to do with a boundary dispute with one of his neighbors.

The matter itself held little or no interest for Tarzan, but he was impressed by the appearance of the speaker and when Ko-tan addressed him as Ja-don the ape-man’s interest was permanently crystallized, for Ja-don was the father of Ta-den.  That the knowledge would benefit him in any way seemed rather a remote possibility since he could not reveal to Ja-don his friendly relations with his son without admitting the falsity of his claims to godship.

When the affairs of the audience were concluded Ko-tan suggested that the son of Jad-ben-Otho might wish to visit the temple in which were performed the religious rites coincident to the worship of the Great God.  And so the ape-man was conducted by the king himself, followed by the warriors of his court, through the corridors of the palace toward the northern end of the group of buildings within the royal enclosure.

The temple itself was really a part of the palace and similar in architecture.  There were several ceremonial places of varying sizes, the purposes of which Tarzan could only conjecture.  Each had an altar in the west end and another in the east and were oval in shape, their longest diameter lying due east and west.  Each was excavated from the summit of a small hillock and all were without roofs.  The western altars invariably were a single block of stone the top of which was hollowed into an oblong basin.  Those at the eastern ends were similar blocks of stone with flat tops and these latter, unlike those at the opposite ends of the ovals were invariably stained or painted a reddish brown, nor did Tarzan need to examine them closely to be assured of what his keen nostrils already had told him—­that the brown stains were dried and drying human blood.

Below these temple courts were corridors and apartments reaching far into the bowels of the hills, dim, gloomy passages that Tarzan glimpsed as he was led from place to place on his tour of inspection of the temple.  A messenger had been dispatched by Ko-tan to announce the coming visit of the son of Jad-ben-Otho with the result that they were accompanied through the temple by a considerable procession of priests whose distinguishing mark of profession seemed to consist in grotesque headdresses; sometimes hideous faces carved from wood and entirely concealing the countenances of their wearers, or again, the head of a wild beast cunningly fitted over the head of a man.  The high priest alone wore no such head-dress.  He was an old man with close-set, cunning eyes and a cruel, thin-lipped mouth.

At first sight of him Tarzan realized that here lay the greatest danger to his ruse, for he saw at a glance that the man was antagonistic toward him and his pretensions, and he knew too that doubtless of all the people of Pal-ul-don the high priest was most likely to harbor the truest estimate of Jad-ben-Otho, and, therefore, would look with suspicion on one who claimed to be the son of a fabulous god.

No matter what suspicion lurked within his crafty mind, Lu-don, the high priest of A-lur, did not openly question Tarzan’s right to the title of Dor-ul-Otho, and it may be that he was restrained by the same doubts which had originally restrained Ko-tan and his warriors—­the doubt that is at the bottom of the minds of all blasphemers even and which is based upon the fear that after all there may be a god.  So, for the time being at least Lu-don played safe.  Yet Tarzan knew as well as though the man had spoken aloud his inmost thoughts that it was in the heart of the high priest to tear the veil from his imposture.

At the entrance to the temple Ko-tan had relinquished the guidance of the guest to Lu-don and now the latter led Tarzan through those portions of the temple that he wished him to see.  He showed him the great room where the votive offerings were kept, gifts from the barbaric chiefs of Pal-ul-don and from their followers.  These things ranged in value from presents of dried fruits to massive vessels of beaten gold, so that in the great main storeroom and its connecting chambers and corridors was an accumulation of wealth that amazed even the eyes of the owner of the secret of the treasure vaults of Opar.

Moving to and fro throughout the temple were sleek black Waz-don slaves, fruits of the Ho-don raids upon the villages of their less civilized neighbors.  As they passed the barred entrance to a dim corridor, Tarzan saw within a great company of pithecanthropi of all ages and of both sexes, Ho-don as well as Waz-don, the majority of them squatted upon the stone floor in attitudes of utter dejection while some paced back and forth, their features stamped with the despair of utter hopelessness.

“And who are these who lie here thus unhappily?” he asked of Lu-don.  It was the first question that he had put to the high priest since entering the temple, and instantly he regretted that he had asked it, for Lu-don turned upon him a face upon which the expression of suspicion was but thinly veiled.

“Who should know better than the son of Jad-ben-Otho?” he retorted.

“The questions of Dor-ul-Otho are not with impunity answered with other questions,” said the ape-man quietly, “and it may interest Lu-don, the high priest, to know that the blood of a false priest upon the altar of his temple is not displeasing in the eyes of Jad-ben-Otho.”

Lu-don paled as he answered Tarzan’s question.  “They are the offerings whose blood must refresh the eastern altars as the sun returns to your father at the day’s end.”

“And who told you,” asked Tarzan, “that Jad-ben-Otho was pleased that his people were slain upon his altars?  What if you were mistaken?”

“Then countless thousands have died in vain,” replied Lu-don.

Ko-tan and the surrounding warriors and priests were listening attentively to the dialogue.  Some of the poor victims behind the barred gateway had heard and rising, pressed close to the barrier through which one was conducted just before sunset each day, never to return.

“Liberate them!” cried Tarzan with a wave of his hand toward the imprisoned victims of a cruel superstition, “for I can tell you in the name of Jad-ben-Otho that you are mistaken.”