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four hundred miles an hour. It was just fast enough to keep
his interest at a high pitch, his mind working on the basis of
his sharp observation, his whole being alert and eager. Once
more he caught a tantalizing glimpse of a city half lost in
the haze of distance. But that, too, lay beyond the river
of boiling mud, uncrossable for some reason by this most
perfect of all means of reconnaissance.
It was shortly after they passed the second city that the
river turned sharply northward. Except for twistings and
writhings that threaded around entire mountains, north-
ward was its course thereafter. Holroyd began to feel
puzzled. It was easy to understand the importance of the
river where it faced Gonwonlane. But why follow the
meandering course of a hot mud moat that seemed to
encircle the solid core of Nushirvan? After an hour it was
clear that that was exactly what they were doing. Gradually
that remarkable canal twisted eastward, then after a long
time it seemed a long time now that his military interest
had collapsed it shifted south for yet more hours.
The sun, which had been high in the heavens, was clinging
finally to the very edge of the western horizon, its rays
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casting long shadows over the strange, terrible mountain
land of Nushirvan when abruptly there was the blurry
rush of speed that had begun the trip; and he was back in
the palace. The journey of minds, inexplicable because of
the queer course it had followed, was over.
The room was much, much dimmer. Its great windows
faced a still bright east, but twilight had obviously come
early now that the sun was sinking in the west. Holroyd
grew aware that he was slumped low in his chair; and that
the goddess was regarding him from over the table with a
faint, amused smile on her lips. Her eyes were serene. She
looked at ease, comfortable, pleased with herself. Before
Holroyd could speak, she said:
'I showed you the far side of Nushirvan, adjoining
Accadistran, because I believe knowing about them will help
you in planning your attack.'
Holroyd couldn't quite see how. He parted his lips to say
so, then shut them again. He who knew nothing about past
discussions between Ineznio and the goddess couldn't ask
too many questions. Except that he had already asked one.
And she had answered, unsatisfactorily, to be sure, but
answered. He said:
That river of boiling mud why couldn't we cross it?'
The woman shook her head. The movement caused her
hair to catch a flash of light. There was a fascinating glint
of gold, like a fire stirred to life. Her voice came softly, out
of the thickening gloom:
There are some things, Ineznio, that even you must not
ask questions about, limitations to certain of my powers.'
She was standing up. She came around the table and her
arms were warm against his neck and cheek as she bent
down. Her lips were cool at first, then demanding. The hard
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questions that still quivered in Holroyd's mind began to
fade. 'Later,' he thought shakily, 'I'll think this whole busi-
ness through completely  '
Holroyd picked up the pen and wrote:
The greatest power in Gonwonlane is the Goddess Inez-
nia. She brought Ptath here before he was due. How this
was done was shown to me.'
He stared at the paragraph with satisfaction. Just seeing
it written down made him feel better. All day yesterday he
had been rushed almost beyond his mental ability to keep up.
Already the new morning had slowed the tempo of his life.
Here he was sitting at a writing desk alone, thinking over
his problems in a leisurely fashion. The resulting general
picture seemed distinctly clearer. L'onee had been sent
against her will to bring him back to Gonwonlane, and she
had done so. That was the beginning. By writing down
everything in sequence, he ought to be able to fit in some of
the pieces now missing, and draw decisive and important
conclusions. Holroyd poised his pen, then wrote again:
'The second greatest power in Gonwonlane, but one
greatly circumscribed, is L'onee. She frustrated the attempt
of the Goddess Ineznia to snatch Ptath into the palace.
How this frustration was accomplished was shown to me,
and  ' Holroyd stopped. He raised his pen and stared at
the sentence. It was untrue. He hadn't been shown. He had
been told. He whistled softly, then very swiftly, he began to
write. In half an hour there was no more doubt. He
scribbled his conclusions:
'The woman I thought L'onee is, of course, Ineznia.
Accordingly, everything told to me by the temple princess,
by Moora, the peasant girl, and by Marshal Nand's wife, is
a distorted version, if not the exact reverse of the truth. The
gaunt woman who tried to kill me, who gave me the ring,
and who found speech so difficult, must be the real L'onee.'
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Holroyd leaned back and stared at the written words.
The shock was mounting inside him, with wonder and a
thousand questions flooding hard after, a totality that nar- [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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