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sardonic smile. "Faith, I might have ruled the world, given time. And now I
must water the sand with my blood." -
He turned to -the Imperial box, lifting his hand in salute. The emperor
nodded, expecting to hear the usual, "We who are about to die-.-" of the
gladiators.
Scipio disappointed his host. At the top of his voice he howled the words that
would most enrage the onlookers.
"Carthage must be destroyed!"
A wave of fury, a gasp of astonishment and rage, rippled around the arena. The
emperor make a quick, angry gesture. Grinning, Scipio turned to see a barred
gate far across the sanded arena rise slowly.
For a few heartbeats there was silence throughout the circus. The blinding
white heat was oppressive. Steam curled up from the blood-stains on the sands.
Then the musth elephant pounded to the gate. Huge, monstrous, a gray, walking
vastness of animated dull savagery, he lurched through the gate and stood
motionless, only his bloodshot little eyes alive with hatred. The trunk did
not move, save for the tip, which swayed back and forth slightly.
A shadow darkened the arena as a cloud crossed the Sun, and then was gone. -
Scipio hefted the sword he held. It was a short-bladed
weapon, useless unless he could hurl it like a javelin. It was even too broad
to pierce an elephant's eye, the most vulnerable spot of the monster. Briefly
Sciplo thought of slicing off the elephant's trunk as far up as he could
reach. But that would still leave the tusks and mighty tree-trunk limbs that
could squash a man into red pulp.
"Well," Scipio said with grim amusement, "at least they had to use their
biggest elephant to kill me."
His gargoyle face twisted into a fearless grin. In the glaring light, he
resembled a teakwood statue, thewed like a colossus.
The elephant came forward slowly, its red eyes questing viciously until it saw
Scipio. It paused, and the trunk lifted, waving snakelike in the air. It
snorted angrily.
Again the shadow darkened the Sun, and this time it did not pass.
The Carthaginian had no time to look up. He bent slightly from the knees,
holding the sword high like a javelin.
The elephant broke into a lumbering trot. Its speed increased. Like the
Juggernaut, it bore down on him
Scipio had a flashing glimpse of the monster-flapping ears, murderously upheld
trunk, gleaming tusks. The thunder of its approach was growing louder, booming
in his ears. It loomed above him-.---
From the skies sprang a thunderbolt! Flaming with pale brilliance, the
crackling1 beam raved down. It caught the behemoth in mid-stride, bathed it in
shining radiance. And themonster vanished!
It was gone without a trace. The deep craters of its rush ended in the sand a
few yards from where the shocked Scipia crouched. From the spectators rose a
roar, terrified, imbelieving.
A golden ball of enormous size plunged down into the arena. Lightly as a
feather it grounded. A port in its hull sprang open.
Scipio saw a thin, pallid man, with the ascetic face of a Caesar. He was clad
in odd garments and was beckoning us-gently. Beyond him, Sciplo glimpsed a fat
Chinese whose round cheeks were quivering with excitement.
A spear flashed through the air, rang impotently against the golden hull.
Almost paralyzed with amazement, Sciplo ran forward, leaped into the ship.
What this miracle might be, he did not know, but it seemed to provide a means
of escape. Whether the pallid man was a god or a devil, at least he
seemed friendly. More important, to remain in the arena
meant death. - -
The port - slammed shut behind - Scipio. He bounded-through - the inner lock
and stood wide-legged, staring around. The sword was still gripped in his
hand. Fast himthe pallid man strode, and entered an Inner chamber. A quiver of
movement shook the ship as it lifted. The Oriental waddled into view and
beamed at Scipio.
"Relax, friend," he said, lisping the unfamiliar tongue. "You speak Latin?"
"Naturally," Scipio stated. "All the world does. Are you a god? I doubt it,
for only Bacchus and Silenus are obese, and their skins are not yellow."
The Oriental shook with laughter until he had to hold his heaving belly.
"I have heard of this Bacchus. A new god,1 but he is a good one. Sit down." He
waved toward a couch. "My name is Li Yang. Do you wish food?" -
Scipio shook his head and sat gingerly on the soft cushions.
"You called me friend?" he asked. -
"I might better have called you comrade. Ardath saw the hidden possibilities
in you, dragon-face. He read your mind while you slept. - Ah, but you have
dreams of empire, poor fool!"
Li Yang shook his head, and his yellow cheeks swung pendulously. -
"Ill-luck dogs me," Scipio said lightly, grinning. "The gods hate me, so I
wear no crown."
"Nor wilj you. You are not ruthless enough. You could carve out an empire for
yourself, but you could not sit upon a throne. Under all thrones the snake
coils. You are too honest to be a kink, Scipio." - --
The Carthaginian had been about to answer, but he paused. His dark eyes
widened, and a flame sprang into them. Ponderously Li Yang turned.
Two figures stood on the threshold. One was Thordred, but Scipio had no eyes
for even that gigantic form. He was staring with a burning fixity at the
Atlantean priestess. -
She looked lovely indeed. Her delicate figure was veiled by a girdled robe,
from the hem of which her tiny toes peeped. Her golden hair hung loosly about
her shoulders, and framed the elfin features that showed interested
admiration.
"Jove's thunderbolt!" Scipio gasped. "Nay, but this is a goddess! This is
Venus herself!"
Jansaiya preened herself. Under her lashes the sea-green eyes watched Scipio
slumbrously. She basked in the frank, open gaze.
"This is ScipioP" the priestess asked. -
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