and severing the old alliance. The Jammad Tengru who had ruled all of Mars in that distant age had declared them anathema-—had, in effect, excommunicated them. And nine nations rode to war, to holy war, to jehad, against the rebels.
Broken by the war, but not defeated, the tenth nation had fled into the north, paused to lick their wounds in the northernmost of the old cities, and then—
History was silent on their doom. Even the myths hinted little. And to this day, no man could say what had become of the outlaw nation. Even its name and totem were forgotten in the mists of the remote past.
All memory of this event had been erased from monuments and chronicles. The People themselves had tried to forget that it had ever happened. But mysteries die hard, and live long on the lips of men.
And this was the story of the Lost Nation.
And now Ryker thought he knew the secret of the riddle, and the solution of the oldest mystery known to man.
Zhaggua!
The word meant "devil."
Might it not also mean "devil-worshipper"?
Far into the north the Lost Nation had fled in the beginning of time. Somewhere in the hoarfrosted desert-lands near the pole it had vanished from the knowledge of men.
And north was the road Valarda and her accomplices had been taking. Were they living descendants of the Lost Nation? Zarouk, perhaps, did not call them devils for nothing. Why had they come down out of their hidden realm? For the black stone seal he had taken from an
ancient tomb? And why had they gone back into the north, having thieved it from him?
Were they . . . going home?
Nothing could live in the frigid realms around the pole, Ryker knew. In ancient days, perhaps it had been warm and fertile, as once the polar regions of Earth had been, as scientists had known for centuries from oil deposits found in northern Greenland and the fossilized remains of prehistoric forests unearthed in Canada.
Once, aeons ago, perhaps the Martian Arctic had been ice and snow, too—frozen water. But no longer was this true. It had not been true for endless ages.
The ice-fields around the pole are composed of frozen carbon dioxide—"dry ice"—and nothing that lives and breathes could dwell in that bleak, dry, burning hell of incredible cold.
Unless it lived—underground.
There were vast caverns beneath the crust of Mars, Ryker knew, and labyrinthine systems of subterranean tunnels, extending for hundreds of miles. There dwelt the giant albino rodents, called orthave, which the People hunt for furs.
At least, this was true of the Southlands with which Ryker was more familiar. But might it not be true as well, here in the north?
Who could say?
Ryker had a grim hunch that before long he would be finding out.
If they let him live long enough, that is.
The next day the raiders broke camp and began the long trek north. Houm's caravan went with them. By now Ryker had put two and two together, coming up with four.
Houm was an agent of Zarouk, as Goro the Juhagir was. Houm's trading expedition was a fake. The wains contained food supplies and weapons, nothing more. Houm had lurked here and there in the country north of Yeolarn, awaiting word that the devil worshippers had either been taken or had eluded capture.
If they escaped, they would be heading north. And Yhakhah was the jumping-off-point for the north. So, when apprised of Valarda's escape, Houm had ridden hard for the oasis town, to be there ready and waiting. The trap had functioned perfectly.
And Goro was Zarouk's spy. Probably he had been in Yeolarn when Valarda danced and the mob tried to stone her. Very likely, Goro had taken no part in that mob, but had merely watched and waited from a place of safety and concealment. And when it became obvious that the three zhaggua and their Earthling dupe had fled the city, he had somehow conveyed word of this both to Zarouk in the south, and Houm in the north. Then he had made rendezvous with the prince his master, and together they had ridden hard
Broken by the war, but not defeated, the tenth nation had fled into the north, paused to lick their wounds in the northernmost of the old cities, and then—
History was silent on their doom. Even the myths hinted little. And to this day, no man could say what had become of the outlaw nation. Even its name and totem were forgotten in the mists of the remote past.
All memory of this event had been erased from monuments and chronicles. The People themselves had tried to forget that it had ever happened. But mysteries die hard, and live long on the lips of men.
And this was the story of the Lost Nation.
And now Ryker thought he knew the secret of the riddle, and the solution of the oldest mystery known to man.
Zhaggua!
The word meant "devil."
Might it not also mean "devil-worshipper"?
Far into the north the Lost Nation had fled in the beginning of time. Somewhere in the hoarfrosted desert-lands near the pole it had vanished from the knowledge of men.
And north was the road Valarda and her accomplices had been taking. Were they living descendants of the Lost Nation? Zarouk, perhaps, did not call them devils for nothing. Why had they come down out of their hidden realm? For the black stone seal he had taken from an
ancient tomb? And why had they gone back into the north, having thieved it from him?
Were they . . . going home?
Nothing could live in the frigid realms around the pole, Ryker knew. In ancient days, perhaps it had been warm and fertile, as once the polar regions of Earth had been, as scientists had known for centuries from oil deposits found in northern Greenland and the fossilized remains of prehistoric forests unearthed in Canada.
Once, aeons ago, perhaps the Martian Arctic had been ice and snow, too—frozen water. But no longer was this true. It had not been true for endless ages.
The ice-fields around the pole are composed of frozen carbon dioxide—"dry ice"—and nothing that lives and breathes could dwell in that bleak, dry, burning hell of incredible cold.
Unless it lived—underground.
There were vast caverns beneath the crust of Mars, Ryker knew, and labyrinthine systems of subterranean tunnels, extending for hundreds of miles. There dwelt the giant albino rodents, called orthave, which the People hunt for furs.
At least, this was true of the Southlands with which Ryker was more familiar. But might it not be true as well, here in the north?
Who could say?
Ryker had a grim hunch that before long he would be finding out.
If they let him live long enough, that is.
The next day the raiders broke camp and began the long trek north. Houm's caravan went with them. By now Ryker had put two and two together, coming up with four.
Houm was an agent of Zarouk, as Goro the Juhagir was. Houm's trading expedition was a fake. The wains contained food supplies and weapons, nothing more. Houm had lurked here and there in the country north of Yeolarn, awaiting word that the devil worshippers had either been taken or had eluded capture.
If they escaped, they would be heading north. And Yhakhah was the jumping-off-point for the north. So, when apprised of Valarda's escape, Houm had ridden hard for the oasis town, to be there ready and waiting. The trap had functioned perfectly.
And Goro was Zarouk's spy. Probably he had been in Yeolarn when Valarda danced and the mob tried to stone her. Very likely, Goro had taken no part in that mob, but had merely watched and waited from a place of safety and concealment. And when it became obvious that the three zhaggua and their Earthling dupe had fled the city, he had somehow conveyed word of this both to Zarouk in the south, and Houm in the north. Then he had made rendezvous with the prince his master, and together they had ridden hard
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