A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, February 1950 — page 72: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

72 A. MBRRITT’S FANTASY a law broken, and the man who broke it. If the priestess goes to the fire, he must be punished, also.” I listened to this speech and would not believe that I heard it. “What punishment will you name?” asked the central judge. “The executioner and his ax!” said Darrell, CHAPTER 21 The Story of Darrell T WAS as though someone had hit me on the point of the chin. There was the same shock from in front, and the same stiffning mallet-blow at the base of the brain. For it was Cleve Darrell who was sen- tencing me to death! The third judge now spoke up, saying, “Tt is true that the woman must die, but as for the man, he has come from a great distance, and because of a friend. The laws of the Smoking Land are strange to him ; and a stranger’s way should be made easier.” Somewhere, through the haze of my stunned brain, I heard a woman sobbing —not for me, I knew, but for poor Sylvia. Then Sylvia’s own voice came out clearly and sharply, saying: “He would have saved me. It was his will and his strength to save me that brought me into the danger of death. What law is this and what justice if an innocent man, and one who knoweth not our laws, be condemned to death, like a brute beast by hungry men?” Said the chief judge, “Thou hearest, brother, that two voices speak on his be- half. What dost thou say?” “I say,” said Darrell, “that my heart aches to speak against him. In another life, which I have almost forgotten, I know that he was a friend to me. I know that he has come here to find me, and dared a great many dangers. But what is my wish, my lord, except to keep the laws of the land strongly? If we loosen the bonds even a little, soon all is lost. Wittingly or unwittingly, death is what he has deserved, and death must there- fore come to him!” Well, I had begun to think that all of those people had become enchanted with fear of the judges, but when Darrell fin- ished this speech, a howl and groan of detestation and horror roared upward and filled the great room with thunder. Vio- lated friendship was something which the people of the Smoking Land did not like. And Darrell, as he heard them roar, stood up, and slowly, little by little, swept his eyes over that crowd, and as his glance passed around, a wave of deep silence followed it. I was amazed to see the dignity, the cold, inhuman strength of that man’s will power, exerted over so many ! As he sat down again, I heard the chief judge saying, “This is a thing to be known and remembered by many. We know that friendship is dear in all lands. But law is a more sacred mistress. Brother, this sacrifice to truth shall be remembered.” He took up a sort of scepter or baton. “The woman has confessed her trespass. The man has confessed his sin. Therefore I pronounce judgment. He shall die under the axe, and twenty-four hours shall pass before his death. And the priestess shall be bound hand and foot and cast into the fire that burns on the alter of her goddess. She, perhaps, may there save the life of her priestess!” A long, breathless gasp of horror and fear and grief came from the throats of that crowd. In the meantime, I struggled back out of my dream, and I shouted out, “Cleve, you’re not really letting me down hike this! You’re not such a—” Half a dozen of the guards hit me like a flying wedge in football. They did not need the added weight of their armor to flatten me out like a steam roller. I went down, and they all kicked me for goals at the same time, and they all scored the goals, and carried me out through that crowd. The sparks were flying out of my brain for a long time, and when finally I was seeing fairly well again, I was lying secure- ly in my former room. I was tied up like a chicken for the market—so tightly and in so many places, that I could hardly get a full breath down deep into my lungs. I was so angry at Cleve Darrell that I forgot the darkness, I almost forgot my approaching death. But not for long. Presently, in such a little rag of time, I GOMIIGooOo S (©