A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, February 1950 — page 71: what you’re looking at

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

THE SMOKING LAND* _ 71 og not far from me. There was a chair or her, and before she sat down in it, she bowed three times to the judges, and then she looked calmly about her and gave a smile and a nod to the soldiers of the guard whom she knew. She did not over- look me, but gave me a special smile. aPRe crowd was quieter now, but I could hear the wide whisper of the thousands breathing, and the rustle of clothes, like a far-off wind. The central figure among the judges said: “Sylvia, daughter of Cuthbert, one time priestess of the goddess and keeper of the nameless name, it is charged that you have passed beyond your bounds and en- tered the forbidden gates. Witnesses stand here ready to confront you. What say you —guilty or not guilty?” She stood up and answered. “I am Sylvia, the daughter of Cuthbert, but I am still the priestess, as well. I was en- dowed with the office, I have kept it truly, and what man or woman or child dares to say that the word of the goddess had gone out against me, to strip me of my place?” The words were much louder than the voice, but the clear, easy enunciation carried her speech to the distant corners of the hall. She spoke without anger or any other passion. And out of the crowd there arose a wide murmur of affectionate approbation. They loved her. It was plain to see that. The air fairly throbbed Pam their emotion, “That is a point not to be sce: Syl- via, daughter of Cuthbert, how do you plead?” “T shall not plead,” said she, “until you have answered my protest. Am I here as the daughter of Cuthbert, only, or as the priestess, only?” “Thou must plead,” said the judge. “Otherwise, I must call the witnesses, examine their statements, and then pro- ceed to judgment.” “JT shall not plead,” said she, calmly, “except as the priestess of the goddess.” The judge frowned, but here the man on his right whispered to him, and finally he nodded. “Then we allow you that title,” said the judge. “Is your voice now guilty or not guilty?” “Guilty, my lord!” said she. 33 A faint moan came from the audience. The judge frowned at them and they were still. Yes, with a single glance, he whipped them into silence! That same look would have been enough to sink my own heart into my boots, I think. “Tf thou art guilty,” said the judge, “thou shalt assuredly die.” “For death I am prepared,” said the girl in her dauntless way. “In what manner, and out of what madness didst thou enter the forbidden gate?” asked the judge. “Tn this manner, as thou seest me now, free to make a step forward,” said she. The judge shook his head. “Ralph, son of Raoul,” said he, “didst thou see. her freely enter, of her own will?” And a burly soldier answered, “I saw her carried into the hall in the arms of this man.” The judge looked at me. “‘Didst thou,” said he, “carry this woman through the gate, she lying senseless in thine arms?” I hesitated. Then it seemed to me that there might be a dash more of hope for Sylvia if I answered yes. “Yes, I carried her in. For fire of the volcano was burst- ing all around us. It was showering like water !”’ “What has thou to say, then, to give reason why we should not sentence thee, and give thee to death?” “T never heard of such balderdash!” I answered. ‘This girl, this holy and good woman, had showed me the way to that gate, and your own people had sent word to her that I could only come by going past the Fountain of Life. Well, by her aid I managed to do it, and then, as the fire broke out and the devil was loose, she would have turned back and been surely eaten up in the fire. So I caught her up in my arms. And she struggled against me. And when she saw that I insisted on carrying her toward the near- est gate, she fainted. That’s the gospel truth that I’m telling.” The judge merely said, “Force or no force, the priestess has entered the gate. She confesses her guilt. As for the other, the man—give thy judgment, my friend.” And then Cleve Darrell stood up, and looked at me with a thoughtful eye, and said, “Why should you hesitate? Here’s nip at é i PO Oe ar Ad bh? Se bert oe ) Lad @