Lu-don lightened. “It is an insult to holiness,” he shouted; “From time immemorial, the priests of the great god have sacrificed one life every night to the spirit of Jad-ben-Otho as it returned to its lord below the western horizon, and the great god has never given any sign of resentment.”
“Stop!” ordered Tarzan. “The blindness of the clergy has only prevented it from reading the messages of its God. Your warriors will fall from the knives and clubs of the Waz-don; and the division will abduct your hunters; not a day goes by , which Jad-ben-Otho has ordained for your slaughter on the eastern altar. What greater sign of resentment could you demand, stupid priest? ”
Lu-don was silent. Fearful of a fierce battle raged in him, that this might indeed be the son of God, and the hope that he was not; but his fear prevailed, and he bowed. “Jad-ben-Othon’s son has spoken!” he said, and turning to a lower priest, “Open the latches and return those people to where they came from.”
The interviewee did the work as instructed, and as the latches flew down, the prisoners penetrated forward, all now fully grasping what a miracle had saved them: throwing themselves on their knees in front of Tarzan, they sighed loud thanks.
Ko-tan was almost as appalled as the high priest for this ruthless overthrow of the ancient religious outing. “But what might we do in Jad-ben-Otho’s eyes pleasing?” he exclaimed, creating a look at the monkey man, reflecting a confused concern.
“If you want to please your God,” he replied, “put on your altar the gifts of food and clothing that are most liked in the city of your people. I have seen with my own eyes, and brought more gifts when pappinne explain to people that in this way they reach their god suosiollisuutta “, and Tarzan turned to the mark, indicating that he wanted to leave the temple.
As they left the holy area, the monkey noticed a small but somewhat ornately designed building that was quite separate from the others as if it had been carved from a small, limestone-topped limestone peak. As his attentive gaze shifted to it, he noticed that its door and windows were closed by bars.
“What is that building being used for?” he asked
Lu-don. “Who are you holding prisoner there?”
“It’s nothing,” the high priest replied nervously, “there is no one there. The place is empty. It has been used in the past, but not for years now,” and he advanced to the gate that led back to the palace. Here he and the priest stopped, as Tarzan left the temple area with Ko-tan and his warriors.
Tarzan had not dared to ask the one question he had in his heart in particular, for he knew that many secretly had some suspicion of his appearance; but before deciding, he decided to inquire about it from Ko-tan, either directly or through the shore — whether A-Luri was inside the city walls or whether there had recently been a woman of his race.
As they were served dinner in the chemusalem of Ko-tan palace by the department of the black slave army, which had the burden of all the heavy and low chores of the city on their shoulders, Tarzan noticed that a slave’s eyes seemed to look astonished when he first looked at the monkey man in the chemusalem. And then later he saw the man whispering to another slave and nodding his head towards him. The monkey man did not remember seeing this waz-don ever before; he could not imagine how the man’s interest was so particularly directed at him, and soon that observation was almost forgotten.
Ko-Tania marveled and internally adorned the attention that her divine guest had no desire to mess with abundant food and that she did not even taste the scary beer of the Khodons. For Tarzan, these Kemut were a tedious and tiring opportunity when the guests so earnestly surrendered to binge eating that they had no time for conversation; the only vote was a continual burp, recalling, in addition to their table manners, the visit he had once made to His Highness the famous Berkshire pig farm in the Duke of Westminster in Woodhouse, County Chester.
One by one, the partygoers succumbed to the shocking effect of the drink; the belching turned into snoring, and in the end Tarzan and the slaves were the only conscious beings in the chemical hall.
The monkey rose, turning to the large black man standing behind him. “I want to sleep,” he said; “point me to my room.”
As the man led him out of the hall, the slave who had been astonished to see him earlier in the evening began to talk to one of his comrades for a long time. The latter created a semi-frightened look after the departing monkey man. “If you are right,” he said, “then they should reward us with our freedom; but if you make a mistake, then – Jad-ben-Otho! – what will be our destiny?”
“But I’m not mistaken!” another ardently argued.
“Then there is only one to whom this must be told, for I heard that he looked sour when this Dor-ul-Otho appeared in the temple, and the so-called son of Jad-ben-Othon gave him all the cause of fear and anger there. I mean Lu-don, high priest . ”
“Do you know him?” asked another slave.
“I have worked in the temple,” replied his companion.
“Then go tell him right away, but first get the promise that we will get our freedom from that testimony.”
So a black waz-don arrived at the temple gate and asked to meet the high priest on a very important matter, and despite a moment’s delay, Lu-don took him to his speeches and, after hearing his story, promised him and his friends both freedom and many gifts if they could prove his claim.
And as the slave spoke to the high priest of the temple of A-Luri, the man’s figure fumbled his way around the shoulder of the Past-ul puller, and moonlight reflected from the bright barrel of the Enfield rifle hung on his bare back.
Tarzan’s guide took him to a room on the blue lake side; there he met a year similar to the one he had seen in the villages of the Waz-don, only a stone podium on which large numbers of hoists had been cast. And so he fell to rest, his great question still unanswered and unanswered.
When the new day came, he was awake and wandering along the palace and its territory before there was any sign of the inhabitants other than the slaves; then, almost in the center of the palace area, he hit a fence, the perimeter of which encouraged the monkey man’s curiosity, when he had decided to explore the palace and its surroundings at every point as perfectly as possible.
This place, which it must have been, seemed to be doorless and windowless, and quite clearly it was at least partially devoid of the roof, as the swaying branches of a tree near him crept over the ridge of the wall. Without inventing any other means of access, the monkey boiled his rope from the tangle and, throwing it into the protruding branch, soon clung to the brush lightly like a monkey.
There he noticed a walled enclosed garden, where trees and shrubs and flowering plants fed up superbly stunning. Unwilling to find out if the garden was empty or whether there were ho-donons, waz-dones, or wild beasts, Tarzan dropped flexibly on the grass and began to look at the fence systematically without salivating.
His curiosity was aroused by the inherently obvious fact that the place was not reserved for general practice even for those with free access to the rest of the palace area, and thus its inherent beauties were accompanied by the absence of people making it more attractive to Tarzan, suggesting to find what he had been searching for so long and laboriously.
There were sweet artificial streams and little water ponds in the garden, lined with flowering shrubs, as if a skilled hand of a master gardener had composed it all – so faithfully it showed the charm and general features of nature on a scale.
The inner surface of the wall was shaped to represent the white cliffs of Pal-ul-don, and was interrupted at that time by small replicas of the lush gorges of the originals.
Admiring and fully enjoying every new man the stage offered, Tarzan moved slowly along the garden, and his twist was silent as always. Through the fine forest, he found himself on a small lawn covered with flowers, and at the same time saw in front of him the first homonite she had been allowed to see when she entered the palace. The young and beautiful woman stood in the middle of the little square, with one hand holding her golden breastplate against the bird whose head he was stroking, the Monkey saw his face and confessed to himself that he would have been valued in any country as a rare charm. At the foot of his feet sat a female Waz-Donian slave on his back to Tarzan. Seeing that what he was looking for was not there and, fearing the alarm of revelation, Tarza retreated back, to hide in the foliage;
When he noticed her, the beauty’s eyes reflected only wonder; they expressed no fright, he did not glorify or even raise his beautious voice as he spoke to him.
“Who are you,” he asked, “who so boldly enters the Forbidden Garden?”
Hearing the queen’s voice, the slave girl turned quickly, standing up. “Tarzan-jad-guru!” he exclaimed, a voice of astonishment and relief.
“Do you know him?” informed her mistress, turning to the slave and giving Tarzan the opportunity to raise a warning finger to her lips so that Pan-at-li would no longer betray her, for Pan-at-li indeed stood before him, no less a wonder to her than her presence had been to the girl.
Thus, interrogated by his mistress and at the same time urged by Tarzan to remain silent, Pan-at-li first remained silent and then began to snuggle up from his trouble. “I thought…” he refueled, “but no, I was wrong – I thought he was one I had seen near Kor-ul-gryf before.”
Ho-donitar looked first at one and then at another, a suspicious and questioning look in her eyes. “But you didn’t answer me, stranger,” he continued after a while, “who are you?”
“So you haven’t heard,” crocheted Tarzan, “of the guest who arrived at your king’s court yesterday?”
“You mean,” he exclaimed, “that you are Dor-ul-Otho?” And the newly skeptical eyes reflected a mere fearful reverence.
“I am he,” replied Tarzan; “how about you?”
“I am O-lo-a, A-Ko Tan, daughter of the king,” announced the maid.
This, then, was O-lo-a, whom, in order to love, Ta-den had chosen exile rather than the priesthood, Tarzan had stepped closer to the brutal princess. “Ko-tan’s daughter,” he assured. “Jad-ben-Otho is pleased with you, and as a sign of his favor, he has preserved for you, through many dangers, what you love.”
“I don’t understand,” the girl crocheted, but the red rising to her cheeks drove the words to lie. “Bu-lot is a guest at my father’s palace. I don’t know he’s in any danger. I’ve been engaged to Bu-lot.”
“But you don’t love Bu-lot,” Tarzan pointed out.
Redness again, and the girl turned her face half away. “So have I offended the great god?” he asked.
“Et,” replied Tarzan; “as I said to you, he is very pleased, and for your sake he has spared you a Ta-den.”
“Jad-ben-Otho knows everything,” whispered the girl, “and his son is partaker of his great knowledge.”
“No,” Tarzan hurried to correct so that the reputation of omniscience might not be embarrassing. “I only know what Jad-ben-Otho wants me to know.”
“But tell me,” the princess snorted, “will T-den and me be a couple? Surely the Son of God can read the future.”
The monkey man was pleased to have left himself an escape hole. “I know nothing about the future other than what Jad-ben-Otho is telling me,” he replied. “But I don’t think you have to worry about the future if you stay true to Ta-den and the friends of Ta-den.”
“Have you seen him?” asked O-lo-a. “Tell me, where is he?”
“Yes,” admitted the # Tarzan, “I saw him. He was the Om-ati,
at Kor-ul-jan Gundín.”
“Waz-donien prisoner?” interrupted the girl.
“Not as a prisoner, but as a respected guest,” the monkey explained. “Wait,” he exclaimed, raising his face to the sky; “Don’t talk. I’m just getting the message from Jad-ben-Otho, my father.”
O-lo-a turned questioningly to Pan-at-lin. The latter was a voice shaken with fear, thinking of the appalling intimacy of the great god. After the moment, Tarzan touched O-lo-an’s shoulder.
“Get up,” he said. “Jad-ben-Otho has spoken. He has informed me that this slave girl is from the tribe of Kor-ul-ya with whom Ta-den is, and that she is the bride of their chief Om-ati. Her name is Pan-at- li. ”
O-lo-a turned questioningly to Pan-at-lin. The latter nodded in his simple mind, unable to decide whether or not he and his queen were victims of an immense scam. “That’s what he says,” he whispered.
The princess fell to her knees again and touched Tarzan’s foot with her forehead. “Great is the honor that Jad-ben-Otho has bestowed on his despicable maid,” he exclaimed. “Take him my humble thanks for the happiness he has given to O-lo.”
“My father would please,” Tarzan announced, “if you delivered Pan-at-lin safely returned to his people’s village.”
“What does Jad-ben-Otho care about such things?” asked O-lo-a, a little bragging in his shade.
“There is only one god,” Tarzan explained, “and he is the god of the waz-donis as well as the gods of the ho-donons; birds and beasts and flowers and everything that grows on earth or under water. If Pan-at-li does the right thing, so in the eyes of Jad-ben-Otho she is greater than the daughter of Ko-tan in doing wrong. ”
“May the will of Jad-ben-Otho be done,” said O-lo-a tightly, “if it is in my power. But it would be best, O Dor-ul-Otho, to express your father’s wish directly to the king.”
“So keep him with you,” Tarzan urged, “and see that no harm is done to him.”
O-lo-a your eyes longing for Pan-at. “She wasn’t brought to me until yesterday,” he said, “and I’ve never had a slave who would have liked me better. I’m sorry to part with her.”
“But there are others,” Tarzan recalled.
“Yes,” admitted O-lo-a, “there are others, but only one Pan-at-li.”
“Let’s bring a lot of slaves into town?” Tarzan asked.
“Yes,” replied the princess.
“And strangers from other countries too?” continued another.
O-lo-a shook his head in denial. “Only ho-donons living on the other side of the Jad-ben-Otho valley,” he said, “and they are no strangers.”
“So am I the first stranger to arrive at A-luri?” asked
“Is it possible,” the princess dodged, “that the son of Jad-ben-Othon needs to interrogate such an ignorant mortal park as O-lo-aa?”
“As I said,” Tarzan pointed out, “only Jad-ben-Otho is omniscient.”
“So if he wanted you to know this,”
O-lo-a recalled lightly, “then you would know it.”
In essence, the monkey smiled at the cunning of this little pagan, which produced a defeat for him in his own game; however, the avoidance of that question might have been, in a way, its answer. “So there have been other strangers here recently?” he persisted.
“I can’t tell you what I don’t know,” replied the princess.
“So there’s such talk?” examined Tarzan.
“It was just a rumor that extended to the Forbidden Garden,”
O-lo-a admitted .
“Maybe it depicted a woman of another race?” Asking this question and waiting for the girl to answer, she thought her heartbeat would break, so much meant a possible solution for her.
The girl hesitated. “No,” he then denied, “I can’t talk about this, because if it’s important enough to pique the interest of the gods, I’d really have to experience my father’s rage of tampering with it.”
“In the name of Jad-ben-Otho, I command you to speak,” Tarzan demanded.
“Jad-ben-Othon, who holds the fate of Ta-den!”
The girl turned pale. “Be merciful,” he exclaimed, “and for the sake of Ta-den, I will tell you all I know.”
“Tell me what?” there was a harsh voice from the bush behind them. As they turned, the three saw Ko-tan stand out from among the leaves. The royal facial features had warped into an angry wrinkle, but when he saw Tarzan it turned into a look of fearful wonder. “Dor-ul-Otho!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t know it was you,” and then he said, raising his head and straightening his shoulders, “but there are places where the son of the great god may not walk, and this, the Forbidden Garden of Ko-tan, is such.”
It was a challenge, but in spite of the bold tone of the king, there was a defense in it, showing that in his superstitious mind there was an innate fear of men towards his creator. “Come on, Dor-ul-Otho,” he continued, “I don’t know what all this fussy child must have loitered about you, but whatever you want to know, Ko-tan will give you full clarity. O-lo-a, go to your rooms right away.” , and he pointed with a stern finger at the back of the garden.
The Princess immediately turned and left them to be followed by Pan-at-lin.
“We’re going through this,” said Ko-tan and walking ahead led Tarzan in the other direction. Near the part of the wall they approached, he noticed a cave in the Tarza miniature rock, from the opening of which Ko-tan guided him down a stone staircase to a gloomy corridor; the other end of this opened into the actual palace. Two armed warriors stood at this entrance to the Forbidden Garden, showing how closely the sacred area of the palace was guarded.
Silently, Ko-tan stepped above to his own palace apartment. The great hall just in front of the room to which Ko-tan was taking his guests was full of chiefs and warriors waiting for the orders of their ruler. As the two stepped inside, an alley was formed for them along the entire length of the shelter, along which they stepped wordlessly.
Near the back door and half-hidden by the warriors standing in front of him was High Priest Lu-don. Tarzan noticed him only with a glimpse, but in that brief moment he saw with a cruel face a cunning and malevolent look he covertly perceived as ominous to himself, and then, with Ko-tan, he moved into the next room, and the door curtains fell into place.
At the same time, an ugly main unit of a sub-priest appeared on the door of the outer room. Its owner quickly stopped to look around and then, having invented what he was looking for, quickly approached Lu-don. They discussed in whispers until the high priest ended the negotiation.
“Go back immediately to the princess’s rooms,” he said, “and deliver it to the slave immediately to be sent to me in the temple.” The vice-priest turned and went to his cause, while Lu-don also directed his steps toward the sacred territory he ruled.
After half an hour demonstrated Ko-Tan speak to a warrior. “High Priest Lu-don wants the king to be present in the temple,” he declared, “and it is his wish that the king should come alone.”
Ko-tan nodded to indicate that he had accepted the command that the king had to obey. “I will be back soon, Dor-ul-Otho,” he said to Tarzan, “and in the meantime my warriors and slaves will be at your disposal.”