Priest Kings of Gor by John Norman

Author:John Norman
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

22: To the Tunnels of the Golden Beetle

I slung the translator on its chain over my shoulder and went to the bars near the door. Putting the torch in my teeth, I began to climb the bars rapidly. One or two of them, rusted through, broke away in my hands, and I was nearly plunged to the rocky floor beneath. The bars were apparently very old and had never been kept in a state of repair or replaced when defective.

When I reached the ceiling I saw, to my relief, that further bars projected downwards from the ceiling and that the bottom of each was bent outwards in a flat, horizontal projection that would afford me a place to put my feet. Still holding the Mul-Torch in my teeth because I wanted both hands free I began to make my way toward Misk, hand and foot, across these metal extensions.

I could see the figures of Mul-Al-Ka and Mul-Ba-Ta beneath me, perhaps a hundred and fifty feet below.

Suddenly one of the extensions, the fourth I believe, slipped with a grating sound from the ceiling and I leaped wildly for the next bar, just managing to catch it in my fall. I heard the other bar drop with a great clang to the floor. For a moment I hung there sweating. My mouth seemed to be filled with carbon and I realized I must have almost bitten through the Mul-Torch.

Then the bar to which I clung moved an inch from the ceiling.

I moved a bit and it slipped another inch.

If I drew myself up on it I was afraid it would fall altogether.

I hung there and it slipped a bit more, perhaps the fraction of an inch.

I swung forward and back on the bar and felt it loosen almost entirely in the ceiling but on the next forward swing I released it and seized the next bar. I heard the bar I had just left slide out and fall like its predecessor to the stone floor below.

I looked down and saw Mul-Al-Ka and Mul-Ba-Ta standing below, looking up. Concern for me was written on their faces. The two fallen bars lay almost at their feet.

The bar to which I now clung seemed relatively stable and with relief I drew myself up onto it, and then stepped carefully to the next.

In a moment I stood by Misk's side.

I took the Mul-Torch out of my mouth and spit out some particles of carbon. I lifted the torch and looked at Misk.

He, hanging there upside down, reflected in the blue torchlight, regarded me calmly.

“Greetings, Tarl Cabot,” said Misk.

“Greetings, Misk,” I said.

“You were very noisy,” said Misk.

“Yes,” I said.

“Sarm should have had those bars checked,” said Misk.

“I suppose so,” I said.

“But it is difficult to think of everything,” said Misk.

“Yes, it is,” I agreed.

“Well,” said Misk. “I think perhaps you should get busy and kill me now.”

“I do not even know how to go about it,” I said.

“Yes,” said Misk, “it will be difficult, but with perseverance I think it may be accomplished.

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