Free Thongor and the Wizard of Lemuria by Lin Carter

from their holy relic a fragment to be forged into a sword blade.”
    “If the Tsargolans worship this burnt-out star,” Thongor grunted, “they will doubtless have it well guarded.”
    “Aye! It is preserved from desecration in the Scarlet Tower, which rises in the temple precincts near the center of the city and not far from the palace of Drugunda Thal, Sark of Tsargol.”
    “Guarded?”
    “That is the curious thing. No guards are stationed about the Scarlet Tower, nor are any guards—or even the Red Druids—allowed to enter the Tower. It is, insofar as my wizard-glass could see, completely deserted.”
    “It sounds as though removing a portion of the Star Stone should be simplicity itself, then,” Thongor remarked.
    “Perhaps. Entering will be no problem. We shall wait until nightfall and fly over the towers of Tsargol. I shall let you down by a cable into the Tower.”
    * * * *
    For many hours the Nemedis rode the blue skies of Lemuria. The yellow walls of Patanga, City of Fire, fell past beneath them, where it stood at the mouths of the Ysar and the Saan, the Twin Rivers. The floater drove for a time above the great Gulf of Patanga and then entered Ptartha, a vast land of forests and fields with few cities to mar its seemingly endless expanse of greenery.
    By late afternoon they were within sight of the red walls of Tsargol, where it stood beside the thundering shores of Yashengzeb Chun, the Southern Sea. They ate the evening meal and Thongor slept awhile, waiting for the sun to set. As soon as night came down over Lemuria, the Nemedis drifted silently down over Tsargol. Fortunately, it was a cloudy night, with neither moon nor stars to betray them to a watchful eye.
    Sharajsha guided the craft over the domed palace of the Sark and halted it above the Temple Quarter, where the Scarlet Tower rose from dark gardens. The Nemedis was moored to the crimson spire with the sky anchor, a barbed hook at the end of a long line, and by that line Thongor was to descend.
    “Remember, now, although my glass revealed no Tower guard, it is hardly creditable that the Red Druids would leave their sacred treasure totally without protection. Therefore be wary! Much depends upon this venture… Indeed, the future of mankind may very well hang in the balance!” Sharajsha counseled.
    “That may be as it will,” Thongor said grimly as he wrapped his tall form in a black-hooded cloak. “Perhaps the Druids presume it to be too difficult for any trespasser to penetrate the walled gardens of the Quarter, or rely upon religious superstition to protect the relic. However, I have not managed to live as long as this by cultivating carelessness. If there are guards, my steel will feast on their reeking guts!”
    He swung himself over the floater’s deck. Two hundred feet below his heels the dark garden stretched, a blur of gloom. The cool night wind from the sea sang about the taut anchor cable.
    Hand by hand he lowered himself down. One slip and he was as dead as Phondath the Firstborn. The slippery cable was difficult to get a solid grip on, but he moved slowly down. The strain on his shoulders was terrific, but he kept a clear head, breathing calmly and deeply, and before long his booted heels scraped the tiled roof of the Scarlet Tower. This roof was peaked and its conical form forbade foothold. Holding the cable with one hand and the roof edge with the other, he felt with his feet for the window in which the anchor was hooked for a long, timeless moment…
    And found it! He muscled down and slid into a black room. Balanced lightly on the balls of his feet, the broadsword sliding into his hand, he waited for a sound, a stir of movement. Nothing came and he breathed easier. He then gave the cable a single tug, by which Sharajsha was to understand that he entered the Tower without trouble. Now for the Star Stone!
    This top room, he soon ascertained, was completely bare. He felt his way into the hall, equally dark, and down a flight of