Table of Contents

FOREWORD: Apologia To Doc...

CHAPTER 1: Terror in the Night

CHAPTER 2: Death on the 86th Floor

CHAPTER 3: The Remarkable Countess

CHAPTER 4: The Perilous Sky

CHAPTER 5: Revelations

CHAPTER 6: Discoveries!

CHAPTER 7: The Deadly Trap

CHAPTER 8: Of Love and Magick

CHAPTER 9: Danger on Two Fronts

CHAPTER 10: Nightstalker

CHAPTER 11: Doc to the Rescue!

CHAPTER 12: Into the Arms of Death!

CHAPTER 13: Doc's Dead!

CHAPTER 14: Horror in the Morning!

CHAPTER 15: Doc's Aides Take Over!

CHAPTER 16: Doc's Choice

CHAPTER 17: The Deadly General

CHAPTER 18: The Death of a Legend

CHAPTER 19: The Lie

CHAPTER 20: The Storm

EPILOGUE

Alternate covers by Paty Cockrum:

DEATH’S DOMAIN

Artwork and Story By Paty Cockrum

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

DEATH’S DOMAIN

The Doc Savage characters are the property of Conde Nast.  All text and images are  © 1999 by Paty Cockrum and may not be copied without her express written permission.

Cover design by Paty Cockrum.

FOREWORD: Apologia To Doc...

I hope the time is past when the publication of this story might cause you problems.  I think it imperative that the world know not only the super-human side of you -- but the human side, as well.

The story which follows is a novelization of entries in a journal that can only have been yours.  It was found by my own adventuring father somewhere in the Arctic.  Dad never really knew what to make of the the entries.  They were obviously written as fact...but seemed like just so much wild fiction.  He had never read Kenneth Robeson's novels of your life.

I had.  When the diary was passed to me, I took one look at the precision-fineness of the script and muttered "This is Doc Savage's own handwriting...or I'm Monk's uncle!"

And so it has turned out to be!  There are many entries that are too personal for sharing with the multitudes...but some of the facts of your private life should be published!

I hope you don't mind...these revelations will only make us understand and love you more, Doc.

CHAPTER 1: Terror in the Night

It was a turbulent night.  The moon was a waxing sliver of light, spangling the restless trees with silver.  Clouds scudded across the sky. The wind moaned through the convoluted hillsides, whipping branches and bushes in its fury.

The branches, partially denuded of their leaves by the torrent of wind, reached out like gnarled fingers to pluck at the garments of the running man.  They slowed him as he tried desperately to push through them.

Had anyone been watching, they would have seen that the man was terrified!  His eyes rolled and searched the semi-darkness behind him.  No one was watching.  No one saw the great, dark shape that hovered over him.

The man looked up and saw the thing.  It was large and black and had eyes of fire that burned into the man's face.  One could have seen his features reflecting the flickering light of those crimson orbs.

The thing hung motionless for a second; then, with fiendish intent, it dived at the fleeing man.

With a screech, he threw himself off the side of an undercut hill.  Cascading dirt and rock rolled with him to the bottom of the cut.

The lights of a town twinkled in a nearby valley.  If he could make it to the town he would be safe!  He looked at the sky and despaired.  The monstrous black thing had swung around and was between him and the safety of the houses.

A leathery swishing noise came from the thing as it came nearer.  The sound lent wings to the terrified man's feet.  There was nowhere to go but backwards -- into the darkness of the forest!  He turned and fled!

"Get away from me!"  the man whimpered.  "Begone, demon!"  He ducked and ran moaning into the night as the black form dove towards him.

The very wind in the hills seemed to laugh...a low and wicked laugh.

The man screamed once as the black form enveloped him.  Then, all was silent.  The ebon shape soon floated away into the night sky.

By the time the wolves found the body, it was cold.  They sniffed it once and backed away.  This was unusual, for these scavengers would consume virtually any dead thing found in the woods.  For them to pass up and easy meal was against all the laws of nature.  A woodman watching them would have been dumbfounded.

The man had almost made it to the safety of the nearby town before the great ebon shape had caught him.  His body's proximity to civilization was probably why the corpse was discovered lat the next day by a passing tourist.

The tourist notified the local constabulary, which in turn notified the central government of the small Balkan country.  By sundown, officials were swarming over the area.  This was not the first time this had happened!  There were several bodies in the local morgue -- all collected within the last half-year.  All were strangers, whose bodies were unclaimed and who would stay at the morgue until the cases were closed as unsolved and unsolvable.

The bodies had another thing in common -- the throat of each had literally been ripped to shreds!

Since the body had been discovered by a tourist passing through the area, it could not simply be ignored.  The tourist's squawkings had brought scores of concerned dignitaries from the capitol city.

"Six uff dem...und in less den haff a year!  You see, Countess, ve must really call in help.  This is very, very mysterious und frightening!"  The plump, balding man wiped his brow.  He was perspiring even in the cool evening air of the mountains.

"But...General Tepesh of your own Militia and his troops have been investigating..."

"Und getting nowheres!  Dey haf been here for at least six months -- und der murders still happen!  Ve need der expert on strangnesses!  I haf given it much thought, und I know just who can do der job!  But...he is so far avay!"

"Not a foreigner, I hope!"  The woman's large, dark eyes became cold.  "All a paid adventurer ever does is exploit the country he pretends to save!"

"He is an American..."

"Ah!  They are the worst!  Surely," the pacing woman said, "Surely there is another way!"

"No, Madame...it appears ve haf no udder choice.  I vill leaf tomorrow for America, where I will contact dis person.  He has a very goot reputation for solving vierd mysteries!  It is his profession!"

"Humph!  And how much will he demand for these great services?  Will you bring someone here to exploit and bankrupt us?"

"No, no!"  The pompous little man smiled a cherubic smile.  "Dis man does not charge for his services unless people can vell afford to pay.  But, since dis province is fairly vealthy, I vould suspect he vill ask for his regular fee."

"And that is..."

"Oh, dat ve build a charity hospital for der poor, und establish a trust fund to see to its continued maintenance."

The woman's eyebrows shot skyward.  "His USUAL fee...is this?"

"Yes, Madame, he has done this quite often in various spots around der world.  I haf researched dis man carefully.  Belief me, he vill not do our country any harm."

The woman considered.  "Wilhelm, you know that I am considered a fairly good judge of human nature...

The man bobbed assent, and the woman continued.

"Let me come with you," she said, "and meet this...paragon of yours.  If he is an exploiter I shall know it immediately, and we shall look elsewhere for help.  If he is, however, all you seem to think he is, I will offer him the use of my estate in his investigations.  Fair enough?"

"Countess, Countess, dat is vhat I hoped you vould say!"  The little man was overjoyed.

"Very well, but do give me a few days to find out what I can about this fellow."

"Uff course, uff course!  Ve vill put off goink to America until next veek sometime.  I vill call you about der trip later."  He gathered his retinue about him and departed, having given her the name of the man they were to contact.

The tall, regal woman in black watched him go.  A tiny frown creased her forehead.

"I am not sure this is wise," said a silky voice beside her.

"Yes, Radu, I know.  I do not like the idea of bringing in foreigners.  They are always disruptive -- and rarely of any real use!  I am, however, rather intrigued by an adventurer who refuses payment unless it is in the form of charitable services or institutions!"

"Humph!  Is the man an adventurer or a philanthropist?  The two do not seem go go together.  And what does he get out of it?  Every man gets something out of his profession!"

"We shall see, Radu."  The woman was icily serious.  "If the Premier is bound and determined to bring this person here, perhaps it is best that he be encouraged to use my home as his base of operations.  In that way we can keep an eye on him.  Then, we shall see just what kind of man is this...Doc Savage!"

CHAPTER 2: Death on the 86th Floor

The night was dark and wild with the fury of the thunderstorm that flooded the streets of the city.  Jagged bolts of lightning lit up the imposing spike of steel, glass and brick that jutted nearly a hundred stories into the turbulent Manhattan air.  It was the middle of the night and most offices in the great edifice were dark, but to anyone high enough to notice, light streamed from a large window on the eighty-sixth floor.  Draperies covered all but a four foot wide section of the window, and this section framed the perfectly proportioned figure of a man!

The man at the window was huge, massive!  Great cables of sinew roped his hands and arms.  Other muscles, equally developed, covered his giant frame.  They were graceful, fluid, not the knotty, grotesque over development of the professional weight-lifter or muscle-man.  They spoke of controlled, quiet, unequalled power!  They looked as if they had been sculpted in molten bronze, so deeply had tropic suns tanned the giant's skin.  His hair was a skull-cap of slightly darker bronze.  The most remarkable thing about the man, however, was his eyes.  They were twin pools of flake gold that looked as if they were being constantly stirred by restless winds.  They danced and swirled as they watched the pyrotechnic display of the elements.

"A magnificent evening, Doc."

"Yes..."

The response was barely more than a whisper, yet so vibrant with controlled power that Johnny smiled.  "What an orator or a politician could do with a voice like that!" he mused.

William Harper Littlejohn, 'Johnny' to his friends, had known the imposing figure at the window for many full, adventurous years, and yet -- as he watched 'Doc' -- he wondered if he or any of his friends really knew Clark Savage Jr.  Funded by a hidden cache of ancient Mayan gold, Doc Savage was the supreme adventurer -- going round the world in a tireless quest to right wrongs, help the oppressed and punish evildoers!  In so doing, he involved himself and his five aides -- Johnny, Brigadier General Theodore Marley Brooks, Lieutenant Colonel Andrew Blodgett Mayfair, Colonel John Renwick, and Major Thomas J. Roberts -- in various world-shattering plots that would someday, Johnny was sure, get them all killed!  But would any of them give up following Doc into danger?  Not on your life!!  Their professions were but part-time jobs they pursued while awaiting Doc's call to adventure!

As for their professions, Johnny was an eminent professor of archaeology and geology.  he had taught at a major New England college and had led several successful 'digs' in obscure corners of the world.  He was one of the foremost authorities in his field, and acknowledged only a few masters...one of which was the bronze marvel at the window! If anyone knew more about archaeology and geology than Johnny, it was Doc Savage!

Theodore Marley (Ham) Brooks was one of the most astute lawyers Harvard had ever produced.  His one consuming passion was his wardrobe.  He was the snappiest dresser New York City had ever seen!  Tailors followed him down the street to see clothes worn as they should be worn.  Lithe and waspish, his jaunty frame was just the thing to show off the latest styles.  He was also a terror in a fight.  Besides being an accomplished fighter, he carried a black sword cane that was daubed with a potent anesthetic.  One prick of the skin with this implement of death would result not in death, but in a prolonged repose.  He, too, acknowledged but one master in his profession -- Doc Savage!

Andrew Blodgett (Monk) Mayfair lived up to his nickname.  He was two hundred and fifty pound of gorilla-shaped human!  As wide as he was high, Monk's muscular development was the only one of the five aides that came close to equaling Doc's.  His face was something to scare children with...until he smiled, which he did often.  His forehead was so tiny one would think there wasn't room for a thimbleful of brains behind it.  This hid the fact that Monk was one of the foremost chemical geniuses of his day.  His major passions in life were adventuring with Doc, making life miserable for Ham, and chasing girls (not necessarily in that order all the time).  Monk, the girl-chaser bowed to no man as his superior; Monk, the industrial chemist and adventurer, bowed to one -- Doc Savage!

John (Renny) Renwick was the team's engineering marvel.  His talents as an engineer were in demand around the world.  He often grumbled that his profession left him precious little time to go adventuring with Doc.  His grumbling was always done in a great gobbling voice that rumbled like thunder.  His other major attributes were his hands.  These were huge!  It was Renny's greatest joys to use them to knock out the panels of wooden doors.  he claimed there wasn't a door made that could withstand him! He would prove this any time he got a chance, so Doc had finally cut his expenses by installing steel doors in his 86th floor offices!  Renny also acknowledged but one master in his engineering profession and in his fighting abilities...Doc Savage!

The physical weakling of the group was Thomas (Long Tom) Roberts.  Long Tom looked like a funeral about to happen.  Pale and sickly appearing, Long Tom could lick his weight in wildcats!  When he was mad, even the other members of the group stayed out of his way!  He was one of the world's greatest electrical wizards, commanding outrageous fees for his services.  Possibly the only person on Earth who knew more about electricity than Long Tom was his leader...Doc Savage!

Johnny's thought swung back to the man at the bullet-proof window.  Doc was what Johnny would have called 'away'...his body here in the 86th floor office, his intellect -- mind -- soul -- call it what you will -- out there, riding the winds of the storm...being one with the elemental power that sprayed the heavens with crackling energy and that rumbled like massive chariot wheels through the deserted streets.  Doc would have denied this -- he was a scientific person, and 'astral projection' wasn't exactly a scientific area.  Doc didn't believe in the 'mystic sciences'.

Johnny wasn't really sure whether he, himself, did or did not believe.  His delving into ancient civilizations and cultures had shown him enough to convince him that there was often something of truth in the belief that weird things -- unexplainable things -- could affect one's life.  Mysticism and women -- Doc didn't understand either.  They were the only real 'blind spots' in an otherwise walking encyclopedia!

Through intensive study, Doc had become a master of virtually every known scientific field.  He often had simultaneous experiments going in such widely divergent fields as chemistry and electronics.  He was as knowledgeable in engineering as he was in geology and archaeology.  He spoke hundreds of dialects in scores of languages fluently.  His amazing memory contained maps of every major city on the globe -- and hundreds of minor ones.  He had an unfailing sense of time and direction.  His senses, through daily training and exercise, were attuned to the fineness and sensitivity of an animal's.   He was a mental -- as well as a physical -- marvel!

Doc's real field, of course, was medicine.  He was the topmost physician-surgeon of his day.  He had trained hundreds of skilled surgeons and fine doctors.  He had pioneered many life-saving surgical techniques.  His experiments in preventive medicine rivaled those in curative medicine.  He had, on occasion, literally brought people back from the very portals of death!

He had a hidden laboratory in the Arctic fastnesses to which he periodically disappeared to do research.  Once in this 'Fortress of Solitude', he could not be reached or disturbed by anyone.  From it, weeks or months later, he would emerge  with a cure for a deadly disease...or a new surgical technique that would save thousands of lives...or a new invention that would revolutionize engineering designs...or a new theorem that would upset previously held scientific principles...or...

The bronze subject of Johnny's mental perambulations turned from the window.

"We have visitors."  Doc indicated the blinking warning light on the wall.  A moment later, a raucous argument from the hallway informed them who the 'visitors' were.

"Dang it, shyster!  What are you doing here at this hour?"

"None of your business, you misbegotten ape!  I suppose you have a good reason for being here too!"

"Yeah, I need a couple chemicals for an experiment and I know Doc has some in his lab.  I can't get 'em anywhere else this time of night!"

"Hruumph!" snorted the second voice, "Just like you...to run out of things and have to sponge off Doc!"

The door opened to admit two of the most mis-matched individuals in the world.  One was a sartorially resplendent wasp of a man -- the other, a burly red-haired being who resembled, more than anything else, a gorilla!

"Ahh, Doc...might I borrow a certain legal tome that my library seems to be lacking...?"

"Sponging, huh?  Doc...uhh...could I..."

"You both know where the lab and the library are."  Doc smiled absently to himself as he turned to the window.  Doc's lab and library were known to be one of the most complete in the world.

"Right!"  Monk shook himself like a giant dog and water cascaded in every direction.   "Outta my way, shyster, I got something important cookin'..."

"Watch it you refugee from a Salvation Army reject pile!"  Ham gathered his immaculate suit about him and made a beeline for the library/laboratory door.  Monk sloshed after him and the unending argument moved into the next room.

"If you didn't know they were best friends, you'd think they were ready to kill each other, " Johnny murmured.  "Uh oh...more visitors!  This seems to be Grand Central Station tonight!"

The warning light was once again flashing!

Doc flicked a switch and amplified sounds from the corridor were broadcast from a box on his desk.

"Ahh, come Madame, dis vey I belief..."  Two sets of footfalls advenced on the office door.  One obviously a man; the other, the rustling, silken sounds of a woman's passage.

There was a rap on the door, and at a nodded indication from Doc, Johnny got up and crossed the room to open the door...pondering as he went.

"Nebulous...that's what Doc's been all evening...ever since that phone call earlier!  Hruumph!  That's really uncharacteristic!"  He glanced at the bronze figure at the window.  "I wonder," he thought, "if this means another stint at the 'Fortress'..."

He opened the door and was instantly transfixed by the eyes of the most unbelievably beautiful woman he'd ever seen.  They were pools of blackness that Johnny felt he could drown in!  Only Doc's eyes were more hypnotic than these...

"Sir...Sir...Ve vish to speak, perhaps, mit der Herr Savage.  You are not he...yes?  No?"  The man's voice broke the spell of her eyes and Johnny was jerked back to reality.  A slight chill ran down his spine.  "Oh, God!" he thought, "What she's going to do to Ham and Monk!"

Typically, Johnny had not given any thought to the woman's effect on Doc.  Doc was female-proof!  Many adventures with a score of beauties had proved this.  Doc considered females a liability in his profession.  They were always getting themselves captured and had to be rescued!  The exception, of course, was Pat, Doc's look-alike cousin.  Pat was an adventuress extraordinaire who often intruded in Doc's adventures...much to his chagrin!  She had even, occasionally, proved to be valuable!  She had saved Doc's skin and the skins of his men on more than one occasion!  Doc still wouldn't let her join the group!

The short, balding, bewhiskered man had pushed through the door.  He obviously considered himself something of an important person, for he took one look around the sumptuous office and marched straight over to Doc.

"Herr Savage...I presume?"

"Good evening, Premier Von Thuroczy."  Doc's powerfully modulated tones brought the little man up short.  "How may we help you?"

"Ahhh...you know me!  Goot!  You perhaps guess vhy ve haf come...yes, no?   My country has need uf you!  Dere is trouble in our land!  Strange people...no one knows dem or from where dey come, are found killed in our hills!  Der deaths are horrible und very mysterious!  Dere is political unrest...der peasants are uneasy about der deaths...und udder tings!  You must come!  Moldania is small country, but strategically important to Europe just now.  Ve must maintain our neutrality or var in Europe is possible!"

Doc's face was impassive as he listened to the balkan dignitary.  His gaze travelled the length of the room to the woman standing just outside his office.  The Premier's voice suddenly seemed to come from very far away...

"Der center uf dis activity is in an area near our borders that is the ancestral fief of der Countess Aldea...und she had graciously consented for you und your men to use her home as your headquarters if you vill come und help us!"  As he spoke this last, he gestured to the woman who stood still framed by the door Johnny was holding open.

Doc crossed to the door.  He reached out, bowing slightly, to take the woman's cool, pale hand.  As Johnny looked on with widening eyes, Doc raised her hand to his lips.  Then he spoke in her native dialect.  "Do not be afraid, Madame...come in...we will not harm you."

Johnny's eyes formed saucers!  Doc wasn't one to stand on formalities, and this was high court formality of a bygone era!

"Doctor Savage, you are kind and far too honorable to harm any who have come to you for help.  Please speak your native tongue...I perceive that possibly your men might not understand our language."  She allowed Doc to lead her to the great leather chair Johnny has vacated.

If Doc was surprised that the woman spoke excellent English without a trace of an accent, it did not show in his face.  He took her slightly steamy hooded cape which had enveloped her from neck to ankles.

Monk and Ham, drawn by the sound of a female voice, stood at the library door, their eyes popping a the raven beauty of the regal woman in black silk and lace.  They were both connoisseurs of female beauty, and this one topped anything they had yet seen!

The Countess affected the dress of a much earlier epoch.  Raven curls piled high on her head.  Rich black lace framed an ivory neck and dropped to a daring décolletage.  Her dress was of black silk and fell completely to the floor, while the lace at her cuffs almost covered her pale, delicate hands.  Her skin was pure ivory and her lips were full and naturally flushed.  A single ruby lay in the hollow of her neck and  cast red reflections in the dark, aureate pools of her eyes.

"Madame...Premier...my associates...Professor Littlejohn, Mr. Mayfair and Mr. Brooks."  Doc made introductions.

"I think I'm in love!" squeaked a small voice that no one would have believed could have come from the massive hulk that was Monk.

"But what will your wife and thirteen idiot children say?" drawled the immaculate being beside him.

"Don't you start those lies again you overdressed shyster..."

"Enough, you two!"  Doc's voice held a note of irritation that sobered the two friends immediately.  Doc rarely reprimanded them for their bickering...so, something was definitely up!

Johnny's eyebrows shot up as he closed the door.  For Doc to snap at Monk and Ham like that only reinforced his former observation that Doc was uncharacteristically moody this evening.  Perhaps it was the thunderstorm...the barometric fluctuations that accompany such phenomenon were known to affect some people's moods.  Doc usually kept himself under tighter control, though.  Johnny glanced out the window.  The thunderstorm was still raging, electricity playing about the natural lightning rod that the building formed.  For a moment, the better part of the room was reflected in the inch-thick glass...then, suddenly, the glass crazed as the window was pelted with high caliber bullets!

Hidden by the storm, a war plane was strafing the 86th floor!

Doc's bronze-cabled hand hit a switch and the office was plunged into darkness!  Another switch closed the draperies completely -- thus blocking any exterior view of the room or its occupants.

"Monk...Ham...get the Premier and the Countess into the library where they'll be safe!" thundered Doc's voice as the hallway warning light flashed again!

There was a sudden noise of running feet from the hall...then blasts of tommygun fire and bloodcurdling shrieks!

Then...silence.

Doc whipped through the library and lab to a specially constructed panel that opened on the elevator corridor.  He silently eased it open...and was numbed by what he saw!

In the corridor lay fully half-a-dozen large, swarthy gunmen...with their throats torn out!

CHAPTER 3: The Remarkable Countess

Six dead men in the hallway...their throats torn out...with no apparent aggressor!

Doc surveyed the corridor.  Strategically placed mirrors allowed him to ascertain that no one else lurked in the hall.  He quickly moved to the elevator banks.  A manual control hidden behind an ornamental plate allowed him to seal the elevator car and hold it at his floor.  That car was going nowhere until Doc released it!

Next, he checked the nearest stairwell.  Chemicals scattered over the floor of the landing fluoresced from having been recently disturbed.  Doc checked the direction of the disturbance and decided that this was how the six gunmen had entered the 86th floor.  There was no sign of anyone having used this as an exit route.  A second stairwell showed no signs of disturbance at all!  Whoever...or whatever...had torn the throats out of six burly gunmen was trapped in the elevator!

Doc turned to the hidden control panel.  A quarter-turn of one dial dropped the elevator cage one length.  Now the ceiling of the cage was level with the floor.  A flick of a certain switch opened the corridor doors -- allowing Doc to look into the elevator cage from a cleverly concealed one-way panel in its roof.

Suddenly, a weird trilling noise permeated the 86th floor.  It rose and fell like the haunting song of some exotic bird.  It seemed to come from nowhere in particular...and everywhere in general.  It shimmered in the hall like a vibrating question mark!  It was the small unconscious thing Doc did when he was thinking.  Often in tight spots it would bring hope to his beleaguered associates.  Doc was near!  Victory or rescue was at hand!  Occasionally it would mark Doc's assimilation of an important piece of information.  Only rarely did it lift as a note of complete puzzlement.  Tonight was one of those rare occasions!

The elevator car was empty!

Doc re-inspected the hall and stairwells.  There was no way the murderer could have gotten away undetected...yet apparently that was exactly what had happened!  Unless...of course...one believed in ghosts!  Doc didn't.  He was a scientist of the first water!

He turned to the bodies of the gunmen.  A more gruesome sight he had rarely seen.  Searching their pockets, he found papers to indicate these men were all citizens of  a country bordering Moldania.  The attack plotted by these men and abetted by the plane was obviously to silence the Premier and the Countess!

Having assimilated all the information the corpses could offer, Doc returned to his lab.

In the library, he stopped at a desk containing a battery of phones...picked one up and was soon talking with police headquarters.  He informed them of the attack on his offices and requested morgue attendants be sent over to claim the bodies.  Since Doc held a high honorary appointment in the police force, this was accomplished with a minimum of red tape.

He turned to his aides and their visitors.  "Wait here while I check the reception room."

The Countess stepped over and laid a cool hand on his arm.  "Dr. Savage...I believe you will find the plane has departed...in a northeasterly direction...if I am not mistaken."

Doc's eyebrows arched a question at her.

"I have very keen hearing...a genetic gift from my forebears, no doubt."  She answered his unvoiced query.   "It makes up for my being practically blind in brightly lit areas."

Doc swung around, lifted her chin and examined her eyes.  She apparently had no irises...the dark pools that had so hypnotized Johnny were wide open pupils!

"You can see perfectly in the darkness, can't you?"

"Yes...a genetic affliction I have lived with all my life.  It is the reason we requested an evening appointment when we called earlier.  Any exposure to the sun would instantly blind me...so my days are spent in shrouded rooms and my evenings are as your daylight hours."

"Wow!" interjected Monk.  "No wonder we lost you in the reception room!  Y'know, Doc, by the time we found the Premier in the darkness, the Countess was already in the library doorway!  We couldn't figure how she moved through that blackness so quickly!  She sees just like a cat!"

They returned to the reception room where Doc turned on a few muted lights.  A touch on a hidden switch dimmed the lights to a twilight intensity.  The Countess smiled her gratitude.

"Vhat vas der disturbance in der hall, iff I may ask?"  The Premier was obviously shaken by the rapid pace of events.  His somewhat chubby fingers fluttered to a handkerchief which he used to mop his perspiring forehead.

Doc told him.

The Premier sat down with a nervous thump.  "You vill come now?  Please?  Our very lives are not safe now!"

The Countess soothed him.  "Oh, you'll be safe enough when you're back at the capitol, Wilhelm.  The subversive activity hasn't penetrated that far yet.  It is my fiefdom that's over-run with spies and dead men!"  She turned to Doc.  "You will help us...won't you, sir?"

"Yes...we will take this case.  There are already several aspects of it that have piqued my curiosity," Doc murmured.

"Ahh, good!  Then perhaps this will help."  The Countess reached into her bosom and extracted a neatly folded piece of paper.  It was a small, concise map of a part of Eastern Europe.  "you will note the longitudinal and latitudinal co-ordinates I have marked on the edge.  This," she pointed to a small body of water, "is a lake situated next to my home.  At the southeastern end is a dock and facilities for quartering a sea-plane or float plane, if you choose that method of entering our country."

Doc nodded.

"Very well!  Whenever you arrive, you will find an automobile waiting, for which here are the keys."  She laid a set of keys on the desk.  "As long as you are in our land, it is yours...to use as you wish.  I am sure Wilhelm can get you full police and military co-operation in any of your endeavors."

The Premier's head bobbed an affirmative.  He seemed to be glad to let the Countess handle the details.  It was obvious that she was much more organized than he was.

"We do not have many passable roads, so you may wish to make use of my stables.  They and the rest of my house are at your disposal.  Wilhelm and I are flying back to Mondania tomorrow night in my private plane.  When may we expect you...and can we do anything to expedite your arrival?"  The Countess turned her dark, magnetic eyes on the four adventurers who surrounded her.

Doc broke the silence.  "We have a few things to clear up here first..."  Monk and Ham nodded quick assent.   "...however, I think we'll be able to leave in about two days.  I may or may not have two more associates with me...depending on what they're doing right now."

The Countess smiled.  "You may bring a small army if you wish.  I have but one request to make of you.  Could you please..." she pointed a regal finger at the still dripping, sodden hulk that was Monk, "...clean this one up a bit before you bring him?"

Monk's face fell five floors!

Johnny doubled over with mirth.  His laughter boomed around the room.  Ham's face beamed!  He marched over to the Countess and, in his most courtly manner, began raining kisses on her hands.  "Madame, your taste is impeccable!"  He was beside himself with joy!  Monk always seemed to have a jump on Ham with regards to women...but this time was different!  Ham's thoughts raced to courtly romantic interludes.

He might not have seemed so sure of himself had he seen the swirling gold flakes of Doc's eyes melting to liquid amber as the corners of his mouth tugged in a barely restrained grin.

Monk noticed...and consoled himself with the thought that it was going to be a very interesting adventure!

CHAPTER 4: The Perilous Sky

"You fools -- you've bungled everything so far!" the oily voice sneered.  "You have only one more chance!"  The telephone line crackled ominously.

"It is a certainty that he and his five aides will never reach Mondania!" a gravelly voice replied.  "We have taken great pains to ascertain which of his craft is to be used for the flight.  We have cleverly hidden a bomb aboard which will be detonated by a special radio signal when they are over the ocean.  They will simply disappear -- and no one will know where!"

"Excellent!"  The voice on the Trans-Atlantic connection modulated to a refined purr.  "I will proceed with my plans here.  Soon we shall have all the finances we will need for our activities!  You are sure that they will not find the bomb?"

"No, they will not!  We gained access to the plane under guise of being hangar repairmen.  Some crates of equipment were being loaded, and during a lunch break we secreted the bomb in a crate that had already been inspected.  We watched -- it was stowed under several other boxes.  It is not likely that it will be disturbed until..." the voice gave an evil chuckle.

"We must be certain!  I have heard of this man, Savage!  He is a Demon!  He has escaped many who have sought his death!"  The first speaker thought for a moment.  "You must use your plane to follow his and observe the explosion.  Do not let him see you, for he would become suspicious!  Make sure there are no survivors!"

"Very good, Sir...we shall report when our mission has been accomplished!"  The line went dead as the connection was broken.

Gravel-voice turned to his companions.  "Quickly," he said, "we must ready the plane, since we are to observe first-hand the death of this Master of Escapes!"  He singled out one of his accomplices.  "You, Svorza, must watch and make certain all five aides and Doc Savage himself enter the plane.  Report to me any deviation from this...any deviation...you understand?"

"Yes Sir!"  The man picked up powerful binoculars and a compact two-way radio and headed for his post.  He was obviously a professional at this sort of thing, and nothing would escape his notice!

It was a gray, nasty dawn...promising to get nastier.  Wisps of fog blew across the runway of the small Long Island airport.  A sedate, bronze-colored automobile rolled to a hangar constructed apart from the two or three main hangars.

In front of the building, a large amphibious plane was being warmed up.  It was an older plane, with no special markings; a sturdy, sensible plane for long air trips, with the ability to land on water as well as land.  It was well suited for landing on a mountain lake.

The well-camouflaged man shifted in the bushes that bordered the airport land.  He had, with the aid of his high-powered binoculars, a perfect view of the plane and the path it would use to taxi and take to the air.  The fog was getting worse...at times partially obscuring the field.

"Only a madman would pick a morning like this to start a long trans-Atlantic flight."  The skulker was glad he was on the ground and his comrades were aloft!

His field glasses swept the area.  A mass of men boiled from the car.  "Ahh, yes...Renwick, Roberts, the ugly one if Mayfair...there's the archaeologist, Littlejohn...Brooks..."  He checked small photos taped to a card before him.  His gaze returned to the auto.  From the driver's side came a magnificent man.  The gray light gleamed dully off his bronze skin.  While the others wore heavy jackets and caps, this man wore less.  He was unencumbered -- ready for action!  He approached the group and it was only then -- when he could be compared with the others -- that one could truly gauge the Herculean dimensions of his body.

"Doc Savage!"  The spy's voice was a hiss of hate...and awe.  "I am glad you will soon be unable to move against us!"  He squirmed uneasily at the thought of what this bronze juggernaut could do.

The men made for the plane and clambered aboard, Doc pausing to direct one of the attendants in the obvious disposal of the car.  There seemed to be a problem and Doc and the attendant disappeared into an adjoining office shack.  Ignoring the plane, the spy kept sharp watch on the building.  After a while, the two men returned.  Savage climbed into the cockpit and taxied through the thickening fog to the runway.

The airport was a small, but busy, one and Doc's plane waited until several small craft ahead of him had cleared the field.  Then, with a roar of its three powerful engines, it took smoothly to the sky...disappearing into the fog.

"They are all on the plane, and it has just departed."  The spy smirked evilly at the radio set.

"We are picking them up...ahh, we have them, now!" crackled back out of the ether.  "meet us at Headquarters."  The set went dead.

The two planes headed East.

Later, somewhere between Long Island and Greenland, a great ball of fire blossomed in the sky, and what was left of a large amphibian plane plunged to the cold Atlantic waves.  A smaller plane circled the sinking wreckage for some time...then headed East.

Another plane, one of several that had quit the field previous to the amphibian, hovered just out of sight...and promptly turned West the first plane went East.

A booming voice thundered through the air waves, and few listening in could have understood a word of its message...for the message was spoken in ancient Mayan!  It was the language Doc Savage's men used when they wanted their information confidential!

"You were right, Doc...the plane was picked up and followed.  It was blown to bits a short while ago.  Those guys are thorough if nothing else...they circled for an hour looking for survivors. As far as they're concerned, we're dead as doornails!"

"All right, Renny.  Come on home and we'll leave safely this time."

"Ha!" snorted Monk, "I'll bet those clowns would never have believed that the plane was being flown from an auxiliary control in another plane!"  Under cover of the fog, Doc's men had dropped into the high grass beneath the plane as soon as Doc had engaged the attendant in a discussion.  Renny and Ham had crept through the high grass to another plane waiting nearby and had been ready to precede the big amphibian off the field.  Monk, Johnny and Long Tom had melted into the shadows of the nearby hangar and had circled around to ready an unobtrusive black sedan that waited at the back of the hangar.  It was child's play for Doc to taxi the plane to the end of the runway and drop out of the plane as it made its turn to get into take-off position.  Monk smiled.  "A nice piece of surrogate pilotin' on Ham's and Renny's part!" he said.

Doc cast a sideways glance at the gorilloid specimen beside him.  Monk jumped, realizing his tactical blunder.

"I didn't say that...and I'll deny it if you tell Ham I did!"

Doc chuckled and proceeded to load another crate into the new, four motored amphibious giant that reposed in this Manhattan waterfront hangar.  The other plane had been old and ready to be replaced anyway.  It had more than served its purpose in its capacity of 'decoy'.  Now the Savage team could reach Mondania without further interference.  It wasn't mere luck that had made him personally check the plane the night before.  Nor was it mere luck that he had found the bomb and decided that those planting it would probably be watching.  It was good sense to let them think that their plan had succeeded.  The natural fog had been a bonus of the morning, eliminating a more elaborate plan Doc had had of r getting both him and his aides out of the former craft without anyone being the wiser.

Long hours and several refueling stops later found them over the mountain fastnesses of Mondania.  Doc had taken his two-hour stint of exercises while others of the group flew the plane.  These exercises, pitting muscle against muscle until a fine sheen of perspiration covered his body, juggling difficult equations in his head, identifying unlabeled odors, reading Braille to sharpen his tactile senses, and other intricate maneuvers, were a daily routine with Doc.  Started when he was but a child, these exercises were one of the reasons Doc's physical condition exceeded any known athlete's perfection...why his endurance was so great...why his concentration in times of stress was so pure! It made Monk sweat profusely just to watch Doc at these exercises!

Doc was at the controls when the treacherous air currents of the Moldanian mountains buffeted the plane.  He guided it in a swinging arc to land on a crystal lake whose beauty took one's breath away! Mist-shrouded mountains rose in convoluted splendor from the timbered edges of the water.  Twilight lit the whole scene with an eerie glow, haloing a large, medieval castle that hovered, vulture-like, on a sheer cliff above the lake.

At the southeastern corner of the lake was a modern hangar-dock...well equipped to handle a plane as large as Doc's.  The caretaker and his young assistant who met the plane were genuinely pleased that the plane had arrived.  They showed no indication, to Doc's keen, observing eye, that they were surprised at the arrival of the American plane.  Obviously they were not a part of the plan to kill Savage and his men!  Doc left the plane in their care with a lighter mind, after arranging for the transfer of the equipment to the castle.

The car the Countess had left for them was sleek and elegant.  The interior was posh, leather upholstery and wood paneling, while an immensely powerful motor throbbed beneath the hood.  Doc put it through its paces on the drive to the castle.  He knew the performance potential of every vehicle he owned...and if his life, or the lives of his friends, depended on a car's performance (as it often did) he wanted to know what that machine could do!  This one did everything he asked -- with power to spare!  The Countess had given them the very best.  Doc smiled.  His assessment of her personality was confirmed.

The castle was old...a soaring fortress of stone.  Its windows were mere slits, high in the walls.  Easily defend in in medieval times, they would make a gloomy interior in a less warlike era.

Monk shuddered.  "I'm not sure I'm gonna like all that stone around me...it's probably cold, dark and dank in there!" he mumbled.  Claustrophobia loomed as they pulled up to the main entrance!

CHAPTER 5: Revelations

They left the car and walked slowly up the stairs to the great iron-bound double doors.  Flaming charcoal braziers on either side of the door flickered ominously.

"Hoo boy," Monk shivered, "Looks like there's no electricity!  This gets creepier and creepier!"

Renny lifted the giant knocker and let it fall.  It boomed hollowly.  Moments later, the two doors swung silently inward.  Silhouetted against the blaze of a thousand candles stood the Countess!

"Welcome to my house.  Enter freely and of your own will."

Doc stepped across the threshold.  "Stoker, is it not?"

Her laughter pealed like crystal bells.  "You read fiction, too?  Yes, Dr. Savage, this is a small humor of my family.  You see, we trace our bloodlines back to the Draculas.  My ancestor was Alexandru Aldea, half-brother to Vlad Dracul...the Devil.  He was Dracula's father, you know.  Ever since Mr. Stoker sensationalized our distant relatives, it has been a small conceit of my family to greet guests with his immortal words!"  Amusement oozed out of her.  It was infectious.  They were soon all at ease...their initial disquietude stilled in the warmth of the Countess's greeting!

Monk's fears of dankness and cold darkness were soon dispelled.  While the foyer glowed with candlelight, the Countess showed them quickly that the main living areas as well as the guest rooms were all equipped with modern conveniences.

"My own apartments lack these amenities...for I prefer the softer light of candles.  However, you must feel free to use the electric lights wherever you wish."  She smiled warmly at the group.  "The one exception is, of course, at dinner.  We must be softly lit as we dine...which, I believe, is in about an hour.  You would like, perhaps, to settle yourselves before dinner?  I will show you to your rooms."

Someone had obviously redecorated the monster pile of stone, for while the exterior of the castle was gloomy medieval austerity, the interior was lavish Renaissance splendor.  Draperies and tapestries were rich and in perfect repair.  The carpeting underfoot was lush.  Paintings and priceless works of art were everywhere.  The halls and bedrooms glowed with soft light, and each bedroom had its own fireplace with a crackling fire laid to take the chill from the room.  The Countess directed each to his respective area and then excused herself to oversee dinner.

They explored each other's suites for a short while, washed up and met in Doc's quarters.

"I can't believe it!" muttered Long Tom.  "Even the dang sheets are my favorite color!"

"Yours too?" Renny boomed.

"Mine also," admitted Ham.  "Although where she got sheets the bilious shade of green plaid that Monk likes...God only knows!"

Monk smirked.  "What about yours, Doc?"

"I haven't...checked..."

Monk sidled over, lifted the corner of the bedspread and whistled.  "Whew...bronze satin!  Custom-made jobs if ever I saw 'em!  Initialed in real gold thread, too!  I think she likes you, Doc!"

If Doc was impressed, he gave no outward sign.  The others had not his kind of self-control.  They were flabbergasted!

"You think if we asked, she'd give us the moon?" Long Tom murmured.

Ham's voice was a small whisper.  "I think she'd probably try..."

A bell-like tinkle rang through the halls.

"Oh boy!" Monk smacked his lips.  "Chow!"

"Listen, you baboon," Ham fixed Monk with a steely eye.  "You are going to act with a modicum of decency in this place...OR..." he waved his unsheathed sword cane under Monk's pugnacious nose..."I shall take great pleasure in carving you into hors d'oeuvres!"

"You an' what army, shyster?"  Monk began making swinish noises and Ham purpled in rage.

Anything that even hinted of pigs was sure to cause Ham to have a case of apoplexy!  It dated back to an incident in the Great War when Ham had taught Monk some French phrases to use in flattering a General that Monk wanted to impress.  The 'complimentary' phrases had landed Monk in the guardhouse!  Shortly after he got out, Ham was hauled up on a charge of stealing hams!  He had never been able to prove that Monk was responsible for the frame-up, and to make matters worse, the nickname 'Ham' had stuck!

Doc headed off further hostilities by observing "I would imagine dinner is waiting on us, brothers.  It would be inhospitable to tarry here longer."

The six descended the marbled stair.

They were greeted a the bottom by the Countess and an acid-faced spar of a man in a flashy uniform.  Gold braid abounded.  Medals spangled his chest.  This was obviously a person of some importance.

"Gentlemen, this is General Radu Tepesh, the commander of our government's troops which are stationed in the village."  She made introductions.  "General Tepesh has been trying unsuccessfully for some time to rid our borders of these tedious spies.  Perhaps he can be of assistance to you...or you can be of some assistance to him."

"Your servant, gentlemen.  You have but to command and my men will be at your disposal."  His voice dripped venom.  He was obviously not pleased that 'foreigners' had been called in to do his job!  He turned from them and offered his arm to escort the Countess to the dining room...eyeing her possessively!

Monk and Ham exchanged a glance...simultaneously declaring war on this new menace to their carefully constructed romantic plans!  One of those two friends might lose a lady to the other with grace...but to allow this pompous martinet to steal their Countess -- NEVER!

The others read the signs.  This was going to be an interesting meal!  Doc sighed wearily.

It was an interesting meal.  The conversation was witty, intelligent and sometimes dangerous.  Whenever a pitfall threatened, however, the Countess lead them gracefully around it.  Doc quietly watched this display of conversations skill with a small flush of gratitude.  It was usually his unwanted duty to keep his men out of trouble.  He soon relaxed and enjoyed the food, which was rich and abundant enough to satisfy even Johnny's voracious appetite!

After dinner, the General took his leave--deploring the fact that duty took him from their midst.  The Countess also excused herself, pleading duties of her estate.

Doc's men yawned and stretched as the length and strenuous activities of the day caught up with them.  The richness of their recent repast had made them drowsy.  They repaired to bed, and all were soon slumbering soundly.  Monk's raucous snores bounded around his room, rattling artifacts and booming off the walls.

Doc, alone, had remained in the library after the others had retired.  Typically, he was not tired...although he had had a much more strenuous day than his aides.  His reserves of energy and vitality were enormous!  He ensconced himself in a large, shadowed chair by the fire to wait for the house to quiet and settle for the night.  He would then -- without distractions -- wander through the great edifice, fixing in his amazing memory the position of every door, piece of furniture, and artifact.  His life might depend on traversing these halls and rooms in complete darkness, and it was well to be prepared!  Doc's secret for staying alive as long as he had was to leave as little as possible to chance!

His gaze wondered around the shadowed room.  Even in the light of the dying fire -- which was the only illumination in the room -- the place was lavish.  Well stocked, too.  The shelves contained almost as many books as his own 86th floor Manhattan library. He doubted that there were quite as many scientific volumes as he owned.  A goodly percentage of this library was rare and forgotten original manuscripts and esoteric tomes...the one area in which his own library was possibly deficient.

His eyes returned to the glowing embers...then flicked upward.  Above the fireplace was a magnificent portrait of the Countess.  Done in a centuries-old style, the painting looked to be Reubens-esque in execution.  A small trilled note wavered questioningly on the air.  Doc was an expert on arty styles -- as he was an expert on many other things -- and this was a 'Reubens' if ever he had seen one!  He had seen many...his expertise was irrefutable!  Yet...this was the Countess...even down to the small, irregular birthmark on her neck!  Yet this painting was easily several hundred years old!

A rustle of silk at the door presaged the lady's entrance.  Doc melted deep into the shadow.  It was not his policy to allow himself to be caught alone with a beautiful woman.  All too often one would try to take advantage of a potentially romantic situation.  He had long ago vowed never to subject a woman to the dangers he and his men encountered, so he simply avoided confrontations with them if he had a choice.

She crossed lightly to a desk and removed a ledger, adding it to several she already carried in her arms.  She paused, and turned slightly in his direction.  "Dr. Savage...Oh, do come out...I know you are there!"

Doc felt sheepish.  She had seen him with those unnatural eyes of hers.

"No," she smiled, seemingly reading his mind, "I heard you breathing.  You have a very distinct breathing pattern...even when you are trying to be stealthy."  Her voice held quiet amusement.

"I was just...admiring the portrait...A Reubens, is it not?"  Doc covered his embarrassment quickly.

"Yes, the third Countess Aldea.  I believe I somewhat resemble her.  I am...let me see...I tend to lose track...the seventh, or perhaps the eighth.  Ah well...I have work to do..."  She turned to go.  "Do consider this musty old dungeon your own to ramble in.  You will find only a few locked doors.  These are my private apartments, which you will, of course, respect.  The rest of the house, its servants and their services are at your disposal day or night."

"Thank...you..."  She was gone almost before Doc could murmur his gratitude.  It was a tiny bit disquieting to be on the receiving end of the same kind of quiet competence he practiced on his friends!

He roamed the castle...noting all, missing nothing.  Two locked rooms on the third level were obviously the Countess's and the rustling of papers within argued her attention to the business of her estate.  Through private inquiries, Doc had learned that the Countess had no near relatives and did, indeed, manage her ancestral fief herself.  That she did an excellent job of it was evident on their drive to the castle.  Prosperous farms abounded and happy, well-dressed people had waved enthusiastic greeting as they had passed.  While much of Europe was sunk in grinding poverty and despair, this tiny fiefdom was a small paradise -- thanks to the proper management and loving care of its Countess!

Doc continued his roaming.  It took him through several levels.  Guest accommodations, a ballroom that had once been a huge central keep, kitchens -- with an entry to the stable yard -- the wine cellars and several small rooms which had once been dungeons.  All was neat and dust-free, as if mere dirt feared to lay here.  Doc realized it was kept thus by countless unseen, devoted hands.  His path led finally to the family burial vaults deep beneath the castle.  It was almost dawn, he knew, and he should be getting back.  He stopped before the entrance.  A faintly bittersweet odor emanated from within.  It was not the grisly fetor or eons of dead that he had every right to expect here -- no!  It was the scent that he had come to associate with the Countess herself!

He swung the door open -- its well-oiled hinges barely whispering.  The vault was empty!

Empty, that is, of living beings.  The dead were here.  Old, moldering niches had been cleaned and their contents reposed in inlaid coffins.  The place was no more neglected than the rest of the castle.  Mahogany caskets glistened and stone sarcophagi shimmered -- each and all lovingly polished.

The fragrance was dissipating.  It was strongest near one of the farthest walls.  Doc's sensitive fingers searched the wall and shortly found a tiny catch.  It made a muffled click as he pushed it.  A panel slid silently back.  he stepped through the opening and moved forward.

Here the hand of time showed.  Spiders spun their webs unhindered.  The walls gave off a faintly luminous glow...phosphorous.  Doc repocketed his small flashlight.  It was light enough here for him not to need it.

The path was well used.  The width of the cleared area indicated frequent visits by a long, swirling skirt.  He rounded a corner and walked into a large phosphorus-lit cavern.  On either side of the path was heaped treasure!  Gold, silver, gems...wealth beyond belief!  And all was overlaid with years of dust and cobwebs!

The Countess stood half-way across the chamber...facing him.  "Do come in Dr. Savage."  Her voice was weary.  "You see around you the reason our country is besieged.  Other nations think that because of our prosperity we must have vast caches of treasure like this."

Doc crossed to her, looking around as he went.  All was dust-laden.  "This hoard hasn't been disturbed for...centuries, I'd say.  I would estimate that proper money management and attention to finances are more responsible for your fiefdom's prosperity."

"And you would be correct.  This is merely security against real emergency!  It will remain here till my people need it!"  She smiled at Doc's raised eyebrows.  "Do not be surprised, sir...this means no more to men than it does...to you, I'd wager.  All the riches of this land belong to my people -- I am but their caretaker."

"And your purpose for a daily visit?"

"Beyond that rock outcropping is a tiny hidden room.  I found it as a child and no one buy myself has ever entered it.  It is...my 'quiet place' where I retire for a few hours every morning.  Do you understand the need for complete isolation sometimes?"

"Yes," he whispered, "I, too, have my 'Fortress of Solitude'."

"How well you phrase it."  Her eyes glaze with weariness.  "If you will excuse me, sir..."  She had no need of extracting a vow of secrecy from him...she knew well the caliber of this man!

He watched as she turned and walked away from him once more.  Somehow, this woman understood the aloneness that great power imposes.  She, too, had need of solitude.  She, too, had her secret place away from clamoring humanity!  She was, he thought, a kindred spirit.  He smiled.  Suddenly his life did not seem quite as eccentric and lonely as it once had.

When she had vanished, Doc turned and retraced his way through the levels of the castle, closing gates and doors behind himself.  Dawn had dappled the sky with pink an gold by the time he returned to his rooms.  He threw off his clothes and slid between the silken sheets that so closely matched his own skin tone.

The sheets were soft and cool and caressing.  Doc, sleep beginning to claim him, wondered if her hands would be this soft and cool...her lips this caressing...

He sat bold upright in the bed!  His whole body was trembling!  These were not the kind of thoughts he was used to.  Never before had he wondered such things!

His eyes widened in horror as he realized what had happened.  It was the one thing in his adult life he'd always quietly feared!  It was the one thing that might sooner or later spell death for his men or him!  It could mean the deadliest, most inescapable trap of all.  If he ignored it, the emotional turmoil he would go through -- possibly for the rest of his life -- could warp critical decisions and endanger his men or himself.  If he acknowledged it and did something about it, the Countess could become a target for every villain with a grudge against Doc Savage!

Nothing worse could have happened to him!  He'd fallen in love!

CHAPTER 6: Discoveries!

Doc was disgusted!  How had this happened?  When had it happened?  He'd always been careful about women...excruciatingly careful!  He'd kept many of them successfully at arms length.  Several had been more than passively interested...some had actually almost thrown themselves at him!

The Countess was different.  Cool, supremely competent, she had often seen a situation coming that any other woman would have taken advantage of...and walked away from it!  Was that it?  No...it had to be more than that.  One could respect coolness and competence...it wasn't necessary to fall in love with it!

Doc lay back in the bed. Closing his eyes, he tried to compose his thoughts as he had been taught to do when he studied in Tibet, early in his life.  His heart was pounding like a triphammer!  This was terrible!  His body had never before betrayed him like this!  How did Monk and Ham stand it?!  They were always falling in love!  He tried to concentrate...and her face got in the way.

This was simply no good!! If every time he closed his eyes, he was going to see her eyes...WAIT!  Her eyes!  Had she somehow, unbeknownst to Doc, hypnotized him?

He remembered his first sight of her, standing in the doorway of his Manhattan office.  Midnight eyes had met golden ones a room's length away as the Premier had babbled away about his 'spy' problem.  Now that he thought about it, those eyes had shown no timidity...they had commanded!  "You will come to me!"...and he had!

Had he actually kissed her hand...like a star-struck adolescent?  He had!  No wonder Johnny's eyes had formed dinner plates.  He'd better watch Johnny...the man was too observant!  Damn!  Any other time that would be an asset...now it was a distraction!

He'd felt slightly light-headed when he had examined her eyes later, and at dinner last evening he'd seen her practically mesmerize everyone else with them.

She was, however, no master of the art of hypnotism.  Doc knew every trick in that book.  He often used his own weirdly shifting eyes to make malefactors divulge information.

It was true that the candle light at dinner had helped.  IT had formed small, red, flickering flames in those midnight orbs...an eerie effect...augmenting their natural hypnotic qualities.

Still, Doc was a Master of the Art!  He knew how to observe a hypnotist without being affected himself.  She had not mesmerized him!

He sighed...he obviously wasn't going to resolve this thing that easily!

Sounds from the adjoining rooms told him his friends were preparing for the day ahead.  Doc hoped they weren't -- for once in their lives -- as observant as they sometimes were.  Doc could always tell at a single glance when any of his men had been affected by a woman.  Would they be able to tell...?  An embarrassed flush spread slowly over his bronze features.

There was only one thing to be done!  His mind firmed to a single purpose as he dressed.  This case had to be cleared up quickly so they could get out of here...before he did something STUPID!!!

He paused at the door and looked back at the satin sheets.  "You're running away!" a small voice sniggered at the back of his mind.  He considered a moment.  "You bet I am!" he muttered to himself as he stepped into the hall.

* * * * *

As the Countess had predicted, the back roads of her land seemed to be little more than farm roads, so Renny and Long Tom took advantage of her offer to mounts to reconnoiter the mountains.  There were obviously backwoods trails that the infiltrators used and it would be an asset to have these thoroughly mapped out.  Johnny had taken one long look at the convoluted terrain and had asked Monk to help him with some geological analyses.

"If the sub-stratum proves to be as I surmise, it will be a propitious eventuality indicative of..."

"Hold it!" Monk snapped.  "If I have to listen to that all day, I'll go nuts!  You talk right or I'll go with them!"  Monk case a wary eye at the spirited mounts prancing under Renny's and Long Tom's restraining hands.

Johnny acquiesced, muttering about the arrested mentality of certain incorrigible anthropoids.

Doc had elected to visit the only large town nearby to examine, if possible, the remains of the spies found dead in the hills.  The Premier had indicated that there was a startling aspect to these bodies, and Doc had determined to see if this could be a help in their investigation.  He had asked Ham to accompany him.

"You can check out what we can expect in the way of local police and military assistance...if we need it."  Doc said.  "Also, keep your ears open for anything the townspeople consider unusual."

"Righto, Doc!"  Ham smiled as he handled the powerful machine.  "Any idea what we've gotten ourselves into this time?"

"Lets' see what we find out in town."  It was generally Doc's policy to be reticent about his surmises.  When the time came for them to need his knowledge, he would let his aides know what they needed to know.  If they didn't know all of his thoughts, they couldn't be forced to divulge information if they were captured.

Ham began humming a tune...a popular Broadway ditty about moonlight and sweet sentiments.  "Boy!" he chuckled between choruses, "Am I glad the Countess put the ol' Ape in his place!  He hasn't made a serious play for her yet!  Not that it would get him anywhere with a woman like that!  She's 'class' all the way!   If I can persuade her to look favorably on me...well, one could do worse than settling down here."

Doc cast a look at the dapper lawyer beside him.  Here was salvation!  Ham could keep the Countess busy if anyone could!  He had few fears that he would lose one of his group...Ham wasn't the 'settling down' type any more than Monk was.  This was perfect!  He glanced out the window and sighed as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders!

* * * * *

"C'mon over here, Johnny, I think I've found something!"  Monk's normally tiny voice was booming with excitement!  Monk's voice always became a whooping, thundering bellow when he became excited...or when he was fighting!  "Look!  You were right about the land type and the natural caves it should form,  'cause here's one...or I'm a monkey's uncle!"

"The latter is an indisputable certainty...the former, GAAAK!  What have you uncovered?  The gateway to Hell?"  A charnel fetor hung about the small cave opening.

"Yeah, the stink is pretty strong!  I wonder what's dead in there."  Monk took a few gulps of fresh air, held his breath and stuck his head and one of Doc's spring-run flashlight into the opening.  "Cripes!"  The exclamation exploded from him, forcing air out of his lungs.  His next breath nearly made him gag.  "There's a million stiffs in there!" he gasped, popping back out into the sunlight.

Johnny dug into a knapsack and produced compact self-contained breathing devices.  Usually these were used underwater...but they would be just as effective here.  Slapping one on and handing one to Monk, he climbed into the cavern.

Monk had exaggerated by several hundred thousand.  This was, however, on of the largest mass graves Johnny had ever seen.  He looked around carefully.  There were freshly dead bodies, all with their throats torn out!  There were older, moldering mummies with what appeared to be similar wounds.  There were piles of ancient bones in the dress of bygone years with gouges in the throat bones!

There were at least four or five hundred years worth of corpses here!  Centuries of fashions rotten on the cavern floor!   They were all the genuine swords, laces, leathers and fabrics of earlier eras!

A weird light came into Johnny's eyes.  He returned to the most intact of the bodies.  Examining the bodies thoroughly, he obviously found what he was looking for.  He motioned Monk to follow him outside.

"We've got to get back to the castle!  Doc's got to know about this!" Johnny gasped.

"Well, I admit it is spooky...but..."

"No!" Johnny was clearly agitated.  He was even foregoing the large words he had been torturing Monk with all afternoon.  "You don't understand!  If this is what I think it is...we're all in deadly danger here!"

"These guys didn't die of the PLAGUE, did they?" Monk gulped.

"The Plague?  Oh, Hell, no!  I wish it were that simple!"  Johnny was grim.  "I want to get back and take a look at the Countess's library, too.  She may have some books I need to shed some light on this..."

They gathered up their gear and started for the castle.

* * * * *

"Hey, shyster, where's Doc?"  Monk hailed Ham as he ambled into the library.  Monk was munching on an apple he'd appropriated in the kitchen.

"He'll be here in a minute...you know how he is..."  Doc would arrive in his own time...they all knew this.  "Actually, I'm glad for a bit of a break!"  The dapper lawyer dropped wearily into a chair.

The four friends gathered round Ham.  "What's up?" they queried.  There had been an odd note to Ham's statement.

"It's Doc...he's been like a bear with a sore behind all day!  I swear, I've never seen him like this!  Have you ever known Doc to be jumpy or irritable?"  They all shook their heads.  Doc never allowed his emotions to show.  He was always cool...always in control!

"Elucidate on the eventualities that precipitated this deviation from normalcy," Johnny said.

"Yeah," chimed in Monk, "What happened?"

"I don't know!" wailed Ham.  "Everything was fine when we started out from the castle...but by the time we got to town, whew!"

Monk scratched his nubbin of a head.  "What'd you talk about goin' in?"

"Nothing important...what we wanted to do in town...the countryside...aspects of the case we're on...the Countess..."

Monk smiled.  "Was it after you talked about the Countess that he got persnickety?"

"Come to think of it...it was!  By Jove!  I'll be he's upset about me leaving the group to settle down here with the Countess!"

"What?!"  Long Tom almost pounced on Ham.  "You know you'd never quit our group!"

Monk gave one bellow and sat down laughing uproariously.  He held his sides.  Tears streamed down his face.  He rolled around on the floor, whooping.  He couldn't stop laughing!

"No...no..." Monk chortled, "Oh...cripes...you...stupid, bumbling, conceited shyster...oh, my aching sides..."  He quieted a bit.  I bet you told Doc you were going to try to get the Countess to marry you...right?"

"Well, yes, but I don't see what that has to do..."

"Ha!  You're blind as a bat!  You'll need that cane to find your way across the street pretty soon!  Hoo, hoo, ha...Oh...Heehee...I saw this coming!  Hoo ha...I never thought it would actually happen...!"

"Will someone please tell me what he's babbling about?"  Ham was beginning to be concerned about Monk's sanity.  The others looked at each other and shrugged.

Monk wiped the tears from his eyes.  His chuckles finally subsided.  "Awright, you stupid fashion plate, I'll spell it out for you!  If you hadn't been so busy courtin' you'da seen what I saw.  Every time Doc's even looked at her, his eyes have gotten funny...kinda soft...and melty!"

"You don't mean..."

"Oh yes, I do!  He's in love with her!  He couldn't take his eyes off her last night at dinner!   And I heard him talking to himself in the hallway this morning.  Doc never talks to himself...OUT LOUD!  It's finally happened!  Ha!  Doc's in love!"

"Well..." murmured Johnny, "It's true that whenever she's present he get a bit nebulous..."

"Holy cow!" boomed Renny.  "What's gonna happen now?  I mean...how does this affect us?"

They sobered instantly.  Doc was the mainspring of their adventuring team.  Assuming what Monk said was true...would Doc give up adventuring for anonymity and safety for his family?   Well they knew that if Doc was really in love, that it would be no casual affair such as the one in which Monk and Ham occasionally embroiled themselves.

A dinner bell tinkled from the dining room.

"Anyone hungry?"  They all sat stunned, looking forlornly at each other.  No one moved towards the waiting dinner until Marda, the buxom housekeeper, bustled in and herded them before her.

General Tepesh was in his usual place, but when all were seated and being served, there were two conspicuous absentees.

The Countess Orlonda Aldea...and Doc Savage!

CHAPTER 7: The Deadly Trap

The day had been a difficult one.  True, Doc had learned some interesting things at the town morgue...but the undisguised tension between him and Ham was something he had to resolve!

His small group functioned well because they were all compatible and understanding personalities; Monk's and Ham's interminable quarrel notwithstanding.  There was rarely any disagreements between the men...and never any between them and Doc!

Doc had quietly slipped away for some soul-searching as soon as he and Ham had returned to the castle.  Since Doc often went off on his own, his men would think nothing of this.

Doc had sought the loneliest and most secluded part of the castle compound...a small flower garden near the sheer cliffs at the rear of the edifice.  Dinner time was at hand and he naturally assumed he'd have the place to himself.  His men, he knew, would make excuses to the Countess for his absence.

He sat on a shrub-enclosed marble garden seat and watched the cool evening air condense a light, wispy ground-fog.  He was thinking about the day.  Boy!  Had he messed up!  Why had he snapped at Ham today?  Ham was going to save Doc's skin...wasn't he?

A slight movement in the lower garden caught his eye.  A figure was moving through the mist.  It dipped and wove like some exotic butterfly...moving from one bush to another.  There was something familiar about it.  The figure spun nearer to Doc's place of concealment.

It was the Countess!  Thinking herself unobserved, she had cast away the dignities of her title and had become instead a light-hearted young girl...out gathering flowers.

Doc watched, enchanted!  Here was a whole side to the Countess that, he was sure, few people knew about!  She spun, her skirts forming a dark cloud about her, and hugged the long-stemmed roses to her.  She wooed the night, obviously reveling in the way the rising moon transformed dew-covered shrubs into diamond-spangled shadows.  A lone wolf howled on a far hillside.  She smiled and did a fairly credible job of returning the howl.  She was one with her land and all of its inhabitants.

Doc lowered his head to his hands.  Best not to allow himself to be tempted into an indiscretion by this stolen glance into her private faerie world.

"Get out of here!" his guardian conscience commanded.  "It's just possible she will come this way...and find you here!"

Still, he didn't move.  Was part of him hoping against hope that she would find him?  Did he, in truth, want a confrontation?  Did he really want to find out why she kept...walking away from him?!

"Run!  Go!  Get out!"

"Shut up!"

His heart was racing!  He couldn't think straight!  He looked over the encircling hedges.  She was gone!  Returned to the house for dinner, he guessed.  His heart slowed, his body relaxed.  He was aware of a feeling of disappointment.  He HAD wanted to speak with her.  He was also aware of a feeling of relief.

"Not yet..." his mind said, "You're not ready for this!"

"Will I ever be ready?  Is anyone ever READY for this kind of thing?"

He was still sitting there, deep in thought, when a voice startled him out of his reverie.

"Dr. Savage, are you quite all right?"

He jumped!  He hadn't even heard her approaching!  That was impossible!  The night was so silent he could hear dew dropping off the leaves of the bushes!

"Madame..." He started to rise.

She waved him back to his seat and proceeded to sedately gather roses from the nearby bushes.  "How is your investigation proceeding, sir?"

"To tell the truth," he admitted, "I really came out here to think over some of the aspects of it."

"And I have interrupted that thought process!"  She was genuinely disturbed...as far as Doc could ascertain.  "I had thought when first I noticed you here that you had come out, as I often do, to enjoy the evening beauty of the garden.  On closer inspection, you appeared to be either troubled or ill...I am glad I was wrong.  I shall leave you to your meditations on my people's behalf.  Good evening Herr Docktor."

She turned and began walking towards the castle.  He watched her moving away...and had not the courage to tell her to stop.

"Ahhh," he whispered to himself in Mayan, "Would that I were not who and what I am!  Then I could say...Stop!  Don't go..."

She halted, turned and retraced her steps until she stood once again before him.

"And, if you could say...stop, don't go...WOULD you say it?"  The Mayan speech had never sounded so sweet.  She spoke a much purer dialect than the one he had learned.

"Yes..."  He rose to meet her this time.  "Where did you learn the ancient Mayan language?"

"I have traveled to many places, and know many languages.  Some of them are old and no longer in use, Dr. Savage."

"Please call me 'Doc'," he smiled.  "Everyone does..."

"I am not...everyone!  I would prefer to call you...Clark...if I may."

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.  Inadvertently, she had touched a heartstring.  Only his beloved father and the equally beloved and revered tutors of his childhood had ever addressed him by this name.  To the rest of the world...even his five associates...he was 'Doc'.  Remembrance of the loss of the elder Savage to Central American assassins would always be painful to him.  "If you wish..."  He looked up to see her watching him with softly concerned eyes.

She glanced down at the roses in her arms, selected one and held it out to him.  "There are many things that I wish...and some of them can never be...can they?"

He took the rose and twirled it gently.  "In my country," he murmured, "A single red rose has much meaning..."

"Yes, I know...most of your customs originated here, in Europe."

His hand tightened on the stem of the flower.  He was completely unaware of the tiny trickle of blood that seeped from his closed fist.

Not so, the Countess!  Her eyes widened.  She cast down the armful of roses and reached out to take his hand.  She gently pried open his fingers to reveal a nasty gouge opened by one of the thorns.  Her voice was stricken!  "Ahh...my country has wounded you already!"

Before Doc could move, she bent her head...and kissed the blood from his palm!

At the touch of her lips and the tiny caress of her tongue across the would, Doc's head reeled!  He fought for equilibrium for a moment...and realized he had already lost the battle.   His mental defenses...the lifelong protectors of his heart...had crumbled!  All his vows of celibacy vanished!  His promises to himself and his men were voided by one gentle touch!   His capitulation was complete!   Some mystic bond between them had formed...and she owned him now, body and soul!  He did not understand it...but he knew it was so!

Reality blurred around him as a tiny voice far away whispered "Danger..."

"Countess..."

"Orlonda."

"Orlonda...I...have many enemies who would strike at me through any woman I...loved..."  He knew he was making a royal mess of this!  "I cannot subject anyone to that kind of life, especially not y..."

Cool lips halted his protestations in mid-sentence.  Doc had been kissed before, but not like this -- never like this!!

He pulled her to him, burying his face in the fragrant masses of raven hair.  "I never had a chance, did I?" he murmured.

"No..." she whispered, snuggling into the warmth of his arms, "Nor did I.  What are you -- a great sorcerer -- that you can enslave me like this?  Never did I think to meet a man who could do this to me!  I have not been mistress of my own heart since first I heard your voice!"

"The phone call..." Doc said.  "Yes, that's when it must have started!  But...you were always so cool...aloof..."

She smiled a small, secret smile.   "As were you..."

He tilted her head back and was once again lost in the midnight pools of her eyes.  "Not fair...using my own tricks on me..." he murmured as his lips sought hers.

* * * * *

"I wonder where Doc is."  It had been Monk's constant worry through dinner.

"I wonder where the Countess is," were General Tepesh's rather disturbed sentiments.  Rarely, he had said, did the Countess miss presiding over her table.  She always had guests of some sort at evening meal.  Sometimes they were dignitaries...sometimes merely villagers.  He ventured to point out that every single person in her fiefdom had, at one time or another, been a guest at the Countessa's table.  Her people loved her for these common touches as well as for her leadership.

"She seems rarely to eat anything herself, but she never misses presiding at dinner," the General observed.  "I do not understand where she could be!"

Marda, the housekeeper, could offer no enlightenment, nor could any of the maids.

"Gosh, I hope she ain't been kidnapped or anything by those spies!"  Monk's thoughts swung away from Doc's absence.  Doc -- wherever he was -- could take care of himself, Monk was sure!  Monk would never have imagined how wrong he was!

"They wouldn't dare!"  Conviction roared in Tepesh's voice.  "She must be somewhere about the castle...she rarely leaves it."

"O.K." said Monk, "You guys enjoy dessert while I reconnoiter.  I aint' hungry any more."

"Hmmmmm, I perceive that it is an opportune moment to return to my perusal of the enigmatic and enlightening tomes," Johnny said.  He left the dining room with Monk.

They ambled toward the library.  "Say, Monk, do you think it's significant that both Doc and the Countess were missing from dinner?"

"Dunno, Johnny."  Monk screwed up his eyebrows in thought.  "I always been of the opinion that if Doc ever found himself in trouble -- uhh, heart-wise, if you get my drift -- that he'd run like Hell!"

"Could she have cornered him?"

"Well, she aint' showed any interest in him, so far...which is pretty unusual in itself, I guess!  She's an awful lot like Doc...maybe she's no more interested in men than Doc has been in women!  Did you find anything in those books you were reading earlier?"

"Some...I hope to find more...wait...what's this?"

A low murmur of voices from the library stopped them in their tracks.  They peered through the crack made by the slightly open door.

It was Doc and the Countess.  They were standing by the fireplace, talking...just low enough and far enough away that Johnny and Monk could not make out the words.  As they watched, Doc reached out and gathered her into his arms.  The look of unrestrained love and joy on his face brought tears to his aide's eyes.  They backed slowly and silently away from the door.

"Ohboyohboyohboy!" Monk chortled.  "I don't care what happens now...!  IF she can make him that happy...WOW!"  He turned and sprinted for the dining room.

"Ha!  You overdressed shyster!  I was right!  You might just as well pack it in...'cause Doc's in love with the lady...and it sure looks like she's in love with him!"  He told them what he and Johnny had just seen.  The information precipitated a stampede down the hall.

Johnny stood athwart the hall.  He hadn't been quick enough to stop Monk, but they would go no further than this!

"That's it!"  He stopped the stampede in mid-hallway.  "Leave 'em alone...they deserve some privacy!"  He eyed Monk with a withering glare.  "Blabbermouth!" he hissed.

A door swung open behind Johnny.  They all stood staring, open-mouthed with amazement at what happened next!

Doc emerged from the library with the Countess in his arms.  It was doubtful if he even noticed them standing there!  His eyes were for her alone, as were hers for him.  He swept across the foyer and up the stairs, disappearing into he darkness.

His men stared at each other and grinned.  Ham turned to the General, bowed and smiled.  "Sorry, old chap, looks like we both lose!" he said.

"We shall see about that!"  The General's voice was ice and the look he sent up the stairs was pure death!  He stomped out the front door.

"There goes one unhappy fellow," observed Long Tom.

"Yeah," snickered Monk.  "And there," he jerked a thumb towards the stair, "went one HAPPY fella!"

They all smiled and retired to the library for the remainder of the evening to discuss the situation.

CHAPTER 8: Of Love and Magick

Doc's eyes fluttered open.  He felt weak as a kitten.  A sore muscle in his neck throbbed with a dull pain that eased as he rubbed it.  A quick glance at his watch jerked him upright.  It was nearly noon!

He searched his memory...the last thing he remembered was last evening in the garden.  There was also the dream, of course.  It had obviously robbed his sleep of any of its restorative powers.  It had been pure wish-fulfillment, that dream.  He blushed as he remembered it.  Well, if he could never have Orlonda, at least he could dream about her!  He dressed and went downstairs.  As he entered the dining room, he was greeted by five of the silliest grins he'd ever seen!

"What's wrong with you birds?  Something's up...what do you know that I don't?" he queried.

They all exchanged puzzled looks.

"Uhhh...you look like Death warmed over, Doc...how do you feel?" Monk barely restrained another silly grin.

"I'm hungry...I don't remember having dinner last night."

He watched with growing unease as they all broke into raucous laughter.  He suddenly felt light-headed, so he grabbed a chair and sat.

It was Renny who noticed that Doc had gone several shades paler.  "Knock it off, you guys," he rumbled.  "Doc, are you O.K.?"

"I think so.  What is so uproariously funny this morning...and why did I sleep so late?"

"Well, we weren't about to wake you," sniffed Ham.  "Supposing we had barged in on...something!"

"Barged in on something?  What are you talking about?"  Doc was beginning to be annoyed.  Either they were all crazy, or...

"Uh oh..." Monk's grin faded.  "Doc," he said, softly, "What do you remember about last night?  This is important!"

The urgency of Monk's tone was unmistakable.  "I remember going out into the garden to do some...thinking...before dinner.  That's all!  The rest of the evening's a blank.  I had a weird dream...and woke up a few minutes ago...feeling...odd."

"What was the dream, Doc?"  Monk's voice was deadly serious.

Doc blushed.  "I'd rather not say."

"Oh boy..."  Monk decided that beating around the bush would not help.  "Doc...it wasn't a dream!  It was you and the Countess, and it wasn't a dream!  The last we all saw of you was you carrying her up those stairs, and the way you two were looking at each other...well..."

He searched their faces.  They were all deadly serious!   Johnny reddened as Doc's gaze swept over him.

"Johnny...?"

"Well, my room's next to yours, and if the walls are thick enough to be soundproof, that connecting door isn't!  I spent the night with Renny!"

Doc sat back in his chair, stark disbelief written on his features.  Rarely did Doc show his emotions, but this revelation had taken him completely by surprise!

"Not...a dream...?"  His men wouldn't lie to him -- not  about something like this!  "I ...we...really did.....?"  A faint reddish tinge began suffusing his features.

Five heads bobbed slightly amused affirmation.  They had never before seen their big, bronze leader so nonplussed.

"An' about time, too!" Monk chortled.

"Shut up, Oaf!" Ham's elbow jabbed Monk's ribs.

Doc's men had been watching with great interest the play of emotions across their leader's face.  It was not often they got a peek into the bronze man's mind.  Even as they watched, they saw the look of dismayed naiveté replaced by one of fulfilled satisfaction.  The fifteen year old kid in Doc had suddenly gown up -- and liked it!

He looked up to see them watching him, and the old, impassive mask they were so familiar with once again shielded his inner thoughts from them.

"O.K....if we can assume you've sorted this thing out..." rumbled Renny, "What now, Doc?"

"I...don't know," Doc murmured, his mind still elsewhere.  "I suggest for the time being that we concentrate on the mystery that brought us here."

One of the maids brought in lunch, and curtsied to Doc as she would have to the Countess.

"Wait..." Doc stopped her.  "Have you seen your mistress this morning?"

"Yes sir, I passed her in the hall as I came in...shortly before dawn."

"Did she say...anything...?"

"She gave us our usual instructions for the day, sir."

"Hmm...then why...?"  Doc indicated the formal curtsey the girl had made in his direction.

The girl colored prettily.  "Oh, sir, I am sorry...I have been too forward!  But...but, I assumed when I saw the look on Madame's face...Oh dear!"

Doc put aside his own mental turmoil to quiet the flustered girl.  "Take it easy, child, now...what look did you mean?"

"Oh, sir, surely you know that when a woman is satisfied with a man, she gets a certain look in her eyes that any other woman can read immediately.  Cannot you tell when your own men are in love?"

She had him there.  He nodded assent.

"Well, if you don't mind my saying so, sir," the girl smiled, "From the look on Milady's face this morning...you must be...marvelous!"

A thunderbolt could not have done a more perfect job of destroying Doc's aplomb!  It was all his aides could do not to laugh out loud.  They had learned of the European casualness in some areas of interpersonal relations on their stints in Europe during the war.  Apparently Doc's wartime education had not been quite as broad as theirs had been!  They sat there with hands covering grins and shoulders trembling in barely restrained mirth.

The girl gazed at the effect her pronouncement had made on Doc.  "Oh, dear," she eyed his fiery countenance.  "Have I erred?  It is your likeness she keeps in her rooms.  Are you not our new Master?"

"Yes...yes, I think I am.  Thank you, child."  He dismissed her after extracting a promise of silence.  "Your mistress will probably make a formal announcement soon.  Until then...let it be our secret."  She curtsied again, and departed...her eyes shining.

"Thus do the mighty fall...have some lunch."  Johnny chuckled.  "Y'know, Doc," he changed the subject, "Monk and I found some rather interesting things yesterday.  There seems to be two distinct types of ridge formations to the local terrain.  One type is fairly solid with few possibilities of caverns, while the ridges to the northeast, near the border, are of the type that is virtually honeycombed with caves.  This is where the spies are probably hiding out!"

"That could be the answer!" interjected Ham.  "in the village, I learned that the people native to this region don't venture too far into the mountains due to wolves and local superstitions, but have occasionally formed hunting parties to wipe out insurgents from the neighboring country.  They were always puzzled about the spies' abilities to simply vanish.  They must have hidden in caves the locals knew nothing about!"

"That ties in with what we found out, too," boomed Renny.  He pulled out a topographical map of the area, across which line in red and black ink had been traced.  "The ridges to the southeast are little frequented, with few backwoods trails and only moderately used deer-runs.  This area to the northeast is loaded with well-concealed but distinct back trails and overly heavily used deer-runs.  This is where our spies are!  You can bet on it!  We mapped as much as we could of those trails before nightfall closed in.  The red lines are the definitive trails and back roads.  The black connecting lines are the heavily traveled deer-runs that obviously men have been using as paths."

"So...we've got the area of operations pinpointed.  If we can somehow destroy the caverns and hiding places, the locals can police the rest of the territory."  Long Tom smiled.

"You're going to have to be careful about that," Johnny interposed.  "There's bound to be natural gas pockets in a cavernous area such as this.  You could bring the whole ridge down on your heads if you're not careful!"

"The problem," said Doc, "is not quite that simple.  There is another aspect that, I must admit, is puzzling.  The spies have been turning up dead!  I examined several yesterday.  The throats of every one of them had been mutilated!"

"Wolves, Doc?" Monk shivered.

"No.  While a wolf will often attack the throat area, they have a very distinctive bite pattern.  Wolves didn't do it."

"Similar to the spies that were attacked outside your reception room, eh Doc?" Ham queried.

"With two exceptions.  These local bodies showed odd puncture marks on the necks, and very little blood loss from the massive throat wounds which were the obvious cause of death."

"Just like the bodies in the cave!" blurted Monk.

"Yes," said Johnny.  "Doc, while reconnoitering the cavernous area, Monk and I located several caves.  One particularly large one...with a well-concealed small opening...was full of dead men with the same conditions evident.  The most mysterious thing is that some of those bodies were hundreds of years old!  Doc...I think I know what killed them, but you're not going to like my hypothesis...or even believe it!"

"Try me."

"We've got a vampire!  I'd bet my life on it!"  Johnny always bet on sure things...and he'd never been known to lose!

"I think that's one bet you'd lose," smiled Doc.  "If there were a...um...vampire...around here, the local people should be terrified.  They're not!  They're happy, prosperous, and only slightly superstitious...which we can chalk up to the fairly secluded area this fiefdom comprises.  Or do you have an explanation for their lack of fear?"

"No.  You've got me there, but..."

"Booga, booga," grimaced Monk.  "You been putterin' around tombs too long.  Yer gonna get brain-rot!"

Everyone laughed...except Johnny.

"Great!" he muttered.  "I knew I shouldn't have said anything about this without more proof!  But if it's proof you want...it's proof you're going to get!  Those books in there hold the key, and I'm going to find it!"  He got up and marched towards the library.

They watched him go.  Johnny was usually fairly correct with his hunches, but when he was wrong...he was totally wrong!  That wasn't often, but his friends were willing to wager this was one of those times.

After lunch, Renny and Long Tom indicated they had some more mapping to do.  They were finding the Moldanian countryside quite a challenge to their excellent woodsmanship.  They were, quite frankly, enjoying themselves thoroughly.

"Be cautious," Doc warned them.  "It is odd that we have not seen any activity as yet.  It's almost as if they've been warned of our presence, and are laying low!"

"Think I'll tramp around on foot an' see if I can turn up anything that Renny and Long Tom have missed on horseback.  Wanna come with me, fashion plate?" Monk grinned at Ham.

"And end up looking like you?  That brush would make tatters of anything but your filthy rags...which are tatters to begin with!" Ham sniffed.  "No thanks, Ape!  I think I'll cultivate some of the local lassies."

Monk gritted his teeth.  It was just like Ham to make for the feminine side of an adventure!  Monk wished he'd thought of it first!  He looked at Doc and chuckled.  Well, there was one lady the ol' shyster wouldn't get!

A second look brought concern to Monk's eyes.  His chief had once again gone pale.  "You, on the other hand," he said, "Are going right back to bed!  You may be the biggest lady-killer around, but it looks like you finally found one that's gonna kill you!"  He chuckled lecherously.

"Much as I hate to agree with anything the baboon says, Monk's right, Doc.  You look terrible!"  Ham offered.  "I guess when you're not used to this sort of thing it can throw you for a loop!"

To their surprise, Doc did not object.  He knew when his body needed rest, and it needed it now if it ever had.  All through lunch he'd felt weak and dizzy.

As they watched him wearily climb the stairs, Ham observed, "This has really hit him hard, hasn't it?"

"Yeah...Doc thought he had everything worked out!  No ladies, no troubles!" Monk sighed.  "If he didn't have a heart as big as all outdoors hidden under that facade he shows the world, he'd have been safe.  As it was...it was only a matter of time till someone tripped him up!   Thank goodness it was a dreamboat like the Countess.  Hey, does marrying a Countess make you a Count?"

Doc listened to them from the shadows at the top of the stairs.  Monk was right!  This had hit him hard...very hard!  He had to talk to Orlonda!  He mounted the stairs to the third floor where he had noticed her rooms the first night, and knocked on the door he knew was here.

Silence answered him.

He tried the knob and found the door unlocked.  He walked into the candlelit room.  She was not there.  It was obviously her room; exquisite personal touches...as well as the open ledgers on a desk...told him this.  One small alcove held a nearly completed full-sized painting of himself.  It was an excellent likeness.  The woman kept surprising him!

Doc pondered.  If she was not here, she was probably in her hidden chamber.  he turned and retraced his way downstairs.  He moved silently through the kitchens and cellars till he came to the tombs.  Crossing to the southeastern wall, he found the catch, pressed it and watched as the portal swung open.

He stopped.  That was her 'private place'.  She had not invited him there...merely told him of its existence.  He would not violate that trust.  He would wait and speak to her later.  He released the catch and the portal closed.

He left the tomb and returned to the upstairs, unaware that a hidden pair of eyes had watched his every movement.

"Fascinating!" murmured a voice from the shadows.  The shadow became a figure...it followed Doc back upstairs.

* * * * *

"Awwww...Crud!  I'm lost!" Monk had been wandering around in circles for hours!  It was beginning to worry him.  If he was caught out here after dark...alone...there were wolves in these hills!

The smell of a campfire swung him around.  "Oop!  Spies, I'll bet!"  Monk made his way as silently as possible towards the source of the smell.  He came upon a small clearing.  A campfire burned at the entrance to a small, dark cave.  Across the clearing was a tiny, immaculately kept cottage.  Stirring the bubbling cauldron on the fire was an ancient crone.

She looked up.  "Come out, come out," she beckoned.  "Come, youngster.  Simonetta vill not hurt you.  Come, have dinner mit an old voman."

The savory smell of what could only be venison stew, rich with onions and carrots, made Monk's mouth water.  He was hungry!  He considered...this could be a trap!  The smell of the stew beckoned, teased, tormented.  He was starving!  It could be poisoned!  That old crone looked like a witch if he'd ever seen one...not that he ever had.

"Sniff..."  He couldn't stand it any longer.  He stepped into the clearing fully expecting a barrage of gunfire.  he had been ready to leap for cover, if necessary.

Nothing happened!

The crone waddled over and looked him up and down with a bleary eye.  "Nice...vat a handsome young man!  You make der ladies hearts go flutter, yes?"

A large grin split Monk's face from ear to ear.  The old bat wasn't half-bad if she could see that!  He just hoped she didn't entertain any romantic notions!  She was old enough to be his grandmother.

By the time they finished the stew, they were fast friends.  He asked her about the infiltrators and if she had seen any.

"Oh, yes...dey do not hurt old voman.  Dey come...dey go.  Der Lady protects us.  She makes dem go 'vey."

"The Lady...The Countess, you mean."

"Yesss...der Lady...our Voevod, our warrior Lady...she giffs us protection...she giffs us justice...she even giff me dot nice cottage over dere.  Just between you und me, she giffs too much.  Vhen she comes to visit, I liff in der cottage.  Vhen she not here, I liff in my nice, cozy cave!"

"You mean the Countess gets rid of the troublemakers and spies?  But...I thought General Tepesh..."

The old woman hissed and drew back.  She made a sign, used by peasants all over Europe, to ward off the 'evil eye'.  "That one!  No!  Not him!  He is evil...evil!  He seeks to take our Lady from us!  He vants her, und her vealth!  He vill not get her!  She luffs der fair one from across the sea!"

"Yeah, Doc loves her, too!" Monk grinned.

"Goot!  It is time ve had Master in dis land!  Der Lady's eyes shine when she tells us to help him all ve can.  Dey vill rule long centuries...dey vill protect der people...I am content!"

"The old girl is great...even if she is a little batty," thought Monk.  "But that reaction to Tepesh...think I'll tell Johnny about that!  It may be just the thing he's looking for!"

"Speaking of help," Monk looked at the darkening sky, "You couldn't point out how to get back to the castle...uhh...could you?"

"Ach, to tell you how...no.  Der trail I know, but it is too late for old bones to stir far from my cave.  Vait here...I can help anudder vey."  She waddled to the back of the cottage and returned in a few moments with a donkey.  She was whispering in the donkey's ear.

"Here..." she led Monk to the animal and indicated he was to climb on.  "Now, Buska vill take you to der castle.  Vhen you get dere, turn him loose, he vill return to me."

Monk's eyes got big.  "D-d-did you just tell him to do that?"

She nodded.

"Are you a-a-a-a witch, or something?"

She cackled toothlessly.  "Uff course...GO, Buska!"

The donkey took off with Monk holding on for dear life!  He looked back over his shoulder.

The old crone had vanished!

CHAPTER 9: Danger on Two Fronts

"I don't like it!" a guttural voice muttered.  "Why must we cease our activities for the time being?  The local people were just beginning to listen to me!"

"Ha!" snorted another, "The local people were just about to string you up, you mean!  They are no fools!  Why should they listen to our revolutionary pleas when they are well content with her ladyship's yoke?  They would hang or shoot the lot of us if they could catch us!"

"They will never find us in these caverns!" piped up another.  "They do not even suspect their existence!"

"That bothers me also.  Why do they not know of these caverns?  This is their land!"  The first speaker shivered and glanced uneasily at the dozen or so men huddled about the small campfire.

"I can tell you the answers to your questions."  A quiet, competent voice came from the mouth of the cave.

"Ho!  Svorza!  Welcome back!  How was your trip to America?"

"Bad...we lost many men, and a very demon himself is now on our trail!  I tell you, oh my comrades, if this tiny fiefdom were not the stepping stone to our conquest of Europe, I think I would abandon our efforts here right now!"

"Tell us...what has happened?" a babble of voices threw questions at him.

He gave them a brief outline of what had happened in New York.  "The demon we sought to destroy is here in Mondania!" he muttered blackly.  "When our leader, the Dragon, learned of his arrival, you were immediately told to cease activities till we could assess the extent of the threat he poses.  He, unlike the peasants, has been given the freedom of the mountains.  he and his five men will soon find us here.  By stopping our activities for the present, we have given him fewer clues with which to work."

"What do you mean, 'he has been given the freedom of the mountains'?" interjected a brigand.

"Ahh...of course...you do not know what I have recently learned.  I will tell you."

The men gathered more closely about the fire.

"The Mosneni, the free peasants, have never discovered the caverns we inhabit simply because they are not allowed to wander through these mountains.  There is a centuries-old prohibition that encompasses these private lands of the Contessa's domain.  Criminals are punished by sending them into these hills at night.  They are never heard of or seen again!  The peasants shun these places as they would the very Gates of Hades!  They say that for untold centuries there had been a curse on these hills.  Upright citizens will not venture here!  So...you see...it is the perfect place for us to remain undetected!"

There was a nervous laugh or two around the fire.  A quavering voice finally spoke up.  "Svorza, are we safe here?  We have once again begun to lost men.  They just disappear!"

"Pah!  Deserters!" Svorza exploded.  "Are you children to be frightened by tales of ghouls and ghosts?  Can you not see that this is how the Countess keeps these lands inviolate for herself?"  He sensed that his information had raised superstitious specters in his men's minds.  He knew he must divert their attention.  "They will not share the wealth and power we shall have when the Dragon finds the Contessa's treasure hoard and we use it to foment revolution in other parts of Europe.  I tell you, my brothers, that with this treasure we shall sweep all of Europe under our heels!  There will be gold and women and power for all of us then!"

His men's eyes gleamed with greed and dreams of power.  He had them all with him now!

"I have just conferred with the Dragon.  His plans to infiltrate the Contessa's councils have been stymied by the bronze demon from across the sea!  Since we have failed to rouse the rabble against her -- and since we cannot move openly for fear of armed reprisal from the rest of Moldania -- our only hope to gain the treasure is for our leader to marry the Countess and legally secure access to her funds!  The bronze one has captured her heart...so, he must die!  All efforts are to be directed to this goal!"

"There are strange men in the woods.  We have watched them, but we have not allowed them to observe us," grated a voice from the pack of human wolves.  "Shall they be slain also?"

"For the time being, no!" smirked their captain.  "These are the five aides of the bronze man...and we can use them to better advantage.  Capture them and we can use them to lure the bronze devil to his death!  He values these men of his very much, if my information on him is correct.  He has been known to put himself in grave danger to rescue them!  The Dragon has said he will pay one thousand pieces of pure gold to the man who brings him the head of the bronze devil, Doc Savage!"

Greed lit the eyes of the men around him.  This was a small fortune!  They fell to plotting ways of entrapping Doc Savage!

* * * * *

Johnny looked up from the musty, ancient volume that reposed on his lap.  He had spent the better part of the afternoon searching this and a score of other tomes.   They were arranged around him on chairs, tables and even the floor.

His marvelous archaeologist's mind had categorized fact, legend, rumor and hypothesis -- and still, somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew there was a crucial point or two that he should know...or remember...that was eluding him.

He rubbed his eyes and signed.  Maybe Doc and the guys were right!  Maybe he was being creepy -- or silly -- or both!

"NO!" nagged his subconscious, "There's something...something..."

He returned to his perusal of the manuscript in his lap.  It was an ancient volume, bound in a smooth, silky leather.  He ran his hands across the bindings.  Dark golden hinges and gem-studded clasps gave richness to the pale leather.  His fingers tingled as he touched the supple covers...as if the book had a life -- a sentience -- of its own.  He had found this last book in hidden, ill-lighted nook.

He turned an illuminated page and proceeded to read.  Halfway through the first paragraph, he realized that this was one of the pieces he had been searching for!  He read avidly with dread growing in his mind.  By the end of the chapter, he was trembling.  He feared greatly -- but not for himself!

He rose, waded through the books piled about him and took the ancient tome to his room -- secreting it there for later reference.

"Got to talk to Doc!" he muttered.  Then he realized he hadn't seen anybody since lunch.  Doc could be anywhere in or around the castle!  It was imperative that he find Doc!  Johnny ran down the stair and collided with Ham at the bottom.

"Whoa, old bones!" laughed Ham, as he picked himself off the floor and proceeded to brush himself off.  Ham never ceased to be overly-particular about his appearance.  "You look like you've just seen a ghost!"

"I hope I don't see one!" moaned Johnny.  "Do you know where Doc is?  I've got to confer with him immediately!"

"Well...since you're using fairly small words -- for a change -- it must be important."  Ham sobered as he noticed Johnny's agitation.  "Monk and I sent him back to bed after lunch.  He really looked beat, and...Johnny?"

The gaunt geologist had turned and was racing for Doc's room.  Ham followed at a run.  Johnny knocked on Doc's door as Ham puffed up behind him.

Silence.

Johnny opened the door and walked in.  Across the room in the great canopied bed lay his leader.

The two men crossed the room, unease growing in their hearts.  Doc was usually a very light sleeper.  To the habit of being able to come instantly awake at any moment, he had owed his life many times over!  He should have been awakened by the knock -- and under no circumstances should Johnny and Ham have been able to walk up to the very bed without at least one golden eye ascertaining that it was indeed friends that approached!  This sleep was strangely deep and unnatural!

Doc's breathing was hollow, ragged, almost forced.  He writhed, as if in the throes of a terrible dream!

Johnny reached out a cool hand and laid it on his bronze leader's forehead.  Doc was burning up!  At Johnny's touch, he quieted...and before Johnny could remove his hand, he felt Doc's temperature plummet to normal levels.  Still, Doc did not awaken!

Ham grabbed Johnny's shoulder.   "What's wrong with him?!  What's going on?"

Johnny unbuttoned Doc's shirt and examined his still-unconscious leader.  "Look!" he whispered.

Ham looked where Johnny indicated.  His breath was an indrawn hiss of comprehension!

"C'mon!  We're going to need help...and I hop I know where we can find it!"  Johnny was out of the room and down the stairs at a dead run.  Ham was hot on his heels!

They charged through the front doors and piled into the vehicle waiting in the courtyard.  With a roar, the car rocketed from the castle compound, heading towards the town some miles distant.

* * * * *

Long Tom surveyed the hills before him and Renny.  "You know, we could ride our backsides raw trying to pin down the clowns we're after," he said.

"Yeah," agreed Renny, his voice rumbling like the thunder over the distant mountains.  "We've probably been within spittin' distance of 'em...and never known it.  Maybe we should go back and get Doc.  With his senses he'd surely pick up things we've missed."

"You've got a point there.  Let me try one other thing first." Long Tom reached into one of this saddlebags and brought out several small, black boxes.  Balancing himself expertly on the saddle, he used both hands to unfold the boxes and fit them together to form a complicated piece of apparatus.  It was a compact wave-directional finder.  he ran connecting wires to a battery stored in the second saddlebag.

"This thing draws an awful lot of juice, but if these guys are using any type of radio, we can get a fix on it!"  He flipped a switch and a whine emanated from the box.  Turning a receiver on top of the box gave him the direction of the strongest output.

Renny, a lap-board laid across his thighs, marked a straight line indicating the direction of the sending on the local contour map.  It headed into the heart of the lands they had explored the day before.

"Got it?" Lon Tom looked over Renny's shoulder.  "Good!  Now, we're going to go over to that ridge over there and take another bearing."  He flipped off the current to the box he held in his arms and wheeled his mount towards the adjoining ridge.

"Let's hope they're still sending when we get there," rumbled Renny, as he followed Long Tom down the side of the hill.

On the summit of the second ridge, Long Tom took another bearing.  The whine of the receiver indicated that the radio signal was still being broadcast.

"Bingo!" Renny chortled.  "Why didn't you think of this yesterday?"  He beamed as the second line he drew intersected the first.

"As a matter of fact," smirked the unhealthy-looking electrical wizard, "I did!  But I needed a little time last night to convert this thing to a horse-based portable.  Most of our equipment is made to be plugged into higher energy outputs than we can take along on horseback."  he dismantled the device and re-stowed it in the saddle-packet.  Then he leaned over and studied the map.  "O.K., let's see what we've got...here!"  He tapped the point of the intersecting lines.

Some time later, they approached the ridge from whence the radio signal had been beamed.

"Big ridge," muttered Long Tom.

"Yeah...but maybe we'd better leave the horses tied here," said Renny.  "They do make an awful lot of noise, and in the brush we'd probably do better afoot."

The intersecting lines were halfway up the hillside in an area that appeared to be covered with some sort of scrub-oak.  It was wicked stuff.  Stunted trees low to the ground provided a good cover for any natural caves that opened on the hillside.

"Right!"  Long Tom stuffed the map into a saddlebag and was preparing to swing off his mount when a bullet knocked him from the saddle.  Blood sprayed the horse's neck and tack.  It reared, terrified, and bolted for home...the smell of blood goading it on.

Renny dived for cover, whipping out his super-firer.  "Long Tom!" he bellowed, "You O.K.?"  He had seen the blood, which meant that Long Tom had been hit in an area not protected by the steel-mesh bullet-proof undergarments all of Doc's men wore.

There was no answer.  Renny tried to move silently towards where he had seen Long Tom fall.  He was immediately pinned down by a barrage of gunfire.

He swept the area of its origin with a spray of mercy bullets and was rewarded with the knowledge of several hits as men fell, sleeping, out of the bushes.  The bullfiddle roar of his pistol sent his horse careening away towards its home.

Silence reigned as the galloping hoofbeats receded.

Renny picked up a rock and skittered it into a bush not far from him.  A single sniper spewed lead at the bush.  Renny picked him off with one well-placed shot.

He eased out of his jacket and draped it over a large branch.  Pushing the jacket into view from under his concealing bush, he waited for it to draw fire from his ambushers.

Nothing happened.  Had he gotten them all?  He crawled from beneath the bush and edged towards where Long Tom had fallen.

His first glimpse of his buddy brought a gasp of horror from Renny.  Blood covered the side of  Long Tom's head, and he lay deathly still!

Renny re-holstered his super-firer and went forward to kneel beside Long Tom's recumbent form.  He did not hear the slight movement behind him, so he was surprised when the cold barrel of a rifle nudged the back of his neck...and a guttural voice said, "Please to put your hands up!"

CHAPTER 10: Nightstalker

Sundown came fairly early to the Balkan mountains at this time of year.  It was not a spectacular event.  The air here was so pure that there were few pollutants in it to refract the light and give the rainbow effect to which New York City dwellers are often treated.

Doc Savage stood on the balcony that opened of his room.  The sheer walls of the castle fell away beneath him, and beyond them, cliffs dropped jaggedly to the lake.  This protected western side of the castle had several of these small balconies.  He watched as the golden after-glow of the sun faded and became a soft mauve...purpling the lake and velvet hills to the north.  Lights twinkled in the small villages to the south.  It was a quiet, beautiful land -- a peaceful land that had not in the last four or five hundred years been successfully invaded!

"Odd...since it is on the border of a notoriously warlike nation," Doc mused.

General Tepesh's small contingent of troops could obviously not be responsible for this peace.  They, according to the villagers, had been around for only the past six or so months.  What mysterious force had kept this small fiefdom inviolate for half a millennium?

"That had got to be part of the mystery," thought the bronze man.  He was remembering Johnny's earlier statement concerning a cave filled with several hundred years worth of dead men.

As he turned to re-enter his room, a dark shape above him caught his eye.  It was huge and menacing, and had obviously come from somewhere further up on the castle walls.  It disappeared into the blackness of the northern sky.  Doc's gaze followed it for as long as he could see it.  Had it seen him?  He couldn't be sure, but something told him that the glowing red spots in the darkness that had swung in his direction had been eyes!  A small chill passed through Doc.  Could Johnny have been right?  Doc shook his head, as if the clear it.  "Ridiculous!" he told himself.  "That was just a large bat...or bird of prey."

There was a clatter of horses hooves in the stableyard.  That would be Renny and Long Tom.  Doc swung through his room to the stairs and was descending the stair when he heard Monk's roar from the courtyard.

"Doc!  Johnny!  Ham!  Dang blast it!  Where is everybody?"  Monk was frantic!

A bronze shadow materialized beside him.  "What seems to be the trouble, Monk?"

"Yahhhh!"  Monk jumped a foot into the air.  "Oh, dang it, Doc!  Don't sneak up on me like that!  Every time you do, it scares me outta seven years growth!"

"What seems to be the trouble?" repeated Monk's bronze leader.

"Well...I met a witch -- a real one, Doc -- and I can't find Johnny and Ham...they're missing...and Renny's and Long Tom's horses have just come back without them...an' one of the horses has blood all over the saddle!  Is that enough trouble for ya?!"

Doc whipped to the stableyard where two grooms were quieting the terrified animals.

As Doc walked towards them, the two horses rolled their eyes and stood trembling in fear.  This was decidedly odd, since Doc's usual effect on animals was a calming one.  He examined the saddlebags, finding the radio locating set and the map Long Tom had stuffed into the pockets just before he had been bush-whacked.  He also noted the dark stain which sprayed the saddle.  He touched it -- it came away red on his fingers.  He walked to the light and examined it.  "Blood, all right," he murmured.  He sniffed it and took a tiny bit on his tongue.  "Human!"  His eyes flashed a golden copper-red in the flickering torch light of the courtyard.

He returned to the horses and examined their hooves.  On the toe of each shoe was a small raised crest of the House of Aldea.

"All of the Countess's horses have these crests on the shoes?" he asked the groom.

"Yes, sir -- but only the Contessa's private mounts, such as these.  The troop horses and peasant horses do not."

"Then it should be fairly easy to backtrack these," Doc said.  "See that no one leaves the castle for a while...especially using the entrance where these horses came in."

Doc returned to the castle with Monk on his heels.  He raced to his room where he scooped up his equipment vest and donned it on the run back down the stairs.

"Monk, you stay here and learn what you can of Johnny's and Ham's whereabouts.  I noticed the car was gone from the grounds in front.  Maybe the servants know where they went."

"Awwww Doc, can't I come with ya?  Looks like Renny and Long Tom have run into some trouble!"  Monk hated to be left out of what promised to be some rough and tumble action!

"No."  Doc was firm.  "I need someone here to liaison with Johnny and Ham when they return."  He did not mention that he knew he could make better time on the backtrail alone.  He studied the map, etching it into his memory...then handed it to Monk.

"This is presumably where they were headed."  He indicated the intersecting lines of the radio beam.  "The horses' backtrail should lead there -- but until I'm sure it does, I'll follow it.  If we're not back by morning, get the police, troops, villagers, anyone you can -- and storm this point."  He was gone into the darkness before Monk could even say "Right, Doc!"

The great bronze form glided into the night.  The rising moon shimmered on the rippling muscles of his body as he ran effortlessly.

The horses hoofprints were easy to follow, since they were fresh.  The prints of the day before had been smoothed by the night breeze of the evening before.

Doc soon discovered that thanks to the moonlight and an uncanny sharpness of his night vision -- that he had not been aware of heretofore -- he actually  made better time without using his flashlight.  This was good, since it might allow him to sneak up on Renny's and Long Tom's captors without advertising his presence.  He pocketed the flashlight and proceeded by moonlight.

The trail was crystal clear to his night senses, all of which seemed heightened to a superlative degree.

Suddenly, he stopped, listened for a moment, then stepped off the trail -- silently melting into the bushes.

A moment later, three shadows that had human forms slunk into view on the moonlit trail.

"See," hissed one, "I told you there was nothing here.  The horses will not even have roused the castle yet!  It will be a while before the bronze devil will come looking for his two men."

A small trilled note wavered on the evening breeze -- then was gone.

"What was that?" whispered another voice.

"I don't know!  Derni, are you all right?"  A mere rustle of sound answered him.

"Hssst...Derni..."  A tiny night insect seemed to alight on the cheek of the shadow-man.  He suddenly went to sleep on his feet.  As he fell, he was caught and laid silently on the forest floor.

"Igor...what had happened to Derni?"  The 'insect' had flitted to the third shadow-man.  Within seconds, he, too, was asleep on the forest floor.

A bronze wraith glided once again on the horses' backtrail.  As he went, Doc re-pocketed several small items that looked like bronze finger-tips.  They had fitted Doc Savage's fingers like a second skin.  This 'skin', however, contained several small needles in each tip.  Doc had only to brush the skin of any enemy to inject a minute amount of potent anesthetic.  The men would sleep for twelve hours -- or until a counter-agent was administered.

The trail was harder now.  The men walking along it had partly obscured it...but not completely!  It was as if they had taken care to leave some of the trail visible!

"They allowed the horses to escape...to lead us back this way!"  Doc reasoned.  "There are probably more traps ahead.  I must be cautious!"

A twinkling in the soft moonlight caught his attention.  Tiny silvery strands, no bigger than a spider's web-line, were strung across the trail.  Doc brushed one with a leaf.  The place where the web-wire had touched was suddenly eaten away.

"Acid," thought Doc.  "Probably mixed with a potent poison!"  The acid would have opened the skin and let the poison enter the bloodstream of anybody or anything brushing the fine wire.  He took a large branch and broke the silvery threads before proceeding.

The trail had been getting fainter; brush and brambles growing in the center of it.  The floor of the trail looked almost natural.  Few would have seen the tiny indication that a pit had been dug there and covered over.  Doc was circling the pit when he heard a small tinkle of glass beneath his boot.

A grim expression crossed his features as he realized he'd just broken one of his own anesthetic balls!

Renny and Long Tom had had these on their persons, no doubt, and their captors had fathomed the purpose of the small glass balls.  They had set the pit trap to draw attention from the sides of the trail.

The anesthetic gas in the tiny glass balls mixed instantly with the air and rendered anyone breathing it unconscious for about an hour.  The funny thing about the gas was that if one held his breath and didn't inhale it, the gas would have no effect on him whatsoever.  In something less than a minute, the gas mixed with the air and became ineffective.

Doc had long ago perfected this anesthetic gas, and he and his men used it often to capture malefactors without otherwise harming them.  It irked Doc to find others using his own science against him!

Doc took about three steps and suddenly went limp...as if he had fallen asleep on his feet.  His falling body crashed into the underbrush.

CHAPTER 11: Doc to the Rescue!

"Got him!" a guttural voice laughed in the darkness.  "See, he wasn't so hard to trap!"

"He got past the others!" a second voice whispered.  "I still don't like it.  I won't be happy till my knife parts his head from his body!"

The two forms advanced on the recumbent form of the giant bronze man.  They bent over him with evil intent shining in their eyes.  A knife slashed downward in the moonlight towards the unprotected bronze throat beneath their hands.

Suddenly, they couldn't breathe!  They tried to scream and couldn't.  A great bronze hand had each one of them by the neck.  With a quick movement, Doc Savage brought the malefactor's heads together.  Quick oblivion claimed the two.

Doc examined them, noting that their unconsciousness was of the non-lethal variety. The two men would be out for the rest of the night.  He picked up the knife one of them had dropped and flicked it away into the brush.  A pistol from one of his attackers he tucked into his belt.  It joined one had had taken off an earlier ambusher.  Doc did not usually carry firearms, for he was of the opinion that men who carried such weapons came to depend on them too much, thus inhibiting their own inventiveness for alternate methods of dealing with a situation.  These, however, might come in handy later.  If he found Renny and Long Tom, the weapons would help to arm them.

Doc, of course, had not at any time been unconscious.  As soon as his ultra-fine hearing detected the tinkle of glass, he had stopped breathing.  He had had a split second warning by the breaking glass before the liquid in the balls had vaporized to form the anesthetic gas.

Do moved carefully to the trail.  He retrieved half a dozen of the glass balls that had not been broken.  He tucked them  in a padded inner pocket of his utility jacket, then drifted into the night.

Doc surveyed the trail ahead of him.  It was obvious that he was expected.  There would probably be several more traps ahead.  These men seemed to have a certain amount of proficiency and a great deal of tenacity.  Sooner or later, if he continued in this way, Doc might miss something and fall victim to a clever trick.

Doc considered.  The deadly nature of the previous traps -- as well as the murderous attitude of the knife wielder -- told him that these men were not out to capture him.  They wanted him dead!  Allowing himself to be caught would be a very fatal mistake!

His mind's eye flicked to the map he had given Monk.  Mentally he traced the backtrail of the horses on it.  They had come straight off the mountain, using a large deer-run.  According to the map etched in his amazing memory, the run would bring him out on the ridge of the intersecting radio lines.

There was an easier and safer way of getting there now that Doc was sure of his destination.

Doc removed his boots, tied them together with a piece of cord from his utility vest, and slung them over his shoulders.  Then he took to the treetops, his agile feet clinging, ape-like, to the rough bark of the branches.

Traveling quickly and silently through the upper foliage, he noted several other groups of men lingering on the trail.  In the case of solitary lurkers, he simply used the anesthetic fingertip injectors...until his supply was exhausted.  After that, he had to resort to the compression of certain nerve centers that left his victims paralyzed for several hours.  In the case of multiple lurkers, he would work his way to a spot directly above the men and drop the tiny gas balls among them.  When the gas had rendered the ambushers unconscious, he would descend, disarm the traps and administer a potent injection that would knock the men out for at least twelve hours.  He would then continue on his way.

As he moved through the treetops, he mused on the odd nature of the whole set-up.  Why had not these men banded together and attacked him 'en masse'?  It would have given them a much better chance to overwhelm him.  There had been times when even his Herculean strength had been overcome by sheer numbers of assailants.

He could not know of the small fortune that had been place don his head.  Greed -- the desire to split the fortune between only a few -- had fragmented the group.  Several parties of two or three had broken off and had sought to capture or kill Doc on their own.  Greed had ultimately done Doc a favor.  had not these first few traps shown him the folly of allowing himself to be captured, he might have tried just that...to get a line on the whereabouts of his men.

Now he sat crouched in the fork of a tree, his keen, gold-flecked eyes surveying the ridge before him.  A large and well-deployed body of men surrounded a small clearing ahead of him.  Had he progressed on the ground, he would have undoubtedly fallen afoul of this trap, and been overwhelmed.  There were a good twenty men waiting for whoever attempted to backtrack the two horses.  It was just possible that they did not know of the smaller traps set by greedy individuals nearer the castle.

Doc's eyes swirled and danced in the moonlight.  He was seeing things no ordinary human could have seen.  His amazing orbs had detected the signs of the fight that Renny had put up in the clearing.  He needed to get closer -- to inspect that clearing at close range.

He moved silently, like a bronze ghost, to the upwind side of the group.  The anesthetic gas balls that he had used on the other groups had been expended.  He reached into his vest and extracted three small objects that looked like grenades.  These, too, contained an anesthetic gas, but it was a lot more potent than that in the glass balls.  It also did not require that its victims inhale it, since it acted on contact with any exposed flesh.

Doc made sure he was well upwind -- out of range of the gas he would release.  Since he was not wearing a protective over-all covering, he might easily become a victim of his own trap if the wind shifted.

With uncanny accuracy he placed the grenades where he wanted them.  He smiled grimly as the night breeze swept across the ridge, bearing a somnambulistic blanket that put all in it s path to sleep.  Men toppled, snoring, out of the bushes.  They would be unconscious for the rest of the night.

When he was sure that no gas lingered in the clearing, he descended and began a quick but thorough survey of the area.  From minute details that would have escaped even a trained woodsman's eyes, he pieced together what happened earlier.  His eyes grew grim as he examined the spot where Long Tom had fallen from his horse.  Displacement of the earth and the location of the bloodstains that had soaked into the ground told him the wound was in the head area.  It was a good possibility that the electrical wizard had met his end here!

Doc's eyes crackled vengeance!  If any of his men had been harmed, the mastermind of this political turmoil would pay -- dearly!

The signs told him that Renny had been captured and forced to carry Long Tom's body towards a stand of scrub-oak.  Doc moved silently, like a great bronze wraith, on the trail that was now flecked with blood.

A short distance down the trail were two more sleeping men.  They were close enough to the group of ambushers to oversee them and yell orders -- but far enough away to escape readily if things went against the hidden group.

Doc turned the bodies over and gazed on the faces of his captives.  An exultant, victorious trilling filled the woodland.  Doc's gas trap had felled the leader of the spy ring and one who was obviously one of his top lieutenants!  He searched the garments of the two men, extracting several small note books and papers.

After a quick perusal of the documents, he secreted them on his own person.  he now had proof of the identity and intentions of the group.  Since they would be unconscious for the remainder of the evening, he let them remain where they had fallen and he proceeded on the bloodstained trail.  The whereabouts of Renny and Long Tom were his primary concern now!

The trail led through the scrub-oak to a cavern that disappeared blackly into the side of the hill.  Doc examined the ground in front of the cavern.  Renny's footprints were there.  They were sunk into the ground more than they should have been for his weight, so Doc assumed Renny was still carrying Long Tom's body.

Doc listened intently to the sounds emanating from the cavern.  They were so faint that only Doc's auditory acuteness could have perceived them.  The sounds brought a smile to his bronze features.  It was the sounds of two men struggling to free themselves of their bonds.  Two!

He thumbed on his small flashlight and entered the cave.  he was immediately glad he had taken the chance of showing a light, for stretched across the cavern at knee-height was a fine wire.  It was connected to a large charge of explosives.

Doc quickly disarmed the trap and continued into the cave.  The labyrinthine structure of the cavern walls twisted and turned, branching alcoves here and side tunnels there.  Some were storage areas that held supplies and equipment.  Doc examined such equipment as he found.  The revolutionaries had made good use of these caverns.

Doc followed the sound of the two struggling men.  he entered a branch off the main tunnel.

The flash beam spotted two bound and gagged forms in the back of the alcove.  Doc also picked out the fine layer of dirt that had collected in a crack across the floor.  Cracks in the tunnel floor had not been unusual.  There were many of them.  But this one had collected a goodly amount of dirt...and the dirt was oddly displaced.  Doc once again inspected either side of the cavern and disconnected a cleverly hidden trip wire.

The tow men had ceased to struggle when the flash light had spotted them.  With their eyes unused to light, they were blinded for a few moments.

By the time their eyes had adjusted to the light, they found their bonds were disintegrating beneath two bronze hands.

"Holy cow!  Doc!" Renny rumbled as he spit the gag from his mouth.  "How'd you find us?"

"Backtracked the horses.  How's the head, Long Tom?"  Typically, Doc did not elaborate on the perils he had encountered on the backtrail.

"I'll live.  It's only a scalp wound, but it knocked me out for a while...and Renny told me it bled like a 'stuck pig'."  Long Tom's voice conveyed only part of the rage he felt.  "We were really suckered!  They set us up!  Lured us here with a radio beam and ambushed us!"

"Yeah," interjected Renny.  "They were going to use us as bait to get you!  Someone's put a small fortune on your head...DEAD, not alive!"

Things fell rapidly into place.  "I think I know why!" mused Doc.

"What about the guys that captured us?" rumbled Renny.

"Twenty of them are out front taking a nap...and there's a few more along the trail that won't wake up till morning either."  Doc smiled.

"Doc, there's more than that," Long Tom said.  "A large group went east through the tunnels earlier this evening.  They're due back sometime soon."

"We'd better move out, then," the bronze man rejoined.  "Take these in case we meet any opposition on the way out."  He handed each man one of the guns he had appropriated earlier.

They proceeded cautiously through the tunnel, searching for traps or returning men as they worked their way to the opening.

A large pile of equipment near the entrance that he had not had time to examine earlier diverted Doc's attention for a moment.  He stopped to examine it just as Long Tom cried out "Hey!  There's our super-firers!"

Lying on the floor near the entrance were the special pistol used by Doc's men.  They carried a clip of sixty shots each and were far superior as weapons to the guns Doc had managed to acquire.

Renny and Long Tom raced to retrieve them.

Doc's eyes snapped in the direction of the find.  Those guns had not been there when he entered the cavern!  "WAIT!" he yelled!

Too late!  The cavern mouth exploded into tons of cascading rock!

CHAPTER 12: Into the Arms of Death!

A bronze whirlwind had exploded behind Renny and Long Tom!  They had both been hurled bodily from the mouth of the cavern.

They picked themselves up and looked behind them.  There was no more cavern!  Tons of rock had closed it completely!  Dust and debris still roiled in the moonlight.

"DOC!" Long Tom yelled!  Shoving his pistol into his belt, he ran forward and began tearing at the fallen rock.

Renny joust stood and looked with horror at the cave-in.  Doc had saved them -- but at what a cost!  Buried beneath the collapsed hillside!

Could Doc still be alive in there?  Renny doubted it -- but Doc had pulled off seemingly impossible tricks to save his own life many times before this, so it was possible.  If Doc was alive -- and Renny decided that he'd only believe in Doc's demise when he saw his lifeless body -- he'd need help...fast!

Suddenly he was shaken nearly off his feet.  Great rumbling s all along the ridge of hills sounded -- followed by shots, explosions and muffled screams!

"What the..." Long Tom ceased his frantic digging and backed off as the after-shocks cascaded more debris where he had been standing.

"The whole ridge is coming down," rumbled Renny.  "Whoever set this trap for Doc has cooked his own goose!  All the caverns are so inter-connected and honeycombed here that destroying one knocked out the support factors of the others!"

A drifting cloud obscured the moon, as another shock of settling earth jerked both of them off their feet.  It was a fortuitous happening.  The whine of half a dozen bullets cleaved the space they had been standing in.  They scuttled for cover behind a large boulder, whipping out their pistols as they went.

Flashing fire from discharging guns and the returning light of the moon showed them where their ambushers were located.

"Lurking out here to kill anyone who survived the cave-in!" muttered Renny as Long Tom picked off a sniper.  "Dammit...shoot to wound!  Doc would..."

"Doc's trapped, dying or dead...because of them!" Long Tom's voice was icy rage.  "They'll get a s much mercy from me as they showed him!  You shoot to wound if you want to -- I'm not wasting any ammunition...we don't have that much, and a wounded man can still shoot back!"

Long Tom grimly put another bullet between the eyes of a sniper.  "Doc's still in there!"  He pointed to the collapsed cavern.  "If he's not dead already every minute they detain us here increases his chances of dying before we can get him dug out!"

Renny eyed the cavern.  "It's gonna take more than just us to dig him out -- that's a major engineering project!"

"All the more reason for haste!  Time is on their side!  Doc's death is their primary objective at this point."  Long Tom peered around the boulder and was rewarded with a barrage of gunfire.  There were at least half a dozen men out there.  That was enough, in the darkness, to keep them pinned down for hours!  In those hours, Doc could surely die!

Suddenly, from the direction the snipers came a ghastly scream -- followed by shots and snarls.  The single scream was followed by others!  There was a great thrashing in the underbrush...then, silence!

Renny and Long Tom peered from behind the boulder.  The bushes rustled and from them a dozen large, gray wolves stepped into the clearing, blood dripping from their jaws.  They advanced in a closing semi-circle on Renny's and Long Tom's hiding place.  More followed them.  Close to thirty wolves ringed their position.

They looked at each other.  It was the end, they knew!  Their ambushers had had far more men and fire-power than they...and had been overcome!  The bloody muzzles of the approaching pack gave grisly, silent testimony.

The pack stopped half-way across the clearing and parted as two wolves pushed to the fore.  One was a hoary, white old wolf...the other, a sleek, black young leader.  The black's eyes glowed red in the moonlight.  The two leaders stopped and assessed the humans before them.

"Oh boy...here it comes..." whispered Long Tom.  Renny could only nod in mute agreement.  They braced themselves for the charge of the savage beasts before them.

With a growl, the great black wolf cleared the ring of encircling grays.  The white followed on the black's heels.  They trotted away form the group and headed along the ridge, disappearing in the vicinity of the collapsed cavern.  As if this were a signal, the thirty-odd gray wolves melted away into the night.

Long Tom and Renny were dumbfounded!  They couldn't believe what they had just seen.  A trip across the clearing to view the remains of half a dozen men convinced them that what had happened was real!

"Holy cow!" breathed Renny, as they surveyed the carnage.  "you think it's safe to beat it back to the castle?"

Long Tom cast a glance at the collapsed cave front.  "I don't think we have a choice!  We've got to rescue Doc...even if the horrors et upon us in the woods!   The maps we made are going to hold us in good stead...if we can remember them."

Doc had had the only flashlight, since their had been confiscated by the brigands when they were captured.  Some of the shorter trails were too obscure to negotiate in the shifting shadows so they had to stick to the heavier trails.  They headed for the castle as fast as the intermittent moonlight allowed.

* * * * *

Dirt, dust and falling debris formed a foul miasma in the air as tons of rock settled.  In caverns further along the ridge, the earth still rumbled and fell, but in the cavern where the explosion originated, all was deathly still.

Doc Savage uncovered his head, which he had been protecting with one mighty arm.  He was bleeding in a dozen different places.  The wounds, made by falling shards of rock, were small and uncomfortable, but were not a major problem.  The main difficulty facing him now was to get out of what seemed to be a solid rock prison.

Loitering to check a pile of equipment, he had been behind his men as they had left the tunnel.  Doc had seen Long Tom hit the well-concealed wire and had known what was about to happen.  There had been time for only one action.  Either his men would be buried by the falling rock...or he would!  With a choice like that, there was no choice!  The lives of Doc's men always came first!

He had thrust them bodily into what he could only hope was clear night air, even as the tons of rock descended.  The complicated maneuver of hurling them forward while propelling himself back as far as he could would have torn an ordinary human in two, but Doc had trained his Herculean body for just such emergencies!  His massive muscles had thrown him almost clear of the descending debris.  Almost!  The upper part of  his body was free...but his legs were trapped!

He attempted to move them.  There was no pain, so he assumed there was nothing broken -- but he could not wiggle free of the debris.

Throughout the episode, Doc had maintained his grasp on his flashlight.  An invention of his own, it was run by a spring-driven generator.  One twist would produce a stream of brilliant light for several minutes.

A pencil-fine spike of light lit the darkness.  One twist of the lens end spread the beam into a wider spray of light.  Doc assessed his position.  It would take some time to dig himself free of the enveloping rockslide.

Muffled shots from the direction of the outside argued the need for haste!  His men had apparently run into the gang that had rigged the trip wire after he had entered the cave!  Assuming Doc would find the traps planted in the cave as he went in, the gang had prepared a trap for Doc and his men on the return route.  Someone in the group was fiendishly clever!

He dug with feverish haste, taking care, however, to shore up the pile as he worked.  He didn't want to dig himself out only to have the debris shift and bury him again!

The unstable stuff was treacherous.  Doc had not made an appreciable amount of progress when he felt his head reel.  He stopped, held his breath and listened.  Form somewhere within the cavern came the hiss of pressurized air escaping.

GAS!

Johnny had warned of natural gas pockets!   Apparently this was one that had been ruptured by the explosion!  It was leaking gas into the area where Doc was trapped!

Doc tested the air.  It was already getting difficult to breathe.  He assessed the amount of time needed to extricate himself.  There was only one conclusion.  He was a dead man!

The falling rock had not killed him -- but the gas surely would.  The calm expression on his face did not alter.  He had been too close to death too many times for it to frighten or unnerve him.  Somewhere in the back of his mind he had always known that sooner or later he would get himself into a situation that would be fatal.  He could only hope that Renny and Long Tom were all right.

He went grimly back to digging until his senses once again spun.  Half-fainting, he sagged to the rubble-strewn floor.  Colored lights...like tiny dust motes...played before his eyes.

As he wavered on the threshold of unconsciousness, a tiny current of semi-fresh air revived him.  He lay with his face in the stream of air, breathing slowly and deeply.  He was charging his lungs with oxygen -- not unlike the pearl divers of the South Seas.  In this way, he could possibly hold his breath as he dug.  Doc had strengthened his lungs to such a capacity that he could hold his breath for far longer than the average person.  If the stream of fresh air held out, he might yet succeed in freeing himself.

It didn't.  Even as he formulated the plan, the current of air ceased.  Some falling debris had closed the draft that had been pulling the air stream through the rocks.  A falling rock narrowly missed his head.  It landed, instead, on the tiny flashlight, flipping it out of his reach.  Darkness enveloped him.

Doc ran his hands over the concealed pockets in his jacket.  Several of his gadgets were still operative, having survived the explosion and rock-fall.  Unfortunately, many had been damaged beyond repair.  One of the items that had been damaged was the same type of portable breathing device utilized a day earlier by Johnny.  Had it not been damaged, Doc would have had a chance -- as it was -- he was in dire straits!  He checked his other pockets quickly.  None of the surviving gadgets would do him any good in this situation.  Flares and chemicals would only consume what precious little oxygen was left in the air.  Explosives would only bring down more rock.  Acids and grapples were useless.  Had he been in a shore area, he might have had oxygen tablets with him -- but in a mountainous area, they had been supplanted by other things.

There was little he could do.  He wracked his amazing mind for a way of escape.  There was none!  Every movement consumed more oxygen than it was worth.  He lay back in the darkness.  He knew he could expect a short period of hallucination before death claimed him.  The appearance of the colored lights when he had nearly passed out earlier told him that.  There was obviously some impure element in the gas that affected the brain to cause it to see things that were not there.

His thoughts wandered in a mental farewell to his men.  There had been good...and perilous...times with Monk, Ham, Renny, Johnny and Long Tom.  If he regretted the fact that he was about to die, it was only that he knew his death would bring grief to these men -- as theirs would have to him.  He dared not even think what it would mean to Orlonda.

Orlonda!  Her face floated in his mind's eye.  His mind reached out to her...

A pinpoint of light lit the darkness where no pinpoint of light could be.  It grew and coalesced into a shimmering cloud of luminescence.

"Hallucination!  It will not be long now," Doc thought dreamily.

The cloud formed a figure.

*Hallucination*

Death floated towards him in the shape of a beautiful woman...with midnight eyes!

"Orlonda!" For a moment, Doc thought she had found him!  "No," he realized, "She is nebulous, ethereal, unreal!  It is the hallucination.  Is it a cosmic cruelty that Death comes in the guise of the only woman I have ever allowed myself to...love?!"

He floated on a sea of delirious detachment as he watched her approach.  With a few deft strokes of her hands, she scattered the rubble that had pinned his legs.

"Impossible!"  *Hallucination*

She bent over Doc and, as her lips kissed the very breath from his being, he felt a lifting and floating sensation before he blacked out.

Pain wracked his senses.  It was a piercing, bittersweet pain -- vaguely familiar, half-remembered -- that jarred him to consciousness.  The pain started at his throat, then spread to any agony that convulsed his whole body.  It hovered for an exquisite moment, then peaked and melted to hot, flowing ecstasy.  He writhed with the undeniable erotic sensations that flashed, lightning-like through him.

Suddenly, his body shrank in upon itself -- withering, dehydrating, burning,...BURNING??

"No!"  Doc attempted to fight what was happening...but there was not resisting the crimson haze that was enveloping him.  Hallucination or...Hell?!  "NO...surely not that..."

Death loomed above him with a pitying smile on its beautiful face.  Cool lips smothered the fires raging in his body and left only a consuming dryness.

"Drink...join with me..."  A crimson stream had appeared on the snowy bosom of Death.

"No..."  Doc knew that to drink the very blood of Death itself would surely seal his fate -- and probably damn him as well!

"Fool!" whispered a voice, "The blood is the life!  Drink not and doom yourself!  Drink...'ere you perish!"  Death cradled his head in its soft arms, guiding his nerveless lips to the scarlet flood.  he sought to resist, and found that his muscles would not obey him.

The fluid was warm and bitter.  At the touch of its first droplets, life and energy began to return.  Could it be true?  Doc drank -- hesitantly at first -- then deeply.  Since all was hallucination anyway, did it matter?

But...if it were not...hallucination!  If it was, instead, illusion!  If somehow Johnny was right...

With a super-human burst of energy, Doc flung himself away from the enveloping form.

Flaming eyes commanded him to halt as the form enlarged and became a giant blackness in the shadows of the cave.

Doc staggered for a few steps, then fell heavily to the floor of the cavern.  he glared defiance at the flickering red orbs that seemed suspended in mid-air.

A low laugh filled the cave.  "Fearless, defiant and strong!  Yes...I have chosen well!  Soon you will not fight me...you will come to me freely!"

There was a swishing, leathery sound and the thing was gone.

Doc did not see it go -- indeed, he had not seen anything since he had, with the last remnant of his strength, fled the stifling embrace of the thing.  His glared defiance was his last act as an oblivion that was more than unconsciousness claimed him!

CHAPTER 13: Doc's Dead!

Renny and Long Tom stumbled through the underbrush.  They were on one of the deer-runs that they knew would lead them close to the castle.  They had traversed this way yesterday on horseback.  It had seemed a lot shorter then.

Several times on their journey from the cavern they had heard crashing in the brush beside them.  Once it had been a great buck.  'Kicked out' of concealment, it had fled into the night -- its white 'flag' of a tail waving warning to others of its kind.

The next crashing proved to be more ominous.  Paralleling their course on either side of the trail were several great gray wolves.  Their yellow eyes gleamed balefully in the moonlight.  Once a scream near them indicated the wolves had pulled down something.  The scream sounded human.

Long Tom and Renny looked at each other.  "Should we check that out?" Long Tom queried.

"The wolves haven't harmed us...even though they've had more than enough chance.  Y'know, it sounds weird...but I think they're guarding us!  My vote goes to getting to the castle and getting help for Doc above all else!" Renny commented.

"My sentiments exactly!" returned Long Tom.  "We thought this was going to be an open and shut case of political intrigue...but it's been getting creepier and creepier!  I don't mind telling you...there's too many weird things going on here for my peace of mind!"

They moved on towards the castle, the lupine escort following.  At the edge of the castle grounds, they looked back.  The wolves were gone!

* * * * *

Consciousness came minutes or even hours later...Doc wasn't sure.  He did know that he hadn't died.  He hurt too much to be dead!  The cuts and bruises of his entrapment smarted and there was an icy ache deep within him that he couldn't identify.  "At least it proves I'm alive!" he thought.

Doc reached out and felt rock.  It was smooth and debris-free.  He felt his pocket and found his flashlight.  It did not work.  A swift examination by his super-sensitive fingers told Doc that the bulb had been broken by the falling debris.  Replacement bulbs reposed in a padded interior chamber.  It was the work of moments to replace the broken one.  The adjustable lens was beyond repair, so the spray of light would have to suffice.  But...how had the flashlight gotten in his pocket?

He looked around.  The cavern he was in was not the one in which he had been trapped.  Had he somehow, in his delirium, managed to free and drag himself here before unconsciousness claimed him?  It seemed to be the only answer.  The bare, hard rock floor gave not clues.

A cool fresh current of air blew through the cavern.  It was obviously this that had revived him.  Doc tried to rise, and was stricken by a great lethargy -- a consummate weakness!

Something was very wrong!  He was away from the gas which had filled the other cavern.  The current of air was obviously blowing the gas out of this chamber.  His strength should be returning -- but, instead, he was becoming weaker and weaker!  He felt his own pulse and was horrified!  It was shallow, rapid -- practically non-existent!  What was worse, it was getting weaker by the second!  He knew that if he didn't get help fast, he would die!  His death wouldn't be from an outside cause, like gas, this time -- but from the breakdown of the vital functions of his own body!

The puzzling thing was that there was no logical reason that his body should be behaving like this!  Doc mentally gave himself a thorough check-up.  There had been no causative factor to precipitate this kind of physical reaction!  He was a doctor...he ought to know!

He lay back and immediately felt better.  Never had his body failed him as it had on this expedition!   Could he have contracted some kind of debilitation disease?  His doctor's mind scanned the diseases that could produce this kind of weakness.  Most were tropical diseases whose bacilli would not survive in this climate.  In any event, he was well inoculated -- as were his men.

His men -- there was a clue!  They were all healthy and robust as horses!  Only he had been affected.  What was the one thing he had done that they had not?  He could think of only one thing.  He'd fallen in love!  But it couldn't be that!  Love didn't kill you.  The human race would never have gotten this far if it did!

His head swam and a small chill passed through him.  There was something else...a shadow...if he could only remember...  He began to wonder if he'd finally gone up against something he didn't...or couldn't...understand, and it was this that was killing him!

He lunged to his feet, then doubled over to keep his head and heart on the same level.  The movement made him slightly light-headed, but he didn't experience the pervading weakness that an upright position brought.

He headed for the closest opening in the surrounding rock.  One breath of the air in the connecting corridor was enough to send him reeling back. It was foul with the taint of gas.  He could not escape that way!  He turned and headed into the air flow.

The cavern formed a winding tunnel that soon connected to a large chamber.  From it tunnels branched off in various directions.  Some of these were foul with gas -- others had clean air blowing into them.  In a few, he could hear the muffled voices of trapped men.  He decided to follow the strongest air stream, since this argued an exit somewhere.

He staggered through the tunnel.  When he came to branches in the tunnel walls, he used chalk from his equipment vest to mark his route.  This way, if he started going in circles he would know.

His spring-run flashlight probed the darkness ahead of him.  There was a sharp turn of the tunnel wall.  He rounded it and stopped dead in his tracks!

Before him, its eyes glowing redly in the light from his flash, was the biggest, blackest wolf he'd ever seen!  Behind it, in a leaf-strewn grotto, reposed an old, white wolf.

Two pairs of red eyes gleamed wetly as they scanned the crouching, bloody figure of the man before them.

The black positioned itself in front of the white -- then lay down and proceeded to ignore Doc.

Doc watched the wolves.  He was bleeding in a dozen places, and had fully expected the scent of blood to excite an attack.  He had braced himself for a charge from the great black one ...at least.

Since the black had moved back into the grotto, the way was clear into the tunnel.  Doc moved as quietly and gently as possible past the recumbent animals.  So dulled were his senses from pain and exhaustion that it wasn't until he was beyond the wolves and well into the continuing tunnel that he realized that the wolves might have let him trap himself in a dead end.

He lifted his head and tested the air.  It had a slightly musty smell tinged with oil or wax.  Oil or wax -- the kind one uses to polish wood!

He staggered forward and came upon a well concealed door -- slightly ajar.  It was from here that the stream of life-sustaining pure air had flowed.  Had not the door been slightly ajar, it was doubtful that Doc would have seen it; so cleverly did it resemble the back end of a cavern -- and so dulled were his normally acute senses.

He squeezed through the portal, and gazed at the chamber into which he had come.  A small trilled note wavered on the air for a second.

Caskets, coffins, stone sarcophagi gleamed in the flash's light.  The tombs beneath Castle Aldea!  Across the chamber was the concealed entrance to the Countess's private chamber.  Did she know of this other cavern connection?

Doc did not attempt to close the portal.  His strength was fading so rapidly that he knew he must reach the upper levels of the castle before it gave out altogether!

The lower cellars and kitchens were deserted.  A look at his watch told Doc it was nearly dawn and servants would soon be swarming here -- but not yet.  He headed for the main floors.

He used the hallway walls to hold himself up now.  His strength was all but gone.  He rounded the corner to the main hall and sighted his men congregated in the hall.  Renny and Long Tom had made it after all!  They were gesturing wildly towards the front doors.

"Brothers..." Doc said.

He saw them turn to him, joy suffusing all five faces.  It was the last thing he saw before blackness claimed him and he crumbled to the crimson carpet.

"Doc!"  The glad cry of his men at his appearance gave way to gasps of horror as their chief dropped before their eyes.

They had just heard Renny's and Long Tom's tale of the incredible night, and had been preparing to organize a search and rescue mission to dig Doc out of his rock prison.

To have him enter in the midst of their preparations wasn't unusual -- Doc had pulled this trick many times!  To have him walk in and collapse was unheard of!

They ran to Doc's side.  Johnny turned him over and reached for a pulse.  He searched frantically, horror growing on his face.  His hand flew to the spot just beneath the ear that was a sure pulse point.

"Johnny...?"  Monk's voice was a tremulous whisper.

Johnny's head drooped.  He heaved a shuddering breath.  When he looked up at his friends, his eyes were grim.  "I can't find any pulse...Doc's dead!"

CHAPTER 14: Horror in the Morning!

"Doc's dead!"

How many times had they heard that phrase?  How many times had it not been true?  They couldn't remember.  Doc's body had always been faked, missing or destroyed -- and he's always turned up later to save the day!

There was no refuting the evidence of their eyes this time, though.  Doc's body was here beside them and one of their own group had pronounced him dead!

There was no doubting it!  They had all seen dead men before.  As soon as the heart stops, there is a draining of blood from the extremities of the body.  This draining produces a deathly pallor and drawn look peculiar to corpses.  They looked at their leader.  He was pale and drawn -- as if he had no blood left in him.  Death had surely reached out and touched him!

They couldn't reverse the process either.  They weren't Doc!  Several times his men had been near death or technically dead and Doc had, with his wonderful surgeon's skill, revived them!  They had not his skill!  They could never do for him what he had done for them.  They could only mourn their fallen leader.

"Doc..."

Monk knelt beside his friend, tenderly reached down and gathered the still-warm body in his arms.  Great sobs wracked his frame as he cradled Doc's head on his shoulder and lifted him effortlessly.  Monk's massive strength carried the quiescent bronze form through the main hall and up the stairs.  The others followed, stunned.

Monk was about to lay Doc's body on the bed when a tiny breath stirred the hairs of his neck.  "Johnny!" Monk whispered, his eyes growing big, "Doc's alive!  I just felt him breathe!"

Johnny jumped to Monk's side, grabbing for Doc's wrist.  "Yes...there's a pulse now!  The movement as you carried him must have nudged his autonomic responses back into working...but the pulse is so weak..."

"That ain't it, Johnny.  I didn't do nuthin'!  Doc just wouldn't die...that's all!" blubbered Monk as he laid his leader on the bronze sheets.  Doc was so pale that the bronze hue of the sheets looked dark beside his skin.

A strange light came into Johnny's eyes.  "Dammit!  Of course!  He needs blood...a lot of it!"

All eyes swung to Monk.  It was well known among them that only Monk had a blood type that was compatible with Doc's!  It was, in fact, exactly the same -- which was odd considering the semi-rareness of Doc's blood type!

"You got it!" Monk affirmed.  "Every drop -- if that's what it takes to keep him alive!"

Johnny smiled and surveyed the room.  "I doubt if Doc would approve of that!" he said.  "Ham, get Doc's medical kit from the equipment cases.  Renny, Long Tom push that bureau over here.  It's higher than the bed and Monk can lie on it so the transfusion can be made by gravity.  We don't have time or equipment for anything fancier."

Johnny's instructions were complied with immediately.  Monk climbed aboard the bureau and lay down.  Ham shoved a pillow under his head.

"Awww, shyster, I didn't know you cared!"

"I don't...about you!  But you're our only chance for keeping Doc alive -- so, until he's out of danger, you're solid gold!"  Ham sniffed back.

It was a good sign that the friendly quarrel was resuming.  The only time these two didn't verbally snipe at each other was when things were hopeless!

Monk settled back and let Johnny rig the hook-up that would drain his blood into the veins of his friend and leader.  The rest of the group stood and watched both men with anxious eyes.

A faint flush suffused Doc's features as Monk's blood flooded his veins.  His breathing, which had been shallow and almost non-existent, became stronger, deeper.

Finally Johnny spoke to Monk.  "O.K., buddy, that's it!  I don't think we can take any more from you without harming you."

The gorilloid chemist looked at Doc.  He was still awfully pale as far as Monk was concerned.  "No...give him some more," he said.

"Monk...we don't want to lose both of you!"

"Dammit, Johnny, if Doc doesn't pull through -- I don't want to either!  If it takes every drop of my blood to save him -- by God, I'll give it to him -- and you'll see that he gets it!  Understand?!"

Johnny nodded.  Of course he understood.  Every single one of them would gladly have given his life to save their big, bronze leader.  It was a monumental misfortune that only Monk had the necessary blood type!

When Doc's condition finally stabilized, Johnny reached out and disconnected the transfusion apparatus.  "Ham, go get something for Monk to eat or drink...something with a high sugar content to help build his blood sugar back up."  Ham rushed out and was soon back with refreshments for his erstwhile 'enemy'.

Monk was transferred to a couch and the bureau was returned to its original spot.

Johnny bent over Doc's unconscious figure, checking his vital signs and examining him for any major damage.

"What happened to him?" queried Renny.  "Was it the cave-in?"

"No..." returned Johnny.  "I'm no doctor, but I have enough medical first-aid training to know there's nothing broken...and what appears to be no major internal injuries.  Long Tom, would you get me Monk's portable lab..."

The pallid electrical wizard quickly brought the highly compact lab from Monk's room, and all watched as Johnny took out two specimen slides.  Scraping some dark crystals from the corner of Doc's mouth onto each of the slides, Johnny left one as crystals...and added a drop of distilled water to the other.  It pooled blood red on the glass.

"Damn!" Johnny's oath was a whisper...but the room was so quiet that it sounded like a thunderclap.  He walked grimly over to Monk, a slide held securely in each hand.

"How do you feel, Monk?"

"O.K., I guess.  What's up?  Is Doc..."

"Holding his own for the present.  Listen, can you do an analysis lying down?  I don't want you overtaxing yourself, but there's some information I've got to have."

"Sure...if it's not too complicated.  Whatcha want to know?"

Johnny proffered the two slides.  "Is this Doc's blood type?" he asked.

Monk looked puzzled.  "Didn't you just take that off him?"

Johnny nodded.  "Yeah -- but it was in the corner of his mouth, and there are no cuts to explain it.  If it's his, he could have internal injuries.  If it's not his..."  Johnny's voice tailed off as his worried gaze returned to the great bed and its occupant.

"Then we hope it's not his -- 'cuz internal injuries could really do him in in this hospital-forsaken backwoods!" Monk muttered.

"On the contrary -- we pray that it IS his!  If it isn't...God!...I don't want to think about THAT!"  Johnny was shaken.  Ham helped the gaunt geologist to a chair.

"What we discussed earlier?" he asked.

Johnny nodded.  "Get me that stuff we picked up this afternoon," he told the dispirited lawyer.  Ham quitted the room on a run.

Renny and Long Tom converged on the shaking geologist.  "What is it?" they queried, almost in unison.

"I'd rather not say until I'm sure," Johnny murmured.

"Oh...terrific!  He's 'pulling a Doc'!" rumbled Renny, as he threw up his hands in disgust.

Doc had a nasty habit of 'clamming up' whenever he had a hunch about something but no real proof.  His men had gotten used to this.  Now, it seemed, Johnny was afflicted with the same 'mollusk-mouth' tendencies.

"Monk...?"

"Gimme half a minute more...there!  Got it!"  Monk looked up with wide eyes.   "Johnny...it's...NOT...Doc's blood!  I don't know whose it is...but it's definitely not his!"

Johnny closed his eyes and nodded his head.  It was the verdict he'd expected.

Ham had entered in time to hear Monk's diagnosis.  His eyes had a dull and lifeless look as he handed Johnny and ornate inlaid box.  "There's still a chance...isn't there?" he asked.

"We'll see," said the gaunt geologist, as he carried the box to the bed.  He set it on a night-stand and opened the top.  All the men -- except Monk, who was still lying on the couch -- could see what was in the ornate receptacle.  There was a vial of water, several white wafers in a silver and crystal case and half a dozen silver crosses on delicate chains.

Monk drifted to the bed.  Dizzy-headed or not, he wasn't about to be left out of any information pertaining to Doc's strange condition.

Johnny handed each of the men a cross.  "Put these on -- and don't take them off again till I tell you!" he said grimly.

"C'mon Johnny, the 'vampire' stuff again?" Renny smiled.

Johnny expression sobered Renny instantly.  "Why do you think Doc needed so much blood?  Those minor scrapes?  You think they bled him dry?!"  He spun to Doc's body and spread his collar.  "LOOK!"

Two angry red welts flamed at the base of Doc's neck.  They might have been mistaken for very nasty insect bites.  They were right over the path the Jugular vein took from the head to the heart.

Long Tom eyed the box beside the bed as he slipped the silver chain over his head.  "And those?" he indicated the box's other contents.

"These will tell us how bad it is...and...perhaps protect him if it's not too late."

"Too late?!  Whatta you mean...TOO LATE?!"  Monk was frantic!

Johnny steeled himself.  They had to know...

"All right.  Part of this I...knew...part I found in an ancient volume today.  Doc's been attacked by a vampire!  That much is evident.  What we need to ascertain now is how many times this has happened!  If he's been bitten three or more times, there's no hope!   No matter what we do, he'll dies and become one of ...them.   If it's only two...I think we can rule out one, since Ham and I saw the same marks there yesterday afternoon and they didn't look half as bad then...there's a chance we can save him.  His body's reaction to any sanctified object will tell us if he's still...human."

"And if he's...NOT...?" Renny's usually booming voice was a small whimper.

"We'll have to...kill him...cleanly...with a stake through the heart!"  Johnny's voice was a sob of anguish.

"NO!"  Monk was shaking.  He was barely able to stand.  Ham moved to the apish chemist and helped to support him.

"Do you think Doc would want to exist like that?  Drinking the blood of living human beings!  Killing to keep himself...not even alive...and not being able to stop himself?!  Would he want that?  Dammit...you know he'd rather be dead!"  Johnny's cheeks glistened with wetness.  He turned to the bed, wiping the tears from his eyes.

Johnny took the cross and placed it on Doc's chest, just over the heart.  Doc's breathing quickened and his body shuddered in a tiny convulsion.  Johnny lifted the cross off to expose the skin beneath where it had rested.  There was only the tiniest of red outlines where the cross had lain.  The mark soon faded.

"Johnny...?"

"It's a good sign," he said.  "If Doc were a true vampire by now, that would have burned his flesh raw!"

The Holy Water and Wafer left pale red marks also, but neither had a truly searing effect on Doc's skin.  Johnny's relief was evident.  "Thank God!  We're in time!" he murmured.

Nervous smiles of relief flickered on the surrounding faces.  Renny's face became graver, more puritanical -- as it always did when things were looking up.

"Johnny," Long Tom interposed, "What about the blood on his lips?"

"Yes...that is a complication.  At this point, I'm not sure what it means!" Johnny mused.

Doc stirred uneasily on the great bed.  All eyes swung to the bronze man.  It was evident that he was fighting to regain consciousness.  His eyes flicked open briefly...then closed as he lost the battle and drifted back into unconsciousness.

"Cheeze!  Didja see that?"  Monk whispered.   "His eyes were like new copper pennies!  They weren't gold...they were RED!"

Johnny nodded.  "A mark of the vampirism.  You'll probably find that his canine teeth are sharper and longer than usual too."

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Renny rumbled.

"Make him comfortable...and keep him away from the...thing...that did this!  The longer it takes for the vampire to return and finish him off -- the less power it'll have over him."

Johnny went to the connecting bathroom and returned with a basin of warm water.  He began to bathe and dress the many small wounds that covered his chief's body.

"We'll have to take turns guarding him -- both to prevent the vampire from coming to him...and to prevent him from going to the vampire."

Ham and Renny moved to help Johnny.  They soon had Doc divested of his tattered clothing, bathed and re-clothed in clean garments.

"What do you mean..." muttered Long Tom, "Doc will go to the vampire...?"

Johnny's eyes were tired as he surveyed the darkened room.  "Yes.  Once the vampire had tasted even so much as a drop of his blood...from that moment on, Doc was totally under its power!  It can 'call' Doc and he'll have to go -- if he can!  That's why we have to be here...to protect him and restrain him if necessary!   We can't let him out of our sight!"

"I think I know who the vampire is, Johnny. "  Monk said.  He related his experiences of the previous day.  "It's Tepesh!  He's out to destroy Doc so's he can have the Countess!"

CHAPTER 15: Doc's Aides Take Over!

"Holy cow!  That's right!" thundered Renny.  "Remember the look he gave Doc the other night?  Pure DEATH!  He hated Doc bustin' up what he thought he had goin' with the Countess."

"I know the feeling..." smiled Ham.  "I think anyone who thought they had a chance with that lady would have felt...well...at least a twinge of jealousy!  There's something irresistible about her..."

"Yeah..." Monk sighed dreamily.  He had forgotten himself enough to agree with Ham.

"Indubitably!" murmured Johnny.

"Ummm hmmm..." Even Long Tom's eyes got soft at the mention of the Countess.

Renny looked at his companions.  Every single one of them had fallen for her...so he wasn't alone!  Even that woman-proof paragon, Doc, had succumbed.  Renny eyed the unconscious form of his bronze leader.  Succumbed to love...and nearly died!  Doc had been right!  Women and adventuring just did not mix well; when your mind was on one...it couldn't be on the other!

"Blast it all!"  Renny eyed the ornate paneling of the door to Doc's room.  He desperately needed to punch out a panel to relieve his growing frustrations.  He marched over to the door and took careful aim.

"Don't you DARE!"  The Countess opened the door just as he was about to let fly.

"Oop...uh...YES MA'AM!"  Renny sheepishly lowered his massive fist.

"You'd have broken your hand, Mr. Renwick.  These doors are solid oak -- they are only carved to resemble panels.  However, should I find any of them damaged, I will come looking for you...and I will not be at all pleased!  Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes Ma'am!"  Renny had detected a bit of amusement tempering the admonition.  He quickly decided, however, that no amount of frustration-release was worth incurring the wrath of this woman.

"Is Clark here?...Oh...!"  Her eyes widened as she peered around Renny and saw the rest of the group congregated in the room.

At the sound of her voice, the others had formed a living wall between her and the bed.  Since it was in the shadows, they hoped to prevent her from noticing its contents.  "We're waitin' on him, Countess."  Monk lied glibly.  Actually it wasn't really a lie...they were waiting on Doc...but Monk wouldn't have balked at telling a bigger whopper than that to achieve whatever ends he wished.

"Oh?  Well...the servants said none of you were about this morning.  Should I have some lunch sent up here?  It is rather late in the afternoon, you know."

"That would be most kind of you, Ma'am."  Renny, noting what his colleagues were about, escorted her to the head of the stair.  "Don't you worry..." he said, "Your...doors...are perfectly safe...now!"

She eyed him curiously.  "You're all acting somewhat peculiar.  Is anything wrong?"

"We'll let you know...after we...uh...talk to Doc!"  Renny hoped his smile was reassuring -- rather than the semi-hysterical that he felt at the moment.  He gave a small sigh of relief when she descended the stair.

He rejoined his friends in Doc's room.  "Whew...that was close!" he muttered.  "What we do NOT heed right now is a fainting woman on our hands!"

"Personally," drawled Ham, "I think she could probably handle it.  She's a very capable lady -- not really the type to get hysterical on us."

"I hope you're right," said Johnny.  "With Doc out of commission, we're going to need all the help we can get!  She'll have to learn about this sooner or later."

"Later...I hope..."  Doc's normally powerful voice was but a whisper.

His aides rushed to his side.  It was evident that he was fighting to maintain his consciousness.  His men knew that an effort like this would only be made if his subconscious need to impart vital information!

"Brothers...there's a cave connection in the northeast wall of the tombs beneath the castle...behind a large marble sarcophagus.  It may yet be open...men trapped in the tunnels...need help..."

"O.K. Doc, we'll get 'em out," rumbled Renny.  "Long Tom, get us some super-firers and..."

"No...there's gas...don't use any type of explosive...or guns...you'll blow up the caverns!   Take...breathing devices...be very...careful..."  Doc lost his tenuous hold on consciousness.

"Terrific!"  Ham snorted.  "If we do what Doc wants us to, we'll be saving lives...but leaving him unprotected!  What do we do now?"

"Johnny knows what to do to keep him safe," Long Tom offered, "...and Monk's too weak to go..."

"I ain't either!" Monk squeaked!  The idea of being left out of some action was anathema to him.

"You are too -- so shut up and sit down!" Long Tom snapped.  "Besides, Monk, if Doc needs more blood you've got to be here!"  It was a weak excuse and they all knew it.  "Anyway...why don't Ham, Renny and I see what we can do about Doc's request.  Johnny and Monk can stay here with Doc."

"I will stay with him also," a soft contralto voice said.

The Countess stood at the doorway, flanked on either side by serving girls bearing trays of food.  She crossed to the bed, took one look at its contents and whirled to face Johnny.

"Professor Littlejohn...what means this?"

"Doc was..." Johnny hesitated only a moment, "...injured rather badly rescuing Renny and Long Tom.  There was a cave-in in some tunnels, and he was buried for several hours.  He lost  a lot of blood and is very weak.  We've given him a transfusion...and he seems to be recovering somewhat, but he needs to be watched over.  Renny and Long Tom say there's been a hefty price put on his head.  There may be other attempts on his life!"

"Attempts on his life?!  Why only him?  Why not all of yo...if you are making things uncomfortable for whoever is out there!?"  The Countess's eyes snapped fire.

"We don't know!"  Long Tom attempted to soothe her agitation.  "We learned enough -- when we were prisoners -- to know that it has something to do with a band of would-be revolutionaries trying to get their hands on a great treasure.  Somehow, Doc, alone, stands in their way so he's the main target at this point.  We don't know who they are or why only Doc stands in their way...or anything about a treasure!"

The Countess nodded.  "The wealth of my land has, for generations, led our greedy neighbors to the east to believe we have vast gold hoards at our disposal.  They are after this...legendary...treasure..."

She crossed to the bed and sat gently upon its edges. She reached down and lifted one of the quiescent bronze hands to her lips.  "For something they cannot even be sure exists -- they would take you from me..." she whispered.  "You, who are my greatest treasure..."

A great silence descended on the room.  Doc's men eyed each other uncomfortably.  They were adventurers -- men use dot rough and tumble action; fast paced and hard-hitting!  This glimpse of the quiet, timeless, pervading love -- that their very life-styles denied them -- shook them to their marrow.

They moved as quietly as possible to relieve the serving girls of the heavy trays; then fell to eating as only famished men can eat.

After they finished, they headed for the equipment cases -- most of which had been brought to Doc's room.  Color-coded boxes yielded numerous self-contained breathing devices.  There were easily enough for the three men who would venture into the tunnels.  The extras they tucked into packs for the use of anyone they found alive in the gas-filled caverns.  They they dug into the spare-parts box and used bits and pieces to jury-rig several more of the  breathing devices.  By the time they were ready to leave, each carried half a dozen extra devices.

Ham and Johnny conferred as they worked on the assembly of the packs.

"Any particular reason why you didn't tell the Countess about the vampire marks?" Ham whispered.

"She's a logical victim, and I don't want her frightened," Johnny said.  "Besides, I'm not sure she'd believe me any more than Doc did.  I'll keep an eye on her so she's safe...don't worry."

"Hmm...you've got a point there."  Ham smiled as he swung his pack to his back.  "O.K., ol' bones, you take care of the lovers and the Ape...and we shall see what lurks in the bowels of the earth.  If we can find anybody alive in there, maybe we can learn for sure what goes on around here!"

* * * * *

The kitchen was agog with the news that the two serving girls had brought back.  Like most people -- whose lives are rarely touched by excitement -- the members of the staff at the castle were highly interested and excited by the strange things that had been happening ever since the American adventurers had arrived.

They whispered and muttered over the accumulation of strange events -- embellished by the stable-boy's anecdotes of the previous evening.  They were equally intrigued when three of the group came through the kitchens asking directions the the family vaults beneath the castle.

Several of the young men offered to accompany the three, but were told that the mission was fairly dangerous and that the extra breathing devices would be needed for the men they hoped to rescue.

"We will accompany you as far as the fresh air permits -- and stand ready there to assist with whomever you bring back," offered one of the the grooms.

This was agreeable to Renny, Long Tom and Ham, so a sizable group moved off into the tunnels.

They had not seen the two men who listened at the windows of the kitchen.

"So!  The bronze one is gravely wounded!  Perhaps, sir, he will perish of these wounds, eh?"

"I think so!  It is fairly safe to assume, from what we've just heard, that it was he who overcame us and took the documents connecting us with this activity.  It's also evident that in the excitement, his aides have not found the documents.  We must retrieve them at all costs!" snarled the other.  "You must decoy the ones who guard Doc Savage away -- then leave the bronze devil to me!  It will be a pleasure to deal with him -- in my own way!"

A low and very evil laugh escaped from his lips as the two snuck past the kitchen entrances and melted into the shadowed halls of the rambling stone edifice.

CHAPTER 16: Doc's Choice

Renny, Long Tom and Ham moved stealthily through the tunnels.  They had left their escort back at a central cavern, from which branched several tunnels.  Most of the tunnels were filled with gas by now.  Many had the bodies of men -- some buried by cascading rock -- others obviously trapped and killed by the seeping gas.

They worked their way eastward, marking passages as they went so that they could find their way back.  They conversed by way of compact amplifying devices built into the breathing apparatus.  Earlier editions of these devices had had no such refinements.  They had had to 'talk' by utilizing the deaf and dumb sign language.  Since this often led to difficulties in communication, Doc had developed the miniaturized amplifying devices these newer models contained.

"Did you see the stuff in that last cubbyhole?" muttered Long Tom.  "These caves have been used by men for years -- centuries!  Some of that gear was a hundred years old!"

"At least!" snorted Renny.  "I thought you said these hills were off-limits to the peasants!"

"So we were led to believe in the village," interjected Ham.  "I wish Johnny were here -- he could tell us if these artifacts are local or imported.  My own theory is that the local people don't come here...this stuff all belong s to people who have used these caves for invasion or espionage purposes!"

"Then why hasn't the country been invaded in the past several hundred years?  Aldean rule is at least five hundred yeas old!" rumbled Renny.

"I don't know. I think maybe Doc has an idea, but he's not saying till he's sure," muttered Ham.  "Which, of course, leaves us pretty much in the dark...as usual!"

"Look at it this way," philosophized Long Tom, "A little mystery keeps life interesting!"

They moved deeper into the tunnels, going through areas where the air was still pure; pockets of fresh air created by erratic drafts in the surrounding  gas.

Suddenly, a movement ahead of them in the cavern caught their attention.  Their lights picked up the terrified face of a man.  He scuttled backward into the dark cave, screeching as he went.

"Hey!" yelled Renny, "We're here to rescue you...Holy cow!  Why'd he run?"

"They've been trapped down here all last night and today," suggested Ham.  "Their minds are probably close to snapping!  And...look at us!  With this gear on, we probably look like phantoms and demons in the flash's light!  Did you hear what he screamed?"

"I can speak some of the area language, but the local dialect generally loses me," muttered Long Tom.

"He said...'wütrich!'...that's 'monster'!" explained Renny.

"More accurately, 'bloodthirsty monster'," Ham corrected him.  "He thinks we're werewolves or vampires...or worse!  At least, since he's alive and kicking -- or should I say running? -- the air in here is O.K.  Should we take off the devices?"

"No!" said Renny, as he eyed the cavern walls.  "There's no telling when the gas will penetrate here.  We're safer this way -- even if it gives those guys the 'willies'!"

"He went down this way," Long Tom offered, flashing his beam down an offshoot of the tunnel they were traversing.

His light picked out a group of men huddled in a rubble-blocked tunnel.  They were obviously terrified.  One nervously aimed a gun in the direction of the light.

"NO!"  Renny forgot what words of the language he knew.  "Don't fire -- we're friends!"

The babble of foreign sounds reverberating in the closeness of the cave only tipped the cup of the gun-man's terror over!  He fired wildly at the approaching figures!

"Holy cow!  Run for it!  They're nuts!"  The three men turned and charged back through the tunnels.  They could hear the men screaming in hot pursuit of the 'demons' they had 'scared off'.

"Renny," gasped Ham, "Shouldn't we..."

"We should run like Hell!" roared Renny.  "When they hit a gas pocket with those weapons firing, this cavern is gonna go 'BLOOEY'!"

Suddenly, behind them, there was a great flash.  A cataclysm of sound and rushing air and debris threw them forward, battering them nearly senseless against the walls of the tunnel.

They weakly picked themselves up.  The floor of the cavern was shaking.

"RUN!" yelled Renny.  "Everything's coming down!"

They ran!  They had almost made it back to the central cavern where the Aldean servants waited when the tunnel around them collapsed!

* * * * *

The Countess had quietly cleaned up after the departing three men, ringing for the servant girls to take away the remains of their repast.  She then proceeded to gather up Doc's soiled clothing which his men had discarded in a corner.  It was in pretty poor condition.  She curiously extracted a number of vials and containers from padded pockets.

Johnny took charge of these, explaining some of their uses.

"It would seem Clark is usually prepared for anything!" smiled the Countess, her eyes widening at the suggested uses of some of the implements.

"There's only one thing that's every thrown him for a loop!" murmured Johnny.

"And that...?"

"Is you!"  His eyes were accusing -- almost as if he blamed her for the bronze man's present condition.

She stared at him, and it was as if a veil had suddenly been drawn from her eyes.  Johnny all but reeled from the impact of the emotion he saw there!  It was a timeless, haunting, devastating, consuming love.  She drew the emotional veil -- once again shielding her soul.  "And that is what he has done to me!" she whispered.  "No man has ever, ever done to me what he has done!"

She turned from him and walked to a shadowed corner of the room.

Johnny let her go, and sank wearily back into a large chair near Doc's bed.  He had been two days and a night and a half without sleep, and it was beginning to wear on him.  The tension of the situation had eaten up the normally large reserves of energy that, under normal circumstances, would have kept him going for another day before exhaustion would have claimed him.

Monk had fallen asleep on the couch, and both Johnny and the Countess had deemed it good to let him get some rest.  He had given Doc more of his blood than he could really afford without some debilitating side-effects.

Johnny's eyelids drooped.  He jerked himself awake.  He dared not fall asleep tonight!!

The Countess was apparently examining something else she had found in Doc's clothing.  She looked up and saw Johnny's predicament.  She rose and crossed to him.

"Professor Littlejohn, get some sleep.  I will keep watch and call you if anything untoward happens."

"But...you...don't know..."

She touched a finger to his forehead and said..."Sleep".

Blackness, like soft, ebon velvet, swallowed him.

She gazed for a moment at the two sleeping men, and smiled a soft, sad smile.  She turned and glided to the bed.

"Now, beloved, it is our time," she whispered.

The golden eyes of Doc Savage fluttered open.  Had her will called him back to consciousness?  He watched dreamily as her soft, white hands began to undo a bandage that swathed his neck.

Suddenly, her eyes widened in terror, and she shrank away from him.

Something was dreadfully wrong!  He touched the bandage and was aware of something warm.  It was a tiny chain with a talisman -- a cross, his sensitive fingers told him -- that had been entwined in the dressing.

A cross?  Warm to his touch?  The woman he loved shrinking away from it in horror?!

The hot light of understanding flamed in his eyes and a trilling filled the room.  It was trilling such as the world had never heard before!  It held no joyous notes -- only profound knowledge...and a pervading sadness.  His expression begged her to refute the knowledge he had gained.

His hand closed around the cross.  It was warm to his touch, but not uncomfortably so.

She spoke no work -- her eyes said all.  "Take that off and we may be one -- throughout eternity!  Retain it -- and what we had can never again be!"

She could command him to remove it and he would have to obey...he knew this!  WOULD she command him..."

She dropped her eyes.  No...the choice was his.

She did, however, have one last ace to play.  She raised her eyes once again and Doc saw mirrored there the cosmic love for him that had forced her to do what she had done.

His lips tightened to a fine, almost imperceptive line as his eyes closed.

Suddenly, the whole room shook!  Great rumblings filled the night air.

Monk and Johnny snapped awake and rushed to the curtained window.  Pulling aside the heavy draperies, they looked out.

"Oh my God!" breathed Johnny.  "The hills are collapsing!  The caverns have been blown up!  Renny...Long Tom..."

"Ham!" wailed Monk.

The two raced across the room, through the door and down the stairs.  the Countess moved to get out of their way.  She followed them to the head of the stairs, and watched as they disappeared in the direction of the kitchen.  She returned to the shadowed room.

Her eyes widened as she saw Doc Savage's outflung arm.  In his hand was the remains of the neck-bandage and a broken silver chain.  The cross was nowhere to be seen.

Her way to him was clear now!  "But...why?" she mused.  Had he accidentally broken the chain when returning unconsciousness claimed him...or had he chosen to give himself to her deadly embrace?!

Did it matter?  He was hers now.  Her lips brushed his and traveled across his cheek to the pulsing life-stream in his throat.  She paused a moment above the tiny wounds she had made twice before.

Doc's eyes flickered open briefly, then closed...as a deeper unconsciousness claimed him.  His exhaled breath formed two whispered words.

She hesitated a moment, then her eyes flashed fire as the tiny, sharp canine teeth pushed against his jugular.

CHAPTER 17: The Deadly General

Johnny and Monk tumbled into the kitchen, where the women were scurrying like frightened mice.

"The tombs?  Where?" Johnny rapped.

The women were too frightened or muddled to answer.  Monk began flinging open doors until one belched dust and swirling dirt.

"This way!" he yelled, diving through the opening.  Johnny followed, soon caught up to Monk and assumed the lead.  The exertion was telling on the homely chemist.

"Dang place has more doors than Doc's office has push-buttons!" muttered Monk.

"Yeah..." agreed Johnny.  Then he stopped dead in his tracks.  "Doc's OFFICE!!  Oh, Lord!"

Monk all but crashed into him.  "What the..."

"Monk!"  Johnny was near-hysterical.  "You've got to go back!  You've got to save Doc!  Monk...the Countess is the vampire!"

"Are you daft, or something?" queried Monk.

"No...you see, it's the one clue in the back of my mind that I couldn't remember!  In Doc's office the night the Countess and the Premier were there -- I saw the whole room reflected in the window just before that plane shattered it!  Everyone was there -- except the Countess!  There was no reflection of her...the chair she was sitting in was empty!"

"You're sure?"

"Positive!"

"Oh, no...we left her alone with him!" gasped Monk.  "But...what about the guys?"

"I'll see about them...you get back to Doc!  He's got some protection on him, but it may not be enough!"

Monk turned and scurried for the upstairs.  Johnny hesitated a moment, as if unsure of which direction needed him more.  The yelling of men decided him.  He turned and raced into the tombs.

The mouth of the tunnel still boiled with dust.  Further in, Johnny could hear coughing men digging wildly at a collapsed wall.  The great central cavern had apparently withstood the shock of the falling tunnels due to its dome-like structure.  The stable-boys and grooms that had followed Renny, Long Tom and Ham into the caverns were digging frantically at one of the tunnel mouths.  Johnny joined them.

They dug for some time -- each minute seeming like an hour in the dust-choked atmosphere.  Johnny wished he had retained some of the breathing devices -- but they were all with the three trapped men!

Suddenly, a huge slab flew into the chamber!  Behind it was a massive fist!

It was only minutes  later that all three adventurers were standing -- dirty, disheveled, but distinctly alive -- in the great chamber.

"Large wedge of stone fell and shielded us when the rest of the tunnel collapsed," Renny said by way of explanation.  The three had only sight cuts and bruises to show for their harrowing experience.

"Damned idiots panicked and started shooting!" growled Ham.  "They're all dead in there, that's for sure!  So much for Doc's grand rescue scheme...we can't say we didn't try!"

In the moment of silence that followed that pronouncement, they were able to faintly hear the choked scream of horror that came from the upper reaches of the castle.

"Doc!" Johnny charged from the cavern.  The three had heard the note of wild hysteria in the gaunt geologist's voice. T hey leapt after him as fast as their battered bodies could take them.

* * * * *

Monk had charged through the kitchen, scattering serving girls and cooks.  He raced to the stairs and looked up.  He could just make out Doc's doorway from where he stood.  Next to it was the figure of a man.  Monk knew that figure!  It was General Radu Tepesh!

With a bellow, Monk flung himself up the stairs.  At the top of the stairs, he was grabbed from behind.

Monk had always been a scrapper-par-excellance, but he was not at the peak of his condition at this particular moment.  Under normal circumstances, his attacker wouldn't have stood much of a chance against Monk's massive strength.  Monk, however, was still weak from the loss of so much of his own blood.  he was quickly clubbed unconscious.

"Doc...I've failed you..." was his only thought as blackness claimed him.

Svorza grinned at his chief.  "The bronze one is yours, Master!" he sneered as he dropped Monk's inert form to the floor.

"Keep watch here.  There may be others coming."  Tepesh eased the door open and slipped into the room.

Svorza slipped back into the shadow.  He had no doubt that his leader would finish the bronze devil that had haunted his dreams ever since he had first seen him on the flying field of Long Island.

He had not even time to squeal when a cold hand reached out of the blackness and snapped his neck.  His dying sensation was one of terrifying red eyes boring into his very soul!

The dark form hovered above Monk for a moment, then moved to the door that Tepesh had entered.

* * * * *

She had been poised above Doc Savage's throat when she had heard the stealthy steps outside the door.  Wishing no interruptions to their unholy nuptials, she had drawn back and become an insubstantial shadow near the door.

Monk's fate had alerted her to the second menace at the head of the stairs.  It was the work of mere seconds to dispose of that one.  A moment more assured her that the gorilloid chemist had suffered no permanent harm.  She was glad -- for she had grown to like these friends of her beloved.

There remained, however, the one before her.  She watched as he crossed the room.  She would be sure of his intent before she acted.  The papers and documents she had found secreted in Doc's clothing had pointed to these two as the ring-leaders of the band of would-be invaders off of which she had been feeding for months.  If he posed no threat to her chosen mate, Tepesh could continue his puerile plotting.  He would get nowhere...and after all, food was food!  Having a handy supply meant she did not have to range so far into enemy territory for sustenance.  Her own people had been safe from her predations for centuries.  She had protected them...and they had protected her!

Tepesh crossed cautiously to the great bed.  It was obvious that he had great respect for the bronze giant's abilities...for he circled the bed, checking the recumbent form form all directions.  He was taking no chances with this one!  The servants had gossiped that he was near death...and so it seemed, but one could not be too careful!  He wet his thin lips.  He should have let Svorza handle this...

He eased the second pillow off the bed and circled to the side on which the bronze man lay.  If Doc Savage were truly as weak as the servants seemed to think, a few moments beneath the suffocating pillow would suffice to kill him!  'Death from respiratory failure' the coroner's report would read.  He would make sure of that!

Tepesh smiled to himself.  It would be so easy!  He could see it now...sorrow over Doc Savage's death would drive the Countess into his oh-so-comforting arms!  He pushed the pillow down on the unconscious face of the man whose death he desired above all else!

The massive form beneath him convulsed weakly.  Feeble as the defense was, it nearly unbalanced Tepesh.  he steadied himself and pushed down harder!

The attack, when it came, was totally unexpected!  One second Tepesh had been sure of victory over his nemesis; the next, he was flying through the air to crash against the far wall!

A cold hand lifted him effortlessly by his neck.  The strength in that grip was terrible!  Tepesh opened his eyes to gaze with horror on his captor.  It was the regal form of the Countess Aldea!  Her eyes blazed blood red in the low light.

"SO..." she hissed, "Miserable, cowardly worm that you are...you would seek to take from me the one man who, in FIVE HUNDRED YEARS, has proved to be the only one worthy of being my mate!  Cur!  He is MINE!  Never will your filthy human hands harm him!"

She tightened her grip on his throat, and he choked and turned purple before she threw him to the floor.

She turned to the bed to assure herself of Doc's well-being.  He was still breathing.  Good!  If he died now, of natural causes, he would be lost to her...truly dead, as were the others she had fed on for centuries.  If a would-be invader left her country after the first attack, she would let him go.  If he persisted in his aggression against her country, she would feed on him a second time...then give him a quick, natural death by tearing out his throat.  Only those who died from being bitten three or more times would become vampires like herself.  She had used this fact to keep her fiefdom from being over-run with the numerous vampires her predations would otherwise have produced.  She returned her attention to the man on the floor.

He had used her moment of inattention to collect himself for a spring.  He leapt at her...and passed through her as she became ebon mist.

Stark terror suffused his features as he realized the nature of his adversary!  He had not dreamed...!  Here was the answer to the losses his forces had sustained.  He had recognized the bodies of the slain men found in the forest as those missing from his band.  He had been at a loss to explain the nature of their deaths!  He knew he would take this knowledge to his grave if he did not do something...fast!  He sought to dodge around her and break for the door!

A lightning-swift hand snaked out and once again gripped him by the throat.

"Puerile fool!  You will not escape to inform the authorities of my existence!"  She smiled a deadly smile as she dragged him effortlessly to the balcony.  "Nor shall I soil my lips with your cowardly blood when my mate awaits my nuptial kiss!"

She held him above the abyss for a moment, savoring his terror!  It was as much as he deserved for attacking her beloved!

His wail of terror was cut short as he snapped her hand, tearing out his throat.  His lifeless body fell to the rocks below.  She opened her hand, and what had been his throat followed him.

The Countess looked with distaste at the blood that dripped from her hand.  The crimson fluid fell to the balcony floor as her hand became intangible...then re-formed...pure and unsullied.

She looked up.  The sky was lighter, and below her the eastern faces of the hills showed the first tinges of dawn-light!  The sounds of Doc's men racing through the castle reached her ears.  There was no time now for their final joining!

She returned to the bed.  Her cool fingers found Doc's forehead.  "Tonight, my love, at sundown...you will come to me in my...Fortress of Solitude!"  She implanted the command in his mind.  He would come!  They would be one...forever!

She became a shadow that fled tomb-ward as the pre-dawn light brightened.

CHAPTER 18: The Death of a Legend

Monk was just regaining consciousness at the top of the stairs when Johnny, Renny, Long Tom, Ham and half a dozen servants arrived.  The servants eyed the body of Svorza with fear as Johnny helped Monk to his feet.

"You O.K., Monk?" he queried.

"Yeah...but what about Doc?"  Monk's eyes were haunted.

Without a backward glance at the body of Monk's assailant, the five friends raced for the bedroom where their bronze leader lay.  Johnny ran to the bed and examined the sleeping man therein.  He scratched his head.

"Well, I'll be superamalgamated!  If I was Doc...I'd TRILL!" he said.  "This is a propitious eventuality indicating...dammit...I don't know what it indicates!"

"What's up, Johnny?"  The others gathered round.

"There's no new wounds!"  Johnny declared.  "I don't understand it!  I'm immeasurably glad...but I don't understand it!  The bandage and cross have been removed but he hasn't been attacked...that I can see!"

"Where's Tepesh?" Monk asked.  "He was sneaking towards the door when I was jumped and knocked out."

"Tepesh?!  The vampire?"  Renny exploded.  "He was in here?"

"Where's the Countess?  He's got the Countess!" babbled Ham!

Bedlam reigned for the few moments that it took Johnny to collect his thoughts.

"Hold it!" Johnny finally yelled.  "First, let's get rid of the servants so we can talk this out."  He left the room for a few minutes.  When he returned, he shut the door and bolted it.

"They're taking care of that body out there," he said.  "Now...down to brass tacks!  The vampire is not Tepesh...it's the Countess!"

"I don't believe it!" Renny and Ham snapped...almost in unison.

"He's right...it's not Tepesh," said Long Tom.  He was standing at the open window.  "Tepesh is down there!"  He pointed to the rocks below the castle.  They all looked. T hey could see the strangely mutilated body and recognize, even at this distance, the face of the former general.  The great gouts of blood that were congealing on the balcony floor were obviously his.

"Holy cow!" breathed Renny.  "The only other person up here was...the Countess!  An' she's missing!"

"Of course," grimaced Johnny.  "It's dawn!"

The full impact of what he was saying sank in.  The creature who was killing Doc was the one person none of them would have suspected...or would have wanted to harm!

Johnny pondered for several minutes.  "As I see it now," he finally said, "Doc was doomed to fall into this trap from the very beginning!  It combines the two things in the whole world he's never understood; women and...magic!  He could withstand a normal, every-day woman.  He could reason out or work around the occult.  But put them together in the form of a beautiful piece of femininity like that, and have that irresistible piece of deadly femininity fall in love with him, too -- and he didn't stand a chance!  No one would have stood a chance!"

"You sure she loves him?" queried Long Tom.

"Indubitably!  She let me have a glimpse into her -- soul -- I guess.  Make no mistake about it...she loves him!  She'll never let him go!  The blood on his lips makes sense now, too."

"How's that?" asked Ham.

"Well, I had read about it before...and it didn't fit the facts if we assumed Tepesh was the vampire!  You see, there's a ritual that a 'lord' vampire will perform with the one he or she has selected to be its eternal...mate.  It's always a male-female relationship..."

"Sort of a vampire love-story, you mean," mumbled Monk.

"Something like that," agreed Johnny.  "It's a joining -- since each drinks the other's...blood.  It is theorized that this is some kind of a soul-tie so that even if one is destroyed, its spirit will wait for the other one until they are re-united again."

"And she made Doc drink her blood -- to bind him to her for all time!"  Renny let out a long, low whistle.

"Um...she was probably going to complete the ritual by finishing him off this evening, so that in three days he would return to her as her vampire-lover.  Apparently Tepesh busted in...for whatever reason...and delayed her enough so that dawn overtook her.  He paid the price for his meddling, however!"

"You mean...she's going to be back tonight for Doc?" asked Long Tom.

"It would probably be too dangerous for her -- and she knows it!  The cross I hid in the bandage will tell her we've figured out what's going on...and that we'll be ready for her!"  Johnny considered for a moment.  "No...she'll probably rely on Doc's prowess and ability to slip away to a pre-arranged meeting-place.  If she planted a command in his mind, he'll have to go -- when the time comes!"

"What'll we do?  We can't let her have him!  She'll kill him!" despaired Renny.

"We'll have to find her -- this morning -- and...destroy her!"  Johnny was subdued.  The only course open to them was so painful.  They had all grown to love the quiet, gentle, regal woman that had brought such joy to Doc.

"Why this morning, Johnny?  I thought vampires could only come out after dark!"  Monk shivered.

"Remember, we've seen her about the castle in the afternoon," offered the gaunt geologist.  "Very old vampires can move about in subdued lighting in the afternoon.  They just can't change shape until sundown."

"C-C-Change shape...?"  Monk gulped.

"Yes...you know, bats, wolves; a vampire can theoretically transmute its physical make-up to other forms.  The saving grace is that they must be in their coffins during the rising hours of the sun...that's between dawn and noon!  We've got to get going if we're going to find her in time!"

Bone-weary though they were, they started at the top of the castle and worked down.  They tapped walls for hidden passageways.  They explored any nook large enough to hold a human body -- and some that weren't!  A small amount of time was lost extracting Monk from a corner he'd crawled into and gotten stuck in.

It was nearly noon when they had all reached the final level of the tombs.  They had found nothing and were tired. They had unobtrusively picked up some pointed stakes in the stable-yard, and the weight of these had only added to their weariness.

Monk peered into the last casket.  "Ugh...that ain't her!" he sighed as he closed the lid and leaned over the ornate top.  "Dammit, Johnny!  There isn't a single wall, floor or ceiling that we haven't pounded the daylights out of -- and there's no secret hidey-holes anywhere!"

"Secret...secret hidey-holes!  OH!  For the love of mud!  Where's my brain?!"  Ham exploded.

"Now that's what I been askin' YOU for the last umpteen-zillion years!" sneered Monk.

"What do you mean, Ham?"  Johnny had detected a note of sudden hope in Ham's voice.

Ham walked to the southeast wall and searched for a moment.  Suddenly, he pressed what appeared to be solid stone -- and a door swung silently open.

"This is it..." he said quietly, "It's got to be!  I followed Doc down here one day and watched him open this portal.  He didn't go in -- just looked at the door, closed it and turned around and went back upstairs.  I followed him back up and thought no more about it -- until now!"

Johnny peered into the cobweb-shrouded, phosphorus-lit interior.  "Let's go, brothers.  We don't have much time, and Doc's life is riding on this being the place we're after!"

The cavern, with its centuries-old treasure hoard stunned them.

"Millions...no...billions...!" gulped Monk.  "Doc knew about this...an' didn't say a word about it!"

"It was obviously a secret that he felt it imperative to keep," murmured Johnny.  "Perhaps...if we find the Countess here...we should move her out to the tombs and re-seal this place."  There were nods of agreement from the others.

"The path through the dust leads to this wall and disappears."  Renny examined the wall he was facing.

They all searched, poked and prodded the wall -- to no avail.  If there was an opening or a mechanism to open a portal, it eluded them!

* * * * *

She felt their presence.  Her mind-force reached out and saw them as they searched the castle.  Others throughout history had tried just this.  Her hiding place had never been found!

She mentally followed their progress.  The castle was so much a part of her that even in her sleep-time she was aware of all that transpired within its walls.  Her amused approval at the thoroughness of their search turned to alarm only when the found and opened the secret entrance in the tombs.

Her beloved's aides were capable and intelligent men!  It was a measure of the respect they had for him that they -- who were formidable opponents in their own right -- deferred to his knowledge and leadership.  If they had come this far, they would find her -- she was sure!  She directed her mental energies into a tight, powerful beam towards the second floor of the edifice above her.

"Beloved!  Come to me!  Now!  I am in great danger!"

* * * * *

It was Johnny -- whose years of digging up elusive tombs stood him in good stead -- who found the tiny crack of the hidden door, and discovered that a small amount of pressure on its pivotal point would swing the great stone slab open.

The muted light of phosphorous in the hidden room was slightly augmented by two large, flickering candles on either side of the ornate black casket.  They cast a roseate glow on the sleeping woman.  The five men stood transfixed by her dark, voluptuous beauty.

"Johnny...do we have to do this...?" breathed Monk faintly, "She's so beautiful!"

Johnny touched the ebon cloud of hair that framed the ivory pureness of her face.  His eyes blurred and his resolve began to waver as he watched the tiny hypnotic movement of her lips as she breathed...slowly...faintly...

If only she ad not used her succubus-like powers to seduce Doc!  If only she had given him a chance -- a choice!  Perhaps...

A bronze shadow loomed in the doorway, its eyes flashing red-gold fire!

The mindless hell-fire in Doc's eyes snapped Johnny back to reality!  "Grab him!" he yelled!

The four men hurled themselves at Doc, Pinioning his arms.  His massive muscles bunched and rippled and it was all they could do to barely hang on to him.  Had Doc had his full strength, things might have been different -- as it was -- Johnny beat him to the casket.

With one mighty thrust, Johnny sent the stake through the Countess's heart and into the wooden bottom of the coffin.

"Beloved!" was her death-cry as she crumbled to centuries-old dust!

"NOOOOOO!" Doc's scream was a paean of anguish that was tinged with madness!  Doc's one and only nightmare -- that of standing helplessly by while the woman he loved was slain -- had happened!

The incipient insanity in that scream spurred Monk to frenzied activity.  He reached into his pocket and his fingers closed around a small glass capsule.  The tiny tinkle of breaking glass wasn't even heard, so emotionally charged was the atmosphere of the room.  Seconds later, five forms lay on the cold stone floor.

After a minute, Monk released his breath.  He walked softly to Doc, reached down, touched the wetness on the corded bronze cheeks and began to weep softly.

"I'm sorry...Doc...Oh, God!...I'm so sorry..."

His shaking hands reached to an inner pocket in his jacket.  He extracted a compact chemical case that Doc had designed.  Opening it, he selected a color-coded vial of clear fluid, filled a hypodermic syringe with the potent anesthetic, and emptied it into Doc's veins.  Doc would be unconscious until a proper counter-agent was administered.

Monk could have restored his companions to consciousness by administering a stimulant designed to counteract the effects of the gas -- but he chose to let them sleep it off.  He needed time to think!  When they finally revived, he was ready for them.

"Let's go, you guys!  We've got a lot of work to do!"  He explained his idea to them.

"Do you think we can pull that off?" muttered Ham, who made it a policy to disagree with the homely chemist at every opportunity.

"Monk's right, Ham."  Johnny, too, had heard the touch of madness in Doc's scream.  "It's the only thing we can do to help Doc.  Nothing in his crazy up-bringing ever prepared him to cope with something like this!"

"Let me get this straight," muttered Renny.  "When we bring Doc out of it, he's got to think the whole episode is nothing but a dream!?!"

"Yeah..." said Monk, "A big, very bad...dream!"

CHAPTER 19: The Lie

Doc stirred uncomfortably.  He couldn't move his left arm.  "Why?"  His eyes flickered open and scanned his surroundings.

His arm was strapped down to an immobilizing board that was used when a doctor did not want intravenous units disturbed by a patient's unconscious movements.  Doc looked.  Two units -- saline solution and glucose -- dripped their life-sustaining fluids into his body.

From the feel of his muscles, he reasoned he'd been here for at least a week -- possibly more.

His gaze traveled around the room.  The lighting was muted, but bright enough to let him identify his surroundings.  He was in the recovery room attached to his private surgery in his 86th floor offices.

He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate.  Hadn't he been in Castle Aldea?  How long ago?  What had happened?  Blurred memories of his last conscious moments tumbled madly in his mind.  There had been a cave-in...he'd been trapped...almost killed...and Orlonda...Johnny had killed Orlonda!

"NO!"  Doc's eyes flew open as the tortured denial split the silent air.

"Doc?  Doc...you're awake!"  Monk's disheveled visage popped into view from a nearby chair.  He had obviously been dozing while keeping vigil next to his leader.  His eyes were red from lack of sleep and his face was unshaven and haggard.  He leapt for the door.

"Hey, you guys!" he yelled into the outer offices, "Doc's awake!"  He turned and raced back to the bed.

Monk was joined by four other bleary-eyed and disheveled figures.  All looked like they had spent the last week or two sleeping in their clothes.  Even Ham was not his usually immaculate self.  They gathered round the bed of their leader -- all looking as happy as if he'd returned from the dead!

"Well," said a warm and familiar voice, "So you've decided to rejoin the land of the living!"

Doc's eyes swung to the door and encountered the fatherly gaze of Dr. 'Bugs' Benton -- his own personal physician.

"You know, young man, you had us all scared stiff!"  The elderly doctor who had been one of Doc's earliest tutors moved to the bed and proceeded to examine him.   "Hmmm -- no untoward effects that I can see..." he muttered after a short time.  "What's the last thing you remember, Clark?"

Doc's head swam.  "The castle...Orlonda..."  He stopped as he saw the look of confusion that suffused the surrounding faces.  "How did I get here?" he murmured.

"Your men called me in about two weeks ago when they came in and found you unconscious in your lab.  You've been in a coma for that long!"  The doctor spoke gently, his keen eyes searching for any sign of agitation or disorientation in his patient.

"Coma...two weeks?...What day is this?"

"It's the twenty-third, Doc," proffered Long Tom.  "Monk and Ham found you on the ninth, when they came up to borrow some equipment."

"Yeah," chimed in Monk.  "We called in Doc Benton, cancelled your appointments and have been telling everyone you're outta town.  We kept you here 'cause we didn't want it leaked out that you were -- well -- we were afraid you were gonna die!"

"These men have virtually lived here the past two weeks," added the elderly physician.  "You couldn't have gotten better round-the-clock care if you'd been in the finest hospital!  They seemed to think it imperative that no one know about your incapacitation -- and, in view of the enemies you've made for yourself in the underworld, I concurred."

"But..." Doc murmured, almost to himself, "Ten days ago we were in Moldania!"

"You kept muttering about Moldania every once in a while when it seemed like you would come out of it -- then you'd slip back into a deeper coma and we'd despair of you ever reviving!" said Renny.  "We checked the newspapers for any news of Moldania -- but the only thing that has happened there recently was that there was a bit of border trouble that had been put down by the local militia.  Ham clipped the articles and they're sitting on your desk."

Doc lay back and closed his eyes.  It hurt to think...almost as if someone had given him medication to keep him from doing just that.  "Countess Aldea and Premier Von Thuroczy...thery were here..."

"Yes," said Ham's voice.  "They were one of the few appointments you'd made that we had to cancel.  We told them you'd been called away on urgent business and that you'd get in touch as soon as you returned.  It seems that they've solved their own problems, though, according to the newspaper clippings I've been collecting."

"We didn't go to Moldania?" Doc queried, his golden eyes sweeping the tired faces of his men.

"Only in your dreams, Doc," whispered Monk.  "...only in your dreams!"

* * * * *

It was midnight.  A fine mist filtered through the deserted lower passages of the ancient castle.  For several hours there had been no sound of human movement in or near the tombs.  The guards who patrolled the castle had all retired to the upper levels for the night.

The southeastern wall of the tomb oozed a silky, pearl-white mist which swirled and took the form of a great, old, white wolf.  The ancient animal lifted its muzzle and sniffed the air.  Satisfied that it would not be disturbed by humans, it once again shifted its shape.  Soon a withered old woman stood in the vault.

The crone shambled to the closed casket of ebony and inlaid ivory, lifted the lid and, with a strength that belied her age, dislodged the wooden stake that pierced the piles of dust covering the floor of the coffin.

As soon as the wooden object had been removed, a wondrous change occurred!  The dust swirled, heaved and became the recumbent form of a beautiful, ebon-haired woman.  She signed and sat up.

"Faithful Simonetta, what would I do without you?" she smiled.

"Did HE do this, Mistress?" the hag hissed.

"No...it was his men...and I cannot condemn them for their actions, for they did what they thought best -- out of love for him!"  She sighed wearily.  "I have lost him for the moment...but once I have reclaimed my estate, I shall seek him out once again."

"Reclaimed your estate, Mistress? But it has been publicized that the Countess Orlonda died or frail health!  How can you reclaim your estate if all the world knows you are dead?"

She chuckled.  Doc's men had somehow managed to enlist the aid of the authorities in covering up the real facts of her 'death'.  "Well," she laughed, "Did the notice of my demise include the information that my will had named my successor?"

"Yes, Mistress, ...a distant cousin named Azuri.  But...you have no cousins -- distant or otherwise!"

The Countess smiled and became somewhat insubstantial.  When she re-formed, she was younger and had red-gold hair.  Only the age-old eyes remained the same.

"I think," she said, as she moved towards the secret tunnel, "That within the next few days the authorities will meet and be convinced of the authenticity of...'Cousin Azuri'."

The crone smiled.  "Yes, Milady!"  All was right once again with her world.  The people would be protected -- as they had been protected throughout the centuries.  Orlonda was but a memory...Azuri was now the reality.  So it had ever been.

Simonetta gathered several handfuls of dust from the undisturbed secret chamber, refilled the coffin and replaced the stake.  No one could have told that it had ever been disturbed.  She closed the casket and followed her mistress into the secret lair, closing the portal behind her.

CHAPTER 20: The Storm

Doc sat in the great leather-covered chair behind his desk.  A week had passed since he's opened his eyes to find himself in his own recovery room.  In that week, he had exercised his muscles back to their former robust state.  At this point, his physical health left little to be desired.  His mental turmoil, however, had grown with each passing hour.

His men had assured him that he had not left the 86th floor in the past two weeks -- that all he remembered of the Moldanian excursion was a dream.

As soon as they had been assured that he was on the mend, they had departed to pick up the strings of their own lives that had been left dangling when he had needed them.

Left alone, at last, Doc had made several hurried phone calls. All of the answers he's received had only confirmed his men's side of the story.

A call to the morgue disclosed that there had been no bodies received from his offices on the day he indicated.

Some of the personnel working at the morgue at the time of the inquiry had been transferred to other areas, but this was departmental policy that helped to reduce corruption.  It would have been almost impossible for the records to have been tampered with -- and they had clearly indicated no bodies consigned from Savage headquarters within the last several weeks.

"Things awful quiet in your area these days, eh, Sir?" the attendant had chuckled.

A call to the Long Island flying field where he had quartered the tri-motored amphibian also surprised him.  He had expected the attendants to say that it had never returned from one of its flights.

Yes, the attendant had said, his tri-motor had been there -- but unfortunately had been destroyed in a hangar fire several days previously.  They had gotten in touch with a Mr. Brooks, who handled all of Doc's legal work, and had been told that Doc was out of town -- but had forwarded the insurance check covering the value of the plane to his office.  New, fire-proof hangars were presently under construction, and the concern hoped to be able to be of service to him once again in the near future.

Doc had replaced the receiver and rummaged through he myriad piles of correspondence and newspaper clipping s on his desk.  Sure enough, there was the check, clipped to a newspaper account of the hangar fire.

The proofs for the reality of his 'dream' had been melting away one after the other!!

He had checked the sides of the window, searching for evidence of the strafing run the war-plan had made that stormy night.  There was nothing.  The glass was unblemished as was the surrounding masonry.  Every evidence pointed to his 'dream' as only that -- a dream!

He rose and walked to the window.  The setting sun sprayed golden radiance across the western face of the edifice.  To the east, clouds heralded an approaching storm.

A torrid flush suffused his features and for a moment he felt a great, consuming thirst.  It was a reaction that he'd had ever since he'd awakened from the two-week coma.  It happened every evening...just at sundown, and had been gradually disappearing over the course of the week.

He rested his head for a moment on the cool windowpane.  A sparkle of reflected light caught his eye.

He opened the window and leaned far out.  Balancing precariously on the window ledge 86 floors above the ground, Doc could see the whole side of the building.  For several feet on either side of the window, the masonry was smooth and unblemished, but beyond that, where he ordinarily would not have looked -- had it not been for the dying sun's disclosure -- was a parade of evenly-spaced pock marks.  THE STRAFING RUN!!

Doc returned to his office, self-doubts beginning to dissolve.  He gathered up all of the issues of the Balkan newspapers for the past two weeks and quickly scanned them for clues to the Moldanian border crisis.  It was a few moments before he realized that there was one paper missing.  This was not especially unusual, since delivery of the Balkan papers was sporadic at times.

On a hunch, he crossed tot he pneumatic tube that delivered the papers from a newsstand in the lobby.  There was a catch-all corner that occasionally gobbled up a newspaper in the receiving bin.

A short examination brought to light the very paper he was missing.  It had obviously gotten pushed into the nook and been overlooked when his men removed the accumulating papers.

He read in the waning light of the sun...not bothering to snap on the electric lights that would illuminate the office.  The third page of the paper held the abbreviated obituary notice and small photograph.  The black eyes of the Reubens portrait stared out at him.  "Death of beloved Countess...due to frail and failing health...fiefdom according to will passes to distant cousin..."

Doc's hands shook in the glowing gloom.  It could still be coincidence.  This death was very possibly a normal occurrence.  His office had been attacked often enough to explain the pock-marks on the exterior...

A wave of cold certainty washed over him.  There was one proof that would tell him for good and all if he had been dreaming -- or if his men had, for whatever reason, lied to him!

He strode to his personal quarters and returned to the office bearing his suitcase.  He opened it.  All seemed in perfect order...clothes and personal effects ready for a split-second departure.  He removed the clothing. In the bottom of the suitcase was a cleverly concealed secret compartment.  His aides did not know of this compartment, for he had never told them of it.  It would contain the final proof!

Doc sat back in the darkness and stared at the case.  Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed as the storm moved across the city from the east.

"Do I really want to know?" Doc thought.  "Wouldn't it just be easier to believe Monk and Ham and the others?  Wouldn't it be simpler to destroy the case -- and never know if the 'dream' was more than just a dream?"

The flashing lightning of the growing storm illuminated the office.  The open suitcase lay on his desk...beckoning...offering sanity...offering madness!

"No..." he thought, "If I start turning away from reality -- no matter how painful -- now, I'll be running for the rest of my life!"  He reached for the secret compartment.

It yielded a padded case.  Within that case were airtight vials.  If his men were telling the truth, they should all be empty -- if not...

He opened the case.  Three of the vials were empty.  The fourth contained a rose -- its topmost thorn still stained with his own blood!

Hot tears stung his eyes.  Doc let them roll unhindered down his bronze cheeks.  His shoulders shook with silent weeping as he let the grief wash through him, exorcising itself.  He knew she would always be there, waiting on the other side of death...waiting for him.  That part of his soul that she had taken -- in exchange for her that he carried within himself -- bound them together.  Someday, he knew, they would be one...once more.  That knowledge, however, did not help to ease the loss he felt now.  The night passed endlessly as he relived the joy, the love, the knowledge, the pain...

The pain...his men had sought to spare him this!  That was why they had -- oh, so cleverly -- done what they had done!  And they had done it all...from bribing officials and falsifying records to buying planes and destroying hangars to subverting his own doctor!  It had all been done with one thought in mind...to spare him this soul-searing pain!  Knowledge of their unselfish love for him mellowed the pain, eased the grief, made it easier to bear.

The storm which had lashed the night air with its fury had mirrored the storm within him.  Nature's fury had abated in one night -- his own could not -- he knew this.  It would take weeks -- perhaps months to reconcile what had been -- what was -- and what must be!  He needed time to come to come to terms with what had happened to him.  Dawn light was beginning to cast its grayish pallor over the buildings below him.

"I know what you have done, brothers, but you will never know that I know!" he murmured as he wrote a single word on the window glass with the invisible chalk he always used to leave messages for his men.

He crossed to the desk and repacked the suitcase...including the newspaper and the vial that contained the rose.  He carried it to the pneumatic tube that connected his 86th floor offices with the Hidalgo Trading Company waterfront warehouse.  Wetness still glistened on his cheeks as the quitted the office.

The ultra-violet light his men would scan the glass with when the returned to find him gone would reveal only one word -- yet that word would satisfy them and quiet any fears they might have that their hoax had been discovered.  It would simply indicate that Doc was back to normal.

The word was...'Fortress'.

EPILOGUE

"Well, Ape," drawled a silky voice, "It's been three months since Doc left for the Fortress.  Do you really think we managed to pull it off?"

The gorilloid specimen beside him smirked.  "The last trace of that strafing run was resurfaced today!  Even if he's still got doubts when he gets back, there's no proof that what we said wasn't 'Gospel'!  I'll give you odds that he's trying to dope out a reason for his 'coma'...which, of course, he'll never fine!"

"Well...I just hope this sort of thing never happens again!  I don't think I could take it!"

"I know what you mean...Listen, let's make a deal!"  The homely chemist's brow wrinkled in thought.  "Every time we see any female falling for Doc -- or Doc getting soft-eyed over any 'skirt' -- what say we step in and bust it up!  It don't matter to me who gets her...just so she don't get her hooks into Doc!  We've seen what can go wrong if THAT happens!"

Ham considered a moment.  "Deal!" he said, as he shook hands with Monk.  It was probably the last thing they would ever agree on!

Monk turned to the console on Doc's desk, punched several buttons and smiled.  "O.K., that resets the phone-answering gizmo.  Howsabout we get some chow?"

"I suppose the office can take care of itself for a while."  Ham scowled.  "Are you sure you set that thing right?"

"I know how to push buttons!" muttered Monk as he moved to the door.

"Matter of opinion..."

The door closed on the burgeoning argument.

An ebon mist that had mingled with the shadows of the darkening room swirled and coalesced.  Soon, a raven-clad woman with flaming hair stood in the office.  No alarms registered her presence.  The camera which kept ever-watchful surveillance on the office did not record her image.

She moved gracefully to the padded chair behind the great desk.  She softly stroked it, tasting the nuances of the leather with her fingertips.

"You are far away, my beloved," she murmured.  "I shall come again at another time...for we are not finished -- you and I."

Her eyes grew darker and starry and she smiled as her human form faded once again into ebon mist that seeped quickly away through a crack in the doorframe.

The room was once again deserted...but somehow colder than it had ever been before.

-THE END -

Alternate covers by Paty Cockrum: