EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS
sat upon his shoulder and complained bitterly, for Nkima, as usual, was frightened and cold and hungry.
“Send legionaries to fetch Sublatus and Fastus,” Tarzan directed Praeclarus, “for this business must be attended to quickly, as within the hour I march on Castrum Mare.”
Flushed with excitement, the legionaries that had been sent to fetch Sublatus and Fastus rushed into the throne-room. “Sublatus is dead!” they cried. “Fastus is dead! The barbarians have slain them. The chambers and corridors above are filled with the bodies of senators, nobles, and officers of the legion.”
“Are none left alive?” demanded Praeclarus, paling.
“Yes,” replied one of the legionaries, “there were many barricaded in another apartment who withstood the onslaught of the blacks. We explained to them that they are now safe and they are coming to the throne-room,” and up the aisle marched the remnants of the wedding guests, the sweat and blood upon the men evidencing the dire straits from which they had been delivered, the women still nervous and hysterical. Leading them came Dion Splendidus, and at the sight of him Dilecta gave a cry of relief and pleasure and ran down the steps of the throne and along the aisle to meet him.
Tarzan’s face lighted with relief when he saw the old senator, for his weeks in the home of Festivitas and his long incarceration with Maximus Praeclarus in the dungeons of the Colosseum had familiarized him with the politics of Castra Sanguinarius, and now the presence of Dion Splendidus was all that he needed to complete the plans that the tyranny and cruelty of Sublatus had forced upon him.
He rose from the throne and raised his hand for silence. The hum of voices ceased. “Caesar is dead, but upon someone of you must fall the mantle of Caesar.”
“Long live Tarzan! Long live the new Caesar!” cried one of the gladiators, and instantly every Sanguinarian the room took up the cry.
The ape-man smiled and shook his head. “No,” he said, “not I, but there is one here to whom I offer the imperial
170
