The Gods Of Mars (26 page)

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Authors: Edgar Rice Burroughs

Tags: #Classic, #Science Fiction, #Fantasy, #Adventure

BOOK: The Gods Of Mars
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The Jed of Zodangan Helium raised his voice to the angry sea beneath us.

“Stay your hands, men of Helium,” he shouted, his voice trembling with
rage. “The sentence of the court is passed, but the day of retribution
has not been set. I, Zat Arras, Jed of Zodanga, appreciating the royal
connections of the prisoner and his past services to Helium and
Barsoom, grant a respite of one year, or until the return of Mors
Kajak, or Tardos Mors to Helium. Disperse quietly to your houses. Go.”

No one moved. Instead, they stood in tense silence with their eyes
fastened upon me, as though waiting for a signal to attack.

“Clear the temple,” commanded Zat Arras, in a low tone to one of his
officers.

Fearing the result of an attempt to carry out this order by force, I
stepped to the edge of the platform and, pointing toward the main
entrance, bid them pass out. As one man they turned at my request and
filed, silent and threatening, past the soldiers of Zat Arras, Jed of
Zodanga, who stood scowling in impotent rage.

Kantos Kan with the others who had sworn allegiance to me still stood
upon the Throne of Righteousness with me.

“Come,” said Kantos Kan to me, “we will escort you to your palace, my
Prince. Come, Carthoris and Xodar. Come, Tars Tarkas.” And with a
haughty sneer for Zat Arras upon his handsome lips, he turned and
strode to the throne steps and up the Aisle of Hope. We four and the
hundred loyal ones followed behind him, nor was a hand raised to stay
us, though glowering eyes followed our triumphal march through the
temple.

In the avenues we found a press of people, but they opened a pathway
for us, and many were the swords that were flung at my feet as I passed
through the city of Helium toward my palace upon the outskirts. Here
my old slaves fell upon their knees and kissed my hands as I greeted
them. They cared not where I had been. It was enough that I had
returned to them.

“Ah, master,” cried one, “if our divine Princess were but here this
would be a day indeed.”

Tears came to my eyes, so that I was forced to turn away that I might
hide my emotions. Carthoris wept openly as the slaves pressed about
him with expressions of affection, and words of sorrow for our common
loss. It was now that Tars Tarkas for the first time learned that his
daughter, Sola, had accompanied Dejah Thoris upon the last long
pilgrimage. I had not had the heart to tell him what Kantos Kan had
told me. With the stoicism of the green Martian he showed no sign of
suffering, yet I knew that his grief was as poignant as my own. In
marked contrast to his kind, he had in well-developed form the kindlier
human characteristics of love, friendship, and charity.

It was a sad and sombre party that sat at the feast of welcome in the
great dining hall of the palace of the Prince of Helium that day. We
were over a hundred strong, not counting the members of my little
court, for Dejah Thoris and I had maintained a household consistent
with our royal rank.

The board, according to red Martian custom, was triangular, for there
were three in our family. Carthoris and I presided in the centre of
our sides of the table—midway of the third side Dejah Thoris’
high-backed, carven chair stood vacant except for her gorgeous wedding
trappings and jewels which were draped upon it. Behind stood a slave
as in the days when his mistress had occupied her place at the board,
ready to do her bidding. It was the way upon Barsoom, so I endured the
anguish of it, though it wrung my heart to see that silent chair where
should have been my laughing and vivacious Princess keeping the great
hall ringing with her merry gaiety.

At my right sat Kantos Kan, while to the right of Dejah Thoris’ empty
place Tars Tarkas sat in a huge chair before a raised section of the
board which years ago I had had constructed to meet the requirements of
his mighty bulk. The place of honour at a Martian hoard is always at
the hostess’s right, and this place was ever reserved by Dejah Thoris
for the great Thark upon the occasions that he was in Helium.

Hor Vastus sat in the seat of honour upon Carthoris’ side of the table.
There was little general conversation. It was a quiet and saddened
party. The loss of Dejah Thoris was still fresh in the minds of all,
and to this was added fear for the safety of Tardos Mors and Mors
Kajak, as well as doubt and uncertainty as to the fate of Helium,
should it prove true that she was permanently deprived of her great
Jeddak.

Suddenly our attention was attracted by the sound of distant shouting,
as of many people raising their voices at once, but whether in anger or
rejoicing, we could not tell. Nearer and nearer came the tumult. A
slave rushed into the dining hall to cry that a great concourse of
people was swarming through the palace gates. A second burst upon the
heels of the first alternately laughing and shrieking as a madman.

“Dejah Thoris is found!” he cried. “A messenger from Dejah Thoris!”

I waited to hear no more. The great windows of the dining hall
overlooked the avenue leading to the main gates—they were upon the
opposite side of the hall from me with the table intervening. I did
not waste time in circling the great board—with a single leap I
cleared table and diners and sprang upon the balcony beyond. Thirty
feet below lay the scarlet sward of the lawn and beyond were many
people crowding about a great thoat which bore a rider headed toward
the palace. I vaulted to the ground below and ran swiftly toward the
advancing party.

As I came near to them I saw that the figure on the thoat was Sola.

“Where is the Princess of Helium?” I cried.

The green girl slid from her mighty mount and ran toward me.

“O my Prince! My Prince!” she cried. “She is gone for ever. Even now
she may be a captive upon the lesser moon. The black pirates of
Barsoom have stolen her.”

Chapter XVIII - Sola’s Story
*

Once within the palace, I drew Sola to the dining hall, and, when she
had greeted her father after the formal manner of the green men, she
told the story of the pilgrimage and capture of Dejah Thoris.

“Seven days ago, after her audience with Zat Arras, Dejah Thoris
attempted to slip from the palace in the dead of night. Although I had
not heard the outcome of her interview with Zat Arras I knew that
something had occurred then to cause her the keenest mental agony, and
when I discovered her creeping from the palace I did not need to be
told her destination.

“Hastily arousing a dozen of her most faithful guards, I explained my
fears to them, and as one they enlisted with me to follow our beloved
Princess in her wanderings, even to the Sacred Iss and the Valley Dor.
We came upon her but a short distance from the palace. With her was
faithful Woola the hound, but none other. When we overtook her she
feigned anger, and ordered us back to the palace, but for once we
disobeyed her, and when she found that we would not let her go upon the
last long pilgrimage alone, she wept and embraced us, and together we
went out into the night toward the south.

“The following day we came upon a herd of small thoats, and thereafter
we were mounted and made good time. We travelled very fast and very
far due south until the morning of the fifth day we sighted a great
fleet of battleships sailing north. They saw us before we could seek
shelter, and soon we were surrounded by a horde of black men. The
Princess’s guard fought nobly to the end, but they were soon overcome
and slain. Only Dejah Thoris and I were spared.

“When she realized that she was in the clutches of the black pirates,
she attempted to take her own life, but one of the blacks tore her
dagger from her, and then they bound us both so that we could not use
our hands.

“The fleet continued north after capturing us. There were about twenty
large battleships in all, besides a number of small swift cruisers.
That evening one of the smaller cruisers that had been far in advance
of the fleet returned with a prisoner—a young red woman whom they had
picked up in a range of hills under the very noses, they said, of a
fleet of three red Martian battleships.

“From scraps of conversation which we overheard it was evident that the
black pirates were searching for a party of fugitives that had escaped
them several days prior. That they considered the capture of the young
woman important was evident from the long and earnest interview the
commander of the fleet held with her when she was brought to him.
Later she was bound and placed in the compartment with Dejah Thoris and
myself.

“The new captive was a very beautiful girl. She told Dejah Thoris that
many years ago she had taken the voluntary pilgrimage from the court of
her father, the Jeddak of Ptarth. She was Thuvia, the Princess of
Ptarth. And then she asked Dejah Thoris who she might be, and when she
heard she fell upon her knees and kissed Dejah Thoris’ fettered hands,
and told her that that very morning she had been with John Carter,
Prince of Helium, and Carthoris, her son.

“Dejah Thoris could not believe her at first, but finally when the girl
had narrated all the strange adventures that had befallen her since she
had met John Carter, and told her of the things John Carter, and
Carthoris, and Xodar had narrated of their adventures in the Land of
the First Born, Dejah Thoris knew that it could be none other than the
Prince of Helium; ‘For who,’ she said, ‘upon all Barsoom other than
John Carter could have done the deeds you tell of.’ And when Thuvia
told Dejah Thoris of her love for John Carter, and his loyalty and
devotion to the Princess of his choice, Dejah Thoris broke down and
wept—cursing Zat Arras and the cruel fate that had driven her from
Helium but a few brief days before the return of her beloved lord.

“‘I do not blame you for loving him, Thuvia,’ she said; ‘and that your
affection for him is pure and sincere I can well believe from the
candour of your avowal of it to me.’

“The fleet continued north nearly to Helium, but last night they
evidently realized that John Carter had indeed escaped them and so they
turned toward the south once more. Shortly thereafter a guard entered
our compartment and dragged me to the deck.

“‘There is no place in the Land of the First Born for a green one,’ he
said, and with that he gave me a terrific shove that carried me
toppling from the deck of the battleship. Evidently this seemed to him
the easiest way of ridding the vessel of my presence and killing me at
the same time.

“But a kind fate intervened, and by a miracle I escaped with but slight
bruises. The ship was moving slowly at the time, and as I lunged
overboard into the darkness beneath I shuddered at the awful plunge I
thought awaited me, for all day the fleet had sailed thousands of feet
above the ground; but to my utter surprise I struck upon a soft mass of
vegetation not twenty feet from the deck of the ship. In fact, the
keel of the vessel must have been grazing the surface of the ground at
the time.

“I lay all night where I had fallen and the next morning brought an
explanation of the fortunate coincidence that had saved me from a
terrible death. As the sun rose I saw a vast panorama of sea bottom
and distant hills lying far below me. I was upon the highest peak of a
lofty range. The fleet in the darkness of the preceding night had
barely grazed the crest of the hills, and in the brief span that they
hovered close to the surface the black guard had pitched me, as he
supposed, to my death.

“A few miles west of me was a great waterway. When I reached it I
found to my delight that it belonged to Helium. Here a thoat was
procured for me—the rest you know.”

For many minutes none spoke. Dejah Thoris in the clutches of the First
Born! I shuddered at the thought, but of a sudden the old fire of
unconquerable self-confidence surged through me. I sprang to my feet,
and with back-thrown shoulders and upraised sword took a solemn vow to
reach, rescue, and revenge my Princess.

A hundred swords leaped from a hundred scabbards, and a hundred
fighting-men sprang to the table-top and pledged me their lives and
fortunes to the expedition. Already my plans were formulated. I
thanked each loyal friend, and leaving Carthoris to entertain them,
withdrew to my own audience chamber with Kantos Kan, Tars Tarkas,
Xodar, and Hor Vastus.

Here we discussed the details of our expedition until long after dark.
Xodar was positive that Issus would choose both Dejah Thoris and Thuvia
to serve her for a year.

“For that length of time at least they will be comparatively safe,” he
said, “and we will at least know where to look for them.”

In the matter of equipping a fleet to enter Omean the details were left
to Kantos Kan and Xodar. The former agreed to take such vessels as we
required into dock as rapidly as possible, where Xodar would direct
their equipment with water propellers.

For many years the black had been in charge of the refitting of
captured battleships that they might navigate Omean, and so was
familiar with the construction of the propellers, housings, and the
auxiliary gearing required.

It was estimated that it would require six months to complete our
preparations in view of the fact that the utmost secrecy must be
maintained to keep the project from the ears of Zat Arras. Kantos Kan
was confident now that the man’s ambitions were fully aroused and that
nothing short of the title of Jeddak of Helium would satisfy him.

“I doubt,” he said, “if he would even welcome Dejah Thoris’ return, for
it would mean another nearer the throne than he. With you and
Carthoris out of the way there would be little to prevent him from
assuming the title of Jeddak, and you may rest assured that so long as
he is supreme here there is no safety for either of you.”

“There is a way,” cried Hor Vastus, “to thwart him effectually and for
ever.”

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