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08 - Thuvia, Maid of Mars - Edgar Rice Burroughs · Classic Science Fiction Books

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Chapter eight, The Hall of Doom. As Thuvia of Ptarth saw Carthoris depart
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from the presence of Tario, leaving her alone with the man, a sudden
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qualm of terror seized her. There was an air of mystery pervading the stately
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chamber. Its furnishings and appointments bespoke wealth and culture, and carried the suggestion
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that the room was often the scene of royal functions, which filled it to
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its capacity. And yet nowhere about her, in antechamber or corridor was there
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sign of any other being than herself and the recumbent figure of Tario, the
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Jeddak, who watched her through half closed eyes from the gorgeous trappings of his
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regal couch. For a time after the departure of jab and Carthoris, the
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man eyed her intently. Then he spoke, Come nearer, he said,
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And as she approached, whose creature are you? Who has dared materialize his
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imaginings of a woman? It is contrary to the customs and the royal edicts
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of Lothar. Tell me, woman, from whose brain have you sprung?
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Javes? No, do not deny it. I know that it could be
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no other than that envious realist. He seeks to tempt me. He would
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see me fall beneath the spell of your charms, and then he, your
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master, would direct my destiny and my end. I see it all,
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I see it all. The blood of indignation and anger had been rising to
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Thuvia's face. Her chin was up a haughty curve upon her perfect lips.
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I know not, she cried, of what you are pratting. I am
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Thuvia, princess of Ptarth. I am no man's creature. Never before to
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day did I lay eyes upon him. You call jav Nor, upon your
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ridiculous city, of which even the greatest nations of Barsoom have never dreamed.
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My charms are not for you, nor such as you. They are not
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for sale or barter, even though the price were a real throne. And
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as for using them to win, you are worse than futile power. She
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ended her sentence with a shrug of her shapely shoulders and a little scornful laugh.
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When she had finished, Tario was sitting upon the edge of his couch,
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his feet upon the floor. He was leaning forward, with eyes no
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longer half closed but wide, with a startled expression in them. He did
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not seem to note the majest of her words and manner. There was evidently
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something more startling and compelling about her speech than that. Slowly he came to
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his feet by the fangs of comal. He muttered, but you are a
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real a real woman, no dream, no vain and foolish figment of the
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mind. He took a step toward her with his hands outstretched. Come,
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he whispered, Come woman. For countless ages have I dreamed that some day
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you would come, And now that you are here, I can scarce believe
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the testimony of my eyes. Even now, knowing that you are real,
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I still half dread that you may be a lie. Thuvia shrank back,
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she thought the man mad. Her hand stole to the jeweled hilt of her
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dagger. The man saw the move and stopped. A cunning expression entered his
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eyes. Then they became at once dreamy and penetrating, as they fairly bored
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into the girl's brain. Thuvia suddenly felt a change coming over her. What
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the cause of it she did not guess, But somehow the man before her
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began to assume a new relationship within her heart. No longer was he a
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strange and mysterious enemy, but an old and trusted friend. Her hand slipped
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from the dagger's hilt. Tario came closer. He spoke gentle, friendly words,
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and she answered him in a voice that seemed hers and yet another's.
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He was beside her now, his hand was up her shoulder, His eyes
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were down bent towards hers. She looked up into his face. His gaze
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seemed to bore straight through her, to some hidden spring of sentiment within her.
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Her lips started in sudden awe and wonder at the strange revealment of her
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inner self that was being laid bare before her consciousness. She had known Tario
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forever. He was more than friend to her. She moved a little closer
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to him. In one swift flood of light, she knew the truth.
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She loved Tario Jeddak of Lothar. She had always loved him. The man,
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seeing the success of his strategy, could not restrain a faint smile of
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satisfaction, whether there was something in the expression of his face, or whether
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from Carthoris of Helium and a far chamber of the palace came a more powerful
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suggestion. Who may say, but something there was that dispelled the strange hypnotic
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in fluence of the man, as though a mask had been torn from her
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eyes. Thuvia suddenly saw Tario as she had formerly seen him, and,
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accustomed as she was to the strange manifestations of highly developed mentality which are common
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upon Barsoom, she quickly guessed enough of the truth to know that she was
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in grave danger. Quickly she took a step back, tearing herself from his
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grasp, But the momentary contact had aroused within Tario all the long buried passions
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of his loveless existence. With a muffled cry, he sprang upon her,
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throwing his arms about her and attempting to drag her lips to his woman.
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He cried, lovely woman, Tario would make you, Queen of Lothar.
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Listen to me, Listen to the love of the last Jeddak of Barsoom.
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Thuvia struggled to free herself from his embrace. Stop creature, she cried,
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Stop, I do not love you. Stop or I shall scream for help.
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Tario laughed in her face. Scream for help he mimicked. And who
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within the walls of Lothar is there who might come in answer to your call?
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Who would dare enter the presence of Tario unsummoned. There is one she
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replied, who would come, and coming dare to cut you down upon your
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own throne if he thought that you had offered a front to Thuvia of Ptarth,
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who jav asked Tario. Not Jav nor any other soft skinned Lotharian,
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she replied, But a real man, a real warrior, Carthoris of Helium.
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Again, the man laughed at her. You forget the bowmen, he
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reminded her, what could your red warrior a comp against my fearless legions.
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Again he caught her roughly to him, dragging her toward his couch. If
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you will not be my queen, he said, you shall be my slave.
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Neither cried the girl. As she spoke the single word, there was
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a quick movement of her right hand, Tario, releasing her, staggered back,
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both hands pressed to his side. At the same instant, the room
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was filled with bowmen, and then the Jeddak of Lothar sank senseless to the
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marble floor. At the instant that he lost consciousness, the bowmen were about
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to release their arrows into Thuvia's heart. Involuntarily, she gave a single cry
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for help, though she knew that not even Carthoris of Helium could save her.
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Now, then she closed her eyes and waited for the end. No
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slender shafts pierced her tender sigh. She raised her lids to see what stayed
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the hands of her executioners. The room was empty save for herself and the
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still form of the Jeddak of Lothar lying at her feet, a little pool
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of crimson staining the white marble of the floor. Beside him, Tario was
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unconscious. Thuvia was amazed. Where were the bowmen? Why had they not
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loosed their shafts? What could it all mean? An instant before, the
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room had been mysteriously filled with armed men, evidently called to protect their jeddak.
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Yet now, with the evidence of her deed playing before them, they
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had vanished as mysteriously as they had come, leaving her alone with the body
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of their ruler, into whose sides she had slipped her long keen blade.
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The girl glanced apprehensively about, first for signs of the return of the bowmen,
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and then for some means of escape. The wall behind the dais was
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pierced by two small doorways hidden by heavy hangings. Thuvia was quickly running toward
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one of these when she heard the clank of a warrior's medal at the end
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of the apartment behind her. Ah. If she had but an instant more
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of time, she could have reached that screening arrass and perchance have found some
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avenue of escape behind it. But now it was too late. She had
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been discovered. With a feeling that was akin to apathy, she turned to
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meet her fate, and there before her, running swiftly across the broad chamber
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to her side, was Carthoris, his naked long sword gleaming in his hand.
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For days she had doubted the intentions of the Heliumite. She had thought
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him a party to her abduction. Since fate had thrown them together. She
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had scarce favored him with more than the most perfunctory replies to him remarks unless
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at such times as the weird and uncanny happenings at Lothar had surprised her out
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of her reserve. She knew that Carthoris of Helium would fight for her,
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but whether to save her for himself or another, she was in doubt.
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He knew that she was promised to Coulan Tith Jeddak of Cowl. But if
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he had been instrumental in her abduction, his motives could not be prompted by
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loyalty to his friend or regard for her honor. And yet as she saw
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him coming across the marble floor of the audience chamber of Tario of Lothar,
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his fine eyes filled with apprehension for her safety, his splendid figure personifying all
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that is finest in the fighting men of marshal Mars, she could not believe
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that any faint trace of perfidy lurked beneath so glorious an exterior. Never,
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she thought, in all her life, had the sight of any man been
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so welcome to her. It was with difficulty that she refrained from rushing forward
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to meet him. She knew that he loved her, but in time she
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recalled that she was promised to cool on tith. Not even might she trust
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herself to show too great gratitude to the Heliumite, lest he misunderstand. Carthoris
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was by her side now, his quick glance had taken in the scene within
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the room, the still figure of the Jeddak sprawled upon the floor, the
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girl hastening toward a shrouded exit. Did he harm Ethuvia, he asked.
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She held up her crimsoned blade that he might see it. No, she
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said, he did not harm me. A grim smile lighted Carthoris's face.
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Praise be our first ancestor, he murmured. And now let us see if
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we may not make good our escape from this cursed city before the Lotharians discover
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that their Jeddak is no more with the firm authority that sat so well upon
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him, in whose veins flowed the blood of John Carter of Virginia and dejah
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Thoris of Helium. He grasped her hand, and, turning back across the
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hall, strode toward the great doorway through which Jab had brought them into the
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presence of the Jeddak earlier in the day. They had almost reached the threshold
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when a figure sprang into the apartment through another entrance. It was Jab,
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He too, took in the scene. Within a glance. Carthoris turned to
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face him, his sword ready in his hand and his great body shielding the
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slender figure of the girl. Come Jab of Lothar, He cried, Let
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us face the issue at once, for only one of us may leave this
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chamber alive with Thuvia of Ptarth. Then, seeing that the man wore no
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sword, he claimed, bring on your bowman, then, or come with
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us as my prisoner until we have safely passed the outer portals of thy ghostly
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city. You have killed Tario, exclaimed the Jav, ignoring the other's challenge.
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You have killed Tario. I see his blood upon the floor, real
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blood, real death. Tario was, after all as real as I.
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Yet he was an etherealist. He would not materialize his sustenance. Can it
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be that they are right? Well, we too are right? And all
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these ages we have been quarreling, each saying that the other was wrong.
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However he is dead. Now of that I am glad. Now shall jeb
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come into his own Now? Shall Jav be Jeddak of Lothar. As he
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finished, Tario opened his eyes and then quickly sat up. Traitor, assassin.
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He screamed, and then kudar kudar, which is the Barsoomian for guard.
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Jav went sickly white. He fell upon his belly, wriggling toward Tario.
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Oh my Jeddak, my Jeddak, he whimpered. Jeev had no hand
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in this, Jev, your faithful Jav. But just this instant entered the
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apartment to find you lying prone upon the floor, and these two strangers about
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to leave. How it happened, I know not believe me, Most glorious
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Jeddak cea s nave, cried Tarrio, I heard your words. However he
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is dead. Now of that I am glad. Now shall Jav come into
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his own Now? Shall Jav be Jeddak of Lothar at last? Traitor?
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I have found you out. Your own words have condemned you as surely as
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the acts of these red creatures have sealed their fates. Unless he paused,
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unless the woman, but he got no further Carthoris guessed what he would have
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said, and before the words could be uttered, he had sprung forward and
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struck the man across the mouth with his open palm. Tario frothed in rage
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and mortification. And should you again affront the Princess of Ptarth, warned the
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Heliumite, I shall forget that you wear no sword, not forever may I
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control my itching sword hand. Tario shrank back toward the little doorways behind the
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dais. He was trying to speak, but so hideously were the muscles of
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his face, working that he could utter no word for several minutes. At
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last he managed to art intelligibly. Die. He shrieked, die, and
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then he turned toward the exit. At his back. Jav leaped forward,
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screaming in terror. Have pity, Tario, have pity. Remember the long
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ages that I have served you faithfully, Remember all that I have done for
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Lothar. Do not condemn me now to the death, hideous, save me,
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Save me. But Tario only laughed a mocking laugh and continued to back
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toward the hangings that hid the little doorway. Jav turned toward Carthoris. Stop
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him, he screamed, stop him. If you love life, let him
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not leave this room, And as he spoke, he leaped in pursuit of
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his Jeddak. Carthoris followed Jav's example, but the last of the Jeddaks of
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Barsoom was too quick for them. By the time they reached the arras behind
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which he had disappeared, they found a heavy stone door blocking their further progress.
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Jav sank to the floor in a spasm of terror. Come man,
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cried Carthoris. We are not dead yet. Let us hasten to the avenues
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and make an attempt to leave the city. We are still alive, and
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while we live, we may yet endeavor to direct our own destinies of what
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avail to sink spineless to the floor. Come be a man, Jav but
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shook his head. Did you not hear him call the guards? He moaned.
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Oh, if we could have but intercepted him, then there might have
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been hope. But alas he was too quick for us. Well, well,
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exclaimed Carthoris impatiently. What if he did call the guards, There will
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be time enough to worry about that after they come. At present, I
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see no indication that they have any idea of over exerting themselves to obey their
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Jeddak's summons. Jav shook his head mournfully. You do not understand, he
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said. The guards have already come and gone. They have done their work,
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and we are lost. Look to the various exits. Carthoris and Theuvia
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turned their eyes in the direction of the several doorways which pierced the walls of
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the great chamber. Each was tightly closed by huge stone doors. Well,
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asked Carthoris, we are to die the death, whispered Jav faintly. Further
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than that, he would not say, He just sat upon the edge of
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the Jeddak's couch and waited. Carthoris moved to Thuvia's side, and, standing
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there with naked sword, he let his brave eyes roam ceaselessly about the great
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chamber, that no foe might spring upon them unseen. For what seemed hours,
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no sound broke the silence of their living tomb. No sign gave their
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executioners of the time or manner of their death. The suspense was terrible.
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Even Carthoris of Helium began to feel the terrible strain upon his nerves. If
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he could but know how and whence the hand of death was to strike,
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he could meet it unafraid. But to suffer longer the hideous tension of this
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blighting ignorance of the plans of their assassins was telling upon him grievously. Thuvia
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of Ptarth drew quite close to him. She felt safer with the feel of
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his arm against hers, and with the contact of her The man took a
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new grip upon himself. With his old time smile, he turned toward her.
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It would seem that they are trying to frighten us to death, he
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said, laughing, and shame be upon me that I should confess it.
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I think they were close to accomplishing their designs upon me. She was about
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to make some reply when a fearful shriek broke from the lips of the Lotharian.
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The end is coming, he cried, The end is coming. The
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floor, the floor, Oh Komal be merciful. Thuvia and Carthoris did not
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need to look at the floor to be aware of the strange movement that was
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taking place. Slowly, the marble flagging was sinking in all directions toward the
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center. At first, the movement, being gradual, was scarce noticeable,
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but presently the angle of the floor became such that one might stand easily only
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by bending one knee considerably. Jav was shrieking still and clawing at the royal
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couch that had already commenced to slide toward the center of the room, where
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both Thuvia and Carthoris suddenly noted a small orifice which grew in diameter as the
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floor assumed more closely a funnel like contour. Now it became more and more
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difficult to cling to the dizzy inclination of the smooth and polished marble Carthoris tried
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to support Thuvia, but himself commenced to slide and slip toward the ever enlarging
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aperture. Better to cling to the smooth stone, he kicked off his sandals
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of zitidar hide and with his bare feet braced himself against the sickening tilt,
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at the same time throwing his arms supportingly around the girl in her terror,
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her own hands clasped about the man's neck, her cheek was close to his
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death. Unseen and of unknown form settled close upon them. And because unseen
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and unknowable, infinitely more terrifying. Courage, my princess, he whispered.
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She looked up into his face to see smiling lips above hers, and brave
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eyes untouched by terror, drinking deeply of her own. Then the floor sagged
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and tilted more swiftly. There was a sudden slipping rush as they were precipitated
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toward the aperture. Jav's screams rose weird and horrible in their ears, and
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then the three found themselves piled upon the royal couch of Tario, which had
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stuck within the aperture at the base of the marble funnel. For a moment
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they breathed more freely, but presently they discovered that the aperture was continuing to
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enlarge. The couch slipped downward. Jav shrieked again. There was a sickening
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sensation as they felt all let go beneath them as they fell through darkness to
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an unknown death. End of chapter eight.