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11 - The God's of Mars - Edgar Rice Burroughs · Daily Sci-Fi Books

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Chapter eleven. When hell broke loose. Early the next morning, Exodar and
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I commenced work upon our plans for escape. First, I had him sketch
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upon the stone floor of our cell as accurate a map of the south polar
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regions as was possible with the crude instruments at our disposal, a buckle from
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my harness, and the sharp edge of the wondrous chem I had taken from
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sator Throg. From this I computed the general direction of Helium and the distance
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at which it lie from the opening which led to Omin. Then I had
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him draw a map of Omean, indicating plainly the position of Shador and of
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the opening in the dome which led to the outer world. These I studied
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until they were indeligibly imprinted in my memory. From Exodar I learned the duties
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and customs of the guards who patrolled Shador. It seemed that during the hour
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set aside for sleep, only one man was on duty at a time.
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He paced a beat that passed around the prison at a distance of about a
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hundred feet from the building. The pace of the sentries, Exodar said,
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was very slow, requiring nearly ten minutes to make a single round. This
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meant that for practically five minutes at a time, each side of the prison
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was unguarded as the sentry pursued his snail like pace upon the opposite side.
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This information, you asked, said Exodar, will be all very valuable after
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we get out. But nothing that you have asked has any bearing on the
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first and most important consideration. We will get out, all right, I
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replied, laughing, Leave that to me. When shall we make the attempt?
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He asked the first night, that finds a small craft moored near the
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shore of Shador, I replied, but how will you know that any craft
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is moored near Shador? The windows are far beyond our reach. Not so,
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friend, Exodar look with a bound. I sprang to the bars of
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the window opposite us, and took a quick survey of the scene without Several
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small craft and two large battleships lay within a hundred yards of Shador to night,
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I thought, and was just about to voice my decision to Exodar,
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when without warning, the door of our prison opened and a guard stepped in.
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If the fellow saw me there, our chances of escape might quickly go
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glimmering. For I knew that they would put me in irons if they had
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the slightest conception of the wonderful agility which my earthly muscles gave me. Upon
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Mars, the man had entered and was standing facing the center of the room,
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so that his back was toward me. Five feet above me was the
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top of a partition wall separating our cell from the necks. There was my
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only chance to escape detection. If the fellow turned, I was lost.
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Nor could I have dropped to the floor undetected, since he was so nearly
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below me that I would have struck him had I done so. Where's the
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white man? Cried the Guard of exodar Issus, commands his presence. He
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started to turn to see if I were in another part of the cell.
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I scrambled up the iron grating of the window until I could catch a good
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footing on the sill with one foot. Then I let go my hold and
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sprang for the partition to what was that? I heard the deep voice of
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the black bellow as my metal grated against the stone wall as I slipped over.
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Then I dropped lightly to the floor of the cell beyond. Where is
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the white slave? Again, cried the guard I know, not, replied
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Exodar. He was here even as you entered. I am not his keeper.
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Go find him. The black grumbled something that I could not understand,
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and then I heard him unlocking the door into one of the other cells on
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the further side. Listening intently, I caught the sound as the door closed
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behind him. Then I sprang once more to the top of the partition and
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dropped into my own cell beside the astonished Exodar. Do you see now how
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we will escape? I asked him in a whisper. I see how you
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may, he replied, But I am no wiser than before as to how
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I am to pass these walls. Certain it is that I cannot bounce over
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them as you do. We heard the guard moving about from cell to cell,
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and finally his rounds completed, he had again entered ours. When his
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eyes fell upon me. They fairly bulged from his head by the shell of
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my first ancestor. He roared, where have you been? I have been
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in prison since you put me here yesterday? I answered, I was in
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this room when you entered. You had better look to your eyesight. He
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glared at me in mingled rage and relief. Come he said, Issus commands
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your presence. He conducted me outside the prison, leaving Exoter behind. There
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we found several other guards, and with them the red Martian youth, who
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occupied another cell. Upon Shador, the journey I had taken to the temple
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of Issus on the preceding day was repeated. The guards kept the red boy
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and myself separated, so that we had no opportunity to continue the conversation that
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had been interrupted the previous night. The youth's face had haunted me. Where
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had I seen him before? There was something strangely familiar in every line of
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him, In his carriage, his manner of speaking, his gestures. I
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could have sworn that I knew him, and yet I knew too that I
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had never seen him before. When we reached the gardens of Issus, we
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were led away from the temple instead of toward it. The way wound through
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enchanted parks to a mighty wall that towered a hundred feet in air. Massive
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gates gave egress upon a small plain surrounded by the same gorgeous forest that I
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had seen at the foot of the Golden Cliffs. Crowds of blacks were strolling
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in the same direction that our guards were leading us, and with them mingled
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my old friends, the plant men and great white apes. The brutal beasts
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moved among the crowd as pet dogs might. If they were in the way.
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The blacks pushed them roughly to one side or whacked them with the flat
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of a sword, and the animals slunk away as in great fear. Presently
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we came upon our destination, a great amphitheater situated at the further edge of
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the plain and about a half a mile beyond the garden walls. Through a
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massive arched gateway, the blacks poured in to take their seats, while our
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guards led us to a smaller entrance near one end of the structure. Through
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this we passed into an enclosure beneath the seats, where we found a number
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of other prisoners herded together under guard. Some of them were in irons,
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but for the most part they seemed sufficiently awed by the presence of their guards
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to preclude any possibility of attempt to escape. During the trip from Shador,
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I had had no opportunity to talk with my fellow prisoner, But now that
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we were safely within the barred paddock, our guards abated their watchfulness, with
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the result that I found myself able to approach the red Martian youth for whom
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I had felt such a strange attraction. What is the object of this assembly,
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i asked him. Are we to fight for the edification of the first
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born? Or is it something worse than that? It is a part of
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the monthly rites of Issus, he replied, in which black men washed the
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sins from their souls in the blood of men from the outer world. If
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perchance the black is killed, it is evidence of his disloyalty to Issus,
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the unpardonable. If he lives through the contest, he is held acquitted of
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the charge that forced the sentence of the rights as it is called upon him.
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The forms of combat vary. A number of us may be pitted together
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against the equal number, or twice the number of blacks, or Singly,
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we may be sent forth to face wild beasts or some famous black warrior.
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And if we are victorious, I asked, what then? Freedom? He
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laughed, freedom forsooth? The only freedom for us death. None who enters
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the domains of the first born ever leave. If we prove able fighters,
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we are permitted to fight often. If we are not mighty fighters, he
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shrugged his shoulders. Sooner or later we die in the arena, and you
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have fought often, I asked, very often, he replied. It is
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my only pleasure. Some hundred black devils have I accounted for during my nearly
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a year of the rites of Issus. My mother would be very proud,
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could she only know how well I have maintained the traditions of my fire prowess.
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Your father must have been a mighty warrior, I said, I have
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known most of the warriors of Barsoom in my time. Doubtless I knew him.
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Who was he? My father was? Come Kaelot's cried the rough voice
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of a guard to the slaughter with you, and roughly we were hustled to
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the steep incline that led to the chambers far below, which led us out
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upon the arena. The Amphitheater, like all I had ever seen upon Barsoom,
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was built in a large excavation. Only the highest seats, which formed
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the low walls surrounding the pit, were above the level of the ground.
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The arena itself was far below the surface. Just beneath the lowest tier of
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seats was a series of barred gates on a level with the surface of the
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arena. Into these we were hearded, But unfortunately, my youthful friend was
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not of those who occupied a cage with me. Directly opposite my cage was
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the throne of Issus. Here the horrid creature squatted, surrounded by a hundred
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slave maidens, sparkling in jeweled. Brilliant clothes of many hues and strange patterns
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form the soft cushion covering of the dace upon which they reclined about her.
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On four sides of the throne, and several feet below it stood three solid
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ranks of heavily armed soldiery elbow to elbow. In front of these were the
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high dignitaries of this mock heaven, gleaming blacks, bedecked with precious stones upon
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their foreheads, the insignia of their ranks, set in circles of gold.
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On both sides of the throne, stretched a solid mass of humanity from top
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to bottom of the amphitheater. There were as many women as men, and
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each was clothed in the wondrously wrought harness of his station and his house.
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With each black was from one to three slaves drawn from the domains of the
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thorns and from the outer world. The blacks are all noble. There is
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no peasantry among the first born. Even the lowest soldier is a god and
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has his slaves to wait upon him. The first born do not work.
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The men fight, that is a sack, sacred privilege and duty to fight
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and die for Issus. The women do nothing, absolutely nothing. Slaves wash
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them, slaves dress them, slaves feed them. There are some even who
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have slaves that talk for them. And I saw one who sat during the
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rites with closed eyes, while a slave narrated to her the events that were
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transpiring within the arena. The first event of the day was the tribute to
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Issus. It marked the end of those poor unfortunates who had looked upon the
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divine glory of the goddess a full year before. There were ten of them,
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splendid beauties from the proud courts of mighty Jeddaks and from the temples of
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the holy theurns. For a year they had served in the retinue of Issus.
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To day they were to pay the price of this divine preferment with their
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lives. Tomorrow they would graze the tables of the court functionaries. A huge
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black entered the arena with the young women. Carefully, he inspected them,
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felt of their limbs, and poked them in the ribs. Presently, he
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select one of their number, whom he led before the throne of Issius.
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He addressed some words to the goddess which I could not hear. Issius nodded
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her head. The black raised his hands above his head in token of salute,
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grasped the girl by the wrist, and dragged her from the arena through
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a small doorway below the throne. Issius will dine well to night, said
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a prisoner beside me. What do you mean, I asked, that was
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her dinner? That old Thabis is taking to the kitchens? Did his not
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note how carefully he selected the plumpest and tenderest of the lot. I growled
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out, my curses on the monster sitting opposite us on the gorgeous throne.
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Fume not admonished, my companion. You will see far worse than that if
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you live even a month among the first born. I turned again, in
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time to see the gate of a nearby cage thrown open, and three monstrous
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white apes spring into the arena. The girl shrank in a frightened group in
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the center of the enclosure. One was on her knees with imploring hands outstretched
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toward Issus, but the hideous deity only leaned further forward, in keener anticipation
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of the entertainment to come. At length, the apes spied the huddled knot
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of terror stricken maidens, and with demonocal shrieks of bestial frenzy, charged upon
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them. A wave of mad fury surged over me. The cruel cowardliness of
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the power drunk creature, whose malignant mind conceived such frightful forms of torture,
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stirred to their uttermost depths my resentment and my manhood. The blood red haze
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that presaged death to my foes swam before my eyes. The guard lolled before
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the unbarred gait of the cage, which confined me. What need of bars
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indeed, to keep those poor victims from rushing into the arena which the edict
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of the gods had appointed as their death place. A single blow sent the
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black unconscious to the ground. Snatching up his long sword, I sprang into
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the arena. The apes were almost upon the maidens, but a couple of
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mighty bounds where all my earthly muscles required to carry me to the center the
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sands strewn floor. For an instant silence reigned in the great amphitheater. Then
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a wild shout arose from the cages of the doomed. My long sword circled,
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whirling through the air, and a great ape sprawled headless at the feet
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of the feigning girls. The other apes turned now upon me, and as
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I stood facing them, a sullen roar from the audience answered the wild cheers
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from the cages. From the tail of my eye, I saw a score
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of guards rushing across the glistening sand toward me. Then a figure broke from
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one of the cages behind them. It was the youth whose personalities so fascinated
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me. He paused a moment before the cages with upraised sword, Come men
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of the outer world, he shouted, let us make our deaths worth while.
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And at the back of this unknown warrior, turn this day's tribute to
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Issus into an orgy of revenge that will echo through the ages and cause black
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skins to blanch at each repetition of the rites of Issus. Come the racks
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without your cages are filled with blades Without waiting to note the outcome of his
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plea, he turned and bounded toward me from every cage that harbored red men.
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A thunderous shout went up in answer to his exhortation. The inner guards
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went down beneath howling mobs, and the cages vomited forth, their inmates,
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hot with the lust to kill. The racks that stood without were stripped of
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the swords with which the prisoners were to have been armed to enter their allotted
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combats, and a swarm of determined warriors sped to our support. The great
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apes, towering in all their fifteen feet of height, had gone down before
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my sword, while the charging guards were still some distance away. Close behind
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them pursued the youth. At my back were the young girls, And as
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it was in their service that I fought, I remained standing there to meet
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my inevitable death, but with the determination to give such an account of myself
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as would long be remembered in the land of the first born. I noted
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the marvelous speed of the young red man as he raced after the guards.
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Never had I seen such speed in any martian. His leaps and bounds were
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little short of those which my earthly muscles had produced to create such awe and
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respect on the part of the green Martians into whose hands I had fallen on
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that long gone day that had seen my first advent upon Mars. The guards
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had not reached me when he fell upon them from the rear, and as
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they turned, thinking from the fierceness of his onslaught that a dozen were attacking
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them. I rushed them from my side. In the rapid fighting that followed,
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I had little chance to note aught else than the movements of my immediate
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adversaries. But now and again I caught a fleeting glimpse of a purring sword
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and a lightly springing figure of sinewy steel that filled my heart with a strange
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yearning and a mighty but unaccountable pride. On the handsome face of the boy,
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a grim smile played, and ever and anon he threw a taunting challenge
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to the foes that faced him. In this and other ways, his manner
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fighting was similar to that which had always marked me on the field of combat.
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Perhaps it was this vague lifness which made me love the boy, while
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the awful havoc that his sword played amongst the blacks filled my soul, with
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a tremendous respect for him. For my part, I was fighting as I
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had fought a thousand times before, now side stepping a wicked thrust, now
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stepping quickly in to let my sword's point drink deep in a foeman's heart,
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before it buried itself in the throat of his companion. We were having a
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merry time of it. We two when a great body of Isshus's own guards
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were ordered into the arena. On they came with fierce cries, while from
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every side the armed prisoners swarmed upon them. For half an hour, it
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was as though all hell had broken loose in the walled confines of the arena.
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We fought in inextricable mass, howling, cursing, blood streaked demons,
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and ever the sword of the young red Man flashed beside me. Slowly and
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by repeated commands, I had succeeded in drawing the prisoners into a rough formation
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about us, so that at last we fought formed into a rude circle,
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in the center of which were the doomed maids. Many had gone down on
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both sides, but by far the greater havoc had been wrought in the ranks
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of the guards of Issus. I could see messengers running swiftly through the audience,
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and as they passed the nobles, they unsheathed their swords and sprang into
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the arena. They were going to annihil at us by force of numbers.
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That was quite evidently their plan. I caught a glimpse of Issus leaning far
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forward upon her throne, her hideous countenance distorted in a horrid grimace of hate
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and rage, in which I thought I could distinguish an expression of fear.
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It was that face that inspired me to the thing that followed. Quickly.
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I ordered fifty of the prisoners to drop back behind us and form a new
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circle about the maidens. Remain and protect them until I return, I commanded.
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Then, turning to those who formed the outer line, I cried,
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down with Issus, follow me to the throne. We will reap vengeance where
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vengeance is deserved. The youth at my side was the first to take up
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the cry of down with vicious and then at my back, and from all
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sides rose a hoarse shout to the throne. To the throne, as one
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man, we moved an irresistible fighting mass over the bodies of dead and dying
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foes towards the gorgeous throne of the martian deity. Hordes of the daughtiest fighting
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men of Firstborn poured from the audience to check our progress. We mowed them
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down before us, as they had been paper men to the seat. Some
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of you, I cried, as we approached the arena's barrier wall. Ten
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of us can take the throne, For I had seen that Issus's guards had,
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for the most part, entered the fray within the arena. On both
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sides of me. The prisoners broke to the left and right for the seats,
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vaulting the low wall with dripping swords, lusting for the crowded victims who
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awaited them. In another moment, the entire amphitheater was filled with the shrieks
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of the dying and the wounded, mingled with the clash of arms and triumphant
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shouts of the victors. Side by side, the young red Man and I,
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with perhaps a dozen others, fought our way to the foot of the
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throne. The remaining guards, reinforced by the high dignitaries and nobles of the
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first Born, closed in between us and Issus, who sat leaning far forward
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upon her carved Sauropus bench, now screaming high pitched commands to her, following
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now hurling blighting curses upon those who sought to desecrate her godhood. The frightened
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slaves about her trembled in wide eyed expectancy, knowing not whether to pray for
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our victory or our defeat. Several among them proud daughters, no doubt of
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some of the Barsoomium's noblest warriors, snatched swords from the hands of the fallen
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and fell upon the guards of Issus, But they were soon cut down,
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glorious martyrs to a hopeless cause. The men with us fought well, But
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never since Tars Tarkas and I fought out that long hot afternoon shoulders shoulder against
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the hordes of Warhoon in the dead sea bottom before Thark had I seen two
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men fight to such good purpose and with such unconquerable ferocity as the young red
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men and I fought that day before the throne of Issus, Goddess of death
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and of life eternal, man by man. Those who stood between us and
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the carven Sorpus would bench went down before our blades. Others swarmed in to
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fill the breach, but inch by inch, foot by foot, we won
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nearer and nearer to our goal. Presently a cry went up from a section
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of the stands near by, rye slaves, Rise, slaves. It rose
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and fell until it swelled to a mighty volume of sound that swept in great
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billows around the entire amphitheater. For an instant, as though by common assent,
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we ceased our fighting to look for the meaning of this new note,
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Nor did it take but a moment to translate its significance. In all parts
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of the structure, the female slaves were falling upon their masters with whatever weapon
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came first to hand. A dagger snatched from the harness of her mistress was
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waved aloft by some fair slave, its shimmering blade crimson with the life blood
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of its owner. Swords plucked from the bodies of the dead about them,
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heavy ornaments which could be turned into bludgeons. Such were the implements with which
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these fair women reeked the long pent vengeance, which at best could but partially
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recompense them for the unspeakable cruelties and indignities which their black masters had heaped upon
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them. And those who could find no other weapons used their strong fingers and
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their gleaming teeth. It was at once a sight to make one shudder and
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to cheer. But in a brief second we were engaged once more in our
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own battle, with only the unquenchable battle cry of the women to remind us
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that they still fought ries. Slaves rise slaves. Only a single thin rank
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of men now stood between us and issus. Her face was blue with terror.
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Foam flecked her lips. She seemed too paralyzed with fear to move.
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Only the youth and I fought now. The others all had fallen, and
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I was like to have gone down too from a nasty long sword cut,
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had not a hand reached out from behind my adversary and clutched his elbow as
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the blade was falling upon me. The youth sprang to my side and ran
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his sword through the fellow before he could recover to deliver another blow. I
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should have died even then, but for that, as my sword was tight
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wedged in the breastbone of a detour of the first born. As the fellow
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went down, I snatched his sword from him, and over his prostrate body,
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looked into the eyes of the one whose quick hand had saved me from
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the first cut of his sword. It was Fador, daughter of Matai Shang,
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Fly, my prince, She cried, it is useless to fight them
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longer. All within the arena are dead, All who charge the throne are
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dead. But you and this youth, only among the seats are there left
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any of your fighting men, And they and the slave women are fast being
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cut down. Listen, you can scarce hear the battle cry of the women
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now, for nearly all are dead. For each one of you there are
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ten thousand blacks within the domains of the First Born. Break for the open
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and the sea of Chorus. With your mighty sword arm you may yet win.
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To the golden cliffs and the temple gardens of the Holy Thorn. There.
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Tell your story to Matai Shang, my father. He will keep you,
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and together you may find a way to rescue me fly while there is
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yet a bare chance for flight. But that was not my mission, nor
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could I see much to be preferred in the cruel hospitality of the Holy Therns
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to that of the first Born. Down with Issus, I shouted, and
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together the boy and I took up the fight. Once more, two blacks
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went down with our swords and their vitals, and we stood face to face
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with Issus. As my sword went up to end her horrid career, her
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paralysis left her, and with an ear piercing shriek, she turned to flee.
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Directly behind her, a black gulf suddenly yawned in the flooring of the
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dace. She sprang for the opening with the youth, and I close at
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her heels. Her scattered guard rallied at her cry and rushed for us.
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A blow fell upon the head of the youth. He staggered and would have
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fallen, but I caught him in my left arm and turned to face an
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infuriated mob of religious fanatics, crazed by the affront I had put upon their
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goddess, just as Issus disappeared into the black depths beneath me. End of
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Chapter eleven.