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

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Chapter fourteen. The eyes in the dark, my son, I could not
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believe my ears. Slowly I rose and faced the handsome youth. Now that
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I looked at him closely, I commenced to see why his face and personality
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had attracted me so strongly. There was much of his mother's incomparable beauty in
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his clear cut features, but it was strongly masculine beauty, and his gray
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eyes, in the expression of them, were mine. The boy stood facing
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me, half hope and half uncertainty in his look. Tell me of your
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mother, I said, tell me all you can, of the years that
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I have been robbed by a relentless fate of her dear companionship. With a
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cry of pleasure, he sprang toward me and threw his arms about my neck.
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And for a brief moment, as I held my boy close to me,
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the tears welled to my eyes, and I was like to have choked
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after the manner of some mad'lin fool. But I do not regret it,
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nor am I ashamed. A long life has taught me that a man may
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seem weak where women and children are concerned, and yet be anything but a
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weakling in the sterner avenues of life, your stature, your manner, the
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terrible ferocity of your swordmanship, said the boy, are as my mother has
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described them to me a thousand times. But even with such evidence, I
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could scarce credit the truth of what seems so improbable to me, however much
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I desired it to be true. Do you know what thing it was that
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convinced me more than all the others? What, my boy, I asked
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your first words to me? They were of my mother. None else but
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the man who loved her, as she has told me my father did,
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would have thought first of her for long years. My son, I can
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scarce recall a moment that the radiant vision of your mother's face has not been
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ever before me. Tell me of her. Those who have known her longest
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say that she has not changed, unless it be to grow more beautiful.
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Were that possible? Only when she thinks I am not about to see her,
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her face grows very sad and oh so wistful. She thinks ever of
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you, my father, and all Helium mourns with her and for her.
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Her grandfather's people love her. They loved you also, and fairly worship your
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memory as the savior of Barsoom. Each year that brings its anniversary of the
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day that saw you racing across a near dead world to unlock the secret of
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that awful portal behind which lay the mighty power of life. For countless millions,
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a great festivals held in your honor. But there are tears mingled with
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thanksgiving, tears of real regret that the author of the happiness is not with
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them to share the joy of living. He died to give them upon all
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barsoom. There is no greater name than John Carter. And by what name
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has your mother called you? My boy? I asked the people of Helium,
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asked that I be named with my father's name, But my mother said
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no, that you and she had chosen a name for me together, and
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that your wish must be honored before all others. So the name that she
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called me is the one that you desired, a combination of hers and yours.
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Carthoris Exodar had been at the wheel as I talked with my son,
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and now he called, she is dropping badly by the head, John Carter,
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He said, So long as we were rising at a stiff angle,
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it was not noticeable. But now that I am trying to keep a horizontal
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course, it is different. The wound in her bow has opened one of
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her forward ray tanks. It was true, and after I had examined the
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damage, I found it a much graver matter than I had anticipated. Not
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only was the forced angle at which we were compelled to maintain the bow in
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order to keep a horizontal course greatly impeding our speed, but at the rate
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that we were losing our repulsive rays from the forward tanks, it was but
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a question of an hour or more when we would be floating, stern up
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and helpless. We had slightly reduced our speed with the dawning of a sense
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of security. But now I took the helm once more and pulled the noble
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little engine wide open, so that again we raced north at terrific velocity.
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In the meantime, Cathors and Exodar, with tools in hand, were puttering
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with the great rent in the bow in a hopeless endeavor to stem the tide
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of escaping rays. It was still dark when we passed the northern boundary of
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the ice cap, and the area of clouds below us lay a typical Martian
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landscape, rolling oak her sea, bottom of long dead seas, low surrounding
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hills with here and there, the grim and silent cities of the dead,
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past, great piles of mighty architecture, tenanted only by age old memories of
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a once powerful race, and by the great white apes of Barsoom. It
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was becoming more and more difficult to maintain our little vessel in a horizontal position.
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Lower and lower sagged the bow until it became necessary to stop the engine
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to prevent our flight, terminating in a swift dive to the ground. As
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the sun rose and the light of a new day swept away the darkness of
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night, our craft gave a final spasmodic plunge, turned half upon her side,
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and then, with deck tilting at a sickening angle, swung in a
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slow circle, her bow dropping further below her stern each moment to hand rail
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and stanchion we clung, and finally, as we saw the end approaching,
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snapped the buckles of our harness to the rings at her sides. In another
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moment, the deck reared at an angle of ninety degrees, and we hung
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in our leather with feet dangling a thousand yards above the ground. I was
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swinging quite close to the controlling devices, so I reached out to the lever
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that directed the rays of repulsion. The boat responded to the touch, and
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very gently we began to sink toward the ground. It was fully half an
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hour before we touched. Directly north of us rose a rather lofty range of
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hills, towards which we decided to make our way, since they afforded greater
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opportunity for concealment from the pursuers we were confident might stumble in this direction.
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An hour later found us in the time rounded gullies of the hills, amid
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the beautiful flowering plants that abound in the arid waste places of Barsoom. There
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we found numbers of huge milk giving shrubs, that strange plant which serves in
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great part as food and drink for the wild hordes of green men. It
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was indeed a boon to us, for we all were nearly famished. Beneath
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a cluster of these, which afforded perfect concealment from wandering air scouts. We
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lay down to sleep, for me the first time in many hours. This
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was the beginning of my fifth day upon Barsoom, since I had found myself
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suddenly translated from my cottage on the Hudson to door, the valley beautiful,
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the valley hideous. In all this time I had slept but twice, though
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once the clock round within the storehouse of the Thurns. It was mid afternoon
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when I was awakened by some one seizing my hand and covering it with kisses.
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With a start, I opened my eyes to look into the beautiful face
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of Thuvia, My prince, My prince, she cried, and in ecstasy
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of happiness, tis you whom I had mourned as dead. My ancestors have
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been good to me. I have not lived in vain. The girl's voice
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awoke Exeter on Carthoris. The boy gazed upon the woman in surprise, But
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she did not seem to realize the presence of another than I. She would
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have thrown her arms about my neck and smothered me with caresses, had I
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not gently but firmly disengaged myself. Come, Come, Thuvia, I said,
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soothingly. You are overwrought by the danger and hardships you have passed through.
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You forget yourself, as you forget that I am the husband of the
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Princess of Helium. I forget nothing, my prince, She replied, you
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have spoken no word of love to me, nor do I expect that you
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ever shall. But nothing can prevent me loving you. I would not take
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the place of dejah Thoris. My greatest ambition is to serve you, my
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prince, for ever is your slave. No greater boon could I ask,
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No greater honor could I crave, no greater happiness could I hope? As
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I have before said, I am no lady's man, and I must admit
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that I seldom have felt so uncomfortable and embarrassed as I did that moment.
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While I was quite familiar with the Martian custom, which allows female slaves to
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Martian men, whose high and chivalrous honor is always ample protection for every woman
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in his household, yet I had never myself chosen other than men as my
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body servants. And I ever returned to Helium Thuvia, I said, you
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shall go with me, but as an honored equal, and not as a
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slave. There you shall find plenty of handsome young nobles who would face Issus
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herself to win a smile from you, and we shall have you married in
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short order to one of the best of them. Forget your foolish gratitude,
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begot an infatuation which your innocence has mistaken for love. I like your friendship
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better, Thuvia. You are my master. It shall be as you say,
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she replied simply, but there was a note of sadness in her voice.
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How came you here, Thuvia, I asked, And where is tars
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Tarkas? The great thark I fear is dead? She replied sadly. He
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was a mighty fighter, but a multitude of green warriors of another horde than
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his overwhelmed him. The last that I saw of him, they were bearing
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him wounded and bleeding, to the deserted city from which they had sallied to
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attack us. You are not sure that he is dead, then I asked,
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And where is the city of which you speak? It is just beyond
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this range of hills. The vessel on which you so nobly resigned a place
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that we might find escape defied our small skill in navigation, with the result
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that we drifted aimlessly about for two days. Then we decided to abandon the
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craft and attempt to make our way on foot to the nearest waterway. Yesterday
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we crossed these hills and came upon the dead city beyond we had passed within
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its streets and were walking towards the central portion, when at an intersecting avenue
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we saw a body of green warriors approaching. Tars Tarkas was in advance,
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and they saw him, but me. They did not see. The thark
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sprang back to my side and forced me into an adjacent doorway, where he
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told me to remain in hiding until I could escape, making my way to
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helium if possible. There will be no escape for me now, he said,
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for these be the Warhoon of the south. When they have seen my
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metal, it will be to the death. Then he stepped out to meet
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them, Ah, my prince. Such fighting for an hour, they had
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swarmed about him until the Warhoon dead formed a hill where he had stood.
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But at last they overwhelmed him, those behind, pushing the foremost upon him
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until there remained no space to swing his great sword. Then he stumbled and
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went down, and they rolled over him like a huge wave. When they
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carried him away toward the heart of the city, he was dead, I
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think, for I did not see him move. Before we go farther,
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we must be sure, I said, I cannot leave tars Tarkas alive among
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the warhoons to night. I shall enter the city and make sure, and
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I shall go with you, spoke Carthoris, and I said Exodar. Neither
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one of you shall go. I replied. It is work that requires stealth
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and strategy, not force. One man alone may succeed where more would invite
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disaster. I shall go alone. If I need your help, I will
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return for you. They did not like it, but both were good soldiers,
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and it had been agreed that I should command. The sun already was
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low, so that I did not have long to wait before the sudden darkness
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of Barsoom engulfed us. With a parting word of instructions to Carthoris and Exodar
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in case I should not return, I bade them all farewell, and set
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forth at a rapid dog trot towards the city. As I emerged from the
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hills, the nearer moon was winging its wild flight through the heavens, its
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bright beams turning to burnished silver, the barbaric splendor of the ancient metropolis.
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The city had been built upon the gently rolling foothills that, in the dim
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and distant past had sloped down to meet the sea. It was due to
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this fact that I had no difficulty in entering the streets unobserved. The green
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hordes that used these deserted cities seldom occupy more than a few squares about the
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central plaza, and as they come and go always across the dead sea bottoms
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that the city's face, it is usually a matter of comparative ease to enter
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from the hillside. Once within the streets, I kept close in the dense
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shadows of the walls. At intersections, I halted a moment to make sure
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that none was in sight before I sprang quickly to the shadows of the opposite
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side. Thus I made the journey to the vicinity of the plaza without detection.
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As I approached the purlus of the inhabited portion of the city, I
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was made aware of the proximity of the warriors quarters by the squealing and grunting
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of the thorts and the zitidars corralled within the hollow courtyard formed by the buildings
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surrounding each square. These old, familiar sounds that are so distinctive of Green
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Martian life, sent a thrill of pleasure surging through me. It was as
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one might feel on coming home after a long absence. It was amid such
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sounds that I had first quartered the incomparable dejah Thoris in the age old marble
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halls of the dead city of Korad. As I stood in the shadows at
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the far corner of the first square, which housed members of the Horde,
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I saw warriors emerging from several of the buildings. They all went in the
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same direction toward a great building which stood in the center of the plaza.
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My knowledge of Green Martian customs convinced me that this was either the quarters of
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the principal chieftain or contain the audience chamber wherein the Jeddak met his jeds in
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lesser chieftains. In either event, it was evident that something was afoot which
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might have a bearing on the recent capture of Tars Tarkas. To reach this
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building, which I now felt and imperative that I do, I must needs
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traversed the entire length of one square and cross a broad avenue and a portion
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of the plaza. From the noises of the animals which came from every courtyard
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about me, I knew that there were many people in the surrounding buildings,
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probably several communities of the great Horde of the Warhoons of the South. To
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pass undetected among all these people was in itself a difficult task, But if
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I was to find and rescue the Great Thark, I must expect even more
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formidable obstacles before success could be mine. I had entered the city from the
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south and now stood on the corner of the avenue through which I had passed,
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and the first intersecting avenue south of the plaza. The buildings upon the
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south side of this square did not appear to be inhabited, as I could
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see no lights, and so I decided to gain the inner courtyard through one
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of them. Nothing occurred to interrupt my progress to the deserted pile I chose,
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and I came into the inner court, close to the rear walls of
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the east buildings, without detection. Within the court, a great herd of
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thwarts and zitidars moved restlessly about cropping the mosslike oakreve vegetation, which overgrows practically
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the entire uncultivated area of Mars. What breeze there was came from the northwest,
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so there was little danger that the beasts would scent me had they their
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squealing and grunting would have grown to such a volume as to track the attention
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of the warriors. Within the buildings close to the east wall, beneath the
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overhanging balconies of the second floors, I crept in dense shadows the full length
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of the courtyard until I came to the buildings on the north end. These
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were lighted for about three floors up, but above the third floor all was
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dark. To pass through the lighted rooms was, of course out of the
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question, since they swarmed with green Martian men and women. My only path
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lay through the upper floors, and to gain these it was necessary to scale
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the face of the wall. The reaching of the balcony of the second floor
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was a matter of easy accomplishment. An agile leap gave my hands a grasp
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upon the stone hand rail above. In another instant, I had drawn myself
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upon the balcony. Here, through the open windows, I saw the green
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folks squatting upon their seat, leaping silks and furs, grunting an occasional monosyllable,
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which, in connection with their wondrous telepathic powers, is ample for their
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conversational requirements. As I drew closer to listen to their words. A warrior
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entered the room from the hall beyond, Come Tangama. He cried, we
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are to take the thark before cab Kadja. Bring another with you. The
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warrior, dressed a rose and beckoning a fellow squatting near, the three turned
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and left the apartment. If I could but follow them, the chance might
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come to free tars Tarkas at once. At least I would learn the location
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of his prison. At my right was a door leading from the balcony into
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the building. It was at the end of an unlighted hall, and on
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the impulse of the moment I stepped within. The hall was broad and led
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straight through to the front of the building. On either side were the doorways
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of the various apartments which lined it. I had no more than entered the
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corridor than I saw the three warriors at the other end, those whom I
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had just seen leaving the apartment. Then he turned to the right took them
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from my sight again. Quickly I hastened along the hallway in pursuit. My
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gait was reckless, but I felt that fate had been kind indeed, to
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throw such an opportunity within my grasp, and I could not afford to allow
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it to elude me. Now, at the far end of the corridor,
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I found a spiral stairway leading to the floors above and below. The three
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had evidently left the floor by this avenue, that they had gone down and
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not up. I was sure from my knowledge of these ancient buildings and the
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methods of the Warhoons. I myself had once been a prisoner of the cruel
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hordes of Northern Warhoon, and the memory of the underground dungeon in which I
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lay still as vivid in my memory. And so I felt certain that tars
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Tarkas lay in the dark pits beneath some near by building, and that in
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that direction I should find the trail of the three warriors leading to his cell.
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Nor was I wrong. At the bottom of the runway, or rather
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at the landing on the floor below, I saw that the shaft ascended into
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the pits beneath, and as I glanced down, the flickering light of a
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torch revealed the presence of the three I was trailing down. They went towards
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the pits beneath the structure, and at a safe distance behind I followed the
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flicker of their torch. The way led through a maze of tortuous corridors,
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unlighted save for the wavering light they carried. We had gone perhaps a hundred
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yards when the party turned abruptly through a doorway at their right. I hastened
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on as rapidly as I dared through the darkness until I reached the point at
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which they had left the corridor. There, through an open door, I
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saw them removing the chains that secured the great thark Tars Tarkas to the wall,
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hustling him roughly between them. They came immediately from the chamber, so
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quickly, in fact, that I was near to being apprehended. But I
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managed to run along the corridor in the direction I had been going in my
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pursuit of them, far enough to be without the radius of their meager light.
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As they emerged from the cell, I had naturally assumed that they would
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return with Tars Tarkas the same way that they had come, which would have
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carried them away from me. But to my chagrin, they wheeled directly in
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my direction as they left the room. There was nothing for me but to
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hasten on in advance and out of the light of their torch. I dared
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not attempt to halt in the darkness of any of the many intersecting corridors,
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for I knew nothing of the direction they might take. Chance was as likely
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as not to carry me into the very corridor they might choose to enter.
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The sensation of moving rapidly through these dark passages was far from reassuring. I
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knew not at what moment I might plunge headlong into some terrible pit, or
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meet with some of the ghoulish creatures that inhabit these lower worlds beneath the dead
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cities of Dying Mars. There filtered to me a faint radiance from the torch
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of the men behind, just enough to permit me to trace the direction of
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the winding passageways directly before me, and so keep me from dashing myself against
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the walls at the turns. Presently I came to a place where five corridors
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diverged from a common point. I had hastened along one of them for some
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little distance, when suddenly the faint light of the torch disappeared from behind me.
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I paused to listen for sounds of the party behind me, but the
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silence was as utter as the silence of the tomb. Quickly I realized that
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the warriors had taken one of the other corridors with their prisoner, and so
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I hastened back, with a feeling of considerable relief, to take up a
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much safer and more desirable position behind them. It was much slower work returning,
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however, than it had been coming, for now the darkness was as
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utter as the silence. It was necessary to feel every foot of the way
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back with my hand against the side wall, that I might not pass the
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spot where the five roads radiated. After what seemed an eternity to me,
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I reached the place and recognized it by groping across the entrances to the several
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corridors, until I had counted five of them in. Not one, however,
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showed the faintest sign of light. I listened intently, but the naked
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feet of the green men sent back no guiding echoes, though presently I thought
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I detected the clank of side arms in the far distance of the middle corridor.
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Up this then I hastened, searching for the light and stopping to listen
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occasionally for a repetition of the sound. But soon I was forced to admit
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that I must have been following a blind lead, as only darkness and silence
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rewarded my efforts. Again, I retraced my steps toward the parting of the
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ways, when to my surprise I came upon the entrance to three diverging corridors,
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any one of which I might have traversed in my hasty dash after the
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false clue I had been following. Here was a pretty fix. Indeed,
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once back at the point where the five passageways met, I might wait with
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some assurance for the return of the warriors with Tars Tarkas. My knowledge of
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their customs lent color to the belief that he was but being escorted to the
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audience chamber to have sentence passed upon him. I had not the slightest doubt
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but that they would preserve so doughty a warrior as the great Thark, for
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the rare sport he would furnish at the great Games. But unless I could
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find my way back to that point, the chances were most excellent that I
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would wander for days through the awful blackness, until overcome by thirst and hunger,
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I lay down to die. Or what was that a faint shuffling sounded
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behind me, and as I cast a hasty glance over my shoulder, my
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blood froze in my veins for the thing I saw there. It was not
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so much fear of the present danger as it was the horrifying memories it recalled
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of that time I near went mad over the corpse of the man I had
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killed in the dungeons of the Warhoons, when blazing eyes came out of the
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dark recesses and dragged the thing that had been a man from my clutches,
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and I heard it scraping over the stone of my prison as they bored away
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to their terrible feast. And now in these black pits of the other Warhoons,
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I looked into those same fiery eyes blazing at me through the terrible darkness,
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revealing no sign of the beast behind them. I think that the most
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fearsome attribute of these awesome creatures is their silence, and the fact that one
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never sees them nothing but those baleful eyes glaring unblinkingly out of the dark void
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behind. Grasping my long sword tightly in my hand, I backed slowly along
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the corridor away from the thing that watched me, But ever As I retreated,
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the eyes advanced. Nor was there any sound, not even the sound
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of breathing, except the occasional shuffling sound, as of the dragging of a
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dead limb that had first attracted my attention. On and on I went,
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but I could not escape my sinister pursuer. Suddenly I heard the shuffling noise
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at my right, and looking saw another pair of eyes, evidently approaching from
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an intersecting corridor. As I started to renew my slow retreat, I heard
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the noise repeated behind me, and then before I could turn, I heard
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it again at my left. The things were all about me. They had
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me surrounded at the intersection of two corridors. Retreat was cut off in all
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directions unless I chose to charge one of the beasts. Even then, I
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had no doubt but that the others would hurl themselves upon my back. I
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could not even guess the size or nature of the weird creatures. That they
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were of goodly proportions, I guess from the fact that the eyes were on
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a level with my own. Why is it that darkness so magnifies our dangers?
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By day I would have charged the great banth itself had I thought it
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necessary, but hemmed in by darkness of these silent pits, I hesitated before
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a pair of eyes. Soon I saw that the matter shortly I would be
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taken entirely from my hands, for the eyes at my right were moving slowly
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nearer me, as were those at my left, and those behind and before
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me. Gradually they were closing in upon me, but still that awful,
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stealthy silence. For what seemed hours, the eyes approached gradually closer and closer,
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until I felt that I should go mad for the horror of it.
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I had been constantly turning this way and that to prevent any sudden rush from
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behind, until I was fairly worn out. At length, I could endure
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it no longer, and taking a fresh grasp upon my long sword, I
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turned suddenly and charged down upon one of my tormentors. As I was almost
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upon it, the thing retreated before me, but a sound from behind caused
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me to wheel in time to see three pairs of eyes rushing at me from
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the rear. With a cry of rage, I turned to meet the cowardly
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beasts, but as I advanced, they retreated, as had their fellow.
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Another glance over my shoulder discovered the first eye sneaking on me. Again and
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again, I charged, only to see the eyes retreat before me and hear
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the muffled rush of the three at my back. Thus we continued, the
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eyes always a little closer in the end than they had been before, until
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I thought that I should go mad with the terrible strain of the ordeal.
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That they were waiting to spring upon my back seemed evident, and that it
24:11
would not be long before they succeeded was equally apparent, for I could not
24:17
endure the wear of this repeated charge and counter charge indefinitely. In fact,
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I could feel myself weakening from the mental and physical strain I had been undergoing.
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At that moment, I caught another glimpse from the corner of my eye
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of the single pair of eyes at my back, making a sudden rush upon
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me. I turned to meet the charge. There was a quick rush of
24:36
the three from the other direction, but I determined to pursue the single pair
24:40
until I should at least settle my account with one of the beasts, and
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thus be relieved of the strain of meeting attacks from both directions. There was
24:48
no sound in the corridor, only that of my own breathing. Yet I
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knew that those three uncanny creatures were almost upon me. The eyes in front
24:56
were not retreating so rapidly. Now I was almost within sword reach of the
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I raised my sword arm to deal the blow that should free me. And
25:03
then I felt a heavy body upon my back. A cold, moist,
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slimy something fastened itself upon my throat. I stumbled and went down. End
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of Chapter fourteen