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

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Chapter five, Corridors of Peril. How long I slept upon the floor of
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the store room, I do not know, but it must have been many
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hours. I was awakened with a start by cries of alarm and scarce were
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my eyes opened, nor had I yet sufficiently collected my wits to quite realize
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where I was, when a fusillade of shots rang out, reverberating through subterranean
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corridors in a series of deafening echoes. In an instant I was upon my
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feet. A dozen lesser Therns confronted us from a large doorway at the opposite
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end of the store room from which we had entered. About me lay the
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bodies of my companions, with the exception of Thuvia and tars Tarkas, who,
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like myself, had been asleep upon the floor and thus escaped the first
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raking fire. As I gained my feet, the Therns lowered their wicked rifles,
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their faces distorted and mingled chagrin, consternation, and alarm. Instantly I
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rose to the occasion. What means this, I cried, in tones of
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fierce anger. Is stor Throg to be murdered by his own vassals? Have
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mercy O master of the tense cycle, cried one of the fellows, while
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the others edged toward the doorway, as though to attempt a sir repetitious escape
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from the presence of the mighty one. Ask them their mission? Here,
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whispered Thuvia at my elbow. What do you hear, fellows, I cried,
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Two from the outer world are at large within the dominions of the Thorns.
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We sought them at the command of the Father of Thorns. One was
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white with black hair, the other a huge green warrior. And here the
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fellow cast a suspicious glance toward tars Tarkas here then is one of them,
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spoke Thuvia, indicating the Thark. And if you will look upon this dead
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man by the door, perhaps you will recognize the other. It was left
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for stor Throg and his poor slaves to accomplish what the lesser Thorns of the
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guard were unable to do. We have killed one and captured the other.
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For this, had Sir tor Throg given us our liberty. And now,
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in your stupidity have you come and killed all but myself, and liked to
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have killed the mighty Sator Throg himself. The men looked very sheepish and very
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scared. Had they not better throw these bodies to the plant men and then
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returned to their quarters. O Mighty One asked Thuvia of me. Yes,
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do as Thuvia bids you, I said. As the men picked up the
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bodies, I noticed that the one who stooped to gather up the late setor
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throg started as his closer scrutiny fell upon the upturned face, and then the
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fellow stole a furtive, sneaking glance in my direction from the corner of his
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eye. That he suspicion something of the truth I could have sworn, but
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that it was only a suspicion which he did not dare. Voice was evidenced
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by his silence again. As he bore the body from the room, he
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shot a quick but searching glance toward me, and then his eyes fell once
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more upon the bald and shiny dome of the dead man in his arms.
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The last fleeting glimpse that I obtained of his profile as he passed from my
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sight without the chamber, revealed a cunning smile of triumph upon his lips.
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Only tars Tarkas Thuvia and I were left. The fatal marksmanship of the thorns
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had snatched from our companions whatever slender chance they had of gaining their perilous freedom
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of the world without. So soon as the last of the gruesome procession had
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disappeared, the girl urged us to take up our flight once more. She
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too had noted the questioning attitude of the Thurn, who had borne so tore
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throg away. It bodes no good for us, o Prince, she said,
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for even though this fellow dared not chance accusing you in air, there
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be those above with power sufficient to demand a closer scrutiny, and that Prince
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would indeed prove fatal. I shrugged my shoulders. It seemed that, in
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any event, the outcome of our plight must end in death. I was
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refreshed from my sleep, but still weak from loss of blood. My wounds
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were painful. No medicinal aid seemed possible. How I longed for the all
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most miraculous healing power of the strange salves and lotions of the green Martian women.
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In an hour they would have had be as new. I was discouraged.
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Never had a feeling of such utter hopelessness come over me in the face
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of danger. Then the long flowing yellow locks of the Holy Thern, caught
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by some vagrant draft, blew about my face. Might they not still open
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the way of freedom? If we acted in time? Might we not even
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yet escape before the general alarm was sounded? We could at least try.
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What will the fellow do first, Thuvia I asked, how long will it
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be before they may return for us? He will go directly to the father
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of Therns, old Matai Shang. He may have to wait for an audience,
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But since he is very high among the lesser Therns, in fact as
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a Thorian among them, it will not be long that Matai Shang will keep
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him waiting. Then, if the father of Therns puts credence in his story,
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another hour, or will see the galleries and chambers, the courts and
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gardens filled with searchers. What we do then must be done within an hour.
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What is the best way, Thuvia, The shortest way out of this
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celestial hades, straight to the top of the cliffs, Prince, she replied,
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And then through the gardens to the inner courts. From there our way
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will lie within the temples of the Theerns and across them to the outer court.
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Then the ramparts, O Prince, it is hopeless. Ten thousand warriors
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could not hew a way to liberty from out this awful place. Since the
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beginning of time, little by little, stone by stone have the Theerns been
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ever adding to the defenses of their stronghold. A continuous line of impregnable fortification
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circles the outer slopes of the mountains of Ords. Within the temples that lie
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behind the ramparts, a million fighting men are ever ready. The courts and
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gardens are filled with slaves, with women, and with children. None could
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go as stones throw without detection. If there is no other way, Thuvia,
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Why dwell upon the difficulties of this we must face them? Can we
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not better make the attempt after dark? Asked tars Tarkas. There would seem
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to be no chance by day. There would be a little better chance by
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night. But even then the ramparts are well guarded, possibly better than by
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day. There are fewer abroad in the courts and gardens, though, said
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Thuvia. What is the hour? I asked? It was midnight when you
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released me from my chains, said Thubia. Two hours later we reached the
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store room. There you slept for fourteen hours. It must now be nearly
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sundown again. Come, we will go to some near by window in the
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cliff and make sure so saying, she led the way through the winding corridors
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until a sudden turn we came upon an opening which overlooked the valley door.
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At our right. The sun was setting a huge red orb below the western
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range of Orts. A little below us stood the Holy Thurn on watch upon
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his bow alcony. His scarlet robe of office was pulled tightly about him in
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anticipation of the cold that comes so suddenly with the darkness as the sun sets.
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So rare is the atmosphere of Mars, that absorb very little heat from
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the sun during the daylight hours, it is always extremely hot. At night,
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it is intensely cold. Nor does the thin atmosphere refract the Sun's rays
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or diffuse its light. As upon Earth. There is no twilight on Mars.
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When the great orb of day disappears beneath the horizon, the effect as
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precisely as that of the extinguishing of a single lamp within a chamber from brilliant
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light, you are plunged without warning into utter darkness. Then the moons come,
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the mysterious magic moons of Mars, hurtling like monster meteors low across the
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face of the planet. The declining sun lighted brilliantly the eastern banks, of
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course, the crimson sword the gorgeous forest. Beneath the trees we saw feeding
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many herds of plant men. The adults stood aloft upon their toes and their
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mighty tails, their talons pruning every available leaf and twig. It was then
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that I understood the careful trimming of the trees which had led me to form
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the mistaken idea when first I opened my eyes upon the grove, that it
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was the playground of a civilized people. As we watched, our eyes wandered
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to the rolling ish which issued from the base of the cliffs beneath us.
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Presently there emerged from the mountain a canoe laden with lost souls from the outer
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world. There were a dozen of them. All were of the highly civilized
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and cultured race of red men, who are dominant on Mars. The eyes
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of the herald upon the balcony beneath us fell upon the doomed party as soon
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as did ours. He raised his head, and, leaning far out over
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the low rail that rimmed his dizzy perch, voiced the shrill, weird wail
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that called the demons of this hellish place to the attack. For an instant
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the brutes stood with stiffly erect ears. Then they poured from the grove toward
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the river's bank, covering the distance with great, ungainly leaps. The party
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had landed and was standing on the sward as the awful horde came in sight.
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There was a brief and futile effort of defense, then silence as the
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huge, repulsive shapes covered the bodies of their victims, and scores of sucking
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mouths fastened themselves to the flesh of their prey. I turned away in discuss
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their part is soon over, said Thuvia. The great white apes get the
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flesh when the plant men have drained the arteries. Look they are coming now.
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As I turned my eyes in the direction the girl indicated, I saw
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a dozen of the great white monsters running across the valley toward the river bank.
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Then the sun went down, and darkness that could almost be felt engulfed
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us. Thuvia lost no time in leading us toward the corridor, which winds
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back and forth up through the cliffs towards the surface, thousands of feet above
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the level on which we had been. Twice, great banths wandering loose through
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the galleries blocked our progress, But in each instance Thuvius spoke a low word
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of command, and the starling beasts slunk sullenly away. If you can dissolve
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all our obstacles as easily as you master these fierce brutes, I can see
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no difficulties in our way, I said to the girl, smiling, How
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do you do it? She laughed, and then shuddered. I do not
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quite know, she said. When first I came here, I angered sator
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Throg. Because I repulsed him, he ordered me to be thrown into one
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of the great pits in the inner gardens. It was filled with banths.
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In my own country, I had been accustomed to command. Something in my
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voice, I do not know what cowed the beasts as they sprang to attack
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me. Instead of tearing me to pieces, as sator Throg had desired,
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they fawned at my feet. So greatly was the tore Throg and his friends
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amused by the sight that they kept me to train and handle the terrible creatures.
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I know them all by name. There are many of them wandering through
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these lower regions. They are the scavengers. Many prisoners die here in their
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chains. The bants solve the problem of sanitation, at least in this respect.
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In the gardens and temples above they are kept in pits. The thurns
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fear them. It is because of the bands that they seldom venture below ground,
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except as their duty call them. An idea occurred to me, suggested
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by what Thuvie had just said. Why not take a number of bands and
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set them aloof before us above ground? I asked. Thuvia laughed, It
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would distract attention from us. I am sure, she said, She commenced,
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calling in a low, sing song voice that was half per She continued
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this as we wound our tedious way through the maze of subterranean passages and chambers.
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Presently, soft padded feet sounded close behind us, and as I turned,
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I saw a pair of great green eyes shining in the dark shadows.
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At our rear. From a diver urging tunnel, a sinuous, tawny form
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crept stealthily toward us. Low growls and angry snarls assailed our ears on every
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side, as we hastened on, and one by one the ferocious creatures answered
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the call of their mistress. She spoke a word to each as it joined
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us. Like well schooled terriers, they paced the corridors with us. But
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I could not help but note the lathering jowls, nor the hungry expressions with
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which they eyed Tars Tarkas and myself. Soon we were entirely surrounded by some
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fifty of the brutes. Two walked close on either side of Thuvia, as
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guards might walk the sleek sides of others now, and then touched my own
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naked limbs. It was a strange experience, the almost noiseless passage of naked
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human feet and padded paws, the golden walls splashed with precious stones, the
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dim light cast by the tiny radium bulbs set at considerable distances along the roof,
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the huge manned beasts of prey crowding with low growls about us, the
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mighty green warrior towering high above us, all myself crowned with the priceless diadem
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of a holy thern, and leading the procession, the beautiful girl Thuvia.
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I shall not soon forget it. Presently we approached a great chamber, more
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brightly lighted than the corridors. Thuvia halted us quietly. She stole toward the
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entrance and glanced within. Then she motioned us to follow her. The room
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was filled with specimens of the strange beings that inhabit this underworld. A heterogeneous
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collection of high Breds, the offspring of the prisoners from the outside world,
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red and green Martians, and the white race of Therns. Constant confinement below
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ground had wrought odd freaks upon their skins. They more resembled corpses than living
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beings. Many are deformed, others maimed, while the majority, Thuvia explained,
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are sightless. As they lay sprawled about the floor, sometimes overlapped one
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another again in heaps of several bodies. They suggested instantly to me the grotesque
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illustrations that I had seen in copies of Dante's Inferno, And what more fitting
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comparison was this? Not, indeed a variable hell, peopled by lost souls,
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dead and damned beyond all hope. Picking our way carefully, we threaded
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a winding path across the chamber, the great bands sniffing hungrily at the tempting
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prey spread before them in such tantalizing and defenseless profusion. Several times we passed
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the entrances to other chambers similarly peopled, and twice again we were compelled to
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cross directly through them. In others were chained prisoners and beasts. Why is
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it that we see no urns, I asked Ephthuvia. They seldom traversed the
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underworld at night, For then it is that the great bands prowl the dim
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corridor seeking their prey. The Thurns fear the awful denizens of this cruel and
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hopeless world that they have fostered and allowed to grow beneath their feet. The
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prisoners even sometimes turn upon them and rent them. The thurn can never tell
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from what dark shadow and assassin may spring upon his back. By day it
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is different. Then. The corridors and chambers are filled with guards passing to
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and fro. Slaves from the temples above come by hundreds to the granaries and
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store rooms. All is life. Then, you did not see it,
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because I led you not in the beaten tracks, but through roundabout passages seldom
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used. Yet it is possible that we might meet a thern. Even yet
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they do occasionally find it necessary to come here after the sun has set.
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Because of this, I have moved with such great caution. But we reached
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the upper galleries without detection, and presently Thuvia halted us. At the foot
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of a short steep ascent. Above us, she said, is a doorway
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which opens on to the inner gardens. I have brought you thus far from
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here on for four miles to the outer ramparts, our way will be beset
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by countless dangers. Guards patrol the courts, the temples, the gardens.
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Every inch of the ramparts themselves is beneath the eye of a sentry. I
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cannot understand the necessity for such an enormous force of armed men about a spot
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so surrounded by mystery and superstition, that not a soul upon Barsoom would have
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dared to approach it, even had they known its exact location. I questioned
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Thuvia, asking her what enemies the Therns could fear in their impregnable fortress.
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We had reached the doorway now and Thuvia was opening it. They feared the
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black pirates of Barsoom. O Prince, she said, from whom may our
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first ancestors preserve us. The door swung open, the smell of growing things
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greeted my nostrils. The cool night air blew against my cheek. The great
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banths sniffed the unfamiliar odors, and then with a rush, they broke past
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us, with low growls, swarming across the gardens beneath the lurid light of
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the nearer moon. Suddenly only a great cry arose from the roofs of the
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temples, a cry of alarm and warning that taken up from point to point,
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ran off to the east and to the west, from temple court and
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rampart, until it sounded as a dim echo in the distance. The Great
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Thorpe's long sword leaped from its scabbard. Thuvius shrank, shuddering to my side.
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End of Chapter five.