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

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Chapter two Slavery. As the ruler of Ptarth, followed by his courtiers,
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descended from the landing stage above the palace, the servants dropped into their places
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in the rear of their royal or noble masters, and behind the others.
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One lingered to the last, then, quickly stooping, he snatched the sandal
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from his right foot, slipping it into his pocket pouch. When the party
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had come to the lower levels, and the Jeddak had dispersed them by a
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sign, none noticed that the forward fellow, who had drawn so much attention
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to himself before the Prince of Helium departed, was no longer among the other
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servants to whose retinue he had been attached. None had thought to inquire,
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For the followers of a martian noble are many, coming and going at the
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whim of their master, so that a new face is scarcely ever questioned,
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as the fact that the man has passed within the palace walls is considered proof
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positive that his loyalty to the Jeddak is beyond question. So rigid is the
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examination of each who seeks service with the nobles of the court, A good
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rule that and only relaxed by courtesy in favor of the retinue of visiting royalty
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from a friendly foreign power. It was late in the morning of the next
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day that a giant serving man, in the harness of the house of a
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great ptarth noble, passed out into the city from the palace gates. Along
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one broad avenue and then another. He strode briskly until he had passed beyond
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the district of nobles and had come to the place of shops. Here he
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sought a pretentious building that rose spirelike toward the heavens, its outer walls elaborately
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wrought with delicate carvings and intricate mosaics. It was the Palace of Peace,
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in which were housed the representatives of the foreign powers, or rather in which
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were located their embassies. For the ministers themselves dwelt in gorgeous palaces within the
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district occupied by the nobles. Here the man sought the embassy of Dusar.
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A clerk arose questioningly as he entered, and that his request to have a
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word with the minister. Asked his credentials, the visitor slipped a plain metal
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armlet from above his elbow, and pointing to an inscription upon its inner surface,
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whispered a word or two to the clerk. The latter's eyes went wide,
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and his attitude turned at once to one of deference. He bowed the
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stranger to a seat and hastened to an inner room with the armlet in his
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hand. A moment later he reappeared and conducted the caller into the presence of
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the minister. For a long time the two were closeted together, and when
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at last the giant serving man emerged from the inner office, his expression was
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cast in a smile of sinner mister satisfaction. From the Palace of Peace,
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he hurried directly to the palace of the Dusarian Minister. That night, two
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swift fliers left the same palace top. One sped its rapid course toward Helium.
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The other, Thuvia of Ptarth, strolled in the gardens of her father's
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palace, as was her nightly custom. Before retiring. Her silks and furs
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were drawn about her. For the air of Mars is chill. After the
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sun had taken his quick plunge beneath the planet's western verge, the girl's thoughts
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wandered from her impending nuptuels that would make her Empress of Cowl to the person
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of the trim young Heliumite who had laid his heart at her feet the preceding
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day. Whether it was pity or regret that saddened her expression as she gazed
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toward the southern heavens, where she had watched the lights of his flier disappear
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the previous night, it would be difficult to say, so, too,
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is it impossible to conjecture just what her emotions may have been as she discerned
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the lights of a flier speeding rapidly out of the distance from that very direction,
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as though impelled toward her garden by the very intensity of the princess's thoughts.
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She saw its circle lower above the palace until she was positive that it
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but hovered in preparation for a landing. Presently, the powerful rays of its
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searchlight shot downward from the bow. They fell upon the landing stage for a
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brief instant, revealing the figures of the Parthian guards, picking into brilliant points
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of fire the gems upon their gorgeous harnesses. Then the blazing eyes swept onward
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across the burnished domes and graceful minarets down into court and park and garden,
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to pause at last upon the air site bench, and the girl standing there
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beside it, her face upturned full toward the flier. For but an instant
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the searchlight halted upon Thuvia of Ptarth. Then it was extinguished, as suddenly
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as it had come to life. The flier passed on above her, to
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disappear beyond a grove of lofty skeel trees that grew within the palace grounds.
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The girl stood for some time as it had left her, except that her
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head was bent and her eyes downcast in thought. Who but Carthoris could it
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have been? She tried to feel anger that he should have returned, thus
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spying upon her, But she found it difficult to be angry with the young
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Prince of Helium. What mad Caprice could have indulged him to so transgress the
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etiquette of nations for lesser things great powers had gone to war. The princess
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in her was shocked and angered. But what of the girl and the guard?
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What of them? Evidently they too had been so much surprised by the
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unprecedented action of the stranger that they had not even challenged. But that they
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had no thought to let the thing go unnoticed was quickly evidenced by the scurring
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of motors upon the landing stage and the quick shooting airward of a long lined
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patrol boat. Thuvio watched it dart swiftly eastward, So too did other eyes
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watch. Within the dense shadows of the skeel grove in a wide avenue,
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beneath overspreading foliage, a flier hung a dozen feet above the ground from its
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deck. Keen eyes watched the far fanning searchlight of the patrol boat. No
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light shone from the enshadowed craft upon its deck was the silence of the tomb.
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Its crew of a half dozen red warriors watched the lights of the patrol
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boat diminishing in the distance. The intellects of our ancestors are with us to
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night, said one in a low tone. No plan ever carried better,
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returned another. They did precisely as the Prince foretold. He who had first
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spoken turned toward the man who squatted before the control board. Now he whispered.
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There was no other order given. Every man upon the craft had evidently
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been well schooled in each detail of that night's work. Silently the dark hull
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crept beneath the cathedral arches of the dark and silent grove. Thuvia of Ptarth,
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gazing toward the east, saw the blacker blot against the darkness of the
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trees. As the craft topped the buttress garden wall, she saw the dim
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bulk inclined gently downward toward the scarlet sward of the garden. She knew that
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men came not thus with honorable intent, Yet she did not cry aloud to
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alarm the nearby guardsmen, nor did she flee to the safety of the palace.
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Why I can see her shri rug her shapely shoulders in reply as she
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voices the age old universal answer of the woman because scarce had the flier touched
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the ground. When four men leaped from its deck, they ran forward toward
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the girl. Still she made no sign of alarm, standing as though hypnotized,
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or could it have been, as one who awaited a welcome visitor.
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Not until they were quite close to her did she move. Then the nearer
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moon, rising above the surrounding foliage, touched their faces, lighting all with
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the brilliancy of her silver rays. Thuvia of Ptarth saw only strangers, warriors
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in the harness of Dusar. Now she took fright, but too late.
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Before she could voice, but a single cry, rough hands seized her.
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A heavy silken scarf was wound about her head. She was lifted in strong
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arms and borne to the deck of the flower. There was the sudden whirl
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of propellers, a rushing of air against her body, and from far beneath,
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the shouting and challenge from the guard. Racing toward the south, another
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flier sped toward Helium. In its cabin, a tall red man bent over
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the soft soul of an upturned sandal. With delicate instruments, he measured the
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faint imprint of a small object, which appeared there upon a pad. Beside
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him was the outline of a key, and here he noted the results of
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his measurements. A smile played upon his lips as he completed his task and
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turned to one who waited at the opposite side of the table. The man
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is a genius, he remarked. Only a genius could have evolved such a
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lock as this is designed to spring Here, take the sketch, Larrac,
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and give all thine own genius full and unfettered freedom and reproducing it in metal.
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The warrior outificer bowed man build not He said that man may not destroy.
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Then he left the cabin with the sketch. As dawn broke upon the
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lofty towers which marked the twin cities of Helium, the scarlet tower of one
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and the yellow tower of its sister, a flier floated lazily out of the
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north. Upon its bow was emblazoned insignia of a lesser noble, of a
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far city of the Empire of Helium. Its leisurely approach and the evident confidence
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with which it moved across the city aroused no suspicion in the minds of the
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sleepy guard. There, round of duty nearly done, they had little thought
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beyond the coming of those who were to relieve them. Peace reigned throughout Helium,
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stagnant, emasculating peace. Helium had no enemies. There was nought to
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fear. Without haste, the nearest air patrol swung sluggishly about and approached the
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stranger at easy speaking distance. The officer upon her deck hailed the incoming craft,
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the cheery kowor, and the plausible explanation that the owner had come from
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distant parts for a few days of pleasure in gay Helium sufficed the air patrol
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boat sheered off, passing again upon its way. The stranger continued toward a
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public landing stage, where she dropped into the ways and came to rest.
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At about the same time a warrior entered her cabin. It is done,
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Vaskor, he said, handing a small metal key to the tall noble,
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who had just risen from his sleeping silks and furs. Good exclaimed the latter.
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You must have worked upon it all during the night, Larok. The
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warrior nodded. Now, fetch me the heliumetic metal you wrought some days since,
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commanded Vaskor. This done. The warrior assisted his master to replace the
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handsome jeweled metas of his harness with the plainer ornaments of an ordinary fighting man
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of Helium, and with this insignia of the same house that appeared upon the
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bow of the flier. Vast Corps breakfasted on board. Then he emerged upon
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the aerial dock, entered an elevator, and was borne quickly to the street
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below, where he was soon engulfed by the early morning throng of workers hastening
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to their daily duties among them. His warrior trappings were no more remarkable than
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as a pair of trousers upon Broadway. All Martian men are warriors, save
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those physically unable to bear arms. The tradesmen and his clerk clank with their
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martial trappings as they pursue their vocations. The schoolboy, coming into the world
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as he does, almost adult from the snowy shell that has encompassed his development
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for five long years, knows so little of life without a sword at his
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hip that he would feel the same discomfiture at going abroad unarmed that an earth
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boy would Expelians in walking the streets. Knickerbockerless vast Corp's destination lay in Greater
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Helium, which lies some seventy five miles across the level plain from Lesser Helium.
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He had landed at the latter city because the air patrol is less suspicious
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and alert than that above the larger metropolis, where lies the Palace of the
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Jeddak. As he moved with the throng in the park like canyon of the
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Thoroughfare, the life of an awakening Martian city was in evidence about him.
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Houses raised high upon their slender metal columns, for the night were dropping gently
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toward the ground among the flowers. Upon the scarlet sward which lies about the
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buildings. Children were already playing, and comely women laughing and chatting with their
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neighbors as they called gorgeous blossoms for the vases within doors. The pleasant care
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of the Borsomian greeting fell continually upon the ears of the stranger, as friends
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and neighbors took up the duties of a new day. The district in which
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he had landed was residential, a district of merchants of the more prosperous sort.
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Everywhere were evidences of luxury and wealth. Slaves appeared upon every housetop with
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gorgeous silks and costly furs, laying them in the sun for erring jewel Encrusted
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women lulled even thus early upon the carved balconies before their sleeping apartments. Later
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in the day they would repair to their roofs. When the slaves had arranged
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couches and pitched silken canopies to shade them from the sun, strains of inspiring
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music broke pleasantly from open windows. For the Martians have solved the problem of
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attuning the nerves pleasantly to the sudden transition from sleep to waking that proved so
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difficult a thing for most earth folk. Above him raced the long light passenger
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fliers, plying, each in its proper plane, which was beween the numerous
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landing stages for internal passenger traffic. Landing stages that tower high into the heavens
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are for the great international passenger liners. Freighters have other landing stages at various
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lower levels, to within a couple hundred feet of the ground. Nor dare
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any flyer rise or drop from one plane to another, except in certain restricted
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districts where horizontal traffic is forbidden. Along the close cropped sward which paves the
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avenue, ground flyers were moving in continuous lines in opposite directions. For the
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greater part they skimmed along the surface of the sward, soaring gracefully into the
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air, at times to pass over a slower going driver ahead, or at
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intersections where the north and south traffic has the right of way and the east
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and west must rise above it. From private hangars. Upon many a rooftop
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flyers were darting into the line of traffic, gay farewells and parting admonitions mingled
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with the whirring of motors and the subdued noises of the city. Yet with
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all the swift movement and the countless thousands rushing hither and thither, the predominant
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suggestion was that of luxurious ease and soft noiselessness. Martians dislike harsh, discordant
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clamor. The only loud noises they can abide are the martial sounds of war,
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the clash of arms, the collision of two mighty dreadnoughts of the air.
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To them, there is no sweeter music than this. At the intersection
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of two broad avenues, vas Kor descended from the street level to one of
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the great pneumatic stations of the city. Here he paid, before little Wicket
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the fare to his destination with a couple of the dull oval coins of helium.
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Beyond the gate keeper, he came to a slowly moving line of what
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to earthly eyes would have appeared to be conical nosed eight foot projectiles for some
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giant gun. In slow procession, the things moved in single file along a
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grooved track. A half dozen attendants assisted passengers to enter, or directed those
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carriers to their proper destination. The vast core approached one that was empty.
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Upon its nose was a dial and a pointer. He set the pointer for
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a certain station, and Greater Helium raised the arched lid of the thing,
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stepped in and laid down upon the upholstered bottom. An attendant closed the lid,
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which locked with a little click, and the carrier continued its slow way.
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Presently, it switched itself automatically to another track to enter a moment later,
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one of the series of dark mouthed tubes. The instant that its entire
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length was within the black aperture, it sprang forward with the speed of a
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rifle ball. There was an instant of whizzing, a soft though sudden stop,
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and slowly the carrier emerged upon another platform. Another attendant raised the lid
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and vas kor stepped out at the station beneath the center of Greater Helium,
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seventy five miles from the point at which he had embarked. Here, he
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sought the street level, stepping immediately into a waiting ground flier. He spoke
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no word to the slaves sitting in the driver's seat. It was evident that
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he had been expected, and that the fellow had received his instructions before his
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coming. Scarcely had vas Kor taken his seat when the flier went quickly into
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the fast moving procession, turning presently from the broad and crowded avenues into a
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less congested street. Presently it left the thronged district behind to enter a section
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of small shops, where it stopped before the entrance to one which bore the
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sign of a dealer in foreign silks. Vas Kor entered the low ceiling room.
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A man at the far end motioned him toward an inner apartment, giving
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no further sign of recognition until he had passed the inn after the collar and
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closed the door. Then he faced his visitor, saluting deferentially. Most noble,
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he commenced, but Vaskort silenced him with a gesture no formalities. He
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said, we must forget that I am aught other than your slave. If
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all has been as carefully carried out as it has been planned, we have
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no time to waste. Instead, we should be upon our way to the
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slave market. Are you ready? The merchant nodded, and, turning to
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a great chest, produced the unemblazoned trappings of a slave. These Vaskors immediately
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dawned. Then the two passed from the shop through a rear door, traversed
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a winding alley to an avenue beyond where they entered a flier which awaited them.
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Five minutes later, the merchant was leading his slave to the public market,
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where a great concourse of people filled the great open space in the center
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of which stood the slave block. The crowds were enormous to day, for
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Carthoris, Prince of Helium, was to be the principal bidder. One by
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one, the masters mounted the rostrum beside the sleigh block upon which stood their
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chattels. Briefly and clearly, each recounted the virtues of his particular offering.
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When all were done, the Majordomo of the Prince of Helium recalled to the
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block such as had favorably impressed him. For such he had made a fair
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offer. There was little haggling as to price, and none at all when
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vascort was placed upon the block. His merchant master accepted the first offer that
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was made for him, and thus a Dusarian noble entered the house of Carthoris.
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End of Chapter two