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\hyphenation{De-j-ah}

\hyphenation{Tho-r-is}

\hyphenation{Ta-ra}

\hyphenation{Car-tho-r-is}




\title{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}


\author{Edgar Rice Burroughs}

\maketitle
\vspace*{\stretch{1}}

\noindent This public-domain (U.S.) text was prepared by Judy Boss,
Omaha, NE. The Project Gutenberg edition ({}``cmars12'') was subsequently
converted to \LaTeX{} using \textbf{GutenMark} software and re-edited
(for formatting only) by Ron Burkey. Report problems to info@sandroid.org.
Revision C1 differs from C in that {}``----'' has everywhere been
replaced by {}``---''.

\noindent \begin{center}Revision: C1\\
Date: 01/27/2008\end{center}

\vspace{\stretch{1}}

\frontmatter

\pagestyle{myheadings} 

{\small \tableofcontents{}}

\newpage

\mainmatter


\chapter*{\raggedright PRELUDE. JOHN CARTER COMES TO EARTH}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{PRELUDE.\\
JOHN CARTER COMES TO EARTH}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{JOHN CARTER COMES TO EARTH}

\textit{\emph{Shea}} had just beaten me at chess, as usual, and, also
as usual, I had gleaned what questionable satisfaction I might by
twitting him with this indication of failing mentality by calling
his attention to the \emph{n}th time to that theory, propounded by
certain scientists, which is based upon the assertion that phenomenal
chess players are always found to be from the ranks of children under
twelve, adults over seventy-two or the mentally defective\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
theory that is lightly ignored upon those rare occasions that I win.
Shea had gone to bed and I should have followed suit, for we are always
in the saddle here before sunrise; but instead I sat there before
the chess table in the library, idly blowing smoke at the dishonored
head of my defeated king.

While thus profitably employed I heard the east door of the living-room
open and someone enter. I thought it was Shea returning to speak with
me on some matter of tomorrow's work; but when I raised my eyes to
the doorway that connects the two rooms I saw framed there the figure
of a bronzed giant, his otherwise naked body trapped with a jewel-encrusted
harness from which there hung at one side an ornate short-sword and
at the other a pistol of strange pattern. The black hair, the steel-gray
eyes, brave and smiling, the noble features\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]I
recognized them at once, and leaping to my feet I advanced with outstretched
hand.

{}``John Carter!''\ I cried. {}``You?''

{}``None other, my son,'' he replied, taking my hand in one of his
and placing the other upon my shoulder.

{}``And what are you doing here?''\ I asked. {}``It has been long
years since you revisited Earth, and never before in the trappings
of Mars. Lord!\ but it is good to see you\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and
not a day older in appearance than when you trotted me on your knee
in my babyhood. How do you explain it, John Carter, Warlord of Mars,
or do you try to explain it?''

{}``Why attempt to explain the inexplicable?''\ he replied. {}``As
I have told you before, I am a very old man. I do not know how old
I am. I recall no childhood; but recollect only having been always
as you see me now and as you saw me first when you were five years
old. You, yourself, have aged, though not as much as most men in a
corresponding number of years, which may be accounted for by the fact
that the same blood runs in our veins; but I have not aged at all.
I have discussed the question with a noted Martian scientist, a friend
of mine; but his theories are still only theories. However, I am content
with the fact\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]I never age, and I love life
and the vigor of youth.

{}``And now as to your natural question as to what brings me to Earth
again and in this, to earthly eyes, strange habiliment. We may thank
Kar Komak, the bowman of Lothar. It was he who gave me the idea upon
which I have been experimenting until at last I have achieved success.
As you know I have long possessed the power to cross the void in spirit,
but never before have I been able to impart to inanimate things a
similar power. Now, however, you see me for the first time precisely
as my Martian fellows see me\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]you see the very
short-sword that has tasted the blood of many a savage foeman; the
harness with the devices of Helium and the insignia of my rank; the
pistol that was presented to me by Tars Tarkas, Jeddak of Thark.

{}``Aside from seeing you, which is my principal reason for being
here, and satisfying myself that I can transport inanimate things
from Mars to Earth, and therefore animate things if I so desire, I
have no purpose. Earth is not for me. My every interest is upon Barsoom\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]my
wife, my children, my work; all are there. I will spend a quiet evening
with you and then back to the world I love even better than I love
life.''

As he spoke he dropped into the chair upon the opposite side of the
chess table.

{}``You spoke of children,'' I said. {}``Have you more than Carthoris?''

{}``A daughter,'' he replied, {}``only a little younger than Carthoris,
and, barring one, the fairest thing that ever breathed the thin air
of dying Mars. Only Dejah Thoris, her mother, could be more beautiful
than Tara of Helium.''

For a moment he fingered the chessmen idly. {}``We have a game on
Mars similar to chess,'' he said, {}``very similar. And there is
a race there that plays it grimly with men and naked swords. We call
the game jetan. It is played on a board like yours, except that there
are a hundred squares and we use twenty pieces on each side. I never
see it played without thinking of Tara of Helium and what befell her
among the chessmen of Barsoom. Would you like to hear her story?''

I said that I would and so he told it to me, and now I shall try to
re-tell it for you as nearly in the words of The Warlord of Mars as
I can recall them, but in the third person. If there be inconsistencies
and errors, let the blame fall not upon John Carter, but rather upon
my faulty memory, where it belongs. It is a strange tale and utterly
Barsoomian.


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER I.\  TARA IN A TANTRUM}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER I.\\
TARA IN A TANTRUM}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{TARA IN A TANTRUM}

\textit{\emph{Tara}} of Helium rose from the pile of silks and soft
furs upon which she had been reclining, stretched her lithe body languidly,
and crossed toward the center of the room, where, above a large table,
a bronze disc depended from the low ceiling. Her carriage was that
of health and physical perfection\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the effortless
harmony of faultless coordination. A scarf of silken gossamer crossing
over one shoulder was wrapped about her body; her black hair was piled
high upon her head. With a wooden stick she tapped upon the bronze
disc, lightly, and presently the summons was answered by a slave girl,
who entered, smiling, to be greeted similarly by her mistress.

{}``Are my father's guests arriving?''\ asked the princess.

{}``Yes, Tara of Helium, they come,'' replied the slave. {}``I
have seen Kantos Kan, Overlord of the Navy, and Prince Soran of Ptarth,
and Djor Kantos, son of Kantos Kan,'' she shot a roguish glance at
her mistress as she mentioned Djor Kantos' name, {}``and\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]oh,
there were others, many have come.''

{}``The bath, then, Uthia,'' said her mistress. {}``And why, Uthia,''
she added, {}``do you look thus and smile when you mention the name
of Djor Kantos?''

The slave girl laughed gaily. {}``It is so plain to all that he worships
you,'' she replied.

{}``It is not plain to me,'' said Tara of Helium. {}``He is the
friend of my brother, Carthoris, and so he is here much; but not to
see me. It is his friendship for Carthoris that brings him thus often
to the palace of my father.''

{}``But Carthoris is hunting in the north with Talu, Jeddak of Okar,''
Uthia reminded her.

{}``My bath, Uthia!''\ cried Tara of Helium. {}``That tongue of
yours will bring you to some misadventure yet.''

{}``The bath is ready, Tara of Helium,'' the girl responded, her
eyes still twinkling with merriment, for she well knew that in the
heart of her mistress was no anger that could displace the love of
the princess for her slave. Preceding the daughter of The Warlord
she opened the door of an adjoining room where lay the bath\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
gleaming pool of scented water in a marble basin. Golden stanchions
supported a chain of gold encircling it and leading down into the
water on either side of marble steps. A glass dome let in the sun-light,
which flooded the interior, glancing from the polished white of the
marble walls and the procession of bathers and fishes, which, in conventional
design, were inlaid with gold in a broad band that circled the room.

Tara of Helium removed the scarf from about her and handed it to the
slave. Slowly she descended the steps to the water, the temperature
of which she tested with a symmetrical foot, undeformed by tight shoes
and high heels\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a lovely foot, as God intended
that feet should be and seldom are. Finding the water to her liking,
the girl swam leisurely to and fro about the pool. With the silken
ease of the seal she swam, now at the surface, now below, her smooth
muscles rolling softly beneath her clear skin\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
wordless song of health and happiness and grace. Presently she emerged
and gave herself into the hands of the slave girl, who rubbed the
body of her mistress with a sweet smelling semi-liquid substance contained
in a golden urn, until the glowing skin was covered with a foamy lather,
then a quick plunge into the pool, a drying with soft towels, and
the bath was over. Typical of the life of the princess was the simple
elegance of her bath\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]no retinue of useless
slaves, no pomp, no idle waste of precious moments. In another half
hour her hair was dried and built into the strange, but becoming,
coiffure of her station; her leathern trappings, encrusted with gold
and jewels, had been adjusted to her figure and she was ready to mingle
with the guests that had been bidden to the midday function at the
palace of The Warlord.

As she left her apartments to make her way to the gardens where the
guests were congregating, two warriors, the insignia of the House
of the Prince of Helium upon their harness, followed a few paces behind
her, grim reminders that the assassin's blade may never be ignored
upon Barsoom, where, in a measure, it counterbalances the great natural
span of human life, which is estimated at not less than a thousand
years.

As they neared the entrance to the garden another woman, similarly
guarded, approached them from another quarter of the great palace.
As she neared them Tara of Helium turned toward her with a smile and
a happy greeting, while her guards knelt with bowed heads in willing
and voluntary adoration of the beloved of Helium. Thus always, solely
at the command of their own hearts, did the warriors of Helium greet
Dejah Thoris, whose deathless beauty had more than once brought them
to bloody warfare with other nations of Barsoom. So great was the
love of the people of Helium for the mate of John Carter it amounted
practically to worship, as though she were indeed the goddess that
she looked.

The mother and daughter exhanged the gentle, Barsoomian, {}``kaor''
of greeting and kissed. Then together they entered the gardens where
the guests were. A huge warrior drew his short-sword and struck his
metal shield with the flat of it, the brazen sound ringing out above
the laughter and the speech.

{}``The Princess comes!''\ he cried. {}``Dejah Thoris! The Princess
comes! Tara of Helium!''\ Thus always is royalty announced. The
guests arose; the two women inclined their heads; the guards fell
back upon either side of the entrance-way; a number of nobles advanced
to pay their respects; the laughing and the talking were resumed and
Dejah Thoris and her daughter moved simply and naturally among their
guests, no suggestion of differing rank apparent in the bearing of
any who were there, though there was more than a single Jeddak and
many common warriors whose only title lay in brave deeds, or noble
patriotism. Thus it is upon Mars where men are judged upon their own
merits rather than upon those of their grandsires, even though pride
of lineage be great.

Tara of Helium let her slow gaze wander among the throng of guests
until presently it halted upon one she sought. Was the faint shadow
of a frown that crossed her brow an indication of displeasure at the
sight that met her eyes, or did the brilliant rays of the noonday
sun distress her? Who may say! She had been reared to believe that
one day she should wed Djor Kantos, son of her father's best friend.
It had been the dearest wish of Kantos Kan and The Warlord that this
should be, and Tara of Helium had accepted it as a matter of all but
accomplished fact. Djor Kantos had seemed to accept the matter in
the same way. They had spoken of it casually as something that would,
as a matter of course, take place in the indefinite future, as, for
instance, his promotion in the navy, in which he was now a padwar;
or the set functions of the court of her grandfather, Tardos Mors,
Jeddak of Helium; or Death. They had never spoken of love and that
had puzzled Tara of Helium upon the rare occasions she gave it thought,
for she knew that people who were to wed were usually much occupied
with the matter of love and she had all of a woman's curiosity\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]she
wondered what love was like. She was very fond of Djor Kantos and
she knew that he was very fond of her. They liked to be together,
for they liked the same things and the same people and the same books
and their dancing was a joy, not only to themselves but to those who
watched them. She could not imagine wanting to marry anyone other
than Djor Kantos.

So perhaps it was only the sun that made her brows contract just the
tiniest bit at the same instant that she discovered Djor Kantos sitting
in earnest conversation with Olvia Marthis, daughter of the Jed of
Hastor. It was Djor Kantos' duty immediately to pay his respects to
Dejah Thoris and Tara of Helium; but he did not do so and presently
the daughter of The Warlord frowned indeed. She looked long at Olvia
Marthis, and though she had seen her many times before and knew her
well, she looked at her today through new eyes that saw, apparently
for the first time, that the girl from Hastor was noticeably beautiful
even among those other beautiful women of Helium. Tara of Helium was
disturbed. She attempted to analyze her emotions; but found it difficult.
Olvia Marthis was her friend\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]she was very
fond of her and she felt no anger toward her. Was she angry with Djor
Kantos? No, she finally decided that she was not. It was merely surprise,
then, that she felt\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]surprise that Djor Kantos
could be more interested in another than in herself. She was about
to cross the garden and join them when she heard her father's voice
directly behind her.

{}``Tara of Helium!''\ he called, and she turned to see him approaching
with a strange warrior whose harness and metal bore devices with which
she was unfamiliar. Even among the gorgeous trappings of the men of
Helium and the visitors from distant empires those of the stranger
were remarkable for their barbaric splendor. The leather of his harness
was completely hidden beneath ornaments of platinum thickly set with
brilliant diamonds, as were the scabbards of his swords and the ornate
holster that held his long, Martian pistol. Moving through the sunlit
garden at the side of the great Warlord, the scintillant rays of his
countless gems enveloping him as in an aureole of light imparted to
his noble figure a suggestion of godliness.

{}``Tara of Helium, I bring you Gahan, Jed of Gathol,'' said John
Carter, after the simple Barsoomian custom of presentation.

{}``Kaor! Gahan, Jed of Gathol,'' returned Tara of Helium.

{}``My sword is at your feet, Tara of Helium,'' said the young chieftain.

The Warlord left them and the two seated themselves upon an ersite
bench beneath a spreading sorapus tree.

{}``Far Gathol,'' mused the girl. {}``Ever in my mind has it been
connected with mystery and romance and the half-forgotten lore of
the ancients. I cannot think of Gathol as existing today, possibly
because I have never before seen a Gatholian.''

{}``And perhaps too because of the great distance that separates
Helium and Gathol, as well as the comparative insignificance of my
little free city, which might easily be lost in one corner of mighty
Helium,'' added Gahan. {}``But what we lack in power we make up
in pride,'' he continued, laughing. {}``We believe ours the oldest
inhabited city upon Barsoom. It is one of the few that has retained
its freedom, and this despite the fact that its ancient diamond mines
are the richest known and, unlike practically all the other fields,
are today apparently as inexhaustible as ever.''

{}``Tell me of Gathol,'' urged the girl. {}``The very thought fills
me with interest,'' nor was it likely that the handsome face of the
young jed detracted anything from the glamour of far Gathol.

Nor did Gahan seem displeased with the excuse for further monopolizing
the society of his fair companion. His eyes seemed chained to her
exquisite features, from which they moved no further than to a rounded
breast, part hid beneath its jeweled covering, a naked shoulder or
the symmetry of a perfect arm, resplendent in bracelets of barbaric
magnificence.

{}``Your ancient history has doubtless told you that Gathol was built
upon an island in Throxeus, mightiest of the five oceans of old Barsoom.
As the ocean receded Gathol crept down the sides of the mountain,
the summit of which was the island upon which she had been built,
until today she covers the slopes from summit to base, while the bowels
of the great hill are honeycombed with the galleries of her mines.
Entirely surrounding us is a great salt marsh, which protects us from
invasion by land, while the rugged and ofttimes vertical topography
of our mountain renders the landing of hostile airships a precarious
undertaking.''

{}``That, and your brave warriors?''\ suggested the girl.

Gahan smiled. {}``We do not speak of that except to enemies,'' he
said, {}``and then with tongues of steel rather than of flesh.''

{}``But what practice in the art of war has a people which nature
has thus protected from attack?''\ asked Tara of Helium, who had
liked the young jed's answer to her previous question, but yet in
whose mind persisted a vague conviction of the possible effeminacy
of her companion, induced, doubtless, by the magnificence of his trappings
and weapons which carried a suggestion of splendid show rather than
grim utility.

{}``Our natural barriers, while they have doubtless saved us from
defeat on countless occasions, have not by any means rendered us immune
from attack,'' he explained, {}``for so great is the wealth of Gathol's
diamond treasury that there yet may be found those who will risk almost
certain defeat in an effort to loot our unconquered city; so thus
we find occasional practice in the exercise of arms; but there is
more to Gathol than the mountain city. My country extends from Polodona
(Equator) north ten karads and from the tenth karad west of Horz to
the twentieth west, including thus a million square haads, the greater
proportion of which is fine grazing land where run our great herds
of thoats and zitidars.

{}``Surrounded as we are by predatory enemies our herdsmen must indeed
be warriors or we should have no herds, and you may be assured they
get plenty of fighting. Then there is our constant need of workers
in the mines. The Gatholians consider themselves a race of warriors
and as such prefer not to labor in the mines. The law is, however,
that each male Gatholian shall give an hour a day in labor to the
government. That is practically the only tax that is levied upon them.
They prefer however, to furnish a substitute to perform this labor,
and as our own people will not hire out for labor in the mines it
has been necessary to obtain slaves, and I do not need to tell you
that slaves are not won without fighting. We sell these slaves in
the public market, the proceeds going, half and half, to the government
and the warriors who bring them in. The purchasers are credited with
the amount of labor performed by their particular slaves. At the end
of a year a good slave will have performed the labor tax of his master
for six years, and if slaves are plentiful he is freed and permitted
to return to his own people.''

{}``You fight in platinum and diamonds?''\ asked Tara, indicating
his gorgeous trappings with a quizzical smile.

Gahan laughed. {}``We are a vain people,'' he admitted, good-naturedly,
{}``and it is possible that we place too much value on personal appearances.
We vie with one another in the splendor of our accoutrements when
trapped for the observance of the lighter duties of life, though when
we take the field our leather is the plainest I ever have seen worn
by fighting men of Barsoom. We pride ourselves, too, upon our physical
beauty, and especially upon the beauty of our women. May I dare to
say, Tara of Helium, that I am hoping for the day when you will visit
Gathol that my people may see one who is really beautiful?''

{}``The women of Helium are taught to frown with displeasure upon
the tongue of the flatterer,'' rejoined the girl, but Gahan, Jed
of Gathol, observed that she smiled as she said it.

A bugle sounded, clear and sweet, above the laughter and the talk.
{}``The Dance of Barsoom!''\ exclaimed the young warrior. {}``I
claim you for it, Tara of Helium.''

The girl glanced in the direction of the bench where she had last
seen Djor Kantos. He was not in sight. She inclined her head in assent
to the claim of the Gatholian. Slaves were passing among the guests,
distributing small musical instruments of a single string. Upon each
instrument were characters which indicated the pitch and length of
its tone. The instruments were of skeel, the string of gut, and were
shaped to fit the left forearm of the dancer, to which it was strapped.
There was also a ring wound with gut which was worn between the first
and second joints of the index finger of the right hand and which,
when passed over the string of the instrument, elicited the single
note required of the dancer.

The guests had risen and were slowly making their way toward the expanse
of scarlet sward at the south end of the gardens where the dance was
to be held, when Djor Kantos came hurriedly toward Tara of Helium.
{}``I claim\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]'' he exclaimed as he neared
her; but she interrupted him with a gesture.

{}``You are too late, Djor Kantos,'' she cried in mock anger. {}``No
laggard may claim Tara of Helium; but haste now lest thou lose also
Olvia Marthis, whom I have never seen wait long to be claimed for
this or any other dance.''

{}``I have already lost her,'' admitted Djor Kantos ruefully.

{}``And you mean to say that you came for Tara of Helium only after
having lost Olvia Marthis?''\ demanded the girl, still simulating
displeasure.

{}``Oh, Tara of Helium, you know better than that,'' insisted the
young man. {}``Was it not natural that I should assume that you would
expect me, who alone has claimed you for the Dance of Barsoom for
at least twelve times past?''

{}``And sit and play with my thumbs until you saw fit to come for
me?''\ she questioned. {}``Ah, no, Djor Kantos; Tara of Helium
is for no laggard,'' and she threw him a sweet smile and passed on
toward the assembling dancers with Gahan, Jed of far Gathol.

The Dance of Barsoom bears a relation similar to the more formal dancing
functions of Mars that The Grand March does to ours, though it is
infinitely more intricate and more beautiful. Before a Martian youth
of either sex may attend an important social function where there
is dancing, he must have become proficient in at least three dances\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]The
Dance of Barsoom, his national dance, and the dance of his city. In
these three dances the dancers furnish their own music, which never
varies; nor do the steps or figures vary, having been handed down
from time immemorial. All Barsoomian dances are stately and beautiful,
but The Dance of Barsoom is a wondrous epic of motion and harmony\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]there
is no grotesque posturing, no vulgar or suggestive movements. It has
been described as the interpretation of the highest ideals of a world
that aspired to grace and beauty and chastity in woman, and strength
and dignity and loyalty in man.

Today, John Carter, Warlord of Mars, with Dejah Thoris, his mate,
led in the dancing, and if there was another couple that vied with
them in possession of the silent admiration of the guests it was the
resplendent Jed of Gathol and his beautiful partner. In the ever-changing
figures of the dance the man found himself now with the girl's hand
in his and again with an arm about the lithe body that the jeweled
harness but inadequately covered, and the girl, though she had danced
a thousand dances in the past, realized for the first time the personal
contact of a man's arm against her naked flesh. It troubled her that
she should notice it, and she looked up questioningly and almost with
displeasure at the man as though it was his fault. Their eyes met
and she saw in his that which she had never seen in the eyes of Djor
Kantos. It was at the very end of the dance and they both stopped
suddenly with the music and stood there looking straight into each
other's eyes. It was Gahan of Gathol who spoke first.

{}``Tara of Helium, I love you!''\ he said.

The girl drew herself to her full height. {}``The Jed of Gathol forgets
himself,'' she exclaimed haughtily.

{}``The Jed of Gathol would forget everything but you, Tara of Helium,''
he replied. Fiercely he pressed the soft hand that he still retained
from the last position of the dance. {}``I love you, Tara of Helium,''
he repeated. {}``Why should your ears refuse to hear what your eyes
but just now did not refuse to see\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and answer?''

{}``What meanest thou?''\ she cried. {}``Are the men of Gathol
such boors, then?''

{}``They are neither boors nor fools,'' he replied, quietly. {}``They
know when they love a woman\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and when she loves
them.''

Tara of Helium stamped her little foot in anger. {}``Go!''\ she
said, {}``before it is necessary to acquaint my father with the dishonor
of his guest.''

She turned and walked away. {}``Wait!''\ cried the man. {}``Just
another word.''

{}``Of apology?''\ she asked.

{}``Of prophecy,'' he said.

{}``I do not care to hear it,'' replied Tara of Helium, and left
him standing there. She was strangely unstrung and shortly thereafter
returned to her own quarter of the palace, where she stood for a long
time by a window looking out beyond the scarlet tower of Greater Helium
toward the northwest.

Presently she turned angrily away. {}``I hate him!''\ she exclaimed
aloud.

{}``Whom?''\ inquired the privileged Uthia.

Tara of Helium stamped her foot. {}``That ill-mannered boor, the
Jed of Gathol,'' she replied.

Uthia raised her slim brows.

At the stamping of the little foot, a great beast rose from the corner
of the room and crossed to Tara of Helium where it stood looking up
into her face. She placed her hand upon the ugly head. {}``Dear old
Woola,'' she said; {}``no love could be deeper than yours, yet it
never offends. Would that men might pattern themselves after you!''


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER II. AT THE GALE'S MERCY}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER II.\\
AT THE GALE'S MERCY}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{AT THE GALE'S MERCY}

\textit{\emph{Tara}} of Helium did not return to her father's guests,
but awaited in her own apartments the word from Djor Kantos which
she knew must come, begging her to return to the gardens. She would
then refuse, haughtily. But no appeal came from Djor Kantos. At first
Tara of Helium was angry, then she was hurt, and always she was puzzled.
She could not understand. Occasionally she thought of the Jed of Gathol
and then she would stamp her foot, for she was very angry indeed with
Gahan. The presumption of the man! He had insinuated that he read
love for him in her eyes. Never had she been so insulted and humiliated.
Never had she so thoroughly hated a man. Suddenly she turned toward
Uthia.

{}``My flying leather!''\ she commanded.

{}``But the guests!''\ exclaimed the slave girl. {}``Your father,
The Warlord, will expect you to return.''

{}``He will be disappointed,'' snapped Tara of Helium.

The slave hesitated. {}``He does not approve of your flying alone,''
she reminded her mistress.

The young princess sprang to her feet and seized the unhappy slave
by the shoulders, shaking her. {}``You are becoming unbearable, Uthia,''
she cried. {}``Soon there will be no alternative than to send you
to the public slave-market. Then possibly you will find a master to
your liking.''

Tears came to the soft eyes of the slave girl. {}``It is because
I love you, my princess,'' she said softly. Tara of Helium melted.
She took the slave in her arms and kissed her.

{}``I have the disposition of a thoat, Uthia,'' she said. {}``Forgive
me! I love you and there is nothing that I would not do for you and
nothing would I do to harm you. Again, as I have so often in the past,
I offer you your freedom.''

{}``I do not wish my freedom if it will separate me from you, Tara
of Helium,'' replied Uthia. {}``I am happy here with you\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]I
think that I should die without you.''

Again the girls kissed. {}``And you will not fly alone, then?''\ 
questioned the slave.

Tara of Helium laughed and pinched her companion. {}``You persistent
little pest,'' she cried. {}``Of course I shall fly\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]does
not Tara of Helium always do that which pleases her?''

Uthia shook her head sorrowfully. {}``Alas!\ she does,'' she admitted.
{}``Iron is the Warlord of Barsoom to the influences of all but two.
In the hands of Dejah Thoris and Tara of Helium he is as potters'
clay.''

{}``Then run and fetch my flying leather like the sweet slave you
are,'' directed the mistress.

Far out across the ochre sea-bottoms beyond the twin cities of Helium
raced the swift flier of Tara of Helium. Thrilling to the speed and
the buoyancy and the obedience of the little craft the girl drove
toward the northwest. Why she should choose that direction she did
not pause to consider. Perhaps because in that direction lay the least
known areas of Barsoom, and, ergo, Romance, Mystery, and Adventure.
In that direction also lay far Gathol; but to that fact she gave no
conscious thought.

She did, however, think occasionally of the jed of that distant kingdom,
but the reaction to these thoughts was scarcely pleasurable. They
still brought a flush of shame to her cheeks and a surge of angry
blood to her heart. She was very angry with the Jed of Gathol, and
though she should never see him again she was quite sure that hate
of him would remain fresh in her memory forever. Mostly her thoughts
revolved about another\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]Djor Kantos. And when
she thought of him she thought also of Olvia Marthis of Hastor. Tara
of Helium thought that she was jealous of the fair Olvia and it made
her very angry to think that. She was angry with Djor Kantos and herself,
but she was not angry at all with Olvia Marthis, whom she loved, and
so of course she was not jealous really. The trouble was, that Tara
of Helium had failed for once to have her own way. Djor Kantos had
not come running like a willing slave when she had expected him, and,
ah, here was the nub of the whole thing! Gahan, Jed of Gathol, a stranger,
had been a witness to her humiliation. He had seen her unclaimed at
the beginning of a great function and he had had to come to her rescue
to save her, as he doubtless thought, from the inglorious fate of
a wall-flower. At the recurring thought, Tara of Helium could feel
her whole body burning with scarlet shame and then she went suddenly
white and cold with rage; whereupon she turned her flier about so
abruptly that she was all but torn from her lashings upon the flat,
narrow deck. She reached home just before dark. The guests had departed.
Quiet had descended upon the palace. An hour later she joined her
father and mother at the evening meal.

{}``You deserted us, Tara of Helium,'' said John Carter. {}``It
is not what the guests of John Carter should expect.''

{}``They did not come to see me,'' replied Tara of Helium. {}``I
did not ask them.''

{}``They were no less your guests,'' replied her father.

The girl rose, and came and stood beside him and put her arms about
his neck.

{}``My proper old Virginian,'' she cried, rumpling his shock of
black hair.

{}``In Virginia you would be turned over your father's knee and spanked,''
said the man, smiling.

She crept into his lap and kissed him. {}``You do not love me any
more,'' she announced. {}``No one loves me,'' but she could not
compose her features into a pout because bubbling laughter insisted
upon breaking through.

{}``The trouble is there are too many who love you,'' he said. {}``And
now there is another.''

{}``Indeed!''\ she cried. {}``What do you mean?''

{}``Gahan of Gathol has asked permission to woo you.''

The girl sat up very straight and tilted her chin in the air. {}``I
would not wed with a walking diamond-mine,'' she said. {}``I will
not have him.''

{}``I told him as much,'' replied her father, {}``and that you
were as good as betrothed to another. He was very courteous about
it; but at the same time he gave me to understand that he was accustomed
to getting what he wanted and that he wanted you very much. I suppose
it will mean another war. Your mother's beauty kept Helium at war
for many years, and\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]well, Tara of Helium,
if I were a young man I should doubtless be willing to set all Barsoom
afire to win you, as I still would to keep your divine mother,''
and he smiled across the sorapus table and its golden service at the
undimmed beauty of Mars' most beautiful woman.

{}``Our little girl should not yet be troubled with such matters,''
said Dejah Thoris. {}``Remember, John Carter, that you are not dealing
with an Earth child, whose span of life would be more than half completed
before a daughter of Barsoom reached actual maturity.''

{}``But do not the daughters of Barsoom sometimes marry as early
as twenty?''\ he insisted.

{}``Yes, but they will still be desirable in the eyes of men after
forty generations of Earth folk have returned to dust\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]there
is no hurry, at least, upon Barsoom. We do not fade and decay here
as you tell me those of your planet do, though you, yourself, belie
your own words. When the time seems proper Tara of Helium shall wed
with Djor Kantos, and until then let us give the matter no further
thought.''

{}``No,'' said the girl, {}``the subject irks me, and I shall not
marry Djor Kantos, or another\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]I do not intend
to wed.''

Her father and mother looked at her and smiled. {}``When Gahan of
Gathol returns he may carry you off,'' said the former.

{}``He has gone?''\ asked the girl.

{}``His flier departs for Gathol in the morning,'' John Carter replied.

{}``I have seen the last of him then,'' remarked Tara of Helium
with a sigh of relief.

{}``He says not,'' returned John Carter.

The girl dismissed the subject with a shrug and the conversation passed
to other topics. A letter had arrived from Thuvia of Ptarth, who was
visiting at her father's court while Carthoris, her mate, hunted in
Okar. Word had been received that the Tharks and Warhoons were again
at war, or rather that there had been an engagement, for war was their
habitual state. In the memory of man there had been no peace between
these two savage green hordes\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]only a single
temporary truce. Two new battleships had been launched at Hastor.
A little band of holy therns was attempting to revive the ancient
and discredited religion of Issus, who they claimed still lived in
spirit and had communicated with them. There were rumors of war from
Dusar. A scientist claimed to have discovered human life on the further
moon. A madman had attempted to destroy the atmosphere plant. Seven
people had been assassinated in Greater Helium during the last ten
zodes, (the equivalent of an Earth day).

Following the meal Dejah Thoris and The Warlord played at jetan, the
Barsoomian game of chess, which is played upon a board of a hundred
alternate black and orange squares. One player has twenty black pieces,
the other, twenty orange pieces. A brief description of the game may
interest those Earth readers who care for chess, and will not be lost
upon those who pursue this narrative to its conclusion, since before
they are done they will find that a knowledge of jetan will add to
the interest and the thrills that are in store for them.

The men are placed upon the board as in chess upon the first two rows
next the players. In order from left to right on the line of squares
nearest the players, the jetan pieces are Warrior, Padwar, Dwar, Flier,
Chief, Princess, Flier, Dwar, Padwar, Warrior. In the next line all
are Panthans except the end pieces, which are called Thoats, and represent
mounted warriors.

The Panthans, which are represented as warriors with one feather,
may move one space in any direction except backward; the Thoats, mounted
warriors with three feathers, may move one straight and one diagonal,
and may jump intervening pieces; Warriors, foot soldiers with two
feathers, straight in any direction, or diagonally, two spaces; Padwars,
lieutenants wearing two feathers, two diagonal in any direction, or
combination; Dwars, captains wearing three feathers, three spaces
straight in any direction, or combination; Fliers, represented by
a propellor with three blades, three spaces in any direction, or combination,
diagonally, and may jump intervening pieces; the Chief, indicated
by a diadem with ten jewels, three spaces in any direction, straight,
or diagonal; Princess, diadem with a single jewel, same as Chief,
and can jump intervening pieces.

The game is won when a player places any of his pieces on the same
square with his opponent's Princess, or when a Chief takes a Chief.
It is drawn when a Chief is taken by any opposing piece other than
the opposing Chief; or when both sides have been reduced to three
pieces, or less, of equal value, and the game is not terminated in
the following ten moves, five apiece. This is but a general outline
of the game, briefly stated.

It was this game that Dejah Thoris and John Carter were playing when
Tara of Helium bid them good night, retiring to her own quarters and
her sleeping silks and furs. {}``Until morning, my beloved,'' she
called back to them as she passed from the apartment, nor little did
she guess, nor her parents, that this might indeed be the last time
that they would ever set eyes upon her.

The morning broke dull and gray. Ominous clouds billowed restlessly
and low. Beneath them torn fragments scudded toward the northwest.
From her window Tara of Helium looked out upon this unusual scene.
Dense clouds seldom overcast the Barsoomian sky. At this hour of the
day it was her custom to ride one of those small thoats that are the
saddle animals of the red Martians, but the sight of the billowing
clouds lured her to a new adventure. Uthia still slept and the girl
did not disturb her. Instead, she dressed quietly and went to the
hangar upon the roof of the palace directly above her quarters where
her own swift flier was housed. She had never driven through the clouds.
It was an adventure that always she had longed to experience. The
wind was strong and it was with difficulty that she maneuvered the
craft from the hangar without accident, but once away it raced swiftly
out above the twin cities. The buffeting winds caught and tossed it,
and the girl laughed aloud in sheer joy of the resultant thrills.
She handled the little ship like a veteran, though few veterans would
have faced the menace of such a storm in so light a craft. Swiftly
she rose toward the clouds, racing with the scudding streamers of
the storm-swept fragments, and a moment later she was swallowed by
the dense masses billowing above. Here was a new world, a world of
chaos unpeopled except for herself; but it was a cold, damp, lonely
world and she found it depressing after the novelty of it had been
dissipated, by an overpowering sense of the magnitude of the forces
surging about her. Suddenly she felt very lonely and very cold and
very little. Hurriedly, therefore, she rose until presently her craft
broke through into the glorious sunlight that transformed the upper
surface of the somber element into rolling masses of burnished silver.
Here it was still cold, but without the dampness of the clouds, and
in the eye of the brilliant sun her spirits rose with the mounting
needle of her altimeter. Gazing at the clouds, now far beneath, the
girl experienced the sensation of hanging stationary in mid-heaven;
but the whirring of her propellor, the wind beating upon her, the
high figures that rose and fell beneath the glass of her speedometer,
these told her that her speed was terrific. It was then that she determined
to turn back.

The first attempt she made above the clouds, but it was unsuccessful.
To her surprise she discovered that she could not even turn against
the high wind, which rocked and buffeted the frail craft. Then she
dropped swiftly to the dark and wind-swept zone between the hurtling
clouds and the gloomy surface of the shadowed ground. Here she tried
again to force the nose of the flier back toward Helium, but the tempest
seized the frail thing and hurled it remorselessly about, rolling
it over and over and tossing it as it were a cork in a cataract. At
last the girl succeeded in righting the flier, perilously close to
the ground. Never before had she been so close to death, yet she was
not terrified. Her coolness had saved her, that and the strength of
the deck lashings that held her. Traveling with the storm she was
safe, but where was it bearing her? She pictured the apprehension
of her father and mother when she failed to appear at the morning
meal. They would find her flier missing and they would guess that
somewhere in the path of the storm it lay a wrecked and tangled mass
upon her dead body, and then brave men would go out in search of her,
risking their lives; and that lives would be lost in the search, she
knew, for she realized now that never in her life-time had such a
tempest raged upon Barsoom.

She must turn back! She must reach Helium before her mad lust for
thrills had cost the sacrifice of a single courageous life! She determined
that greater safety and likelihood of success lay above the clouds,
and once again she rose through the chilling, wind-tossed vapor. Her
speed again was terrific, for the wind seemed to have increased rather
than to have lessened. She sought gradually to check the swift flight
of her craft, but though she finally succeeded in reversing her motor
the wind but carried her on as it would. Then it was that Tara of
Helium lost her temper. Had her world not always bowed in acquiescence
to her every wish? What were these elements that they dared to thwart
her? She would demonstrate to them that the daughter of The Warlord
was not to be denied! They would learn that Tara of Helium might not
be ruled even by the forces of nature!

And so she drove her motor forward again and then with her firm, white
teeth set in grim determination she drove the steering lever far down
to port with the intention of forcing the nose of her craft straight
into the teeth of the wind, and the wind seized the frail thing and
toppled it over upon its back, and twisted and turned it and hurled
it over and over; the propellor raced for an instant in an air pocket
and then the tempest seized it again and twisted it from its shaft,
leaving the girl helpless upon an unmanageable atom that rose and
fell, and rolled and tumbled\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the sport of
the elements she had defied. Tara of Helium's first sensation was
one of surprise\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]that she had failed to have
her own way. Then she commenced to feel concern\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]not
for her own safety but for the anxiety of her parents and the dangers
that the inevitable searchers must face. She reproached herself for
the thoughtless selfishness that had jeopardized the peace and safety
of others. She realized her own grave danger, too; but she was still
unterrified, as befitted the daughter of Dejah Thoris and John Carter.
She knew that her buoyancy tanks might keep her afloat indefinitely,
but she had neither food nor water, and she was being borne toward
the least-known area of Barsoom. Perhaps it would be better to land
immediately and await the coming of the searchers, rather than to
allow herself to be carried still further from Helium, thus greatly
reducing the chances of early discovery; but when she dropped toward
the ground she discovered that the violence of the wind rendered an
attempt to land tantamount to destruction and she rose again, rapidly.

Carried along a few hundred feet above the ground she was better able
to appreciate the Titanic proportions of the storm than when she had
flown in the comparative serenity of the zone above the clouds, for
now she could distinctly see the effect of the wind upon the surface
of Barsoom. The air was filled with dust and flying bits of vegetation
and when the storm carried her across an irrigated area of farm land
she saw great trees and stone walls and buildings lifted high in air
and scattered broadcast over the devastated country; and then she
was carried swiftly on to other sights that forced in upon her consciousness
a rapidly growing conviction that after all Tara of Helium was a very
small and insignificant and helpless person. It was quite a shock
to her self-pride while it lasted, and toward evening she was ready
to believe that it was going to last forever. There had been no abatement
in the ferocity of the tempest, nor was there indication of any. She
could only guess at the distance she had been carried for she could
not believe in the correctness of the high figures that had been piled
upon the record of her odometer. They seemed unbelievable and yet,
had she known it, they were quite true\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]in
twelve hours she had flown and been carried by the storm full seven
thousand haads. Just before dark she was carried over one of the deserted
cities of ancient Mars. It was Torquas, but she did not know it. Had
she, she might readily have been forgiven for abandoning the last
vestige of hope, for to the people of Helium Torquas seems as remote
as do the South Sea Islands to us. And still the tempest, its fury
unabated, bore her on.

All that night she hurtled through the dark beneath the clouds, or
rose to race through the moonlit void beneath the glory of Barsoom's
two satellites. She was cold and hungry and altogether miserable,
but her brave little spirit refused to admit that her plight was hopeless
even though reason proclaimed the truth. Her reply to reason, sometime
spoken aloud in sudden defiance, recalled the Spartan stubbornness
of her sire in the face of certain annihilation: {}``I still live!''

That morning there had been an early visitor at the palace of The
Warlord. It was Gahan, Jed of Gathol. He had arrived shortly after
the absence of Tara of Helium had been noted, and in the excitement
he had remained unannounced until John Carter had happened upon him
in the great reception corridor of the palace as The Warlord was hurrying
out to arrange for the dispatch of ships in search of his daughter.

Gahan read the concern upon the face of The Warlord. {}``Forgive
me if I intrude, John Carter,'' he said. {}``I but came to ask the
indulgence of another day since it would be fool-hardy to attempt
to navigate a ship in such a storm.''

{}``Remain, Gahan, a welcome guest until you choose to leave us,''
replied The Warlord; {}``but you must forgive any seeming inattention
upon the part of Helium until my daughter is restored to us.''

{}``You daughter! Restored! What do you mean?''\ exclaimed the
Gatholian. {}``I do not understand.''

{}``She is gone, together with her light flier. That is all we know.
We can only assume that she decided to fly before the morning meal
and was caught in the clutches of the tempest. You will pardon me,
Gahan, if I leave you abruptly\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]I am arranging
to send ships in search of her;'' but Gahan, Jed of Gathol, was already
speeding in the direction of the palace gate. There he leaped upon
a waiting thoat and followed by two warriors in the metal of Gathol,
he dashed through the avenues of Helium toward the palace that had
been set aside for his entertainment.


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER III. THE HEADLESS HUMANS}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER III.\\
THE HEADLESS HUMANS}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{THE HEADLESS HUMANS}

\textit{\emph{Above}} the roof of the palace that housed the Jed of
Gathol and his entourage, the cruiser \emph{Vanator} tore at her stout
moorings. The groaning tackle bespoke the mad fury of the gale, while
the worried faces of those members of the crew whose duties demanded
their presence on the straining craft gave corroborative evidence
of the gravity of the situation. Only stout lashings prevented these
men from being swept from the deck, while those upon the roof below
were constantly compelled to cling to rails and stanchions to save
themselves from being carried away by each new burst of meteoric fury.
Upon the prow of the \emph{Vanator} was painted the device of Gathol,
but no pennants were displayed in the upper works since the storm
had carried away several in rapid succession, just as it seemed to
the watching men that it must carry away the ship itself. They could
not believe that any tackle could withstand for long this Titanic
force. To each of the twelve lashings clung a brawny warrior with
drawn short-sword. Had but a single mooring given to the power of
the tempest eleven short-swords would have cut the others; since,
partially moored, the ship was doomed, while free in the tempest it
stood at least some slight chance for life.

{}``By the blood of Issus, I believe they will hold!''\ screamed
one warrior to another.

{}``And if they do not hold may the spirits of our ancestors reward
the brave warriors upon the \emph{Vanator},'' replied another of
those upon the roof of the palace, {}``for it will not be long from
the moment her cables part before her crew dons the leather of the
dead; but yet, Tanus, I believe they will hold. Give thanks at least
that we did not sail before the tempest fell, since now each of us
has a chance to live.''

{}``Yes,'' replied Tanus, {}``I should hate to be abroad today
upon the stoutest ship that sails the Barsoomian sky.''

It was then that Gahan the Jed appeared upon the roof. With him were
the balance of his own party and a dozen warriors of Helium. The young
chief turned to his followers.

{}``I sail at once upon the \emph{Vanator},'' he said, {}``in search
of Tara of Helium who is thought to have been carried away upon a
one-man flier by the storm. I do not need to explain to you the slender
chances the \emph{Vanator} has to withstand the fury of the tempest,
nor will I order you to your deaths. Let those who wish remain behind
without dishonor. The others will follow me,'' and he leaped for
the rope ladder that lashed wildly in the gale.

The first man to follow him was Tanus and when the last reached the
deck of the cruiser there remained upon the palace roof only the twelve
warriors of Helium, who, with naked swords, had taken the posts of
the Gatholians at the moorings.

Not a single warrior who had remained aboard the \emph{Vanator} would
leave her now.

{}``I expected no less,'' said Gahan, as with the help of those
already on the deck he and the others found secure lashings. The commander
of the \emph{Vanator} shook his head. He loved his trim craft, the
pride of her class in the little navy of Gathol. It was of her he
thought\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]not of himself. He saw her lying torn
and twisted upon the ochre vegetation of some distant sea-bottom,
to be presently overrun and looted by some savage, green horde. He
looked at Gahan.

{}``Are you ready, San Tothis?''\ asked the jed.

{}``All is ready.''

{}``Then cut away!''

Word was passed across the deck and over the side to the Heliumetic
warriors below that at the third gun they were to cut away. Twelve
keen swords must strike simultaneously and with equal power, and each
must sever completely and instantly three strands of heavy cable that
no loose end fouling a block bring immediate disaster upon the \emph{Vanator}.

Boom! The voice of the signal gun rolled down through the screaming
wind to the twelve warriors upon the roof. Boom! Twelve swords were
raised above twelve brawny shoulders. Boom! Twelve keen edges severed
twelve complaining moorings, clean and as one.

The \emph{Vanator}, her propellors whirling, shot forward with the
storm. The tempest struck her in the stern as with a mailed fist and
stood the great ship upon her nose, and then it caught her and spun
her as a child's top spins; and upon the palace roof the twelve men
looked on in silent helplessness and prayed for the souls of the brave
warriors who were going to their death. And others saw, from Helium's
lofty landing stages and from a thousand hangars upon a thousand roofs;
but only for an instant did the preparations stop that would send
other brave men into the frightful maelstrom of that apparently hopeless
search, for such is the courage of the warriors of Barsoom.

But the \emph{Vanator} did not fall to the ground, within sight of
the city at least, though as long as the watchers could see her never
for an instant did she rest upon an even keel. Sometimes she lay upon
one side or the other, or again she hurtled along keel up, or rolled
over and over, or stood upon her nose or her tail at the caprice of
the great force that carried her along. And the watchers saw that
this great ship was merely being blown away with the other bits of
debris great and small that filled the sky. Never in the memory of
man or the annals of recorded history had such a storm raged across
the face of Barsoom.

And in another instant was the \emph{Vanator} forgotten as the lofty,
scarlet tower that had marked Lesser Helium for ages crashed to ground,
carrying death and demolition upon the city beneath. Panic reigned.
A fire broke out in the ruins. The city's every force seemed crippled,
and it was then that The Warlord ordered the men that were about to
set forth in search of Tara of Helium to devote their energies to
the salvation of the city, for he too had witnessed the start of the
\emph{Vanator} and realized the futility of wasting men who were needed
sorely if Lesser Helium was to be saved from utter destruction.

Shortly after noon of the second day the storm commenced to abate,
and before the sun went down, the little craft upon which Tara of
Helium had hovered between life and death these many hours drifted
slowly before a gentle breeze above a landscape of rolling hills that
once had been lofty mountains upon a Martian continent. The girl was
exhausted from loss of sleep, from lack of food and drink, and from
the nervous reaction consequent to the terrifying experiences through
which she had passed. In the near distance, just topping an intervening
hill, she caught a momentary glimpse of what appeared to be a dome-capped
tower. Quickly she dropped the flier until the hill shut it off from
the view of the possible occupants of the structure she had seen.
The tower meant to her the habitation of man, suggesting the presence
of water and, perhaps, of food. If the tower was the deserted relic
of a bygone age she would scarcely find food there, but there was
still a chance that there might be water. If it was inhabited, then
must her approach be cautious, for only enemies might be expected
to abide in so far distant a land. Tara of Helium knew that she must
be far from the twin cities of her grandfather's empire, but had she
guessed within even a thousand haads of the reality, she had been
stunned by realization of the utter hopelessness of her state.

Keeping the craft low, for the buoyancy tanks were still intact, the
girl skimmed the ground until the gently-moving wind had carried her
to the side of the last hill that intervened between her and the structure
she had thought a man-built tower. Here she brought the flier to the
ground among some stunted trees, and dragging it beneath one where
it might be somewhat hidden from craft passing above, she made it
fast and set forth to reconnoiter. Like most women of her class she
was armed only with a single slender blade, so that in such an emergency
as now confronted her she must depend almost solely upon her cleverness
in remaining undiscovered by enemies. With utmost caution she crept
warily toward the crest of the hill, taking advantage of every natural
screen that the landscape afforded to conceal her approach from possible
observers ahead, while momentarily she cast quick glances rearward
lest she be taken by surprise from that quarter.

She came at last to the summit, where, from the concealment of a low
bush, she could see what lay beyond. Beneath her spread a beautiful
valley surrounded by low hills. Dotting it were numerous circular
towers, dome-capped, and surrounding each tower was a stone wall enclosing
several acres of ground. The valley appeared to be in a high state
of cultivation. Upon the opposite side of the hill and just beneath
her was a tower and enclosure. It was the roof of the former that
had first attracted her attention. In all respects it seemed identical
in construction with those further out in the valley\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
high, plastered wall of massive construction surrounding a similarly
constructed tower, upon whose gray surface was painted in vivid colors
a strange device. The towers were about forty sofads in diameter,
approximately forty earth-feet, and sixty in height to the base of
the dome. To an Earth man they would have immediately suggested the
silos in which dairy farmers store ensilage for their herds; but closer
scrutiny, revealing an occasional embrasured opening together with
the strange construction of the domes, would have altered such a conclusion.
Tara of Helium saw that the domes seemed to be faced with innumerable
prisms of glass, those that were exposed to the declining sun scintillating
so gorgeously as to remind her suddenly of the magnificent trappings
of Gahan of Gathol. As she thought of the man she shook her head angrily,
and moved cautiously forward a foot or two that she might get a less
obstructed view of the nearer tower and its enclosure.

As Tara of Helium looked down into the enclosure surrounding the nearest
tower, her brows contracted momentarily in frowning surprise, and
then her eyes went wide in an expression of incredulity tinged with
horror, for what she saw was a score or two of human bodies\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]naked
and headless. For a long moment she watched, breathless; unable to
believe the evidence of her own eyes\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]that
these grewsome things moved and had life! She saw them crawling about
on hands and knees over and across one another, searching about with
their fingers. And she saw some of them at troughs, for which the
others seemed to be searching, and those at the troughs were taking
something from these receptacles and apparently putting it in a hole
where their necks should have been. They were not far beneath her\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]she
could see them distinctly and she saw that there were the bodies of
both men and women, and that they were beautifully proportioned, and
that their skin was similar to hers, but of a slightly lighter red.
At first she had thought that she was looking upon a shambles and
that the bodies, but recently decapitated, were moving under the impulse
of muscular reaction; but presently she realized that this was their
normal condition. The horror of them fascinated her, so that she could
scarce take her eyes from them. It was evident from their groping
hands that they were eyeless, and their sluggish movements suggested
a rudimentary nervous system and a correspondingly minute brain. The
girl wondered how they subsisted for she could not, even by the wildest
stretch of imagination, picture these imperfect creatures as intelligent
tillers of the soil. Yet that the soil of the valley was tilled was
evident and that these things had food was equally so. But who tilled
the soil? Who kept and fed these unhappy things, and for what purpose?
It was an enigma beyond her powers of deduction.

The sight of food aroused again a consciousness of her own gnawing
hunger and the thirst that parched her throat. She could see both
food and water within the enclosure; but would she dare enter even
should she find means of ingress? She doubted it, since the very thought
of possible contact with these grewsome creatures sent a shudder through
her frame.

Then her eyes wandered again out across the valley until presently
they picked out what appeared to be a tiny stream winding its way
through the center of the farm lands\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a strange
sight upon Barsoom. Ah, if it were but water! Then might she hope
with a real hope, for the fields would give her sustenance which she
could gain by night, while by day she hid among the surrounding hills,
and sometime, yes, sometime she knew, the searchers would come, for
John Carter, Warlord of Barsoom, would never cease to search for his
daughter until every square haad of the planet had been combed again
and again. She knew him and she knew the warriors of Helium and so
she knew that could she but manage to escape harm until they came,
they would indeed come at last.

She would have to wait until dark before she dare venture into the
valley, and in the meantime she thought it well to search out a place
of safety nearby where she might be reasonably safe from savage beasts.
It was possible that the district was free from \emph{carnivora},
but one might never be sure in a strange land. As she was about to
withdraw behind the brow of the hill her attention was again attracted
to the enclosure below. Two figures had emerged from the tower. Their
beautiful bodies seemed identical with those of the headless creatures
among which they moved, but the newcomers were not headless. Upon
their shoulders were heads that seemed human, yet which the girl intuitively
sensed were not human. They were just a trifle too far away for her
to see them distinctly in the waning light of the dying day, but she
knew that they were too large, they were out of proportion to the
perfectly proportioned bodies, and they were oblate in form. She could
see that the men wore some manner of harness to which were slung the
customary long-sword and short-sword of the Barsoomian warrior, and
that about their short necks were massive leather collars cut to fit
closely over the shoulders and snugly to the lower part of the head.
Their features were scarce discernible, but there was a suggestion
of grotesqueness about them that carried to her a feeling of revulsion.

The two carried a long rope to which were fastened, at intervals of
about two sofads, what she later guessed were light manacles, for
she saw the warriors passing among the poor creatures in the enclosure
and about the right wrist of each they fastened one of the manacles.
When all had been thus fastened to the rope one of the warriors commenced
to pull and tug at the loose end as though attempting to drag the
headless company toward the tower, while the other went among them
with a long, light whip with which he flicked them upon the naked
skin. Slowly, dully, the creatures rose to their feet and between
the tugging of the warrior in front and the lashing of him behind
the hopeless band was finally herded within the tower. Tara of Helium
shuddered as she turned away. What manner of creatures were these?

Suddenly it was night. The Barsoomian day had ended, and then the
brief period of twilight that renders the transition from daylight
to darkness almost as abrupt as the switching off of an electric light,
and Tara of Helium had found no sanctuary. But perhaps there were
no beasts to fear, or rather to avoid\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]Tara
of Helium liked not the word fear. She would have been glad, however,
had there been a cabin, even a very tiny cabin, upon her small flier;
but there was no cabin. The interior of the hull was completely taken
up by the buoyancy tanks. Ah, she had it! How stupid of her not to
have thought of it before! She could moor the craft to the tree beneath
which it rested and let it rise the length of the rope. Lashed to
the deck rings she would then be safe from any roaming beast of prey
that chanced along. In the morning she could drop to the ground again
before the craft was discovered.

As Tara of Helium crept over the brow of the hill down toward the
valley, her presence was hidden by the darkness of the night from
the sight of any chance observer who might be loitering by a window
in the nearby tower. Cluros, the farther moon, was just rising above
the horizon to commence his leisurely journey through the heavens.
Eight zodes later he would set\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a trifle over
nineteen and a half Earth hours\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and during
that time Thuria, his vivacious mate, would have circled the planet
twice and be more than half way around on her third trip. She had
but just set. It would be more than three and a half hours before
she shot above the opposite horizon to hurtle, swift and low, across
the face of the dying planet. During this temporary absence of the
mad moon Tara of Helium hoped to find both food and water, and gain
again the safety of her flier's deck.

She groped her way through the darkness, giving the tower and its
enclosure as wide a berth as possible. Sometimes she stumbled, for
in the long shadows cast by the rising Cluros objects were grotesquely
distorted though the light from the moon was still not sufficient
to be of much assistance to her. Nor, as a matter of fact, did she
want light. She could find the stream in the dark, by the simple expedient
of going down hill until she walked into it and she had seen that
bearing trees and many crops grew throughout the valley, so that she
would pass food in plenty ere she reached the stream. If the moon
showed her the way more clearly and thus saved her from an occasional
fall, he would, too, show her more clearly to the strange denizens
of the towers, and that, of course, must not be. Could she have waited
until the following night conditions would have been better, since
Cluros would not appear in the heavens at all and so, during Thuria's
absence, utter darkness would reign; but the pangs of thirst and the
gnawing of hunger could be endured no longer with food and drink both
in sight, and so she had decided to risk discovery rather than suffer
longer.

Safely past the nearest tower, she moved as rapidly as she felt consistent
with safety, choosing her way wherever possible so that she might
take advantage of the shadows of the trees that grew at intervals
and at the same time discover those which bore fruit. In this latter
she met with almost immediate success, for the very third tree beneath
which she halted was heavy with ripe fruit. Never, thought Tara of
Helium, had aught so delicious impinged upon her palate, and yet it
was naught else than the almost tasteless usa, which is considered
to be palatable only after having been cooked and highly spiced. It
grows easily with little irrigation and the trees bear abundantly.
The fruit, which ranks high in food value, is one of the staple foods
of the less well-to-do, and because of its cheapness and nutritive
value forms one of the principal rations of both armies and navies
upon Barsoom, a use which has won for it a Martian sobriquet which,
freely translated into English, would be, The Fighting Potato. The
girl was wise enough to eat but sparingly, but she filled her pocket-pouch
with the fruit before she continued upon her way.

Two towers she passed before she came at last to the stream, and here
again was she temperate, drinking but little and that very slowly,
contenting herself with rinsing her mouth frequently and bathing her
face, her hands, and her feet; and even though the night was cold,
as Martian nights are, the sensation of refreshment more than compensated
for the physical discomfort of the low temperature. Replacing her
sandals she sought among the growing track near the stream for whatever
edible berries or tubers might be planted there, and found a couple
of varieties that could be eaten raw. With these she replaced some
of the usa in her pocket-pouch, not only to insure a variety but because
she found them more palatable. Occasionally she returned to the stream
to drink, but each time moderately. Always were her eyes and ears
alert for the first signs of danger, but she had neither seen nor
heard aught to disturb her. And presently the time approached when
she felt she must return to her flier lest she be caught in the revealing
light of low swinging Thuria. She dreaded leaving the water for she
knew that she must become very thirsty before she could hope to come
again to the stream. If she only had some little receptacle in which
to carry water, even a small amount would tide her over until the
following night; but she had nothing and so she must content herself
as best she could with the juices of the fruit and tubers she had
gathered.

After a last drink at the stream, the longest and deepest she had
allowed herself, she rose to retrace her steps toward the hills; but
even as she did so she became suddenly tense with apprehension. What
was that? She could have sworn that she saw something move in the
shadows beneath a tree not far away. For a long minute the girl did
not move\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]she scarce breathed. Her eyes remained
fixed upon the dense shadows below the tree, her ears strained through
the silence of the night. A low moaning came down from the hills where
her flier was hidden. She knew it well\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the
weird note of the hunting banth. And the great carnivore lay directly
in her path. But he was not so close as this other thing, hiding there
in the shadows just a little way off. What was it? It was the strain
of uncertainty that weighed heaviest upon her. Had she known the nature
of the creature lurking there half its meanace would have vanished.
She cast quickly about her in search of some haven of refuge should
the thing prove dangerous.

Again arose the moaning from the hills, but this time closer. Almost
immediately it was answered from the opposite side of the valley,
behind her, and then from the distance to the right of her, and twice
upon her left. Her eyes had found a tree, quite near. Slowly, and
without taking her eyes from the shadows of that other tree, she moved
toward the overhanging branches that might afford her sanctuary in
the event of need, and at her first move a low growl rose from the
spot she had been watching and she heard the sudden moving of a big
body. Simultaneously the creature shot into the moonlight in full
charge upon her, its tail erect, its tiny ears laid flat, its great
mouth with its multiple rows of sharp and powerful fangs already yawning
for its prey, its ten legs carrying it forward in great leaps, and
now from the beast's throat issued the frightful roar with which it
seeks to paralyze its prey. It was a banth\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the
great, maned lion of Barsoom. Tara of Helium saw it coming and leaped
for the tree toward which she had been moving, and the banth realized
her intention and redoubled his speed. As his hideous roar awakened
the echoes in the hills, so too it awakened echoes in the valley;
but these echoes came from the living throats of others of his kind,
until it seemed to the girl that Fate had thrown her into the midst
of a countless multitude of these savage beasts.

Almost incredbily swift is the speed of a charging banth, and fortunate
it was that the girl had not been caught farther in the open. As it
was, her margin of safety was next to negligible, for as she swung
nimbly to the lower branches the creature in pursuit of her crashed
among the foliage almost upon her as it sprang upward to seize her.
It was only a combination of good fortune and agility that saved her.
A stout branch deflected the raking talons of the carnivore, but so
close was the call that a giant forearm brushed her flesh in the instant
before she scrambled to the higher branches.

Baffled, the banth gave vent to his rage and disappointment in a series
of frightful roars that caused the very ground to tremble, and to
these were added the roarings and the growlings and the moanings of
his fellows as they approached from every direction, in the hope of
wresting from him whatever of his kill they could take by craft or
prowess. And now he turned snarling upon them as they circled the
tree, while the girl, huddled in a crotch above them, looked down
upon the gaunt, yellow monsters padding on noiseless feet in a restless
circle about her. She wondered now at the strange freak of fate that
had permitted her to come down this far into the valley by night unharmed,
but even more she wondered how she was to return to the hills. She
knew that she would not dare venture it by night and she guessed,
too, that by day she might be confronted by even graver perils. To
depend upon this valley for sustenance she now saw to be beyond the
pale of possibility because of the banths that would keep her from
food and water by night, while the dwellers in the towers would doubtless
make it equally impossible for her to forage by day. There was but
one solution of her difficulty and that was to return to her flier
and pray that the wind would waft her to some less terrorful land;
but when might she return to the flier? The banths gave little evidence
of relinquishing hope of her, and even if they wandered out of sight
would she dare risk the attempt? She doubted it.

Hopeless indeed seemed her situation\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]hopeless
it was.


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER IV. CAPTURED}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER IV.\\
CAPTURED}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{CAPTURED}

\textit{\emph{As}} \textit{\emph{Thuria}}, swift racer of the night,
shot again into the sky the scene changed. As by magic a new aspect
fell athwart the face of Nature. It was as though in the instant one
had been transported from one planet to another. It was the age-old
miracle of the Martian nights that is always new, even to Martians\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]two
moons resplendent in the heavens, where one had been but now; conflicting,
fast-changing shadows that altered the very hills themselves; far
Cluros, stately, majestic, almost stationary, shedding his steady
light upon the world below; Thuria, a great and glorious orb, swinging
swift across the vaulted dome of the blue-black night, so low that
she seemed to graze the hills, a gorgeous spectacle that held the
girl now beneath the spell of its enchantment as it always had and
always would.

{}``Ah, Thuria, mad queen of heaven!''\ murmured Tara of Helium.
{}``The hills pass in stately procession, their bosoms rising and
falling; the trees move in restless circles; the little grasses describe
their little arcs; and all is movement, restless, mysterious movement
without sound, while Thuria passes.'' The girl sighed and let her
gaze fall again to the stern realities beneath. There was no mystery
in the huge banths. He who had discovered her squatted there looking
hungrily up at her. Most of the others had wandered away in search
of other prey, but a few remained hoping yet to bury their fangs in
that soft body.

The night wore on. Again Thuria left the heavens to her lord and master,
hurrying on to keep her tryst with the Sun in other skies. But a single
banth waited impatiently beneath the tree which harbored Tara of Helium.
The others had left, but their roars, and growls, and moans thundered
or rumbled, or floated back to her from near and far. What prey found
they in this little valley? There must be something that they were
accustomed to find here that they should be drawn in so great numbers.
The girl wondered what it could be.

How long the night! Numb, cold, and exhausted, Tara of Helium clung
to the tree in growing desperation, for once she had dozed and almost
fallen. Hope was low in her brave little heart. How much more could
she endure? She asked herself the question and then, with a brave
shake of her head, she squared her shoulders. {}``I still live!''\ 
she said aloud.

The banth looked up and growled.

Came Thuria again and after awhile the great Sun\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
flaming lover, pursuing his heart's desire. And Cluros, the cold husband,
continued his serene way, as placid as before his house had been violated
by this hot Lothario. And now the Sun and both Moons rode together
in the sky, lending their far mysteries to make weird the Martian
dawn. Tara of Helium looked out across the fair valley that spread
upon all sides of her. It was rich and beautiful, but even as she
looked upon it she shuddered, for to her mind came a picture of the
headless things that the towers and the walls hid. Those by day and
the banths by night! Ah, was it any wonder that she shuddered?

With the coming of the Sun the great Barsoomian lion rose to his feet.
He turned angry eyes upon the girl above him, voiced a single ominous
growl, and slunk away toward the hills. The girl watched him, and
she saw that he gave the towers as wide a berth as possible and that
he never took his eyes from one of them while he was passing it. Evidently
the inmates had taught these savage creatures to respect them. Presently
he passed from sight in a narrow defile, nor in any direction that
she could see was there another. Momentarily at least the landscape
was deserted. The girl wondered if she dared to attempt to regain
the hills and her flier. She dreaded the coming of the workmen to
the fields as she was sure they would come. She shrank from again
seeing the headless bodies, and found herself wondering if these things
would come out into the fields and work. She looked toward the nearest
tower. There was no sign of life there. The valley lay quiet now and
deserted. She lowered herself stiffly to the ground. Her muscles were
cramped and every move brought a twinge of pain. Pausing a moment
to drink again at the stream she felt refreshed and then turned without
more delay toward the hills. To cover the distance as quickly as possible
seemed the only plan to pursue. The trees no longer offered concealment
and so she did not go out of her way to be near them. The hills seemed
very far away. She had not thought, the night before, that she had
traveled so far. Really it had not been far, but now, with the three
towers to pass in broad daylight, the distance seemed great indeed.

The second tower lay almost directly in her path. To make a detour
would not lessen the chance of detection, it would only lengthen the
period of her danger, and so she laid her course straight for the
hill where her flier was, regardless of the tower. As she passed the
first enclosure she thought that she heard the sound of movement within,
but the gate did not open and she breathed more easily when it lay
behind her. She came then to the second enclosure, the outer wall
of which she must circle, as it lay across her route. As she passed
close along it she distinctly heard not only movement within, but
voices. In the world-language of Barsoom she heard a man issuing instructions\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]so
many were to pick usa, so many were to irrigate this field, so many
to cultivate that, and so on, as a foreman lay out the day's work
for his crew.

Tara of Helium had just reached the gate in the outer wall. Without
warning it swung open toward her. She saw that for a moment it would
hide her from those within and in that moment she turned and ran,
keeping close to the wall, until, passing out of sight beyond the
curve of the structure, she came to the opposite side of the enclosure.
Here, panting from her exertion and from the excitement of her narrow
escape, she threw herself among some tall weeds that grew close to
the foot of the wall. There she lay trembling for some time, not even
daring to raise her head and look about. Never before had Tara of
Helium felt the paralyzing effects of terror. She was shocked and
angry at herself, that she, daughter of John Carter, Warlord of Barsoom,
should exhibit fear. Not even the fact that there had been none there
to witness it lessened her shame and anger, and the worst of it was
she knew that under similar circumstances she would again be equally
as craven. It was not the fear of death\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]she
knew that. No, it was the thought of those headless bodies and that
she might see them and that they might even touch her\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]lay
hands upon her\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]seize her. She shuddered and
trembled at the thought.

After a while she gained sufficient command of herself to raise her
head and look about. To her horror she discovered that everywhere
she looked she saw people working in the fields or preparing to do
so. Workmen were coming from other towers. Little bands were passing
to this field and that. They were even some already at work within
thirty ads of her\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]about a hundred yards. There
were ten, perhaps, in the party nearest her, both men and women, and
all were beautiful of form and grotesque of face. So meager were their
trappings that they were practically naked; a fact that was in no
way remarkable among the tillers of the fields of Mars. Each wore
the peculiar, high leather collar that completely hid the neck, and
each wore sufficient other leather to support a single sword and a
pocket-pouch. The leather was very old and worn, showing long, hard
service, and was absolutely plain with the exception of a single device
upon the left shoulder. The heads, however, were covered with ornaments
of precious metals and jewels, so that little more than eyes, nose,
and mouth were discernible. These were hideously inhuman and yet grotesquely
human at the same time. The eyes were far apart and protruding, the
nose scarce more than two small, parallel slits set vertically above
a round hole that was the mouth. The heads were peculiarly repulsive\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]so
much so that it seemed unbelievable to the girl that they formed an
integral part of the beautiful bodies below them.

So fascinated was Tara of Helium that she could scarce take her eyes
from the strange creatures\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a fact that was
to prove her undoing, for in order that she might see them she was
forced to expose a part of her own head and presently, to her consternation,
she saw that one of the creatures had stopped his work and was staring
directly at her. She did not dare move, for it was still possible
that the thing had not seen her, or at least was only suspicious that
some creature lay hid among the weeds. If she could allay this suspicion
by remaining motionless the creature might believe that he had been
mistaken and return to his work; but, alas, such was not to be the
case. She saw the thing call the attention of others to her and almost
immediately four or five of them started to move in her direction.

It was impossible now to escape discovery. Her only hope lay in flight.
If she could elude them and reach the hills and the flier ahead of
them she might escape, and that could be accomplished in but one way\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]flight,
immediate and swift. Leaping to her feet she darted along the base
of the wall which she must skirt to the opposite side, beyond which
lay the hill that was her goal. Her act was greeted by strange whistling
sounds from the things behind her, and casting a glance over her shoulder
she saw them all in rapid pursuit.

There were also shrill commands that she halt, but to these she paid
no attention. Before she had half circled the enclosure she discovered
that her chances for successful escape were great, since it was evident
to her that her pursuers were not so fleet as she. High indeed then
were her hopes as she came in sight of the hill, but they were soon
dashed by what lay before her, for there, in the fields that lay between,
were fully a hundred creatures similar to those behind her and all
were on the alert, evidently warned by the whistling of their fellows.
Instructions and commands were shouted to and fro, with the result
that those before her spread roughly into a great half circle to intercept
her, and when she turned to the right, hoping to elude the net, she
saw others coming from fields beyond, and to the left the same was
true. But Tara of Helium would not admit defeat. Without once pausing
she turned directly toward the center of the advancing semi-circle,
beyond which lay her single chance of escape, and as she ran she drew
her long, slim dagger. Like her valiant sire, if die she must, she
would die fighting. There were gaps in the thin line confronting her
and toward the widest of one of these she directed her course. The
things on either side of the opening guessed her intent for they closed
in to place themselves in her path. This widened the openings on either
side of them and as the girl appeared almost to rush into their arms
she turned suddenly at right angles, ran swiftly in the new direction
for a few yards, and then dashed quickly toward the hill again. Now
only a single warrior, with a wide gap on either side of him, barred
her clear way to freedom, though all the others were speeding as rapidly
as they could to intercept her. If she could pass this one without
too much delay she could escape, of that she was certain. Her every
hope hinged on this. The creature before her realized it, too, for
he moved cautiously, though swiftly, to intercept her, as a Rugby
fullback might maneuver in the realization that he alone stood between
the opposing team and a touchdown.

At first Tara of Helium had hoped that she might dodge him, for she
could not but guess that she was not only more fleet but infinitely
more agile than these strange creatures; but soon there came to her
the realization that in the time consumed in an attempt to elude his
grasp his nearer fellows would be upon her and escape then impossible,
so she chose instead to charge straight for him, and when he guessed
her decision he stood, half crouching and with outstretched arms,
awaiting her. In one hand was his sword, but a voice arose, crying
in tones of authority. {}``Take her alive! Do not harm her!''\ Instantly
the fellow returned his sword to its scabbard and then Tara of Helium
was upon him. Straight for that beautiful body she sprang and in the
instant that the arms closed to seize her her sharp blade drove deep
into the naked chest. The impact hurled them both to the ground and
as Tara of Helium sprang to her feet again she saw, to her horror,
that the loathsome head had rolled from the body and was now crawling
away from her on six short, spider-{]}ike legs. The body struggled
spasmodically and lay still. As brief as had been the delay caused
by the encounter, it still had been of sufficient duration to undo
her, for even as she rose two more of the things fell upon her and
instantly thereafter she was surrounded. Her blade sank once more
into naked flesh and once more a head rolled free and crawled away.
Then they overpowered her and in another moment she was surrounded
by fully a hundred of the creatures, all seeking to lay hands upon
her. At first she thought that they wished to tear her to pieces in
revenge for her having slain two of their fellows, but presently she
realized that they were prompted more by curiosity than by any sinister
motive.

{}``Come!''\ said one of her captors, both of whom had retained
a hold upon her. As he spoke he tried to lead her away with him toward
the nearest tower.

{}``She belongs to me,'' cried the other. {}``Did not I capture
her? She will come with me to the tower of Moak.''

{}``Never!''\ insisted the first. {}``She is Luud's. To Luud I
will take her, and whosoever interferes may feel the keenness of my
sword\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]in the head!''\ He almost shouted
the last three words.

{}``Come! Enough of this,'' cried one who spoke with some show of
authority. {}``She was captured in Luud's fields\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]she
will go to Luud.''

{}``She was discovered in Moak's fields, at the very foot of the
tower of Moak,'' insisted he who had claimed her for Moak.

{}``You have heard the Nolach speak,'' cried the Luud. {}``It shall
be as he says.''

{}``Not while this Moak holds a sword,'' replied the other. {}``Rather
will I cut her in twain and take my half to Moak than to relinquish
her all to Luud,'' and he drew his sword, or rather he laid his hand
upon its hilt in a threatening gesture; but before ever he could draw
it the Luud had whipped his out and with a fearful blow cut deep into
the head of his adversary. Instantly the big, round head collapsed,
almost as a punctured balloon collapses, as a grayish, semi-fluid
matter spurted from it. The protruding eyes, apparently lidless, merely
stared, the sphincter-like muscle of the mouth opened and closed,
and then the head toppled from the body to the ground. The body stood
dully for a moment and then slowly started to wander aimlessly about
until one of the others seized it by the arm.

One of the two heads crawling about on the ground now approached.
{}``This rykor belongs to Moak,'' it said. {}``I am a Moak. I will
take it,'' and without further discussion it commenced to crawl up
the front of the headless body, using its six short, spiderlike legs
and two stout chel\ae{} which grew just in front of its legs and
strongly resembled those of an Earthly lobster, except that they were
both of the same size. The body in the meantime stood in passive indifference,
its arms hanging idly at its sides. The head climbed to the shoulders
and settled itself inside the leather collar that now hid its chel\ae{}
and legs. Almost immediately the body gave evidence of intelligent
animation. It raised its hands and adjusted the collar more comfortably,
it took the head between its palms and settled it in place and when
it moved around it did not wander aimlessly, but instead its steps
were firm and to some purpose.

The girl watched all these things in growing wonder, and presently,
no other of the Moaks seeming inclined to dispute the right of the
Luud to her, she was led off by her captor toward the nearest tower.
Several accompanied them, including one who carried the loose head
under his arm. The head that was being carried conversed with the
head upon the shoulders of the thing that carried it. Tara of Helium
shivered. It was horrible! All that she had seen of these frightful
creatures was horrible. And to be a prisoner, wholly in their power.
Shadow of her first ancestor! What had she done to deserve so cruel
a fate?

At the wall enclosing the tower they paused while one opened the gate
and then they passed within the enclosure, which, to the girl's horror,
she found filled with headless bodies. The creature who carried the
bodiless head now set its burden upon the ground and the latter immediately
crawled toward one of the bodies that was lying near by. Some wandered
stupidly to and fro, but this one lay still. It was a female. The
head crawled to it and made its way to the shoulders where it settled
itself. At once the body sprang lightly erect. Another of those who
had accompanied them from the fields approached with the harness and
collar that had been taken from the dead body that the head had formerly
topped. The new body now appropriated these and the hands deftly adjusted
them. The creature was now as good as before Tara of Helium had struck
down its former body with her slim blade. But there was a difference.
Before it had been male\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]now it was female.
That, however, seemed to make no difference to the head. In fact,
Tara of Helium had noticed during the scramble and the fight about
her that sex differences seemed of little moment to her captors. Males
and females had taken equal part in her pursuit, both were identically
harnessed and both carried swords, and she had seen as many females
as males draw their weapons at the moment that a quarrel between the
two factions seemed imminent.

The girl was given but brief opportunity for further observation of
the pitiful creatures in the enclosure as her captor, after having
directed the others to return to the fields, led her toward the tower,
which they entered, passing into an apartment about ten feet wide
and twenty long, in one end of which was a stairway leading to an
upper level and in the other an opening to a similar stairway leading
downward. The chamber, though on a level with the ground, was brilliantly
lighted by windows in its inner wall, the light coming from a circular
court in the center of the tower. The walls of this court appeared
to be faced with what resembled glazed, white tile and the whole interior
of it was flooded with dazzling light, a fact which immediately explained
to the girl the purpose of the glass prisms of which the domes were
constructed. The stairways themselves were sufficient to cause remark,
since in nearly all Barsoomian architecture inclined runways are utilized
for purposes of communication between different levels, and especially
is this true of the more ancient forms and of those of remote districts
where fewer changes have come to alter the customs of antiquity.

Down the stairway her captor led Tara of Helium. Down and down through
chambers still lighted from the brilliant well. Occasionally they
passed others going in the opposite direction and these always stopped
to examine the girl and ask questions of her captor.

{}``I know nothing but that she was found in the fields and that
I caught her after a fight in which she slew two rykors and in which
I slew a Moak, and that I take her to Luud, to whom, of course, she
belongs. If Luud wishes to question her that is for Luud to do\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]not
for me.'' Thus always he answered the curious.

Presently they reached a room from which a circular tunnel led away
from the tower, and into this the creature conducted her. The tunnel
was some seven feet in diameter and flattened on the bottom to form
a walk. For a hundred feet from the tower it was lined with the same
tile-like material of the light well and amply illuminated by reflected
light from that source. Beyond it was faced with stone of various
shapes and sizes, neatly cut and fitted together\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
very fine mosaic without a pattern. There were branches, too, and
other tunnels which crossed this, and occasionally openings not more
than a foot in diameter; these latter being usually close to the floor.
Above each of these smaller openings was painted a different device,
while upon the walls of the larger tunnels at all intersections and
points of convergence hieroglyphics appeared. These the girl could
not read though she guessed that they were the names of the tunnels,
or notices indicating the points to which they led. She tried to study
some of them out, but there was not a character that was familiar
to her, which seemed strange, since, while the written languages of
the various nations of Barsoom differ, it still is true that they
have many characters and words in common.

She had tried to converse with her guard but he had not seemed inclined
to talk with her and she had finally desisted. She could not but note
that he had offered her no indignities, nor had he been either unnecessarily
rough or in any way cruel. The fact that she had slain two of the
bodies with her dagger had apparently aroused no animosity or desire
for revenge in the minds of the strange heads that surmounted the
bodies\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]even those whose bodies had been killed.
She did not try to understand it, since she could not approach the
peculiar relationship between the heads and the bodies of these creatures
from the basis of any past knowledge or experience of her own. So
far their treatment of her seemed to augur naught that might arouse
her fears. Perhaps, after all, she had been fortunate to fall into
the hands of these strange people, who might not only protect her
from harm, but even aid her in returning to Helium. That they were
repulsive and uncanny she could not forget, but if they meant her
no harm she could, at least, overlook their repulsiveness. Renewed
hope aroused within her a spirit of greater cheerfulness, and it was
almost blithely now that she moved at the side of her weird companion.
She even caught herself humming a gay little tune that was then popular
in Helium. The creature at her side turned its expressionless eyes
upon her.

{}``What is that noise that you are making?''\ it asked.

{}``I was but humming an air,'' she replied.

{}```Humming an air,''' he repeated. {}``I do not know what you
mean; but do it again, I like it.''

This time she sang the words, while her companion listened intently.
His face gave no indication of what was passing in that strange head.
It was as devoid of expression as that of a spider. It reminded her
of a spider. When she had finished he turned toward her again.

{}``That was different,'' he said. {}``I liked that better, even,
than the other. How do you do it?''

{}``Why,'' she said, {}``it is singing. Do you not know what song
is?''

{}``No,'' he replied. {}``Tell me how you do it.''

{}``It is difficult to explain,'' she told him.\ {}\linebreak[1]{}``since
any explanation of it presupposes some knowledge of melody and of
music, while your very question indicates that you have no knowledge
of either.''

{}``No,'' he said, {}``I do not know what you are talking about;
but tell me how you do it.''

{}``It is merely the melodious modulations of my voice,'' she explained.
{}``Listen!''\ and again she sang.

{}``I do not understand,'' he insisted; {}``but I like it. Could
you teach me to do it?''

{}``I do not know, but I shall be glad to try.''

{}``We will see what Luud does with you,'' he said. {}``If he does
not want you I will keep you and you shall teach me to make sounds
like that.''

At his request she sang again as they continued their way along the
winding tunnel, which was now lighted by occasional bulbs which appeared
to be similar to the radium bulbs with which she was familiar and
which were common to all the nations of Barsoom, insofar as she knew,
having been perfected at so remote a period that their very origin
was lost in antiquity. They consist, usually, of a hemispherical bowl
of heavy glass in which is packed a compound containing what, according
to John Carter, must be radium. The bowl is then cemented into a metal
plate with a heavily insulated back and the whole affair set in the
masonry of wall or ceiling as desired, where it gives off light of
greater or less intensity, according to the composition of the filling
material, for an almost incalculable period of time.

As they proceeded they met a greater number of the inhabitants of
this underground world, and the girl noted that among many of these
the metal and harness were more ornate than had been those of the
workers in the fields above. The heads and bodies, however, were similar,
even identical, she thought. No one offered her harm and she was now
experiencing a feeling of relief almost akin to happiness, when her
guide turned suddenly into an opening on the right side of the tunnel
and she found herself in a large, well lighted chamber.


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER V. THE PERFECT BRAIN}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER V.\\
THE PERFECT BRAIN}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{THE PERFECT BRAIN}

\textit{\emph{The}} song that had been upon her lips as she entered
died there\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]frozen by the sight of horror that
met her eyes. In the center of the chamber a headless body lay upon
the floor\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a body that had been partially devoured\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]while
over and upon it crawled a half a dozen heads upon their short, spider
legs, and they tore at the flesh of the woman with their chel\ae{}
and carried the bits to their awful mouths. They were eating human
flesh\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]eating it raw!

Tara of Helium gasped in horror and turning away covered her eyes
with her palms.

{}``Come!''\ said her captor. {}``What is the matter?''

{}``They are eating the flesh of the woman,'' she whispered in tones
of horror.

{}``Why not?''\ he inquired. {}``Did you suppose that we kept
the rykor for labor alone? Ah, no. They are delicious when kept and
fattened. Fortunate, too, are those that are bred for food, since
they are never called upon to do aught but eat.''

{}``It is hideous!''\ she cried.

He looked at her steadily for a moment, but whether in surprise, in
anger, or in pity his expressionless face did not reveal. Then he
led her on across the room past the frightful thing, from which she
turned away her eyes. Lying about the floor near the walls were half
a dozen headless bodies in harness. These she guessed had been abandoned
temporarily by the feasting heads until they again required their
services. In the walls of this room there were many of the small,
round openings she had noticed in various parts of the tunnels, the
purpose of which she could not guess.

They passed through another corridor and then into a second chamber,
larger than the first and more brilliantly illuminated. Within were
several of the creatures with heads and bodies assembled, while many
headless bodies lay about near the walls. Here her captor halted and
spoke to one of the occupants of the chamber.

{}``I seek Luud,'' he said. {}``I bring to Luud a creature that
I captured in the fields above.''

The others crowded about to examine Tara of Helium. One of them whistled,
whereupon the girl learned something of the smaller openings in the
walls, for almost immediately there crawled from them, like giant
spiders, a score or more of the hideous heads. Each sought one of
the recumbent bodies and fastened itself in place. Immediately the
bodies reacted to the intelligent direction of the heads. They arose,
the hands adjusted the leather collars and put the balance of the
harness in order, then the creatures crossed the room to where Tara
of Helium stood. She noted that their leather was more highly ornamented
than that worn by any of the others she had previously seen, and so
she guessed that these must be higher in authority than the others.
Nor was she mistaken. The demeanor of her captor indicated it. He
addressed them as one who holds intercourse with superiors.

Several of those who examined her felt her flesh, pinching it gently
between thumb and forefinger, a familiarity that the girl resented.
She struck down their hands. {}``Do not touch me!''\ she cried,
imperiously, for was she not a princess of Helium? The expression
on those terrible faces did not change. She could not tell whether
they were angry or amused, whether her action had filled them with
respect for her, or contempt. Only one of them spoke immediately.

{}``She will have to be fattened more,'' he said.

The girl's eyes went wide with horror. She turned upon her captor.
{}``Do these frightful creatures intend to devour me?''\ she cried.

{}``That is for Luud to say,'' he replied, and then he leaned closer
so that his mouth was near her ear. {}``That noise you made which
you called song pleased me,'' he whispered, {}``and I will repay
you by warning you not to antagonize these kaldanes. They are very
powerful. Luud listens to them. Do not call them frightful. They are
very handsome. Look at their wonderful trappings, their gold, their
jewels.''

{}``Thank you,'' she said. {}``You called them kaldanes\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]what
does that mean?''

{}``We are all kaldanes,'' he replied.

{}``You, too?''\ and she pointed at him, her slim finger directed
toward his chest.

{}``No, not this,'' he explained, touching his body; {}``this is
a rykor; but this,'' and he touched his head, {}``is a kaldane.
It is the brain, the intellect, the power that directs all things.
The rykor,'' he indicated his body, {}``is nothing. It is not so
much even as the jewels upon our harness; no, not so much as the harness
itself. It carries us about. It is true that we would find difficulty
getting along without it; but it has less value than harness or jewels
because it is less difficult to reproduce.'' He turned again to the
other kaldanes. {}``Will you notify Luud that I am here?''\ he
asked.

{}``Sept has already gone to Luud. He will tell him,'' replied one.
{}``Where did you find this rykor with the strange kaldane that cannot
detach itself?''

The girl's captor narrated once more the story of her capture. He
stated facts just as they had occurred, without embellishment, his
voice as expressionless as his face, and his story was received in
the same manner that it was delivered. The creatures seemed totally
lacking in emotion, or, at least, the capacity to express it. It was
impossible to judge what impression the story made upon them, or even
if they heard it. Their protruding eyes simply stared and occasionally
the muscles of their mouths opened and closed. Familiarity did not
lessen the horror the girl felt for them. The more she saw of them
the more repulsive they seemed. Often her body was shaken by convulsive
shudders as she looked at the kaldanes, but when her eyes wandered
to the beautiful bodies and she could for a moment expunge the heads
from her consciousness the effect was soothing and refreshing, though
when the bodies lay, headless, upon the floor they were quite as shocking
as the heads mounted on bodies. But by far the most grewsome and uncanny
sight of all was that of the heads crawling about upon their spider
legs. If one of these should approach and touch her Tara of Helium
was positive that she should scream, while should one attempt to crawl
up her person\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]ugh!\ the very idea induced
a feeling of faintness.

Sept returned to the chamber. {}``Luud will see you and the captive.
Come!''\ he said, and turned toward a door opposite that through
which Tara of Helium had entered the chamber. {}``What is your name?''
His question was directed to the girl's captor.

{}``I am Ghek, third foreman of the fields of Luud,'' he answered.

{}``And hers?''

{}``I do not know.''

{}``It makes no difference. Come!''

The patrician brows of Tara of Helium went high. It made no difference,
indeed! She, a princess of Helium; only daughter of The Warlord of
Barsoom!

{}``Wait!''\ she cried. {}``It makes much difference who I am.
If you are conducting me into the presence of your jed you may announce
The Princess Tara of Helium, daughter of John Carter, The Warlord
of Barsoom.''

{}``Hold your peace!''\ commanded Sept. {}``Speak when you are
spoken to. Come with me!''

The anger of Tara of Helium all but choked her. {}``Come,'' admonished
Ghek, and took her by the arm, and Tara of Helium came. She was naught
but a prisoner. Her rank and titles meant nothing to these inhuman
monsters. They led her through a short, S-shaped passageway into a
chamber entirely lined with the white, tile-like material with which
the interior of the light wall was faced. Close to the base of the
walls were numerous smaller apertures, circular in shape, but larger
than those of similar aspect that she had noted elsewhere. The majority
of these apertures were sealed. Directly opposite the entrance was
one framed in gold, and above it a peculiar device was inlaid in the
same precious metal.

Sept and Ghek halted just within the room, the girl between them,
and all three stood silently facing the opening in the opposite wall.
On the floor beside the aperture lay a headless male body of almost
heroic proportions, and on either side of this stood a heavily armed
warrior, with drawn sword. For perhaps five minutes the three waited
and then something appeared in the opening. It was a pair of large
chel\ae{} and immediately thereafter there crawled forth a hideous
kaldane of enormous proportions. He was half again as large as any
that Tara of Helium had yet seen and his whole aspect infinitely more
terrible. The skin of the others was a bluish gray\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]this
one was of a little bluer tinge and the eyes were ringed with bands
of white and scarlet, as was its mouth.

From each nostril a band of white and one of scarlet extended outward
horizontally the width of the face.

No one spoke or moved. The creature crawled to the prostrate body
and affixed itself to the neck. Then the two rose as one and approached
the girl. He looked at her and then he spoke to her captor.

{}``You are the third foreman of the fields of Luud?''\ he asked.

{}``Yes, Luud; I am called Ghek.''

{}``Tell me what you know of this,'' and he nodded toward Tara of
Helium.

Ghek did as he was bid and then Luud addressed the girl.

{}``What were you doing within the borders of Bantoom?''\ he asked.

{}``I was blown hither in a great storm that injured my flier and
carried me I knew not where. I came down into the valley at night
for food and drink. The banths came and drove me to the safety of
a tree, and then your people caught me as I was trying to leave the
valley. I do not know why they took me. I was doing no harm. All I
ask is that you let me go my way in peace.''

{}``None who enters Bantoom ever leaves,'' replied Luud.

{}``But my people are not at war with yours. I am a princess of Helium;
my great-grandfather is a jeddak; my grandfather a jed; and my father
is Warlord of all Barsoom. You have no right to keep me and I demand
that you liberate me at once.''

{}``None who enters Bantoom ever leaves,'' repeated the creature
without expression. {}``I know nothing of the lesser creatures of
Barsoom, of whom you speak. There is but one high race\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the
race of Bantoomians. All Nature exists to serve them. You shall do
your share, but not yet\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]you are too skinny.
We shall have to put some fat upon it, Sept. I tire of rykor. Perhaps
this will have a different flavor. The banths are too rank and it
is seldom that any other creature enters the valley. And you, Ghek;
you shall be rewarded. I shall promote you from the fields to the
burrows. Hereafter you shall remain underground as every Bantoomian
longs to. No more shall you be forced to endure the hated sun, or
look upon the hideous sky, or the hateful growing things that defile
the surface. For the present you shall look after this thing that
you have brought me, seeing that it sleeps and eats\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and
does nothing else. You understand me, Ghek; nothing else!''

{}``I understand, Luud,'' replied the other.

{}``Take it away!''\ commanded the creature.

Ghek turned and led Tara of Helium from the apartment. The girl was
horrified by contemplation of the fate that awaited her\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
fate from which it seemed, there was no escape. It was only too evident
that these creatures possessed no gentle or chivalric sentiments to
which she could appeal, and that she might escape from the labyrinthine
mazes of their underground burrows appeared impossible.

Outside the audience chamber Sept overtook them and conversed with
Ghek for a brief period, then her keeper led her through a confusing
web of winding tunnels until they came to a small apartment.

{}``We are to remain here for a while. It may be that Luud will send
for you again. If he does you will probably not be fattened\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]he
will use you for another purpose.'' It was fortunate for the girl's
peace of mind that she did not realize what he meant. {}``Sing for
me,'' said Ghek, presently.

Tara of Helium did not feel at all like singing, but she sang, nevertheless,
for there was always the hope that she might escape if given the opportuntiy
and if she could win the friendship of one of the creatures, her chances
would be increased proportionately. All during the ordeal, for such
it was to the overwrought girl, Ghek stood with his eyes fixed upon
her.

{}``It is wonderful,'' he said, when she had finished; {}``but
I did not tell Luud\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]you noticed that I did
not tell Luud about it. Had he known, he would have had you sing to
him and that would have resulted in your being kept with him that
he might hear you sing whenever he wished; but now I can have you
all the time.''

{}``How do you know he would like my singing?''\ she asked.

{}``He would have to,'' replied Ghek. {}``If I like a thing he
has to like it, for are we not identical\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]all
of us?''

{}``The people of my race do not all like the same things,'' said
the girl.

{}``How strange!''\ commented Ghek. {}``All kaldanes like the
same things and dislike the same things. If I discover something new
and like it I know that all kaldanes will like it. That is how I know
that Luud would like your singing. You see we are all exactly alike.''

{}``But you do not look like Luud,'' said the girl.

{}``Luud is king. He is larger and more gorgeously marked; but otherwise
he and I are identical, and why not? Did not Luud produce the egg
from which I hatched?''

{}``What?''\ queried the girl; {}``I do not understand you.''

{}``Yes,'' explained Ghek, {}``all of us are from Luud's eggs,
just as all the swarm of Moak are from Moak's eggs.''

{}``Oh!''\ exclaimed Tara of Helium understandingly; {}``you mean
that Luud has many wives and that you are the offspring of one of
them.''

{}``No, not that at all,'' replied Ghek. {}``Luud has no wife.
He lays the eggs himself. You do not understand.''

Tara of Helium admitted that she did not.

{}``I will try to explain, then,'' said Ghek, {}``if you will promise
to sing to me later.''

{}``I promise,'' she said.

{}``We are not like the rykors,'' he began. {}``They are creatures
of a low order, like yourself and the banths and such things. We have
no sex\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]not one of us except our king, who
is bi-sexual. He produces many eggs from which we, the workers and
the warriors, are hatched; and one in every thousand eggs is another
king egg, from which a king is hatched. Did you notice the sealed
openings in the room where you saw Luud? Sealed in each of those is
another king. If one of them escaped he would fall upon Luud and try
to kill him and if he succeeded we should have a new king; but there
would be no difference. His name would be Luud and all would go on
as before, for are we not all alike? Luud has lived a long time and
has produced many kings, so he lets only a few live that there may
be a successor to him when he dies. The others he kills.''

{}``Why does he keep more than one?''\ queried the girl.

{}``Sometimes accidents occur,'' replied Ghek, {}``and all the
kings that a swarm has saved are killed. When this happens the swarm
comes and obtains another king from a neighboring swarm.''

{}``Are all of you the children of Luud?''\ she asked.

{}``All but a few, who are from the eggs of the preceding king, as
was Luud; but Luud has lived a long time and not many of the others
are left.''

{}``You live a long time, or short?''\ Tara asked.

{}``A very long time.''

{}``And the rykors, too; they live a long time?''

{}``No; the rykors live for ten years, perhaps,'' he said, {}``if
they remain strong and useful. When they can no longer be of service
to us, either through age or sickness, we leave them in the fields
and the banths come at night and get them.''

{}``How horrible!''\ she exclaimed.

{}``Horrible?''\ he repeated. {}``I see nothing horrible about
that. The rykors are but brainless flesh. They neither see, nor feel,
nor hear. They can scarce move but for us. If we did not bring them
food they would starve to death. They are less deserving of thought
than our leather. All that they can do for themselves is to take food
from a trough and put it in their mouths, but with us\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]look
at them!''\  and he proudly exhibited the noble figure that he surmounted,
palpitant with life and energy and feeling.

{}``How do you do it?''\ asked Tara of Helium. {}``I do not understand
it at all.''

{}``I will show you,'' he said, and lay down upon the floor. Then
he detached himself from the body, which lay as a thing dead. On his
spider legs he walked toward the girl. {}``Now look,'' he admonished
her. {}``Do you see this thing?''\ and he extended what appeared
to be a bundle of tentacles from the posterior part of his head. {}``There
is an aperture just back of the rykor's mouth and directly over the
upper end of his spinal column. Into this aperture I insert my tentacles
and seize the spinal cord. Immediately I control every muscle of the
rykor's body\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]it becomes my own, just as you
direct the movement of the muscles of your body. I feel what the rykor
would feel if he had a head and brain. If he is hurt, I would suffer
if I remained connected with him; but the instant one of them is injured
or becomes sick we desert it for another. As we would suffer the pains
of their physical injuries, similarly do we enjoy the physical pleasures
of the rykors. When your body becomes fatigued you are comparatively
useless; it is sick, you are sick; if it is killed, you die. You are
the slave of a mass of stupid flesh and bone and blood. There is nothing
more wonderful about your carcass than there is about the carcass
of a banth. It is only your brain that makes you superior to the banth,
but your brain is bound by the limitations of your body. Not so, ours.
With us brain is everything. Ninety \emph{per centum} of our volume
is brain. We have only the simplest of vital organs and they are very
small for they do not have to assist in the support of a complicated
system of nerves, muscles, flesh and bone. We have no lungs, for we
do not require air. Far below the levels to which we can take the
rykors is a vast network of burrows where the real life of the kaldane
is lived. There the air-breathing rykor would perish as you would
perish. There we have stored vast quantities of food in hermetically
sealed chambers. It will last forever. Far beneath the surface is
water that will flow for countless ages after the surface water is
exhausted. We are preparing for the time we know must come\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the
time when the last vestige of the Barsoomian atmosphere is spent\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]when
the waters and the food are gone. For this purpose were we created,
that there might not perish from the planet Nature's divinest creation\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the
perfect brain.''

{}``But what purpose can you serve when that time comes?''\ asked
the girl.

{}``You do not understand,'' he said. {}``It is too big for you
to grasp, but I will try to explain it. Barsoom, the moons, the sun,
the stars, were created for a single purpose. From the beginning of
time Nature has labored arduously toward the consummation of this
purpose. At the very beginning things existed with life, but with
no brain. Gradually rudimentary nervous systems and minute brains
evolved. Evolution proceeded. The brains became larger and more powerful.
In us you see the highest development; but there are those of us who
believe that there is yet another step\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]that
some time in the far future our race shall develop into the super-thing\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]just
brain. The incubus of legs and chel\ae{} and vital organs will be
removed. The future kaldane will be nothing but a great brain. Deaf,
dumb, and blind it will lie sealed in its buried vault far beneath
the surface of Barsoom\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]just a great, wonderful,
beautiful brain with nothing to distract it from eternal thought.''

{}``You mean it will just lie there and think?''\ cried Tara of
Helium.

{}``Just that!''\ he exclaimed. {}``Could aught be more wonderful?''

{}``Yes,'' replied the girl, {}``I can think of a number of things
that would be infinitely more wonderful.''


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER VI. IN THE TOILS OF HORROR}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER VI.\\
IN THE TOILS OF HORROR}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{IN THE TOILS OF HORROR}

\textit{\emph{What}} the creature had told her gave Tara of Helium
food for thought. She had been taught that every created thing fulfilled
some useful purpose, and she tried conscientiously to discover just
what was the rightful place of the kaldane in the universal scheme
of things. She knew that it must have its place but what that place
was it was beyond her to conceive. She had to give it up. They recalled
to her mind a little group of people in Helium who had forsworn the
pleasures of life in the pursuit of knowledge. They were rather patronizing
in their relations with those whom they thought not so intellectual.
They considered themselves quite superior. She smiled at recollection
of a remark her father had once made concerning them, to the effect
that if one of them ever dropped his egotism and broke it it would
take a week to fumigate Helium. Her father liked normal people\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]people
who knew too little and people who knew too much were equally a bore.
Tara of Helium was like her father in this respect and like him, too,
she was both sane and normal.

Outside of her personal danger there was much in this strange world
that interested her. The rykors aroused her keenest pity, and vast
conjecture. How and from what form had they evolved? She asked Ghek.

{}``Sing to me again and I will tell you,'' he said. {}``If Luud
would let me have you, you should never die. I should keep you always
to sing to me.''

The girl marvelled at the effect her voice had upon the creature.
Somewhere in that enormous brain there was a chord that was touched
by melody. It was the sole link between herself and the brain when
detatched from the rykor. When it dominated the rykor it might have
other human instincts; but these she dreaded even to think of. After
she had sung she waited for Ghek to speak. For a long time he was
silent, just looking at her through those awful eyes.

{}``I wonder,'' he said presently, {}``if it might not be pleasant
to be of your race. Do you all sing?''

{}``Nearly all, a little,'' she said; {}``but we do many other
interesting and enjoyable things. We dance and play and work and love
and sometimes we fight, for we are a race of warriors.''

{}``Love!''\ said the kaldane. {}``I think I know what you mean;
but we, fortunately, are above sentiment\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]when
we are detached. But when we dominate the rykor\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]ah,
that is different, and when I hear you sing and look at your beautiful
body I know what you mean by love. I could love you.''

The girl shrank from him. {}``You promised to tell me the origin
of the rykor,'' she reminded him.

{}``Ages ago,'' he commenced, {}``our bodies were larger and our
heads smaller. Our legs were very weak and we could not travel fast
or far. There was a stupid creature that went upon four legs. It lived
in a hole in the ground, to which it brought its food, so we ran our
burrows into this hole and ate the food it brought; but it did not
bring enough for all\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]for itself and all the
kaldanes that lived upon it, so we had also to go abroad and get food.
This was hard work for our weak legs. Then it was that we commenced
to ride upon the backs of these primitive rykors. It took many ages,
undoubtedly, but at last came the time when the kaldane had found
means to guide the rykor, until presently the latter depended entirely
upon the superior brain of his master to guide him to food. The brain
of the rykor grew smaller as time went on. His ears went and his eyes,
for he no longer had use for them\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the kaldane
saw and heard for him. By similar steps the rykor came to go upon
its hind feet that the kaldane might be able to see farther. As the
brain shrank, so did the head. The mouth was the only feature of the
head that was used and so the mouth alone remains. Members of the
red race fell into the hands of our ancestors from time to time. They
saw the beauties and the advantages of the form that nature had given
the red race over that which the rykor was developing into. By intelligent
crossing the present rykor was achieved. He is really solely the product
of the super-intelligence of the kaldane\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]he
is our body, to do with as we see fit, just as you do what you see
fit with your body, only we have the advantage of possessing an unlimited
supply of bodies. Do you not wish that you were a kaldane?''

For how long they kept her in the subterranean chamber Tara of Helium
did not know. It seemed a very long time. She ate and slept and watched
the interminable lines of creatures that passed the entrance to her
prison. There was a laden line passing from above carrying food, food,
food. In the other line they returned empty handed. When she saw them
she knew that it was daylight above. When they did not pass she knew
it was night, and that the banths were about devouring the rykors
that had been abandoned in the fields the previous day. She commenced
to grow pale and thin. She did not like the food they gave her\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]it
was not suited to her kind\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]nor would she have
eaten overmuch palatable food, for the fear of becoming fat. The idea
of plumpness had a new significance here\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
horrible significance.

Ghek noted that she was growing thin and white. He spoke to her about
it and she told him that she could not thrive thus beneath the ground\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]that
she must have fresh air and sunshine, or she would wither and die.
Evidently he carried her words to Luud, since it was not long after
that he told her that the king had ordered that she be confined in
the tower and to the tower she was taken. She had hoped against hope
that this very thing might result from her conversation with Ghek.
Even to see the sun again was something, but now there sprang to her
breast a hope that she had not dared to nurse before, while she lay
in the terrible labyrinth from which she knew she could never have
found her way to the outer world; but now there was some slight reason
to hope. At least she could see the hills and if she could see them
might there not come also the opportunity to reach them? If she could
have but ten minutes\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]just ten little minutes!
The flier was still there\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]she knew that it
must be. Just ten minutes and she would be free\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]free
forever from this frightful place; but the days wore on and she was
never alone, not even for half of ten minutes. Many times she planned
her escape. Had it not been for the banths it had been easy of accomplishment
by night. Ghek always detached his body then and sank into what seemed
a semi-comatose condition. It could not be said that he slept, or
at least it did not appear like sleep, since his lidless eyes were
unchanged; but he lay quietly in a corner. Tara of Helium enacted
a thousand times in her mind the scene of her escape. She would rush
to the side of the rykor and seize the sword that hung in its harness.
Before Ghek knew what she purposed, she would have this and then before
he could give an alarm she would drive the blade through his hideous
head. It would take but a moment to reach the enclosure. The rykors
could not stop her, for they had no brains to tell them that she was
escaping. She had watched from her window the opening and closing
of the gate that led from the enclosure out into the fields and she
knew how the great latch operated. She would pass through and make
a quick dash for the hill. It was so near that they could not overtake
her. It was so easy! Or it would have been but for the banths! The
banths at night and the workers in the fields by day.

Confined to the tower and without proper exercise or food, the girl
failed to show the improvement that her captors desired. Ghek questioned
her in an effort to learn why it was that she did not grow round and
plump; that she did not even look as well as when they had captured
her. His concern was prompted by repeated inquiries on the part of
Luud and finally resulted in suggesting to Tara of Helium a plan whereby
she might find a new opportunity of escape.

{}``I am accustomed to walking in the fresh air and the sunlight,''
she told Ghek. {}``I cannot become as I was before if I am to be
always shut away in this one chamber, breathing poor air and getting
no proper exercise. Permit me to go out in the fields every day and
walk about while the sun is shining. Then, I am sure, I shall become
nice and fat.''

{}``You would run away,'' he said.

{}``But how could I if you were always with me?''\ she asked. {}``And
even if I wished to run away where could I go? I do not know even
the direction of Helium. It must be very far. The very first night
the banths would get me, would they not?''

{}``They would,'' said Ghek. {}``I will ask Luud about it.''

The following day he told her that Luud had said that she was to be
taken into the fields. He would try that for a time and see if she
improved.

{}``If you do not grow fatter he will send for you anyway,'' said
Ghek; {}``but he will not use you for food.''

Tara of Helium shuddered.

That day and for many days thereafter she was taken from the tower,
through the enclosure and out into the fields. Always was she alert
for an opportunity to escape; but Ghek was always close by her side.
It was not so much his presence that deterred her from making the
attempt as the number of workers that were always between her and
the hills where the flier lay. She could easily have eluded Ghek,
but there were too many of the others. And then, one day, Ghek told
her as he accompanied her into the open that this would be the last
time.

{}``Tonight you go to Luud,'' he said. {}``I am sorry as I shall
not hear you sing again.''

{}``Tonight!''\ She scarce breathed the word, yet it was vibrant
with horror.

She glanced quickly toward the hills. They were so close! Yet between
were the inevitable workers\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]perhaps a score
of them.

{}``Let us walk over there?''\ she said, indicating them. {}``I
should like to see what they are doing.''

{}``It is too far,'' said Ghek. {}``I hate the sun. It is much
pleasanter here where I can stand beneath the shade of this tree.''

{}``All right,'' she agreed; {}``then you stay here and I will
walk over. It will take me but a minute.''

{}``No,'' he answered. {}``I will go with you. You want to escape;
but you are not going to.''

{}``I cannot escape,'' she said.

{}``I know it,'' agreed Ghek; {}``but you might try. I do not wish
you to try. Possibly it will be better if we return to the tower at
once. It would go hard with me should you escape.''

Tara of Helium saw her last chance fading into oblivion. There would
never be another after today. She cast about for some pretext to lure
him even a little nearer to the hills.

{}``It is very little that I ask,'' she said. {}``Tonight you will
want me to sing to you. It will be the last time, if you do not let
me go and see what those kaldanes are doing I shall never sing to
you again.''

Ghek hesitated. {}``I will hold you by the arm all the time, then,''
he said.

{}``Why, of course, if you wish,'' she assented. {}``Come!''

The two moved toward the workers and the hills. The little party was
digging tubers from the ground. She had noted this and that nearly
always they were stooped low over their work, the hideous eyes bent
upon the upturned soil. She led Ghek quite close to them, pretending
that she wished to see exactly how they did the work, and all the
time he held her tightly by her left wrist.

{}``It is very interesting,'' she said, with a sigh, and then, suddenly;
{}``Look, Ghek!''\ and pointed quickly back in the direction of
the tower. The kaldane, still holding her turned half away from her
to look in the direction she had indicated and simultaneously, with
the quickness of a banth, she struck him with her right fist, backed
by every ounce of strength she possessed\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]struck
the back of the pulpy head just above the collar. The blow was sufficient
to accomplish her design, dislodging the kaldane from its rykor and
tumbling it to the ground. Instantly the grasp upon her wrist relaxed
as the body, no longer controlled by the brain of Ghek, stumbled aimlessly
about for an instant before it sank to its knees and then rolled over
on its back; but Tara of Helium waited not to note the full results
of her act. The instant the fingers loosened upon her wrist she broke
away and dashed toward the hills. Simultaneously a warning whistle
broke from Ghek's lips and in instant response the workers leaped
to their feet, one almost in the girl's path. She dodged the outstretched
arms and was away again toward the hills and freedom, when her foot
caught in one of the hoe-like instruments with which the soil had
been upturned and which had been left, half imbedded in the ground.
For an instant she ran on, stumbling, in a mad effort to regain her
equilibrium, but the upturned furrows caught her feet\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]again
she stumbled and this time went down, and as she scrambled to rise
again a heavy body fell upon her and seized her arms. A moment later
she was surrounded and dragged to her feet and as she looked around
she saw Ghek crawling to his prostrate rykor. A moment later he advanced
to her side.

The hideous face, incapable of registering emotion, gave no clue to
what was passing in the enormous brain. Was he nursing thoughts of
anger, of hate, of revenge? Tara of Helium could not guess, nor did
she care. The worst had happened. She had tried to escape and she
had failed. There would never be another opportunity.

{}``Come!''\ said Ghek. {}``We will return to the tower.'' The
deadly monotone of his voice was unbroken. It was worse than anger,
for it revealed nothing of his intentions. It but increased her horror
of these great brains that were beyond the possibility of human emotions.

And so she was dragged back to her prison in the tower and Ghek took
up his vigil again, squatting by the doorway, but now he carried a
naked sword in his hand and did not quit his rykor, only to change
to another that he had brought to him when the first gave indications
of weariness. The girl sat looking at him. He had not been unkind
to her, but she felt no sense of gratitude, nor, on the other hand,
any sense of hatred. The brains, incapable themselves of any of the
finer sentiments, awoke none in her. She could not feel gratitude,
or affection, or hatred of them. There was only the same unceasing
sense of horror in their presence. She had heard great scientists
discuss the future of the red race and she recalled that some had
maintained that eventually the brain would entirely dominate the man.
There would be no more instinctive acts or emotions, nothing would
be done on impulse; but on the contrary reason would direct our every
act. The propounder of the theory regretted that he might never enjoy
the blessings of such a state, which, he argued, would result in the
ideal life for mankind.

Tara of Helium wished with all her heart that this learned scientist
might be here to experience to the full the practical results of the
fulfillment of his prophecy. Between the purely physical rykor and
the purely mental kaldane there was little choice; but in the happy
medium of normal, and imperfect man, as she knew him, lay the most
desirable state of existence. It would have been a splendid object
lesson, she thought, to all those idealists who seek mass perfection
in any phase of human endeavor, since here they might discover the
truth that absolute perfection is as little to be desired as is its
antithesis.

Gloomy were the thoughts that filled the mind of Tara of Helium as
she awaited the summons from Luud\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the summons
that could mean for her but one thing; death. She guessed why he had
sent for her and she knew that she must find the means for self-destruction
before the night was over; but still she clung to hope and to life.
She would not give up until there was no other way. She startled Ghek
once by exclaiming aloud, almost fiercely: {}``I still live!''

{}``What do you mean?''\ asked the kaldane.

{}``I mean just what I say,'' she replied. {}``I still live and
while I live I may still find a way. Dead, there is no hope.''

{}``Find a way to what?''\ he asked.

{}``To life and liberty and mine own people,'' she responded.

{}``None who enters Bantoom ever leaves,'' he droned.

She did not reply and after a time he spoke again. {}``Sing to me,''
he said.

It was while she was singing that four warriors came to take her to
Luud. They told Ghek that he was to remain where he was.

{}``Why?''\ asked Ghek.

{}``You have displeased Luud,'' replied one of the warriors.

{}``How?''\ demanded Ghek.

{}``You have demonstrated a lack of uncontaminated reasoning power.
You have permitted sentiment to influence you, thus demonstrating
that you are a defective. You know the fate of defectives.''

{}``I know the fate of defectives, but I am no defective,'' insisted
Ghek.

{}``You permitted the strange noises which issue from her throat
to please and soothe you, knowing well that their origin and purpose
had nothing whatever to do with logic or the powers of reason. This
in itself constitutes an unimpeachable indictment of weakness, Then,
influenced doubtless by an illogical feeling of sentiment, you permitted
her to walk abroad in the fields to a place where she was able to
make an almost successful attmept to escape. Your own reasoning power,
were it not defective, would convince you that you are unfit. The
natural, and reasonable, consequence is destruction. Therefore you
will be destroyed in such a way that the example will be beneficial
to all other kaldanes of the swarm of Luud. In the meantime you will
remain where you are.''

{}``You are right,'' said Ghek. {}``I will remain here until Luud
sees fit to destroy me in the most reasonable manner.''

Tara of Helium shot a look of amazement at him as they led her from
the chamber. Over her shoulder she called back to him: {}``Remember,
Ghek, you still live!''\ Then they led her along the interminable
tunnels to where Luud awaited her.

When she was conducted into his presence he was squatting in a corner
of the chamber upon his six spidery legs. Near the opposite wall lay
his rykor, its beautiful form trapped in gorgeous harness\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
dead thing without a guiding kaldane. Luud dismissed the warriors
who had accompanied the prisoner. Then he sat with his terrible eyes
fixed upon her and without speaking for some time. Tara of Helium
could but wait. What was to come she could only guess. When it came
would be sufficiently the time to meet it. There was no neccessity
for anticipating the end. Presently Luud spoke.

{}``You think to escape,'' he said, in the deadly, expressionless
monotone of his kind\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the only possible result
of orally expressing reason uninfluenced by sentiment. {}``You will
not escape. You are merely the embodiment of two imperfect things\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]an
imperfect brain and an imperfect body. The two cannot exist together
in perfection. There you see a perfect body.'' He pointed toward
the rykor. {}``It has no brain. Here,'' and he raised one of his
chel\ae{} to his head, {}``is the perfect brain. It needs no body
to function perfectly and properly as a brain. You would pit your
feeble intellect against mine! Even now you are planning to slay me.
If you are thwarted in that you expect to slay yourself. You will
learn the power of mind over matter. I am the mind. You are the matter.
What brain you have is too weak and ill-developed to deserve the name
of brain. You have permitted it to be weakened by impulsive acts dictated
by sentiment. It has no value. It has practically no control over
your existence. You will not kill me. You will not kill yourself.
When I am through with you you shall be killed if it seems the logical
thing to do. You have no conception of the possibilities for power
which lie in a perfectly developed brain. Look at that rykor. He has
no brain. He can move but slightly of his own volition. An inherent
mechanical instinct that we have permitted to remain in him allows
him to carry food to his mouth; but he could not find food for himself.
We have to place it within his reach and always in the same place.
Should we put food at his feet and leave him alone he would starve
to death. But now watch what a real brain may accomplish.''

He turned his eyes upon the rykor and squatted there glaring at the
insensate thing. Presently, to the girl's horror, the headless body
moved. It rose slowly to its feet and crossed the room to Luud; it
stooped and took the hideous head in its hands; it raised the head
and set it on its shoulders.

{}``What chance have you against such power?''\ asked Luud. {}``As
I did with the rykor so can I do with you.''

Tara of Helium made no reply. Evidently no vocal reply was necessary.

{}``You doubt my ability!''\ stated Luud, which was precisely the
fact, though the girl had only thought it\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]she
had not said it.

Luud crossed the room and lay down. Then he detached himself from
the body and crawled across the floor until he stood directly in front
of the circular opening through which she had seen him emerge the
day that she had first been brought to his presence. He stopped there
and fastened his terrible eyes upon her. He did not speak, but his
eyes seemed to be boring straight to the center of her brain. She
felt an almost irresistible force urging her toward the kaldane. She
fought to resist it; she tried to turn away her eyes, but she could
not. They were held as in horrid fascination upon the glittering,
lidless orbs of the great brain that faced her. Slowly, every step
a painful struggle of resistance, she moved toward the horrific monster.
She tried to cry aloud in an effort to awaken her numbing faculties,
but no sound passed her lips. If those eyes would but turn away, just
for an instant, she felt that she might regain the power to control
her steps; but the eyes never left hers. They seemed but to burn deeper
and deeper, gathering up every vestige of control of her entire nervous
system.

As she approached the thing it backed slowly away upon its spider
legs. She noticed that its chel\ae{} waved slowly to and fro before
it as it backed, backed, backed, through the round aperture in the
wall. Must she follow it there, too? What new and nameless horror
lay concealed in that hidden chamber? No!\ she would not do it. Yet
before she reached the wall she found herself down and crawling upon
her hands and knees straight toward the hole from which the two eyes
still clung to hers. At the very threshold of the opening she made
a last, heroic stand, battling against the force that drew her on;
but in the end she succumbed. With a gasp that ended in a sob Tara
of Helium passed through the aperture into the chamber beyond.

The opening was but barely large enough to admit her. Upon the opposite
side she found herself in a small chamber. Before her squatted Luud.
Against the opposite wall lay a large and beautiful male rykor. He
was without harness or other trappings.

{}``You see now,'' said Luud, {}``the futility of revolt.''

The words seemed to release her momentarily from the spell. Quickly
she turned away her eyes.

{}``Look at me!''\ commanded Luud.

Tara of Helium kept her eyes averted. She felt a new strength, or
at least a diminution of the creature's power over her. Had she stumbled
upon the secret of its uncanny domination over her will? She dared
not hope. With eyes averted she turned toward the aperture through
which those baleful eyes had drawn her. Again Luud commanded her to
stop, but the voice alone lacked all authority to influence her. It
was not like the eyes. She heard the creature whistle and knew that
it was summoning assistance, but because she did not dare look toward
it she did not see it turn and concentrate its gaze upon the great,
headless body lying by the further wall.

The girl was still slightly under the spell of the creature's influence\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]she
had not regained full and independent domination of her powers. She
moved as one in the throes of some hideous nightmare\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]slowly,
painfully, as though each limb was hampered by a great weight, or
as she were dragging her body through a viscous fluid. The aperture
was close, ah, so close, yet, struggle as she would, she seemed to
be making no appreciable progress toward it.

Behind her, urged on by the malevolent power of the great brain, the
headless body crawled upon all-fours toward her. At last she had reached
the aperture. Something seemed to tell her that once beyond it the
domination of the kaldane would be broken. She was almost through
into the adjoining chamber when she felt a heavy hand close upon her
ankle. The rykor had reached forth and seized her, and though she
struggled the thing dragged her back into the room with Luud. It held
her tight and drew her close, and then, to her horror, it commenced
to caress her.

{}``You see now,'' she heard Luud's dull voice, {}``the futility
of revolt\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and its punishment.''

Tara of Helium fought to defend herself, but pitifully weak were her
muscles against this brainless incarnation of brute power. Yet she
fought, fought on in the face of hopeless odds for the honor of the
proud name she bore\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]fought alone, she whom
the fighting men of a mighty empire, the flower of Martian chivalry,
would gladly have lain down their lives to save.


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER VII. A REPELLENT SIGHT}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER VII.\\
A REPELLENT SIGHT}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{A REPELLENT SIGHT}

\textit{\emph{The}} cruiser \emph{Vanator} careened through the tempest.
That she had not been dashed to the ground, or twisted by the force
of the elements into tangled wreckage, was due entirely to the caprice
of Nature. For all the duration of the storm she rode, a helpless
derelict, upon those storm-tossed waves of wind. But for all the dangers
and vicissitudes they underwent, she and her crew might have borne
charmed lives up to within an hour of the abating of the hurricane.
It was then that the catastrophe occurred\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
catastrophe indeed to the crew of the \emph{Vanator} and the kingdom
of Gathol.

The men had been without food or drink since leaving Helium, and they
had been hurled about and buffeted in their lashings until all were
worn to exhaustion. There was a brief lull in the storm during which
one of the crew attempted to reach his quarters, after releasing the
lashings which had held him to the precarious safety of the deck.
The act in itself was a direct violation of orders and, in the eyes
of the other members of the crew, the effect, which came with startling
suddenness, took the form of a swift and terrible retribution. Scarce
had the man released the safety snaps ere a swift arm of the storm-monster
encircled the ship, rolling it over and over, with the result that
the foolhardy warrior went overboard at the first turn.

Unloosed from their lashing by the constant turning and twisting of
the ship and the force of the wind, the boarding and landing tackle
had been trailing beneath the keel, a tangled mass of cordage and
leather. Upon the occasions that the \emph{Vanator} rolled completely
over, these things would be wrapped around her until another revolution
in the opposite direction, or the wind itself, carried them once again
clear of the deck to trail, whipping in the storm, beneath the hurtling
ship.

Into this fell the body of the warrior, and as a drowning man clutches
at a straw so the fellow clutched at the tangled cordage that caught
him and arrested his fall. With the strength of desperation he clung
to the cordage, seeking frantically to entangle his legs and body
in it. With each jerk of the ship his hand holds were all but torn
loose, and though he knew that eventually they would be and that he
must be dashed to the ground beneath, yet he fought with the madness
that is born of hopelessness for the pitiful second which but prolonged
his agony.

It was upon this sight then that Gahan of Gathol looked, over the
edge of the careening deck of the \emph{Vanator}, as he sought to
learn the fate of his warrior. Lashed to the gunwale close at hand
a single landing leather that had not fouled the tangled mass beneath
whipped free from the ship's side, the hook snapping at its outer
end. The Jed of Gathol grasped the situation in a single glance. Below
him one of his people looked into the eyes of Death. To the jed's
hand lay the means for succor.

There was no instant's hesitation. Casting off his deck lashings,
he seized the landing leather and slipped over the ship's side. Swinging
like a bob upon a mad pendulum he swung far out and back again, turning
and twisting three thousand feet above the surface of Barsoom, and
then, at last, the thing he had hoped for occurred. He was carried
within reach of the cordage where the warrior still clung, though
with rapidly diminishing strength. Catching one leg on a loop of the
tangled strands Gahan pulled himself close enough to seize another
quite near to the fellow. Clinging precariously to this new hold the
jed slowly drew in the landing leather, down which he had clambered
until he could grasp the hook at its end. This he fastened to a ring
in the warrior's harness, just before the man's weakened fingers slipped
from their hold upon the cordage.

Temporarily, at least, he had saved the life of his subject, and now
he turned his attention toward insuring his own safety. Inextricably
entangled in the mess to which he was clinging were numerous other
landing hooks such as he had attached to the warrior's harness, and
with one of these he sought to secure himself until the storm should
abate sufficiently to permit him to climb to the deck, but even as
he reached for one that swung near him the ship was caught in a renewed
burst of the storm's fury, the thrashing cordage whipped and snapped
to the lunging of the great craft and one of the heavy metal hooks,
lashing through the air, struck the Jed of Gathol fair between the
eyes.

Momentarily stunned, Gahan's fingers slipped from their hold upon
the cordage and the man shot downward through the thin air of dying
Mars toward the ground three thousand feet beneath, while upon the
deck of the rolling \emph{Vanator} his faithful warriors clung to
their lashings all unconscious of the fate of their beloved leader;
nor was it until more than an hour later, after the storm had materially
subsided, that they realized he was lost, or knew the self-sacrificing
heroism of the act that had sealed his doom. The \emph{Vanator} now
rested upon an even keel as she was carried along by a strong, though
steady, wind. The warriors had cast off their deck lashings and the
officers were taking account of losses and damage when a weak cry
was heard from oversides, attracting their attention to the man hanging
in the cordage beneath the keel. Strongs arms hoisted him to the deck
and then it was that the crew of the \emph{Vanator} learned of the
heroism of their jed and his end. How far they had traveled since
his loss they could only vaguely guess, nor could they return in search
of him in the disabled condition of the ship. It was a saddened company
that drifted onward through the air toward whatever destination Fate
was to choose for them.

And Gahan, Jed of Gathol\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]what of him? Plummet-like
he fell for a thousand feet and then the storm seized him in its giant
clutch and bore him far aloft again. As a bit of paper borne upon
a gale he was tossed about in mid-air, the sport and plaything of
the wind. Over and over it turned him and upward and downward it carried
him, but after each new sally of the element he was brought nearer
to the ground. The freaks of cyclonic storms are the rule of cyclonic
storms, demolish giant trees, and in the same gust they transport
frail infants for miles and deposit them unharmed in their wake.

And so it was with Gahan of Gathol. Expecting momentarily to be dashed
to destruction he presently found himself deposited gently upon the
soft, ochre moss of a dead sea-bottom, bodily no worse off for his
harrowing adventure than in the possession of a slight swelling upon
his forehead where the metal hook had struck him. Scarcely able to
believe that Fate had dealt thus gently with him, the jed arose slowly,
as though more than half convinced that he should discover crushed
and splintered bones that would not support his weight. But he was
intact. He looked about him in a vain effort at orientation. The air
was filled with flying dust and debris. The Sun was obliterated. His
vision was confined to a radius of a few hundred yards of ochre moss
and dust-filled air. Five hundred yards away in any direction there
might have arisen the walls of a great city and he not known it. It
was useless to move from where he was until the air cleared, since
he could not know in what direction he was moving, and so he stretched
himself upon the moss and waited, pondering the fate of his warriors
and his ship, but giving little thought to his own precarious situation.

Lashed to his harness were his swords, his pistols, and a dagger,
and in his pocket-pouch a small quantity of the concentrated rations
that form a part of the equipment of the fighting men of Barsoom.
These things together with trained muscles, high courage, and an undaunted
spirit sufficed him for whatever misadventures might lie between him
and Gathol, which lay in what direction he knew not, nor at what distance.

The wind was falling rapidly and with it the dust that obscured the
landscape. That the storm was over he was convinced, but he chafed
at the inactivity the low visibility put upon him, nor did conditions
better materially before night fell, so that he was forced to await
the new day at the very spot at which the tempest had deposited him.
Without his sleeping silks and furs he spent a far from comfortable
night, and it was with feelings of unmixed relief that he saw the
sudden dawn burst upon him. The air was now clear and in the light
of the new day he saw an undulating plain stretching in all directions
about him, while to the northwest there were barely discernible the
outlines of low hills. Toward the southeast of Gathol was such a country,
and as Gahan surmised the direction and the velocity of the storm
to have carried him somewhere in the vicinity of the country he thought
he recognized, he assumed that Gathol lay behind the hills he now
saw, whereas, in reality, it lay far to the northeast.

It was two days before Gahan had crossed the plain and reached the
summit of the hills from which he hoped to see his own country, only
to meet at last with disappointment. Before him stretched another
plain, of even greater proportions than that he had but just crossed,
and beyond this other hills. In one material respect this plain differed
from that behind him in that it was dotted with occasional isolated
hills. Convinced, however, that Gathol lay somewhere in the direction
of his search he descended into the valley and bent his steps toward
the northwest.

For weeks Gahan of Gathol crossed valleys and hills in search of some
familiar landmark that might point his way toward his native land,
but the summit of each succeeding ridge revealed but another unfamiliar
view. He saw few animals and no men, until he finally came to the
belief that he had fallen upon that fabled area of ancient Barsoom
which lay under the curse of her olden gods\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the
once rich and fertile country whose people in their pride and arrogance
had denied the deities, and whose punishment had been extermination.

And then, one day, he scaled low hills and looked into an inhabited
valley\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a valley of trees and cultivated fields
and plots of ground enclosed by stone walls surrounding strange towers.
He saw people working in the fields, but he did not rush down to greet
them. First he must know more of them and whether they might be assumed
to be friends or enemies. Hidden by concealing shrubbery he crawled
to a vantage point upon a hill that projected further into the valley,
and here he lay upon his belly watching the workers closest to him.
They were still quite a distance from him and he could not be quite
sure of them, but there was something verging upon the unnatural about
them. Their heads seemed out of proportion to their bodies\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]too
large.

For a long time he lay watching them and ever more forcibly it was
borne in upon his consciousness that they were not as he, and that
it would be rash to trust himself among them. Presently he saw a couple
appear from the nearest enclosure and slowly approach those who were
working nearest to the hill where he lay in hiding. Immediately he
was aware that one of these differed from all the others. Even at
the greater distance he noted that the head was smaller and as they
approached, he was confident that the harness of one of them was not
as the harness of its companion or of that of any of those who tilled
the fields.

The two stopped often, apparently in argument, as though one would
proceed in the direction that they were going while the other demurred.
But each time the smaller won reluctant consent from the other, and
so they came closer and closer to the last line of workers toiling
between the enclosure from which they had come and the hill where
Gahan of Gathol lay watching, and then suddenly the smaller figure
struck its companion full in the face. Gahan, horrified, saw the latter's
head topple from its body, saw the body stagger and fall to the ground.
The man half rose from his concealment the better to view the happening
in the valley below. The creature that had felled its companion was
dashing madly in the direction of the hill upon which he was hidden,
it dodged one of the workers that sought to seize it. Gahan hoped
that it would gain its liberty, why he did not know other than at
closer range it had every appearance of being a creature of his own
race. Then he saw it stumble and go down and instantly its pursuers
were upon it. Then it was that Gahan's eyes chanced to return to the
figure of the creature the fugitive had felled.

What horror was this that he was witnessing? Or were his eyes playing
some ghastly joke upon him? No, impossible though it was\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]it
was true\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the head was moving slowly to the
fallen body. It placed itself upon the shoulders, the body rose, and
the creature, seemingly as good as new, ran quickly to where its fellows
were dragging the hapless captive to its feet.

The watcher saw the creature take its prisoner by the arm and lead
it back to the enclosure, and even across the distance that separated
them from him he could note dejection and utter hopelessness in the
bearing of the prisoner, and, too, he was half convinced that it was
a woman, perhaps a red Martian of his own race. Could he be sure that
this was true he must make some effort to rescue her even though the
customs of his strange world required it only in case she was of his
own country; but he was not sure; she might not be a red Martian at
all, or, if she were, it was as possible that she sprang from an enemy
people as not. His first duty was to return to his own people with
as little personal risk as possible, and though the thought of adventure
stirred his blood he put the temptation aside with a sigh and turned
away from the peaceful and beautiful valley that he longed to enter,
for it was his intention to skirt its eastern edge and continue his
search for Gathol beyond.

As Gahan of Gathol turned his steps along the southern slopes of the
hills that bound Bantoom upon the south and east, his attention was
attracted toward a small cluster of trees a short distance to his
right. The low sun was casting long shadows. It would soon be night.
The trees were off the path that he had chosen and he had little mind
to be diverted from his way; but as he looked again he hesitated.
There was something there besides boles of trees, and underbrush.
There were suggestions of familiar lines of the handicraft of man.
Gahan stopped and strained his eyes in the direction of the thing
that had arrested his attention. No, he must be mistaken\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the
branches of the trees and a low bush had taken on an unnatural semblance
in the horizontal rays of the setting sun. He turned and continued
upon his way; but as he cast another side glance in the direction
of the object of his interest, the sun's rays were shot back into
his eyes from a glistening point of radiance among the trees.

Gahan shook his head and walked quickly toward the mystery, determined
now to solve it. The shining object still lured him on and when he
had come closer to it his eyes went wide in surprise, for the thing
they saw was naught else than the jewel-encrusted emblem upon the
prow of a small flier. Gahan, his hand upon his short-sword, moved
silently forward, but as he neared the craft he saw that he had naught
to fear, for it was deserted. Then he turned his attention toward
the emblem. As its significance was flashed to his understanding his
face paled and his heart went cold\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]it was
the insignia of the house of The Warlord of Barsoom. Instantly he
saw the dejected figure of the captive being led back to her prison
in the valley just beyond the hills. Tara of Helium! And he had been
so near to deserting her to her fate. The cold sweat stood in beads
upon his brow.

A hasty examination of the deserted craft unfolded to the young jed
the whole tragic story. The same tempest that had proved his undoing
had borne Tara of Helium to this distant country. Here, doubtless,
she had landed in hope of obtaining food and water since, without
a propellor, she could not hope to reach her native city, or any other
friendly port, other than by the merest caprice of Fate. The flier
seemed intact except for the missing propellor and the fact that it
had been carefully moored in the shelter of the clump of trees indicated
that the girl had expected to return to it, while the dust and leaves
upon its deck spoke of the long days, and even weeks, since she had
landed. Mute yet eloquent proofs, these things, that Tara of Helium
was a prisoner, and that she was the very prisoner whose bold dash
for liberty he had so recently witnessed he now had not the slightest
doubt.

The question now revolved solely about her rescue. He knew to which
tower she had been taken\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]that much and no
more. Of the number, the kind, or the disposition of her captors he
renew nothing; nor did he care\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]for Tara of
Helium he would face a hostile world alone. Rapidly he considered
several plans for succoring her; but the one that appealed most strongly
to him was that which offered the greatest chance of escape for the
girl should he be successful in reaching her. His decision reached
he turned his attention quickly toward the flier. Casting off its
lashings he dragged it out from beneath the trees, and, mounting to
the deck tested out the various controls. The motor started at a touch
and purred sweetly, the buoyancy tanks were well stocked, and the
ship answered perfectly to the controls which regulated her altitude.
There was nothing needed but a propellor to make her fit for the long
voyage to Helium. Gahan shrugged impatiently\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]there
must not be a propellor within a thousand haads. But what mattered
it? The craft even without a propellor would still answer the purpose
his plan required of it\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]provided the captors
of Tara of Helium were a people without ships, and he had seen nothing
to suggest that they had ships. The architecture of their towers and
enclosures assured him that they had not.

The sudden Barsoomian night had fallen. Cluros rode majestically the
high heavens. The rumbling roar of a banth reverberated among the
hills. Gahan of Gathol let the ship rise a few feet from the ground,
then, seizing a bow rope, he dropped over the side. To tow the little
craft was now a thing of ease, and as Gahan moved rapidly toward the
brow of the hill above Bantoom the flier floated behind him as lightly
as a swan upon a quiet lake. Now down the hill toward the tower dimly
visible in the moonlight the Gatholian turned his steps. Closer behind
him sounded the roar of the hunting banth. He wondered if the beast
sought him or was following some other spoor. He could not be delayed
now by any hungry beast of prey, for what might that very instant
be befalling Tara of Helium he could not guess; and so he hastened
his steps. But closer and closer came the horrid screams of the great
carnivore, and now he heard the swift fall of padded feet upon the
hillside behind him. He glanced back just in time to see the beast
break into a rapid charge. His hand leaped to the hilt of his long-sword,
but he did not draw, for in the same instant he saw the futility of
armed resistance, since behind the first banth came a herd of at least
a dozen others. There was but a single alternative to a futile stand
and that he grasped in the instant that he saw the overwhelming numbers
of his antagonists.

Springing lightly from the ground he swarmed up the rope toward the
bow of the flier. His weight drew the craft slightly lower and at
the very instant that the man drew himself to the deck at the bow
of the vessel, the leading banth sprang for the stern. Gahan leaped
to his feet and rushed toward the great beast in the hope of dislodging
it before it had succeeded in clambering aboard. At the same instant
he saw that others of the banths were racing toward them with the
quite evident intention of following their leader to the ship's deck.
Should they reach it in any numbers he would be lost. There was but
a single hope. Leaping for the altitude control Gahan pulled it wide.
Simultaneously three banths leaped for the deck. The craft rose swiftly.
Gahan felt the impact of a body against the keel, followed by the
soft thuds of the great bodies as they struck the ground beneath.
His act had not been an instant too soon. And now the leader had gained
the deck and stood at the stern with glaring eyes and snarling jaws.
Gahan drew his sword. The beast, possibly disconcerted by the novelty
of its position, did not charge. Instead it crept slowly toward its
intended prey. The craft was rising and Gahan placed a foot upon the
control and stopped the ascent. He did not wish to chance rising to
some higher air current that would bear him away. Already the craft
was moving slowly toward the tower, carried thither by the impetus
of the banth's heavy body leaping upon it from astern.

The man watched the slow approach of the monster, the slavering jowls,
the malignant expression of the devilish face. The creature, finding
the deck stable, appeared to be gaining confidence, and then the man
leaped suddenly to one side of the deck and the tiny flier heeled
as suddenly in response. The banth slipped and clutched frantically
at the deck. Gahan leaped in with his naked sword; the great beast
caught itself and reared upon its hind legs to reach forth and seize
this presumptuous mortal that dared question its right to the flesh
it craved; and then the man sprang to the opposite side of the deck.
The banth toppled sideways at the same instant that it attempted to
spring; a raking talon passed close to Gahan's head at the moment
that his sword lunged through the savage heart, and as the warrior
wrenched his blade from the carcass it slipped silently over the side
of the ship.

A glance below showed that the vessel was drifting in the direction
of the tower to which Gahan had seen the prisoner led. In another
moment or two it would be directly over it. The man sprang to the
control and let the craft drop quickly toward the ground where followed
the banths, still hot for their prey. To land outside the enclosure
spelled certain death, while inside he could see many forms huddled
upon the ground as in sleep. The ship floated now but a few feet above
the wall of the enclosure. There was nothing for it but to risk all
on a bold bid for fortune, or drift helplessly past without hope of
returning through the banth-infested valley, from many points of which
he could now hear the roars and growls of these fierce Barsoomian
lions.

Slipping over the side Gahan descended by the trailing anchor-rope
until his feet touched the top of the wall, where he had no difficulty
in arresting the slow drifting of the ship. Then he drew up the anchor
and lowered it inside the enclosure. Still there was no movement upon
the part of the sleepers beneath\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]they lay
as dead men. Dull lights shone from openings in the tower; but there
was no sign of guard or waking inmate. Clinging to the rope Gahan
lowered himself within the enclosure, where he had his first close
view of the creatures lying there in what he had thought sleep. With
a half smothered exclamation of horror the man drew back from the
headless bodies of the rykors. At first he thought them the corpses
of decapitated humans like himself, which was quite bad enough; but
when he saw them move and realized that they were endowed with life,
his horror and disgust became even greater.

Here then was the explanation of the thing he had witnessed that afternoon,
when Tara of Helium had struck the back to its body. And to think
that the pearl of Helium was in the power of such hideous things as
these. Again the man shuddered, but he hastened to make fast the flier,
clamber again to its deck and lower it to the floor of the enclosure.
Then he strode toward a door in the base of the tower, stepping lightly
over the recumbent forms of the unconscious rykors, and crossing the
threshold disappeared within.


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER VIII. CLOSE WORK}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER VIII.\\
CLOSE WORK}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{CLOSE WORK}

\textit{\emph{Ghek}}, in his happier days third foreman of the fields
of Luud, sat nursing his anger and his humiliation. Recently something
had awakened within him the existence of which he had never before
even dreamed. Had the influence of the strange captive woman aught
to do with this unrest and dissatisfaction? He did not know. He missed
the soothing influence of the noise she called singing. Could it be
that there were other things more desirable than cold logic and undefiled
brain power? Was well balanced imperfection more to be sought after
then, than the high development of a single characteristic? He thought
of the great, ultimate brain toward which all kaldanes were striving.
It would be deaf, and dumb, and blind. A thousand beautiful strangers
might sing and dance about it, but it could derive no pleasure from
the singing or the dancing since it would possess no perceptive faculties.
Already had the kaldanes shut themselves off from most of the gratifications
of the senses. Ghek wondered if much was to be gained by denying themselves
still further, and with the thought came a question as to the whole
fabric of their theory. After all perhaps the girl was right; what
purpose could a great brain serve sealed in the bowels of the earth?

And he, Ghek, was to die for this theory. Luud had decreed it. The
injustice of it overwhelmed him with rage. But he was helpless. There
was no escape. Beyond the enclosure the banths awaited him; within,
his own kind, equally as merciless and ferocious. Among them there
was no such thing as love, or loyalty, or friendship\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]they
were just brains. He might kill Luud; but what would that profit him?
Another king would be loosed from his sealed chamber and Ghek would
be killed. He did not know it but he would not even have the poor
satisfaction of satisfied revenge, since he was not capable of feeling
so abstruse a sentiment.

Ghek, mounted upon his rykor, paced the floor of the tower chamber
in which he had been ordered to remain. Ordinarily he would have accepted
the sentence of Luud with perfect equanimity, since it was but the
logical result of reason; but now it seemed different. The stranger
woman had bewitched him. Life appeared a pleasant thing\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]there
were great possibilities in it. The dream of the ultimate brain had
receded into a tenuous haze far in the background of his thoughts.

At that moment there appeared in the doorway of the chamber a red
warrior with naked sword. He was a male counterpart of the prisoner
whose sweet voice had undermined the cold, calculating reason of the
kaldane.

{}``Silence!''\ admonished the newcomer, his straight brows gathered
in an ominous frown and the point of his longsword playing menacingly
before the eyes of the kaldane. {}``I seek the woman, Tara of Helium.
Where is she? If you value your life speak quickly and speak the truth.''

If he valued his life! It was a truth that Ghek had but just learned.
He thought quickly. After all, a great brain is not without its uses.
Perhaps here lay escape from the sentence of Luud.

{}``You are of her kind?''\ he asked. {}``You come to rescue her?''

{}``Yes.''

{}``Listen, then. I have befriended her, and because of this I am
to die. If I help you to liberate her, will you take me with you?''

Gahan of Gathol eyed the weird creature from crown to foot\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the
perfect body, the grotesque head, the expressionless face. Among such
as these had the beautiful daughter of Helium been held captive for
days and weeks.

{}``If she lives and is unharmed,'' he said, {}``I will take you
with us.''

{}``When they took her from me she was alive and unharmed,'' replied
Ghek. {}``I cannot say what has befallen her since. Luud sent for
her.''

{}``Who is Luud? Where is he? Lead me to him.'' Gahan spoke quickly
in tones vibrant with authority.

{}``Come, then,'' said Ghek, leading the way from the apartment
and down a stairway toward the underground burrows of the kaldanes.
{}``Luud is my king. I will take you to his chambers.''

{}``Hasten!''\ urged Gahan.

{}``Sheathe your sword,'' warned Ghek, {}``so that should we pass
others of my kind I may say to them that you are a new prisoner with
some likelihood of winning their belief.''

Gahan did as he was bid, but warning the kaldane that his hand was
ever ready at his dagger's hilt.

{}``You need have no fear of treachery,'' said Ghek {}``My only
hope of life lies in you.''

{}``And if you fail me,'' Gahan admonished him, {}``I can promise
you as sure a death as even your king might guarantee you.''

Ghek made no reply, but moved rapidly through the winding subterranean
corridors until Gahan began to realize how truly was he in the hands
of this strange monster. If the fellow should prove false it would
profit Gahan nothing to slay him, since without his guidance the red
man might never hope to retrace his way to the tower and freedom.

Twice they met and were accosted by other kaldanes; but in both instances
Ghek's simple statement that he was taking a new prisoner to Luud
appeared to allay all suspicion, and then at last they came to the
ante-chamber of the king.

{}``Here, now, red man, thou must fight, if ever,'' whispered Ghek.
{}``Enter there!''\ and he pointed to a doorway before them.

{}``And you?''\ asked Gahan, still fearful of treachery.

{}``My rykor is powerful,'' replied the kaldane. {}``I shall accompany
you and fight at your side. As well die thus as in torture later at
the will of Luud. Come!''

But Gahan had already crossed the room and entered the chamber beyond.
Upon the opposite side of the room was a circular opening guarded
by two warriors. Beyond this opening he could see two figures struggling
upon the floor, and the fleeting glimpse he had of one of the faces
suddenly endowed him with the strength of ten warriors and the ferocity
of a wounded banth. It was Tara of Helium, fighting for her honor
or her life.

The warriors, startled by the unexpected appearance of a red man,
stood for a moment in dumb amazement, and in that moment Gahan of
Gathol was upon them, and one was down, a sword-thrust through its
heart.

{}``Strike at the heads,'' whispered the voice of Ghek in Gahan's
ear. The latter saw the head of the fallen warrior crawl quickly within
the aperture leading to the chamber where he had seen Tara of Helium
in the clutches of a headless body. Then the sword of Ghek struck
the kaldane of the remaining warrior from its rykor and Gahan ran
his sword through the repulsive head.

Instantly the red warrior leaped for the aperture, while close behind
him came Ghek.

{}``Look not upon the eyes of Luud,'' warned the kaldane, {}``or
you are lost.''

Within the chamber Gahan saw Tara of Helium in the clutches of a mighty
body, while close to the wall upon the opposite side of the apartment
crouched the hideous, spider-like Luud. Instantly the king realized
the menace to himself and sought to fasten his eyes upon the eyes
of Gahan, and in doing so he was forced to relax his concentration
upon the rykor in whose embraces Tara struggled, so that almost immediately
the girl found herself able to tear away from the awful, headless
thing.

As she rose quickly to her feet she saw for the first time the cause
of the interruption of Luud's plans. A red warrior! Her heart leaped
in rejoicing and thanksgiving. What miracle of fate had sent him to
her? She did not recognize him, though, this travel-worn warrior in
the plain harness which showed no single jewel. How could she have
guessed him the same as the scintillant creature of platinum and diamonds
that she had seen for a brief hour under such different circumstances
at the court of her august sire?

Luud saw Ghek following the strange warrior into the chamber. {}``Strike
him down, Ghek!''\ commanded the king. {}``Strike down the stranger
and your life shall be yours.''

Gahan glanced at the hideous face of the king.

{}``Seek not his eyes,'' screamed Tara in warning; but it was too
late. Already the horrid hypnotic gaze of the king kaldane had seized
upon the eyes of Gahan. The red warrior hesitated in his stride. His
sword point drooped slowly toward the floor. Tara glanced toward Ghek.
She saw the creature glaring with his expressionless eyes upon the
broad back of the stranger. She saw the hand of the creature's rykor
creeping stealthily toward the hilt of its dagger.

And then Tara of Helium raised her eyes aloft and poured forth the
notes of Mars' most beautiful melody, The Song of Love.

Ghek drew his dagger from its sheath. His eyes turned toward the singing
girl. Luud's glance wavered from the eyes of the man to the face of
Tara, and the instant that the latter's song distracted his attention
from his victim, Gahan of Gathol shook himself and as with a supreme
effort of will forced his eyes to the wall above Luud's hideous head.
Ghek raised his dagger above his right shoulder, took a single quick
step forward, and struck. The girl's song ended in a stifled scream
as she leaped forward with the evident intention of frustrating the
kaldane's purpose; but she was too late, and well it was, for an instant
later she realized the purpose of Ghek's act as she saw the dagger
fly from his hand, pass Gahan's shoulder, and sink full to the guard
in the soft face of Luud.

{}``Come!''\ cried the assassin, {}``we have no time to lose,''
and started for the aperture through which they had entered the chamber;
but in his stride he paused as his glance was arrested by the form
of the mighty rykor Iying prone upon the floor\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
king's rykor; the most beautiful, the most powerful, that the breeders
of Bantoom could produce. Ghek realized that in his escape he could
take with him but a single rykor, and there was none in Bantoom that
could give him better service than this giant Iying here. Quickly
he transferred himself to the shoulders of the great, inert hulk.
Instantly the latter was transformed to a sentient creature, filled
with pulsing life and alert energy.

{}``Now,'' said the kaldane, {}``we are ready. Let whoso would
revert to nothingness impede me.'' Even as he spoke he stooped and
crawled into the chamber beyond, while Gahan, taking Tara by the arm,
motioned her to follow. The girl looked him full in the eyes for the
first time. {}``The Gods of my people have been kind,'' she said;
{}``you came just in time. To the thanks of Tara of Helium shall
be added those of The Warlord of Barsoom and his people. Thy reward
shall surpass thy greatest desires.''

Gahan of Gathol saw that she did not recognize him, and quickly he
checked the warm greeting that had been upon his lips.

{}``Be thou Tara of Helium or another,'' he replied, {}``is immaterial,
to serve thus a red woman of Barsoom is in itself sufficient reward.''

As they spoke the girl was making her way through the aperture after
Ghek, and presently all three had quitted the apartments of Luud and
were moving rapidly along the winding corridors toward the tower.
Ghek repeatedly urged them to greater speed, but the red men of Barsoom
were never keen for retreat, and so the two that followed him moved
all too slowly for the kaldane.

{}``There are none to impede our progress,'' urged Gahan, {}``so
why tax the strength of the Princess by needless haste?''

{}``I fear not so much opposition ahead, for there are none there
who know the thing that has been done in Luud's chambers this night;
but the kaldane of one of the warriors who stood guard before Luud's
apartment escaped, and you may count it a truth that he lost no time
in seeking aid. That it did not come before we left is due solely
to the rapidity with which events transpired in the king's%
\footnote{I have used the word king in describing the rulers or chiefs of the
Bantoomian swarms, since the word itself is unpronounceable in English,
nor does jed or jeddak of the red Martian tongue have quite the same
meaning as the Bantoomian word, which has practically the same significance
as the English word queen as applied to the leader of a swarm of bees.\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]J.
C.%
} room. Long before we reach the tower they will be upon us from behind,
and that they will come in numbers far superior to ours and with great
and powerful rykors I well know.''

Nor was Ghek's prophecy long in fulfilment. Presently the sounds of
pursuit became audible in the distant clanking of accouterments and
the whistling call to arms of the kaldanes.

{}``The tower is but a short distance now,'' cried Ghek. {}``Make
haste while yet you may, and if we can barricade it until the sun
rises we may yet escape.''

{}``We shall need no barricades for we shall not linger in the tower,''
replied Gahan, moving more rapidly as he realized from the volume
of sound behind them the great number of their pursuers.

{}``But we may not go further than the tower tonight,'' insisted
Ghek. {}``Beyond the tower await the banths and certain death.''

Gahan smiled. {}``Fear not the banths,'' he assured them. {}``Can
we but reach the enclosure a little ahead of our pursuers we have
naught to fear from any evil power within this accursed valley.''

Ghek made no reply, nor did his expressionless face denote either
belief or skepticism. The girl looked into the face of the man questioningly.
She did not understand.

{}``Your flier,'' he said. {}``It is moored before the tower.''

Her face lighted with pleasure and relief. {}``You found it!''\ she
exclaimed. {}``What fortune!''

{}``It was fortune indeed,'' he replied. {}``Since it not only
told that you were a prisoner here; but it saved me from the banths
as I was crossing the valley from the hills to this tower into which
I saw them take you this afternoon after your brave attempt at escape.''

{}``How did you know it was I?''\ she asked, her puzzled brows
scanning his face as though she sought to recall from past memories
some scene in which he figured.

{}``Who is there but knows of the loss of the Princess Tara of Helium?''\ 
he replied. {}``And when I saw the device upon your flier I knew
at once, though I had not known when I saw you among them in the fields
a short time earlier. Too great was the distance for me to make certain
whether the captive was man or woman. Had chance not divulged the
hiding place of your flier I had gone my way, Tara of Helium. I shudder
to think how close was the chance at that. But for the momentary shining
of the sun upon the emblazoned device on the prow of your craft, I
had passed on unknowing.''

The girl shuddered. {}``The Gods sent you,'' she whispered reverently.

{}``The Gods sent me, Tara of Helium,'' he replied.

{}``But I do not recognize you,'' she said. {}``I have tried to
recall you, but I have failed. Your name, what may it be?''

{}``It is not strange that so great a princess should not recall
the face of every roving panthan of Barsoom,'' he replied with a
smile.

{}``But your name?''\ insisted the girl.

{}``Call me Turan,'' replied the man, for it had come to him that
if Tara of Helium recognized him as the man whose impetuous avowal
of love had angered her that day in the gardens of The Warlord, her
situation might be rendered infinitely less bearable than were she
to believe him a total stranger. Then, too, as a simple panthan%
\footnote{Soldier of Fortune; free-lance warrior.%
} he might win a greater degree of her confidence by his loyalty and
faithfulness and a place in her esteem that seemed to have been closed
to the resplendent Jed of Gathol.

They had reached the tower now, and as they entered it from the subterranean
corridor a backward glance revealed the van of their pursuers\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]hideous
kaldanes mounted upon swift and powerful rykors. As rapidly as might
be the three ascended the stairways leading to the ground level, but
after them, even more rapidly, came the minions of Luud. Ghek led
the way, grasping one of Tara's hands the more easily to guide and
assist her, while Gahan of Gathol followed a few paces in their rear,
his bared sword ready for the assault that all realized must come
upon them now before ever they reached the enclosure and the flier.

{}``Let Ghek drop behind to your side,'' said Tara, {}``and fight
with you.''

{}``There is but room for a single blade in these narrow corridors,''
replied the Gatholian. {}``Hasten on with Ghek and win to the deck
of the flier. Have your hand upon the control, and if I come far enough
ahead of these to reach the dangling cable you can rise at my word
and I can clamber to the deck at my leisure; but if one of them emerges
first into the enclosure you will know that I shall never come, and
you will rise quickly and trust to the Gods of our ancestors to give
you a fair breeze in the direction of a more hospitable people.''

Tara of Helium shook her head. {}``We will not desert you, panthan,''
she said.

Gahan, ignoring her reply, spoke above her head to Ghek. {}``Take
her to the craft moored within the enclosure,'' he commanded. {}``It
is our only hope. Alone, I may win to its deck; but have I to wait
upon you two at the last moment the chances are that none of us will
escape. Do as I bid.'' His tone was haughty and arrogant\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the
tone of a man who has commanded other men from birth, and whose will
has been law. Tara of Helium was both angered and vexed. She was not
accustomed to being either commanded or ignored, but with all her
royal pride she was no fool, and she knew the man was right, that
he was risking his life to save hers, so she hastened on with Ghek
as she was bid, and after the first flush of anger she smiled, for
the realization came to her that this fellow was but a rough untutored
warrior, skilled not in the finer usages of cultured courts. His heart
was right, though; a brave and loyal heart, and gladly she forgave
him the offense of his tone and manner. But what a tone! Recollection
of it gave her sudden pause. Panthans were rough and ready men. Often
they rose to positions of high command, so it was not the note of
authority in the fellow's voice that seemed remarkable; but something
else\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a quality that was indefinable, yet as
distinct as it was familiar. She had heard it before when the voice
of her great-grandsire, Tardos Mors, Jeddak of Helium, had risen in
command; and in the voice of her grandfather, Mors Kajak, the jed;
and in the ringing tones of her illustrious sire, John Carter, Warlord
of Barsoom, when he addressed his warriors.

But now she had no time to speculate upon so trivial a thing, for
behind her came the sudden clash of arms and she knew that Turan,
the panthan, had crossed swords with the first of their pursuers.
As she glanced back he was still visible beyond a turn in the stairway,
so that she could see the quick swordplay that ensued. Daughter of
a world's greatest swordsman, she knew well the finest points of the
art. She saw the clumsy attack of the kaldane and the quick, sure
return of the panthan. As she looked down from above upon his almost
naked body, trapped only in the simplest of unadorned harness, and
saw the play of the lithe muscles beneath the red-bronze skin, and
witnessed the quick and delicate play of his sword point, to her sense
of obligation was added a spontaneous admission of admiration that
was but the natural tribute of a woman to skill and bravery and, perchance,
some trifle to manly symmetry and strength.

Three times the panthan's blade changed its position\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]once
to fend a savage cut; once to feint; and once to thrust. And as he
withdrew it from the last position the kaldane rolled lifeless from
its stumbling rykor and Turan sprang quickly down the steps to engage
the next behind, and then Ghek had drawn Tara upward and a turn in
the stairway shut the battling panthan from her view; but still she
heard the ring of steel on steel, the clank of accouterments and the
shrill whistling of the kaldanes. Her heart moved her to turn back
to the side of her brave defender; but her judgment told her that
she could serve him best by being ready at the control of the flier
at the moment he reached the enclosure.


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER IX. ADRIFT OVER STRANGE REGIONS}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER IX.\\
ADRIFT OVER STRANGE REGIONS}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{ADRIFT OVER STRANGE REGIONS}

\textit{\emph{Presently}} Ghek pushed aside a door that opened from
the stairway, and before them Tara saw the moonlight flooding the
walled court where the headless rykors lay beside their feeding-troughs.
She saw the perfect bodies, muscled as the best of her father's fighting
men, and the females whose figures would have been the envy of many
of Helium's most beautiful women. Ah, if she could but endow these
with the power to act! Then indeed might the safety of the panthan
be assured; but they were only poor lumps of clay, nor had she the
power to quicken them to life. Ever must they lie thus until dominated
by the cold, heartless brain of the kaldane. The girl sighed in pity
even as she shuddered in disgust as she picked her way over and among
the sprawled creatures toward the flier.

Quickly she and Ghek mounted to the deck after the latter had cast
off the moorings. Tara tested the control, raising and lowering the
ship a few feet within the walled space. It responded perfectly. Then
she lowered it to the ground again and waited. From the open doorway
came the sounds of conflict, now nearing them, now receding. The girl,
having witnessed her champion's skill, had little fear of the outcome.
Only a single antagonist could face him at a time upon the narrow
stairway, he had the advantage of position and of the defensive, and
he was a master of the sword while they were clumsy bunglers by comparison.
Their sole advantage was in their numbers, unless they might find
a way to come upon him from behind.

She paled at the thought. Could she have seen him she might have been
further perturbed, for he took no advantage of many opportunities
to win nearer the enclosure. He fought coolly, but with a savage persistence
that bore little semblance to purely defensive action. Often he clambered
over the body of a fallen foe to leap against the next behind, and
once there lay five dead kaldanes behind him, so far had he pushed
back his antagonists. They did not know it; these kaldanes that he
fought, nor did the girl awaiting him upon the flier, but Gahan of
Gathol was engaged in a more alluring sport than winning to freedom,
for he was avenging the indignities that had been put upon the woman
he loved; but presently he realized that he might be jeopardizing
her safety uselessly, and so he struck down another before him and
turning leaped quickly up the stairway, while the leading kaldanes
slipped upon the brain-covered floor and stumbled in pursuit.

Gahan reached the enclosure twenty paces ahead of them and raced toward
the flier. {}``Rise!''\ he shouted to the girl. {}``I will ascend
the cable.''

Slowly the small craft rose from the ground as Gahan leaped the inert
bodies of the rykors lying in his path. The first of the pursuers
sprang from the tower just as Gahan seized the trailing rope.

{}``Faster!''\ he shouted to the girl above, {}``or they will
drag us down!''\ But the ship seemed scarcely to move, though in
reality she was rising as rapidly as might have been expected of a
one-man flier carrying a load of three. Gahan swung free above the
top of the wall, but the end of the rope still dragged the ground
as the kaldanes reached it. They were pouring in a steady stream from
the tower into the enclosure. The leader seized the rope.

{}``Quick!''\ he cried. {}``Lay hold and we will drag them down.''

It needed but the weight of a few to accomplish his design. The ship
was stopped in its flight and then, to the horror of the girl, she
felt it being dragged steadily downward. Gahan, too, realized the
danger and the necessity for instant action. Clinging to the rope
with his left hand, he had wound a leg about it, leaving his right
hand free for his long-sword which he had not sheathed. A downward
cut clove the soft head of a kaldane, and another severed the taut
rope beneath the panthan's feet. The girl heard a sudden renewal of
the shrill whistling of her foes, and at the same time she realized
that the craft was rising again. Slowly it drifted upward, out of
reach of the enemy, and a moment later she saw the figure of Turan
clamber over the side. For the first time in many weeks her heart
was filled with the joy of thanksgiving; but her first thought was
of another.

{}``You are not wounded?''\ she asked.

{}``No, Tara of Helium,'' he replied. {}``They were scarce worth
the effort of my blade, and never were they a menace to me because
of their swords.''

{}``They should have slain you easily,'' said Ghek. {}``So great
and highly developed is the power of reason among us that they should
have known before you struck just where, logically, you must seek
to strike, and so they should have been able to parry your every thrust
and easily find an opening to your heart.''

{}``But they did not, Ghek,'' Gahan reminded him. {}``Their theory
of development is wrong, for it does not tend toward a perfectly balanced
whole. You have developed the brain and neglected the body and you
can never do with the hands of another what you can do with your own
hands. Mine are trained to the sword\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]every
muscle responds instantly and accurately, and almost mechanically,
to the need of the instant. I am scarcely objectively aware that I
think when I fight, so quickly does my point take advantage of every
opening, or spring to my defense if I am threatened that it is almost
as though the cold steel had eyes and brains. You, with your kaldane
brain and your rykor body, never could hope to achieve in the same
degree of perfection those things that I can achieve. Development
of the brain should not be the sum total of human endeavor. The richest
and happiest peoples will be those who attain closest to well-balanced
perfection of both mind and body, and even these must always be short
of perfection. In absolute and general perfection lies stifling monotony
and death. Nature must have contrasts; she must have shadows as well
as high lights; sorrow with happiness; both wrong and right; and sin
as well as virtue.''

{}``Always have I been taught differently,'' replied Ghek; {}``but
since I have known this woman and you, of another race, I have come
to believe that there may be other standards fully as high and desirable
as those of the kaldanes. At least I have had a glimpse of the thing
you call happiness and I realize that it may be good even though I
have no means of expressing it. I cannot laugh nor smile, and yet
within me is a sense of contentment when this woman sings\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
sense that seems to open before me wondrous vistas of beauty and unguessed
pleasure that far transcend the cold joys of a perfectly functioning
brain. I would that I had been born of thy race.''

Caught by a gentle current of air the flier was drifting slowly toward
the northeast across the valley of Bantoom. Below them lay the cultivated
fields, and one after another they passed over the strange towers
of Moak and Nolach and the other kings of the swarms that inhabited
this weird and terrible land. Within each enclosure surrounding the
towers grovelled the rykors, repellent, headless things, beautiful
yet hideous.

{}``A lesson, those,'' remarked Gahan, indicating the rykors in
an enclosure above which they were drifting at the time, {}``to that
fortunately small minority of our race which worships the flesh and
makes a god of appetite. You know them, Tara of Helium; they can tell
you exactly what they had at the midday meal two weeks ago, and how
the loin of the thoat should be prepared, and what drink should be
served with the rump of the zitidar.''

Tara of Helium laughed. {}``But not one of them could tell you the
name of the man whose painting took the Jeddak's Award in The Temple
of Beauty this year,'' she said. {}``Like the rykors, their development
has not been balanced.''

{}``Fortunate indeed are those in which there is combined a little
good and a little bad, a little knowledge of many things outside their
own callings, a capacity for love and a capacity for hate, for such
as these can look with tolerance upon all, unbiased by the egotism
of him whose head is so heavy on one side that all his brains run
to that point.''

As Gahan ceased speaking Ghek made a little noise in his throat as
one does who would attract attention. {}``You speak as one who has
thought much upon many subjects. Is it, then, possible that you of
the red race have pleasure in thought? Do you know aught of the joys
of introspection? Do reason and logic form any part of your lives?''

{}``Most assuredly,'' replied Gahan, {}``but not to the extent
of occupying all our time\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]at least not objectively.
You, Ghek, are an example of the egotism of which I spoke. Because
you and your kind devote your lives to the worship of mind, you believe
that no other created beings think. And possibly we do not in the
sense that you do, who think only of yourselves and your great brains.
We think of many things that concern the welfare of a world. Had it
not been for the red men of Barsoom even the kaldanes had perished
from the planet, for while you may live without air the things upon
which you depend for existence cannot, and there had been no air in
sufficient quantities upon Barsoom these many ages had not a red man
planned and built the great atmosphere plant which gave new life to
a dying world.

{}``What have all the brains of all the kaldanes that have ever lived
done to compare with that single idea of a single red man?''

Ghek was stumped. Being a kaldane he knew that brains spelled the
sum total of universal achievement, but it had never occurred to him
that they should be put to use in practical and profitable ways. He
turned away and looked down upon the valley of his ancestors across
which he was slowly drifting, into what unknown world? He should be
a veritable god among the underlings, he knew; but somehow a doubt
assailed him. It was evident that these two from that other world
were ready to question his preeminence. Even through his great egotism
was filtering a suspicion that they patronized him; perhaps even pitied
him. Then he began to wonder what was to become of him. No longer
would he have many rykors to do his bidding. Only this single one
and when it died there could not be another. When it tired, Ghek must
lie almost helpless while it rested. He wished that he had never seen
this red woman. She had brought him only discontent and dishonor and
now exile. Presently Tara of Helium commenced to hum a tune and Ghek,
the kaldane, was content.

Gently they drifted beneath the hurtling moons above the mad shadows
of a Martian night. The roaring of the banths came in diminishing
volume to their ears as their craft passed on beyond the boundaries
of Bantoom, leaving behind the terrors of that unhappy land. But to
what were they being borne? The girl looked at the man sitting cross-legged
upon the deck of the tiny flier, gazing off into the night ahead,
apparently absorbed in thought.

{}``Where are we?''\ she asked. {}``Toward what are we drifting?''

Turan shrugged his broad shoulders. {}``The stars tell me that we
are drifting toward the northeast,'' he replied, {}``but where we
are, or what lies in our path I cannot even guess. A week since I
could have sworn that I knew what lay behind each succeeding ridge
that I approached; but now I admit in all humility that I have no
conception of what lies a mile in any direction. Tara of Helium, I
am lost, and that is all that I can tell you.''

He was smiling and the girl smiled back at him. There was a slightly
puzzled expression on her face\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]there was something
tantalizingly familiar about that smile of his. She had met many a
panthan\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]they came and went, following the
fighting of a world\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]but she could not place
this one.

{}``From what country are you, Turan?''\ she asked suddenly.

{}``Know you not, Tara of Helium,'' he countered, {}``that a panthan
has no country? Today he fights beneath the banner of one master,
tomorrow beneath that of another.''

{}``But you must own allegiance to some country when you are not
fighting,'' she insisted. {}``What banner, then, owns you now?''

He rose and stood before her, then, bowing low. {}``An I am acceptable,''
he said, {}``I serve beneath the banner of the daughter of The Warlord
now\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and forever.''

She reached forth and touched his arm with a slim brown hand. {}``Your
services are accepted,'' she said; {}``and if ever we reach Helium
I promise that your reward shall be all that your heart could desire.''

{}``I shall serve faithfully, hoping for that reward,'' he said;
but Tara of Helium did not guess what was in his mind, thinking rather
that he was mercenary. For how could the proud daughter of The Warlord
guess that a simple panthan aspired to her hand and heart?

The dawn found them moving rapidly over an unfamiliar landscape. The
wind had increased during the night and had borne them far from Bantoom.
The country below them was rough and inhospitable. No water was visible
and the surface of the ground was cut by deep gorges, while nowhere
was any but the most meager vegetation discernible. They saw no life
of any nature, nor was there any indication that the country could
support life. For two days they drifted over this horrid wasteland.
They were without food or water and suffered accordingly. Ghek had
temporarily abandoned his rykor after enlisting Turan's assistance
in lashing it safely to the deck. The less he used it the less would
its vitality be spent. Already it was showing the effects of privation.
Ghek crawled about the vessel like a great spider\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]over
the side, down beneath the keel, and up over the opposite rail. He
seemed equally at home one place as another. For his companions, however,
the quarters were cramped, for the deck of a one-man flier is not
intended for three.

Turan sought always ahead for signs of water. Water they must have,
or that water-giving plant which makes life possible upon many of
the seemingly arid areas of Mars; but there was neither the one nor
the other for these two days and now the third night was upon them.
The girl did not complain, but Turan knew that she must be suffering
and his heart was heavy within him. Ghek suffered least of all, and
he explained to them that his kind could exist for long periods without
food or water. Turan almost cursed him as he saw the form of Tara
of Helium slowly wasting away before his eyes, while the hideous kaldane
seemed as full of vitality as ever.

{}``There are circumstances,'' remarked Ghek, {}``under which a
gross and material body is less desirable than a highly developed
brain.''

Turan looked at him, but said nothing. Tara of Helium smiled faintly.
{}``One cannot blame him,'' she said, {}``were we not a bit boastful
in the pride of our superiority? When our stomachs were filled,''
she added.

{}``Perhaps there is something to be said for their system,'' Turan
admitted. {}``If we could but lay aside our stomachs when they cried
for food and water I have no doubt but that we should do so.''

{}``I should never miss mine now,'' assented Tara; {}``it is mighty
poor company.''

A new day had dawned, revealing a less desolate country and renewing
again the hope that had been low within them. Suddenly Turan leaned
forward, pointing ahead.

{}``Look, Tara of Helium!''\ he cried. {}``A city! As I am Ga\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]as
I am Turan the panthan, a city.''

Far in the distance the domes and walls and slender towers of a city
shone in the rising sun. Quickly the man seized the control and the
ship dropped rapidly behind a low range of intervening hills, for
well Turan knew that they must not be seen until they could discover
whether friend or foe inhabited the strange city. Chances were that
they were far from the abode of friends and so must the panthan move
with the utmost caution; but there was a city and where a city was,
was water, even though it were a deserted city, and food if it were
inhabited.

To the red man food and water, even in the citadel of an enemy, meant
food and drink for Tara of Helium. He would accept it from friends
or he would take it from enemies. Just so long as it was there he
would have it\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and there was shown the egotism
of the fighting man, though Turan did not see it, nor Tara who came
from a long line of fighting men; but Ghek might have smiled had he
known how.

Turan permitted the flier to drift closer behind the screening hills,
and then when he could advance no farther without fear of discovery,
he dropped the craft gently to ground in a little ravine, and leaping
over the side made her fast to a stout tree. For several moments they
discussed their plans\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]whether it would be
best to wait where they were until darkness hid their movements and
then approach the city in search of food and water, or approach it
now, taking advantage of what cover they could, until they could glean
something of the nature of its inhabitants.

It was Turan's plan which finally prevailed. They would approach as
close as safety dictated in the hope of finding water outside the
city; food, too, perhaps. If they did not they could at least reconnoiter
the ground by daylight, and then when night came Turan could quickly
come close to the city and in comparative safety prosecute his search
for food and drink.

Following the ravine upward they finally topped the summit of the
ridge, from which they had an excellent view of that part of the city
which lay nearest them, though themselves hidden by the brush behind
which they crouched. Ghek had resumed his rykor, which had suffered
less than either Tara or Turan through their enforced fast.

The first glance at the city, now much closer than when they had first
discovered it, revealed the fact that it was inhabited. Banners and
pennons broke from many a staff. People were moving about the gate
before them. The high white walls were paced by sentinels at far intervals.
Upon the roofs of higher buildings the women could be seen airing
the sleeping silks and furs. Turan watched it all in silence for some
time.

{}``I do not know them,'' he said at last. {}``I cannot guess what
city this may be. But it is an ancient city. Its people have no fliers
and no firearms. It must be old indeed.''

{}``How do you know they have not these things?''\ asked the girl.

{}``There are no landing-stages upon the roofs\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]not
one that can be seen from here; while were we looking similarly at
Helium we would see hundreds. And they have no firearms because their
defenses are all built to withstand the attack of spear and arrow,
with spear and arrow. They are an ancient people.''

{}``If they are ancient perhaps they are friendly,'' suggested the
girl. {}``Did we not learn as children in the history of our planet
that it was once peopled by a friendly, peace-loving race?''

{}``But I fear they are not as ancient as that,'' replied Turan,
laughing. {}``It has been long ages since the men of Barsoom loved
peace.''

{}``My father loves peace,'' returned the girl.

{}``And yet he is always at war,'' said the man.

She laughed. {}``But he says he likes peace.''

{}``We all like peace,'' he rejoined; {}``peace with honor; but
our neighbors will not let us have it, and so we must fight.''

{}``And to fight well men must like to fight,'' she added.

{}``And to like to fight they must know how to fight,'' he said,
{}``for no man likes to do the thing that he does not know how to
do well.''

{}``Or that some other man can do better than he.''

{}``And so always there will be wars and men will fight,'' he concluded,
{}``for always the men with hot blood in their veins will practice
the art of war.''

{}``We have settled a great question,'' said the girl, smiling;
{}``but our stomachs are still empty.''

{}``Your panthan is neglecting his duty,'' replied Turan; {}``and
how can he with the great reward always before his eyes!''

She did not guess in what literal a sense he spoke.

{}``I go forthwith,'' he continued, {}``to wrest food and drink
from the ancients.''

{}``No,'' she cried, laying a hand upon his arm, {}``not yet. They
would slay you or make you prisoner. You are a brave panthan and a
mighty one, but you cannot overcome a city singlehanded.''

She smiled up into his face and her hand still lay upon his arm. He
felt the thrill of hot blood coursing through his veins. He could
have seized her in his arms and crushed her to him. There was only
Ghek the kaldane there, but there was something stronger within him
that restrained his hand. Who may define it\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]that
inherent chivalry that renders certain men the natural protectors
of women?

From their vantage point they saw a body of armed warriors ride forth
from the gate, and winding along a well-beaten road pass from sight
about the foot of the hill from which they watched. The men were red,
like themselves, and they rode the small saddle thoats of the red
race. Their trappings were barbaric and magnificent, and in their
head-dress were many feathers as had been the custom of ancients.
They were armed with swords and long spears and they rode almost naked,
their bodies being painted in ochre and blue and white. There were,
perhaps, a score of them in the party and as they galloped away on
their tireless mounts they presented a picture at once savage and
beautiful.

{}``They have the appearance of splendid warriors,'' said Turan.
{}``I have a great mind to walk boldly into their city and seek service.''

Tara shook her head. {}``Wait,'' she admonished. {}``What would
I do without you, and if you were captured how could you collect your
reward?''

{}``I should escape,'' he said. {}``At any rate I shall try it,''
and he started to rise.

{}``You shall not,'' said the girl, her tone all authority.

The man looked at her quickly\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]questioningly.

{}``You have entered my service,'' she said, a trifle haughtily.
{}``You have entered my service for hire and you shall do as I bid
you.''

Turan sank down beside her again with a half smile upon his lips.

{}``It is yours to command, Princess,'' he said.

The day passed. Ghek, tiring of the sunlight, had deserted his rykor
and crawled down a hole he had discovered close by. Tara and Turan
reclined beneath the scant shade of a small tree. They watched the
people coming and going through the gate. The party of horsemen did
not return. A small herd of zitidars was driven into the city during
the day, and once a caravan of broad-wheeled carts drawn by these
huge animals wound out of the distant horizon and came down to the
city. It, too, passed from their sight within the gateway. Then darkness
came and Tara of Helium bid her panthan search for food and drink;
but she cautioned him against attempting to enter the city. Before
he left her he bent and kissed her hand as a warrior may kiss the
hand of his queen.


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER X. ENTRAPPED}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER X.\\
ENTRAPPED}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{ENTRAPPED}

\textit{\emph{Turan}} the panthan approached the strange city under
cover of the darkness. He entertained little hope of finding either
food or water outside the wall, but he would try and then, if he failed,
he would attempt to make his way into the city, for Tara of Helium
must have sustenance and have it soon. He saw that the walls were
poorly sentineled, but they were sufficiently high to render an attempt
to scale them foredoomed to failure. Taking advantage of underbrush
and trees, Turan managed to reach the base of the wall without detection.
Silently he moved north past the gateway which was closed by a massive
gate which effectively barred even the slightest glimpse within the
city beyond. It was Turan's hope to find upon the north side of the
city away from the hills a level plain where grew the crops of the
inhabitants, and here too water from their irrigating system, but
though he traveled far along that seemingly interminable wall he found
no fields nor any water. He searched also for some means of ingress
to the city, yet here, too, failure was his only reward, and now as
he went keen eyes watched him from above and a silent stalker kept
pace with him for a time upon the summit of the wall; but presently
the shadower descended to the pavement within and hurrying swiftly
raced ahead of the stranger without.

He came presently to a small gate beside which was a low building
and before the doorway of the building a warrior standing guard. He
spoke a few quick words to the warrior and then entered the building
only to return almost immediately to the street, followed by fully
forty warriors. Cautiously opening the gate the fellow peered carefully
along the wall upon the outside in the direction from which he had
come. Evidently satisfied, he issued a few words of instruction to
those behind him, whereupon half the warriors returned to the interior
of the building, while the other half followed the man stealthily
through the gateway where they crouched low among the shrubbery in
a half circle just north of the gateway which they had left open.
Here they waited in utter silence, nor had they long to wait before
Turan the panthan came cautiously along the base of the wall. To the
very gate he came and when he found it and that it was open he paused
for a moment, listening; then he approached and looked within. Assured
that there was none within sight to apprehend him he stepped through
the gateway into the city.

He found himself in a narrow street that paralleled the wall. Upon
the opposite side rose buildings of an architecture unknown to him,
yet strangely beautiful. While the buildings were packed closely together
there seemed to be no two alike and their fronts were of all shapes
and heights and of many hues. The skyline was broken by spire and
dome and minaret and tall, slender towers, while the walls supported
many a balcony and in the soft light of Cluros, the farther moon,
now low in the west, he saw, to his surprise and consternation, the
figures of people upon the balconies. Directly opposite him were two
women and a man. They sat leaning upon the rail of the balcony looking,
apparently, directly at him; but if they saw him they gave no sign.

Turan hesitated a moment in the face of almost certain discovery and
then, assured that they must take him for one of their own people,
he moved boldly into the avenue. Having no idea of the direction in
which he might best hope to find what he sought, and not wishing to
arouse suspicion by further hesitation, he turned to the left and
stepped briskly along the pavement with the intention of placing himself
as quickly as possible beyond the observation of those nocturnal watchers.
He knew that the night must be far spent; and so he could not but
wonder why people should sit upon their balconies when they should
have been asleep among their silks and furs. At first he had thought
them the late guests of some convivial host; but the windows behind
them were shrouded in darkness and utter quiet prevailed, quite upsetting
such a theory. And as he proceeded he passed many another group sitting
silently upon other balconies. They paid no attention to him, seeming
not even to note his passing. Some leaned with a single elbow upon
the rail, their chins resting in their palms; others leaned upon both
arms across the balcony, looking down into the street, while several
that he saw held musical instruments in their hands, but their fingers
moved not upon the strings.

And then Turan came to a point where the avenue turned to the right,
to skirt a building that jutted from the inside of the city wall,
and as he rounded the corner he came full upon two warriors standing
upon either side of the entrance to a building upon his right. It
was impossible for them not to be aware of his presence, yet neither
moved, nor gave other evidence that they had seen him. He stood there
waiting, his hand upon the hilt of his long-sword, but they neither
challenged nor halted him. Could it be that these also thought him
one of their own kind? Indeed upon no other grounds could he explain
their inaction.

As Turan had passed through the gateway into the city and taken his
unhindered way along the avenue, twenty warriors had entered the city
and closed the gate behind them, and then one had taken to the wall
and followed along its summit in the rear of Turan, and another had
followed him along the avenue, while a third had crossed the street
and entered one of the buildings upon the opposite side.

The balance of them, with the exception of a single sentinel beside
the gate, had re-entered the building from which they had been summoned.
They were well built, strapping, painted fellows, their naked figures
covered now by gorgeous robes against the chill of night. As they
spoke of the stranger they laughed at the ease with which they had
tricked him, and were still laughing as they threw themselves upon
their sleeping silks and furs to resume their broken slumber. It was
evident that they constituted a guard detailed for the gate beside
which they slept, and it was equally evident that the gates were guarded
and the city watched much more carefully than Turan had believed.
Chagrined indeed had been the Jed of Gathol had he dreamed that he
was being so neatly tricked.

As Turan proceeded along the avenue he passed other sentries beside
other doors but now he gave them small heed, since they neither challenged
nor otherwise outwardly noted his passing; but while at nearly every
turn of the erratic avenue he passed one or more of these silent sentinels
he could not guess that he had passed one of them many times and that
his every move was watched by silent, clever stalkers. Scarce had
he passed a certain one of these rigid guardsmen before the fellow
awoke to sudden life, bounded across the avenue, entered a narrow
opening in the outer wall where he swiftly followed a corridor built
within the wall itself until presently he emerged a little distance
ahead of Turan, where he assumed the stiff and silent attitude of
a soldier upon guard. Nor did Turan know that a second followed in
the shadows of the buildings behind him, nor of the third who hastened
ahead of him upon some urgent mission.

And so the panthan moved through the silent streets of the strange
city in search of food and drink for the woman he loved. Men and women
looked down upon him from shadowy balconies, but spoke not; and sentinels
saw him pass and did not challenge. Presently from along the avenue
before him came the familiar sound of clanking accouterments, the
herald of marching warriors, and almost simultaneously he saw upon
his right an open doorway dimly lighted from within. It was the only
available place where he might seek to hide from the approaching company,
and while he had passed several sentries unquestioned he could scarce
hope to escape scrutiny and questioning from a patrol, as he naturally
assumed this body of men to be.

Inside the doorway he discovered a passage turning abruptly to the
right and almost immediately thereafter to the left. There was none
in sight within and so he stepped cautiously around the second turn
the more effectually to be hidden from the street. Before him stretched
a long corridor, dimly lighted like the entrance. Waiting there he
heard the party approach the building, he heard someone at the entrance
to his hiding place, and then he heard the door past which he had
come slam to. He laid his hand upon his sword, expecting momentarily
to hear footsteps approaching along the corridor; but none came. He
approached the turn and looked around it; the corridor was empty to
the closed door. Whoever had closed it had remained upon the outside.

Turan waited, listening. He heard no sound. Then he advanced to the
door and placed an ear against it. All was silence in the street beyond.
A sudden draft must have closed the door, or perhaps it was the duty
of the patrol to see to such things. It was immaterial. They had evidently
passed on and now he would return to the street and continue upon
his way. Somewhere there would be a public fountain where he could
obtain water, and the chance of food lay in the strings of dried vegetables
and meat which hung before the doorways of nearly every Barsoomian
home of the poorer classes that he had ever seen. It was this district
he was seeking, and it was for this reason his search had led him
away from the main gate of the city which he knew would not be located
in a poor district.

He attempted to open the door only to find that it resisted his every
effort\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]it was locked upon the outside. Here
indeed was a sorry \emph{contretemps}. Turan the panthan scratched
his head. {}``Fortune frowns upon me,'' he murmured; but beyond
the door, Fate, in the form of a painted warrior, stood smiling. Neatly
had he tricked the unwary stranger. The lighted doorway, the marching
patrol\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]these had been planned and timed to
a nicety by the third warrior who had sped ahead of Turan along another
avenue, and the stranger had done precisely what the fellow had thought
he would do\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]no wonder, then, that he smiled.

This exit barred to him Turan turned back into the corridor. He followed
it cautiously and silently. Occasionally there was a door on one side
or the other. These he tried only to find each securely locked. The
corridor wound more erratically the farther he advanced. A locked
door barred his way at its end, but a door upon his right opened and
he stepped into a dimly-lighted chamber, about the walls of which
were three other doors, each of which he tried in turn. Two were locked;
the other opened upon a runway leading downward. It was spiral and
he could see no farther than the first turn. A door in the corridor
he had quitted opened after he had passed, and the third warrior stepped
out and followed after him. A faint smile still lingered upon the
fellow's grim lips.

Turan drew his short-sword and cautiously descended. At the bottom
was a short corridor with a closed door at the end. He approached
the single heavy panel and listened. No sound came to him from beyond
the mysterious portal. Gently he tried the door, which swung easily
toward him at his touch. Before him was a low-ceiled chamber with
a dirt floor. Set in its walls were several other doors and all were
closed. As Turan stepped cautiously within, the third warrior descended
the spiral runway behind him. The panthan crossed the room quickly
and tried a door. It was locked. He heard a muffled click behind him
and turned about with ready sword. He was alone; but the door through
which he had entered was closed\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]it was the
click of its lock that he had heard.

With a bound he crossed the room and attempted to open it; but to
no avail. No longer did he seek silence, for he knew now that the
thing had gone beyond the sphere of chance. He threw his weight against
the wooden panel; but the thick skeel of which it was constructed
would have withstood a battering ram. From beyond came a low laugh.

Rapidly Turan examined each of the other doors. They were all locked.
A glance about the chamber revealed a wooden table and a bench. Set
in the walls were several heavy rings to which rusty chains were attached\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]all
too significant of the purpose to which the room was dedicated. In
the dirt floor near the wall were two or three holes resembling the
mouths of burrows\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]doubtless the habitat of
the giant Martian rat. He had observed this much when suddenly the
dim light was extinguished, leaving him in darkness utter and complete.
Turan, groping about, sought the table and the bench. Placing the
latter against the wall he drew the table in front of him and sat
down upon the bench, his long-sword gripped in readiness before him.
At least they should fight before they took him.

For some time he sat there waiting for he knew not what. No sound
penetrated to his subterranean dungeon. He slowly revolved in his
mind the incidents of the evening\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the open,
unguarded gate; the lighted doorway\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the only
one he had seen thus open and lighted along the avenue he had followed;
the advance of the warriors at precisely the moment that he could
find no other avenue of escape or concealment; the corridors and chambers
that led past many locked doors to this underground prison leaving
no other path for him to pursue.

{}``By my first ancestor!''\ he swore; {}``but it was simple and
I a simpleton. They tricked me neatly and have taken me without exposing
themselves to a scratch; but for what purpose?''

He wished that he might answer that question and then his thoughts
turned to the girl waiting there on the hill beyond the city for him\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and
he would never come. He knew the ways of the more savage peoples of
Barsoom. No, he would never come, now. He had disobeyed her. He smiled
at the sweet recollection of those words of command that had fallen
from her dear lips. He had disobeyed her and now he had lost the reward.

But what of her? What now would be her fate\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]starving
before a hostile city with only an inhuman kaldane for company? Another
thought\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a horrid thought\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]obtruded
itself upon him. She had told him of the hideous sights she had witnessed
in the burrows of the kaldanes and he knew that they ate human flesh.
Ghek was starving. Should he eat his rykor he would be helpless; but\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]there
was sustenance there for them both, for the rykor and the kaldane.
Turan cursed himself for a fool. Why had he left her? Far better to
have remained and died with her, ready always to protect her, than
to have left her at the mercy of the hideous Bantoomian.

Now Turan detected a heavy odor in the air. It oppressed him with
a feeling of drowsiness. He would have risen to fight off the creeping
lethargy, but his legs seemed weak, so that he sank again to the bench.
Presently his sword slipped from his fingers and he sprawled forward
upon the table his head resting upon his arms.

\bigskip{}
Tara of Helium, as the night wore on and Turan did not return, became
more and more uneasy, and when dawn broke with no sign of him she
guessed that he had failed. Something more than her own unhappy predicament
brought a feeling of sorrow to her heart\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]of
sorrow and loneliness. She realized now how she had come to depend
upon this panthan not only for protection but for companionship as
well. She missed him, and in missing him realized suddenly that he
had meant more to her than a mere hired warrior. It was as though
a friend had been taken from her\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]an old and
valued friend. She rose from her place of concealment that she might
have a better view of the city.

U-Dor, dwar of the 8th Utan of O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator, rode back
in the early dawn toward Manator from a brief excursion to a neighboring
village. As he was rounding the hills south of the city, his keen
eyes were attracted by a slight movement among the shrubbery close
to the summit of the nearest hill. He halted his vicious mount and
watched more closely. He saw a figure rise facing away from him and
peer down toward Manator beyond the hill.

{}``Come!''\ he signalled to his followers, and with a word to
this thoat turned the beast at a rapid gallop up the hillside. In
his wake swept his twenty savage warriors, the padded feet of their
mounts soundless upon the soft turf. It was the rattle of sidearms
and harness that brought Tara of Helium suddenly about, facing them.
She saw a score of warriors with couched lances bearing down upon
her.

She glanced at Ghek. What would the spiderman do in this emergency?
She saw him crawl to his rykor and attach himself. Then he arose,
the beautiful body once again animated and alert. She thought that
the creature was preparing for flight. Well, it made little difference
to her. Against such as were streaming up the hill toward them a single
mediocre swordsman such as Ghek was worse than no defense at all.

{}``Hurry, Ghek!''\ she admonished him. {}``Back into the hills!
You may find there a hiding-place;'' but the creature only stepped
between her and the oncoming riders, drawing his long-sword.

{}``It is useless, Ghek,'' she said, when she saw that he intended
to defend her. {}``What can a single sword accomplish against such
odds?''

{}``I can die but once,'' replied the kaldane. {}``You and your
panthan saved me from Luud and I but do what your panthan would do
were he here to protect you.''

{}``It is brave, but it is useless,'' she replied. {}``Sheathe
your sword. They may not intend us harm.''

Ghek let the point of his weapon drop to the ground, but he did not
sheathe it, and thus the two stood waiting as U-Dor the dwar stopped
his thoat before them while his twenty warriors formed a rough circle
about. For a long minute U-Dor sat his mount in silence, looking searchingly
first at Tara of Helium and then at her hideous companion.

{}``What manner of creature are you?''\ he asked presently. {}``And
what do you before the gates of Manator?''

{}``We are from far countries,'' replied the girl, {}``and we are
lost and starving. We ask only food and rest and the privilege to
go our way seeking our own homes.''

U-Dor smiled a grim smile. {}``Manator and the hills which guard
it alone know the age of Manator,'' he said; {}``yet in all the
ages that have rolled by since Manator first was, there be no record
in the annals of Manator of a stranger departing from Manator.''

{}``But I am a princess,'' cried the girl haughtily, {}``and my
country is not at war with yours. You must give me and my companions
aid and assist us to return to our own land. It is the law of Barsoom.''

{}``Manator knows only the laws of Manator,'' replied U-Dor; {}``but
come. You shall go with us to the city, where you, being beautiful,
need have no fear. I, myself, will protect you if O-Tar so decrees.
And as for your companion\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]but hold! You said
`companions'\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]there are others of your party
then?''

{}``You see what you see,'' replied Tara haughtily.

{}``Be that as it may,'' said U-Dor. {}``If there be more they
shall not escape Manator; but as I was saying, if your companion fights
well he too may live, for O-Tar is just, and just are the laws of
Manator. Come!''

Ghek demurred.

{}``It is useless,'' said the girl, seeing that he would have stood
his ground and fought them. {}``Let us go with them. Why pit your
puny blade against their mighty ones when there should lie in your
great brain the means to outwit them?''\ She spoke in a low whisper,
rapidly.

{}``You are right, Tara of Helium,'' he replied and sheathed his
sword.

And so they moved down the hillside toward the gates of Manator\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]Tara,
Princess of Helium, and Ghek, the kaldane of Bantoom\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and
surrounding them rode the savage, painted warriors of U-Dor, dwar
of the 8th Utan of O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator.


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER XI. THE CHOICE OF TARA}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER XI.\\
THE CHOICE OF TARA}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{THE CHOICE OF TARA}

\textit{\emph{The}} dazzling sunlight of Barsoom clothed Manator in
an aureole of splendor as the girl and her captors rode into the city
through The Gate of Enemies. Here the wall was some fifty feet thick,
and the sides of the passageway within the gate were covered with
parallel shelves of masonry from bottom to top. Within these shelves,
or long, horizontal niches, stood row upon row of small figures, appearing
like tiny, grotesque statuettes of men, their long, black hair falling
below their feet and sometimes trailing to the shelf beneath. The
figures were scarce a foot in height and but for their diminutive
proportions might have been the mummified bodies of once living men.
The girl noticed that as they passed, the warriors saluted the figures
with their spears after the manner of Barsoomian fighting men in extending
a military courtesy, and then they rode on into the avenue beyond,
which ran, wide and stately, through the city toward the east.

On either side were great buildings wondrously wrought. Paintings
of great beauty and antiquity covered many of the walls, their colors
softened and blended by the suns of ages. Upon the pavement the life
of the newly-awakened city was already afoot. Women in brilliant trappings,
befeathered warriors, their bodies daubed with paint; artisans, armed
but less gaily caparisoned, took their various ways upon the duties
of the day. A giant zitidar, magnificent in rich harness, rumbled
its broad-wheeled cart along the stone pavement toward The Gate of
Enemies. Life and color and beauty wrought together a picture that
filled the eyes of Tara of Helium with wonder and with admiration,
for here was a scene out of the dead past of dying Mars. Such had
been the cities of the founders of her race before Throxeus, mightiest
of oceans, had disappeared from the face of a world. And from balconies
on either side men and women looked down in silence upon the scene
below.

The people in the street looked at the two prisoners, especially at
the hideous Ghek, and called out in question or comment to their guard;
but the watchers upon the balconies spoke not, nor did one so much
as turn a head to note their passing. There were many balconies on
each building and not a one that did not hold its silent party of
richly trapped men and women, with here and there a child or two,
but even the children maintained the uniform silence and immobility
of their elders. As they approached the center of the city the girl
saw that even the roofs bore companies of these idle watchers, harnessed
and bejeweled as for some gala-day of laughter and music, but no laughter
broke from those silent lips, nor any music from the strings of the
instruments that many of them held in jeweled fingers.

And now the avenue widened into an immense square, at the far end
of which rose a stately edifice gleaming white in virgin marble among
the gaily painted buildings surrounding it and its scarlet sward and
gaily-flowering, green-foliaged shrubbery. Toward this U-Dor led his
prisoners and their guard to the great arched entrance before which
a line of fifty mounted warriors barred the way. When the commander
of the guard recognized U-Dor the guardsmen fell back to either side
leaving a broad avenue through which the party passed. Directly inside
the entrance were inclined runways leading upward on either side.
U-Dor turned to the left and led them upward to the second floor and
down a long corridor. Here they passed other mounted men and in chambers
upon either side they saw more. Occasionally there was another runway
leading either up or down. A warrior, his steed at full gallop, dashed
into sight from one of these and raced swiftly past them upon some
errand.

Nowhere as yet had Tara of Helium seen a man afoot in this great building;
but when at a turn, U-Dor led them to the third floor she caught glimpses
of chambers in which many riderless thoats were penned and others
adjoining where dismounted warriors lolled at ease or played games
of skill or chance and many there were who played at jetan, and then
the party passed into a long, wide hall of state, as magnificent an
apartment as even a princess of mighty Helium ever had seen. The length
of the room ran an arched ceiling ablaze with countless radium bulbs.
The mighty spans extended from wall to wall leaving the vast floor
unbroken by a single column. The arches were of white marble, apparently
quarried in single, huge blocks from which each arch was cut complete.
Between the arches, the ceiling was set solid about the radium bulbs
with precious stones whose scintillant fire and color and beauty filled
the whole apartment. The stones were carried down the walls in an
irregular fringe for a few feet, where they appeared to hang like
a beautiful and gorgeous drapery against the white marble of the wall.
The marble ended some six or seven feet from the floor, the walls
from that point down being wainscoted in solid gold. The floor itself
was of marble richly inlaid with gold. In that single room was a vast
treasure equal to the wealth of many a large city.

But what riveted the girl's attention even more than the fabulous
treasure of decorations were the files of gorgeously harnessed warriors
who sat their thoats in grim silence and immobility on either side
of the central aisle, rank after rank of them to the farther walls,
and as the party passed between them she could not note so much as
the flicker of an eyelid, or the twitching of a thoat's ear.

{}``The Hall of Chiefs,'' whispered one of her guard, evidently
noting her interest. There was a note of pride in the fellow's voice
and something of hushed awe. Then they passed through a great doorway
into the chamber beyond, a large, square room in which a dozen mounted
warriors lolled in their saddles.

As U-Dor and his party entered the room, the warriors came quickly
erect in their saddles and formed a line before another door upon
the opposite side of the wall. The padwar commanding them saluted
U-Dor who, with his party, had halted facing the guard.

{}``Send one to O-Tar announcing that U-Dor brings two prisoners
worthy of the observation of the great jeddak,'' said U-Dor; {}``one
because of her extreme beauty, the other because of his extreme ugliness.''

{}``O-Tar sits in council with the lesser chiefs,'' replied the
lieutenant; {}``but the words of U-Dor the dwar shall be carried
to him,'' and he turned and gave instructions to one who sat his
thoat behind him.

{}``What manner of creature is the male?''\ he asked of U-Dor.
{}``It cannot be that both are of one race.''

{}``They were together in the hills south of the city,'' explained
U-Dor, {}``and they say that they are lost and starving.''

{}``The woman is beautiful,'' said the padwar. {}``She will not
long go begging in the city of Manator,'' and then they spoke of
other matters\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]of the doings of the palace,
of the expedition of U-Dor, until the messenger returned to say that
O-Tar bade them bring the prisoners to him.

They passed then through a massive doorway, which, when opened, revealed
the great council chamber of O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator, beyond. A central
aisle led from the doorway the full length of the great hall, terminating
at the steps of a marble dais upon which a man sat in a great throne-chair.
Upon either side of the aisle were ranged rows of highly carved desks
and chairs of skeel a hard wood of great beauty. Only a few of the
desks were occupied\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]those in the front row,
just below the rostrum.

At the entrance U-Dor dismounted with four of his followers who formed
a guard about the two prisoners who were then conducted toward the
foot of the throne, following a few paces behind U-Dor. As they halted
at the foot of the marble steps, the proud gaze of Tara of Helium
rested upon the enthroned figure of the man above her. He sat erect
without stiffness\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a commanding presence trapped
in the barbaric splendor that the Barsoomian chieftain loves. He was
a large man, the perfection of whose handsome face was marred only
by the hauteur of his cold eyes and the suggestion of cruelty imparted
by too thin lips. It needed no second glance to assure the least observing
that here indeed was a ruler of men\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a fighting
jeddak whose people might worship but not love, and for whose slightest
favor warriors would vie with one another to go forth and die. This
was O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator, and as Tara of Helium saw him for the
first time she could not but acknowledge a certain admiration for
this savage chieftain who so virilely personified the ancient virtues
of the God of War.

U-Dor and the jeddak interchanged the simple greetings of Barsoom,
and then the former recounted the details of the discovery and capture
of the prisoners. O-Tar scrutinized them both intently during U-Dor's
narration of events, his expression revealing naught of what passed
in the brain behind those inscrutable eyes. When the officer had finished
the jeddak fastened his gaze upon Ghek.

{}``And you,'' he asked, {}``what manner of thing are you? From
what country? Why are you in Manator?''

{}``I am a kaldane,'' replied Ghek; {}``the highest type of created
creature upon the face of Barsoom; I am mind, you are matter. I come
from Bantoom. I am here because we were lost and starving.''

{}``And you!''\ O-Tar turned suddenly on Tara {}``You, too, are
a kaldane?''

{}``I am a princess of Helium,'' replied the girl. {}``I was a
prisoner in Bantoom. This kaldane and a warrior of my own race rescued
me. The warrior left us to search for food and water. He has doubtless
fallen into the hands of your people. I ask you to free him and give
us food and drink and let us go upon our way. I am a granddaughter
of a jeddak, the daughter of a jeddak of jeddaks, The Warlord of Barsoom.
I ask only the treatment that my people would accord you or yours.''

{}``Helium,'' repeated O-Tar. {}``I know naught of Helium, nor
does the Jeddak of Helium rule Manator. I, O-Tar, am Jeddak of Manator.
I alone rule. I protect my own. You have never seen a woman or a warrior
of Manator captive in Helium! Why should I protect the people of another
jeddak? It is his duty to protect them. If he cannot, he is weak,
and his people must fall into the hands of the strong. I, O-Tar, am
strong. I will keep you. That\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]'' he pointed
at Ghek\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]{}``can it fight?''

{}``It is brave,'' replied Tara of Helium, {}``but it has not the
skill at arms which my people possess.''

{}``There is none then to fight for you?''\ asked O-Tar. {}``We
are a just people,'' he continued without waiting for a reply, {}``and
had you one to fight for you he might win to freedom for himself and
you as well.''

{}``But U-Dor assured me that no stranger ever had departed from
Manator,'' she answered.

O-Tar shrugged. {}``That does not disprove the justice of the laws
of Manator,'' replied O-Tar, {}``but rather that the warriors of
Manator are invincible. Had there come one who could defeat our warriors
that one had won to liberty.''

{}``An you fetch my warrior,'' cried Tara haughtily, {}``you shall
see such swordplay as doubtless the crumbling walls of your decaying
city never have witnessed, and if there be no trick in your offer
we are already as good as free.''

O-Tar smiled more broadly than before and U-Dor smiled, too, and the
chiefs and warriors who looked on nudged one another and whispered,
laughing. And Tara of Helium knew then that there was trickery in
their justice; but though her situation seemed hopeless she did not
cease to hope, for was she not the daughter of John Carter, Warlord
of Barsoom, whose famous challenge to Fate, {}``I still live!''\ 
remained the one irreducible defense against despair? At thought of
her noble sire the patrician chin of Tara of Helium rose a shade higher.
Ah!\ if he but knew where she was there were little to fear then.
The hosts of Helium would batter at the gates of Manator, the great
green warriors of John Carter's savage allies would swarm up from
the dead sea bottoms lusting for pillage and for loot, the stately
ships of her beloved navy would soar above the unprotected towers
and minarets of the doomed city which only capitulation and heavy
tribute could then save.

But John Carter did not know! There was only one other to whom she
might hope to look\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]Turan the panthan; but
where was he? She had seen his sword in play and she knew that it
had been wielded by a master hand, and who should know swordplay better
than Tara of Helium, who had learned it well under the constant tutorage
of John Carter himself. Tricks she knew that discounted even far greater
physical prowess than her own, and a method of attack that might have
been at once the envy and despair of the cleverest of warriors. And
so it was that her thoughts turned to Turan the panthan, though not
alone because of the protection he might afford her. She had realized,
since he had left her in search of food, that there had grown between
them a certain comradeship that she now missed. There had been that
about him which seemed to have bridged the gulf between their stations
in life. With him she had failed to consider that he was a panthan
or that she was a princess\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]they had been comrades.
Suddenly she realized that she missed him for himself more than for
his sword. She turned toward O-Tar.

{}``Where is Turan, my warrior?''\ she demanded.

{}``You shall not lack for warriors,'' replied the jeddak. {}``One
of your beauty will find plenty ready to fight for her. Possibly it
shall not be necessary to look farther than the jeddak of Manator.
You please me, woman. What say you to such an honor?''

Through narrowed lids the Princess of Helium scrutinized the Jeddak
of Manator, from feathered headdress to sandaled foot and back to
feathered headdress.

{}``'Honor'!''\ she mimicked in tones of scorn. {}``I please thee,
do I? Then know, swine, that thou pleaseth me not\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]that
the daughter of John Carter is not for such as thou!''

A sudden, tense silence fell upon the assembled chiefs. Slowly the
blood receded from the sinister face of O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator,
leaving him a sickly purple in his wrath. His eyes narrowed to two
thin slits, his lips were compressed to a bloodless line of malevolence.
For a long moment there was no sound in the throne room of the palace
at Manator. Then the jeddak turned toward U-Dor.

{}``Take her away,'' he said in a level voice that belied his appearance
of rage. {}``Take her away, and at the next games let the prisoners
and the common warriors play at Jetan for her.''

{}``And this?''\ asked U-Dor, pointing at Ghek.

{}``To the pits until the next games,'' replied O-Tar.

{}``So this is your vaunted justice!''\ cried Tara of Helium; {}``that
two strangers who have not wronged you shall be sentenced without
trial? And one of them is a woman. The swine of Manator are as just
as they are brave.''

{}``Away with her!''\ shouted O-Tar, and at a sign from U-Dor the
guards formed about the two prisoners and conducted them from the
chamber.

Outside the palace, Ghek and Tara of Helium were separated. The girl
was led through long avenues toward the center of the city and finally
into a low building, topped by lofty towers of massive construction.
Here she was turned over to a warrior who wore the insignia of a dwar,
or captain.

{}``It is O-Tar's wish,'' explained U-Dor to this one, {}``that
she be kept until the next games, when the prisoners and the common
warriors shall play for her. Had she not the tongue of a thoat she
had been a worthy stake for our noblest steel,'' and U-Dor sighed.
{}``Perhaps even yet I may win a pardon for her. It were too bad
to see such beauty fall to the lot of some common fellow. I would
have honored her myself.''

{}``If I am to be imprisoned, imprison me,'' said the girl. {}``I
do not recall that I was sentenced to listen to the insults of every
low-born boor who chanced to admire me.''

{}``You see, A-Kor,'' cried U-Dor, {}``the tongue that she has.
Even so and worse spoke she to O-Tar the jeddak.''

{}``I see,'' replied A-Kor, whom Tara saw was with difficulty restraining
a smile. {}``Come, then, with me, woman,'' he said, {}``and we
shall find a safe place within The Towers of Jetan\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]but
stay!\ what ails thee?''

The girl had staggered and would have fallen had not the man caught
her in his arms. She seemed to gather herself then and bravely sought
to stand erect without support. A-Kor glanced at U-Dor. {}``Knew
you the woman was ill?''\ he asked.

{}``Possibly it is lack of food,'' replied the other. {}``She mentioned,
I believe, that she and her companions had not eaten for several days.''

{}``Brave are the warriors of O-Tar,'' sneered A-Kor; {}``lavish
their hospitality. U-Dor, whose riches are uncounted, and the brave
O-Tar, whose squealing thoats are stabled within marble halls and
fed from troughs of gold, can spare no crust to feed a starving girl.''

The black haired U-Dor.\ scowled. {}``Thy tongue will yet pierce
thy heart, son of a slave!''\ he cried. {}``Once too often mayst
thus try the patience of the just O-Tar. Hereafter guard thy speech
as well as thy towers.''

{}``Think not to taunt me with my mother's state,'' said A-Kor.\ {}\linebreak[1]{}``'Tis
the blood of the slave woman that fills my veins with pride, and my
only shame is that I am also the son of thy jeddak.''

{}``And O-Tar heard this?''\ queried U-Dor.

{}``O-Tar has already heard it from my own lips,'' replied A-Kor;
{}``this, and more.''

He turned upon his heel, a supporting arm still around the waist of
Tara of Helium and thus he half led, half carried her into The Towers
of Jetan, while U-Dor wheeled his thoat and galloped back in the direction
of the palace.

Within the main entrance to The Tower of Jetan lolled a half-dozen
warriors. To one of these spoke A-Kor, keeper of the towers. {}``Fetch
Lan-O, the slave girl, and bid her bring food and drink to the upper
level of the Thurian tower,'' then he lifted the half-fainting girl
in his arms and bore her along the spiral, inclined runway that led
upward within the tower.

Somewhere in the long ascent Tara lost consciousness. When it returned
she found herself in a large, circular chamber, the stone walls of
which were pierced by windows at regular intervals about the entire
circumference of the room. She was lying upon a pile of sleeping silks
and furs while there knelt above her a young woman who was forcing
drops of some cooling beverage between her parched lips. Tara of Helium
half rose upon an elbow and looked about. In the first moments of
returning consciousness there were swept from the screen of recollection
the happenings of many weeks. She thought that she awoke in the palace
of The Warlord at Helium. Her brows knit as she scrutinized the strange
face bending over her.

{}``Who are you?''\ she asked, and, {}``Where is Uthia?''

{}``I am Lan-O the slave girl,'' replied the other. {}``I know
none by the name of Uthia.''

Tara of Helium sat erect and looked about her. This rough stone was
not the marble of her father's halls. {}``Where am I?''\ she asked.

{}``In The Thurian Tower,'' replied the girl, and then seeing that
the other still did not understand she guessed the truth. {}``You
are a prisoner in The Towers of Jetan in the city of Manator,'' she
explained. {}``You were brought to this chamber, weak and fainting,
by A-Kor, Dwar of The Towers of Jetan, who sent me to you with food
and drink, for kind is the heart of A-Kor.''

{}``I remember, now,'' said Tara, slowly. {}``I remember; but where
is Turan, my warrior? Did they speak of him?''

{}``I heard naught of another,'' replied Lan-O; {}``you alone were
brought to the towers. In that you are fortunate, for there be no
nobler man in Manator than A-Kor. It is his mother's blood that makes
him so. She was a slave girl from Gathol.''

{}``Gathol!''\ exclaimed Tara of Helium. {}``Lies Gathol close
by Manator?''

{}``Not close, yet still the nearest country,'' replied Lan-O. {}``About
twenty-two degrees%
\footnote{Approximately 814 Earth Miles.%
} east, it lies.''

{}``Gathol!''\ murmured Tara, {}``Far Gathol!''

{}``But you are not from Gathol,'' said the slave girl; {}``your
harness is not of Gathol.''

{}``I am from Helium,'' said Tara

{}``It is far from Helium to Gathol;'' said the slave girl, {}``but
in our studies we learned much of the greatness of Helium, we of Gathol,
so it seems not so far away.''

{}``You, too, are from Gathol?''\ asked Tara.

{}``Many of us are from Gathol who are slaves in Manator,'' replied
the girl. {}``It is to Gathol, nearest country, that the Manatorians
look for slaves most often. They go in great numbers at intervals
of three or seven years and haunt the roads that lead to Gathol, and
thus they capture whole caravans leaving none to bear warning to Gathol
of their fate. Nor do any ever escape from Manator to carry word of
us back to Gahan our jed.''

Tara of Helium ate slowly and in silence. The girl's words aroused
memories of the last hours she had spent in her father's palace and
the great midday function at which she had met Gahan of Gathol. Even
now she flushed as she recalled his daring words.

Upon her reveries the door opened and a burly warrior appeared in
the opening\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a hulking fellow, with thick lips
and an evil, leering face. The slave girl sprang to her feet, facing
him.

{}``What does this mean, E-Med?''\ she cried, {}``was it not the
will of A-Kor that this woman be not disturbed?''

{}``The will of A-Kor, indeed!''\ and the man sneered. {}``The
will of A-Kor is without power in The Towers of Jetan, or elsewhere,
for A-Kor lies now in the pits of O-Tar, and E-Med is dwar of the
Towers.''

Tara of Helium saw the face of the slave girl pale and the terror
in her eyes.


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER XII. GHEK PLAYS PRANKS}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER XII.\\
GHEK PLAYS PRANKS}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{GHEK PLAYS PRANKS}

\textit{\emph{While}} Tara of Helium was being led to The Towers of
Jetan, Ghek was escorted to the pits beneath the palace where he was
imprisoned in a dimly-lighted chamber. Here he found a bench and a
table standing upon the dirt floor near the wall, and set in the wall
several rings from which depended short lengths of chain. At the base
of the walls were several holes in the dirt floor. These, alone, of
the several things he saw, interested him. Ghek sat down upon the
bench and waited in silence, listening. Presently the lights were
extinguished. If Ghek could have smiled he would have then, for Ghek
could see as well in the dark as in the light\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]better,
perhaps. He watched the dark openings of the holes in the floor and
waited. Presently he detected a change in the air about him\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]it
grew heavy with a strange odor, and once again might Ghek have smiled,
could he have smiled.

Let them replace all the air in the chamber with their most deadly
fumes; it would be all the same to Ghek, the kaldane, who, having
no lungs, required no air. With the rykor it might be different. Deprived
of air it would die; but if only a sufficient amount of the gas was
introduced to stupefy an ordinary creature it would have no effect
upon the rykor, who had no objective mind to overcome. So long as
the excess of carbon dioxide in the blood was not sufficient to prevent
heart action, the rykor would suffer only a diminution of vitality;
but would still respond to the exciting agency of the kaldane's brain.

Ghek caused the rykor to assume a sitting position with its back against
the wall where it might remain without direction from his brain. Then
he released his contact with its spinal cord; but remained in position
upon its shoulders, waiting and watching, for the kaldane's curiosity
was aroused. He had not long to wait before the lights were flashed
on and one of the locked doors opened to admit a half-dozen warriors.
They approached him rapidly and worked quickly. First they removed
all his weapons and then, snapping a fetter about one of the rykor's
ankles, secured him to the end of one of the chains hanging from the
walls. Next they dragged the long table to a new position and there
bolted it to the floor so that an end, instead of the middle, was
directly before the prisoner. On the table before him they set food
and water and upon the opposite end of the table they laid the key
to the fetter. Then they unlocked and opened all the doors and departed.

\bigskip{}
When Turan the panthan regained consciousness it was to the realization
of a sharp pain in one of his forearms. The effects of the gas departed
as rapidly as they had overcome him so that as he opened his eyes
he was in full possession of all his faculties. The lights were on
again and in their glow there was revealed to the man the figure of
a giant Martian rat crouching upon the table and gnawing upon his
arm. Snatching his arm away he reached for his short-sword, while
the rat, growling, sought to seize his arm again. It was then that
Turan discovered that his weapons had been removed\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]short-sword,
long-sword, dagger, and pistol. The rat charged him then and striking
the creature away with his hand the man rose and backed off, searching
for something with which to strike a harder blow. Again the rat charged
and as Turan stepped quickly back to avoid the menacing jaws, something
seemed to jerk suddenly upon his right ankle, and as he drew his left
foot back to regain his equilibrium his heel caught upon a taut chain
and he fell heavily backward to the floor just as the rat leaped upon
his breast and sought his throat.

The Martian rat is a fierce and unlovely thing. It is many-legged
and hairless, its hide resembling that of a newborn mouse in repulsiveness.
In size and weight it is comparable to a large Airedale terrier. Its
eyes are small and close-set, and almost hidden in deep, fleshy apertures.
But its most ferocious and repulsive feature is its jaws, the entire
bony structure of which protrudes several inches beyond the flesh,
revealing five sharp, spadelike teeth in the upper jaw and the same
number of similar teeth in the lower, the whole suggesting the appearance
of a rotting face from which much of the flesh has sloughed away.

It was such a thing that leaped upon the breast of the panthan to
tear at his jugular. Twice Turan struck it away as he sought to regain
his feet, but both times it returned with increased ferocity to renew
the attack. Its only weapons are its jaws since its broad, splay feet
are armed with blunt talons. With its protruding jaws it excavates
its winding burrows and with its broad feet it pushes the dirt behind
it. To keep the jaws from his flesh then was Turan's only concern
and this he succeeded in doing until chance gave him a hold upon the
creature's throat. After that the end was but a matter of moments.
Rising at last he flung the lifeless thing from him with a shudder
of disgust.

Now he turned his attention to a hurried inventory of the new conditions
which surrounded him since the moment of his incarceration. He realized
vaguely what had happened. He had been an\ae{}sthetized and stripped
of his weapons, and as he rose to his feet he saw that one ankle was
fettered to a chain in the wall. He looked about the room. All the
doors swung wide open! His captors would render his imprisonment the
more cruel by leaving ever before him tempting glimpses of open aisles
to the freedom he could not attain. Upon the end of the table and
within easy reach was food and drink. This at least was attainable
and at sight of it his starved stomach seemed almost to cry aloud
for sustenance. It was with difficulty that he ate and drank in moderation.

As he devoured the food his eyes wandered about the confines of his
prison until suddenly they seized upon a thing that lay on the table
at the end farthest from him. It was a key. He raised his fettered
ankle and examined the lock. There could be no doubt of it! The key
that lay there on the table before him was the key to that very lock.
A careless warrior had laid it there and departed, forgetting.

Hope surged high in the breast of Gahan of Gathol, of Turan the panthan.
Furtively his eyes sought the open doorways. There was no one in sight.
Ah, if he could but gain his freedom! He would find some way from
this odious city back to her side and never again would he leave her
until he had won safety for her or death for himself.

He rose and moved cautiously toward the opposite end of the table
where lay the coveted key. The fettered ankle halted his first step,
but he stretched at full length along the table, extending eager fingers
toward the prize. They almost laid hold upon it\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
little more and they would touch it. He strained and stretched, but
still the thing lay just beyond his reach. He hurled himself forward
until the iron fetter bit deep into his flesh, but all futilely. He
sat back upon the bench then and glared at the open doors and the
key, realizing now that they were part of a well-laid scheme of refined
torture, none the less demoralizing because it inflicted no physical
suffering.

For just a moment the man gave way to useless regret and foreboding,
then he gathered himself together, his brows cleared, and he returned
to his unfinished meal. At least they should not have the satisfaction
of knowing how sorely they had hit him. As he ate it occurred to him
that by dragging the table along the floor he could bring the key
within his reach, but when he essayed to do so, he found that the
table had been securely bolted to the floor during the period of his
unconsciousness, Again Gahan smiled and shrugged and resumed his eating.

\bigskip{}
When the warriors had departed from the prison in which Ghek was confined,
the kaldane crawled from the shoulders of the rykor to the table.
Here he drank a little water and then directed the hands of the rykor
to the balance of it and to the food, upon which the brainless thing
fell with avidity. While it was thus engaged Ghek took his spider-like
way along the table to the opposite end where lay the key to the fetter.
Seizing it in a chela he leaped to the floor and scurried rapidly
toward the mouth of one of the burrows against the wall, into which
he disappeared. For long had the brain been contemplating these burrow
entrances. They appealed to his kaldanean tastes, and further, they
pointed a hiding place for the key and a lair for the only kind of
food that the kaldane relished\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]flesh and blood.

Ghek had never seen an ulsio, since these great Martian rats had long
ago disappeared from Bantoom, their flesh and blood having been greatly
relished by the kaldanes; but Ghek had inherited, almost unimpaired,
every memory of every ancestor, and so he knew that ulsio inhabited
these lairs and that ulsio was good to eat, and he knew what ulsio
looked like and what his habits were, though he had never seen him
nor any picture of him. As we breed animals for the transmission of
physical attributes, so the Kaldanes breed themselves for the transmission
of attributes of the mind, including memory and the power of recollection,
and thus have they raised what we term instinct, above the level of
the threshold of the objective mind where it may be commanded and
utilized by recollection. Doubtless in our own subjective minds lie
many of the impressions and experiences of our forebears. These may
impinge upon our consciousness in dreams only, or in vague, haunting
suggestions that we have before experienced some transient phase of
our present existence. Ah, if we had but the power to recall them!
Before us would unfold the forgotten story of the lost eons that have
preceded us. We might even walk with God in the garden of His stars
while man was still but a budding idea within His mind.

Ghek descended into the burrow at a steep incline for some ten feet,
when he found himself in an elaborate and delightful network of burrows!
The kaldane was elated. This indeed was life! He moved rapidly and
fearlessly and he went as straight to his goal as you could to the
kitchen of your own home. This goal lay at a low level in a spheroidal
cavity about the size of a large barrel. Here, in a nest of torn bits
of silk and fur lay six baby ulsios.

When the mother returned there were but five babies and a great spider-like
creature, which she immediately sprang to attack only to be met by
powerful chel\ae{} which seized and held her so that she could not
move. Slowly they dragged her throat toward a hideous mouth and in
a little moment she was dead.

Ghek might have remained in the nest for a long time, since there
was ample food for many days; but he did not do so. Instead he explored
the burrows. He followed them into many subterranean chambers of the
city of Manator, and upward through walls to rooms above the ground.
He found many ingeniously devised traps, and he found poisoned food
and other signs of the constant battle that the inhabitants of Manator
waged against these repulsive creatures that dwelt beneath their homes
and public buildings.

His exploration revealed not only the vast proportions of the net-work
of runways that apparently traversed every portion of the city, but
the great antiquity of the majority of them. Tons upon tons of dirt
must have been removed, and for a long time he wondered where it had
been deposited, until in following downward a tunnel of great size
and length he sensed before him the thunderous rush of subterranean
waters, and presently came to the bank of a great, underground river,
tumbling onward, no doubt, the length of a world to the buried sea
of Omean. Into this torrential sewer had unthinkable generations of
ulsios pushed their few handsful of dirt in the excavating of their
vast labyrinth.

For only a moment did Ghek tarry by the river, for his seemingly aimless
wanderings were in reality prompted by a definite purpose, and this
he pursued with vigor and singleness of design. He followed such runways
as appeared to terminate in the pits or other chambers of the inhabitants
of the city, and these he explored, usually from the safety of a burrow's
mouth, until satisfied that what he sought was not there. He moved
swiftly upon his spider legs and covered remarkable distances in short
periods of time.

His search not being rewarded with immediate success, he decided to
return to the pit where his rykor lay chained and look to its wants.
As he approached the end of the burrow that terminated in the pit
he slackened his pace, stopping just within the entrance of the runway
that he might scan the interior of the chamber before entering it.
As he did so he saw the figure of a warrior appear suddenly in an
opposite doorway. The rykor sprawled upon the table, his hands groping
blindly for more food. Ghek saw the warrior pause and gaze in sudden
astonishment at the rykor; he saw the fellow's eyes go wide and an
ashen hue replace the copper bronze of his cheek. He stepped back
as though someone had struck him in the face. For an instant only
he stood thus as in a paralysis of fear, then he uttered a smothered
shriek and turned and fled. Again was it a catastrophe that Ghek,
the kaldane, could not smile.

Quickly entering the room he crawled to the table top and affixed
himself to the shoulders of his rykor, and there he waited; and who
may say that Ghek, though he could not smile, possessed not a sense
of humor? For a half-hour he sat there, and then there came to him
the sound of men approaching along corridors of stone. He could hear
their arms clank against the rocky walls and he knew that they came
at a rapid pace; but just before they reached the entrance to his
prison they paused and advanced more slowly. In the lead was an officer,
and just behind him, wide-eyed and perhaps still a little ashen, the
warrior who had so recently departed in haste. At the doorway they
halted and the officer turned sternly upon the warrior. With upraised
finger he pointed at Ghek.

{}``There sits the creature! Didst thou dare lie, then, to thy dwar?''

{}``I swear,'' cried the warrior, {}``that I spoke the truth. But
a moment since the thing groveled, headless, upon this very table!
And may my first ancestor strike me dead upon the spot if I speak
other than a true word!''

The officer looked puzzled. The men of Mars seldom if ever lie. He
scratched his head. Then he addressed Ghek. {}``How long have you
been here?''\ he asked.

{}``Who knows better than those who placed me here and chained me
to a wall?''\ he returned in reply.

{}``Saw you this warrior enter here a few minutes since?''

{}``I saw him,'' replied Ghek.

{}``And you sat there where you sit now?''\ continued the officer.

{}``Look thou to my chain and tell me then where else might I sit!''\ 
cried Ghek. {}``Art the people of thy city all fools?''

Three other warriors pressed behind the two in front, craning their
necks to view the prisoner while they grinned at the discomfiture
of their fellow. The officer scowled at Ghek.

{}``Thy tongue is as venomous as that of the she-banth O-Tar sent
to The Towers of Jetan,'' he said.

{}``You speak of the young woman who was captured with me?''\ asked
Ghek, his expressionless monotone and face revealing naught of the
interest he felt.

{}``I speak of her,'' replied the dwar, and then turning to the
warrior who had summoned him: {}``return to thy quarters and remain
there until the next games. Perhaps by that time thy eyes may have
learned not to deceive thee.''

The fellow cast a venomous glance at Ghek and turned away. The officer
shook his head. {}``I do not understand it,'' he muttered. {}``Always
has U-Van been a true and dependable warrior. Could it be\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]?''\ he
glanced piercingly at Ghek. {}``Thou hast a strange head that misfits
thy body, fellow,'' he cried. {}``Our legends tell us of those ancient
creatures that placed hallucinations upon the mind of their fellows.
If thou be such then maybe U-Van suffered from thy forbidden powers.
If thou be such O-Tar will know well how to deal with thee.'' He
wheeled about and motioned his warriors to follow him.

{}``Wait!''\ cried Ghek. {}``Unless I am to be starved, send me
food.''

{}``You have had food,'' replied the warrior.

{}``Am I to be fed but once a day?''\ asked Ghek. {}``I require
food oftener than that. Send me food.''

{}``You shall have food,'' replied the officer. {}``None may say
that the prisoners of Manator are ill-fed. Just are the laws of Manator,''
and he departed.

No sooner had the sounds of their passing died away in the distance
than Ghek clambered from the shoulders of his rykor, and scurried
to the burrow where he had hidden the key. Fetching it he unlocked
the fetter from about the creature's ankle, locked it empty and carried
the key farther down into the burrow. Then he returned to his place
upon his brainless servitor. After a while he heard footsteps approaching,
whereupon he rose and passed into another corridor from that down
which he knew the warrior was coming. Here he waited out of sight,
listening. He heard the man enter the chamber and halt. He heard a
muttered exclamation, followed by the jangle of metal dishes as a
salver was slammed upon a table; then rapidly retreating footsteps,
which quickly died away in the distance.

Ghek lost no time in returning to the chamber, recovering the key,
relocking the rykor to his chain. Then he replaced the key in the
burrow and squatting on the table beside his headless body, directed
its hands toward the food. While the rykor ate Ghek sat listening
for the scraping sandals and clattering arms that he knew soon would
come. Nor had he long to wait. Ghek scrambled to the shoulders of
his rykor as he heard them coming. Again it was the officer who had
been summoned by U-Van and with him were three warriors. The one directly
behind him was evidently the same who had brought the food, for his
eyes went wide when he saw Ghek sitting at the table and he looked
very foolish as the dwar turned his stern glance upon him.

{}``It is even as I said,'' he cried. {}``He was not here when
I brought his food.''

{}``But he is here now,'' said the officer grimly, {}``and his
fetter is locked about his ankle. Look!\ it has not been opened\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]but
where is the key? It should be upon the table at the end opposite
him. Where is the key, creature?''\ he shouted at Ghek.

{}``How should I, a prisoner, know better than my jailer the whereabouts
of the key to my fetters?''\ he retorted.

{}``But it lay here,'' cried the officer, pointing to the other
end of the table.

{}``Did you see it?''\ asked Ghek.

The officer hesitated. {}``No but it must have been there,'' he
parried.

{}``Did you see the key lying there?''\ asked Ghek, pointing to
another warrior.

The fellow shook his head negatively. {}``And you?\ and you?''\ continued
the kaldane addressing the others.

They both admitted that they never had seen the key. {}``And if it
had been there how could I have reached it?''\ he continued.

{}``No, he could not have reached it,'' admitted the officer; {}``but
there shall be no more of this! I-Zav, you will remain here on guard
with this prisoner until you are relieved.''

I-Zav looked anything but happy as this intelligence was transmitted
to him, and he eyed Ghek suspiciously as the dwar and the other warriors
turned and left him to his unhappy lot.


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER XIII. A DESPERATE DEED}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER XIII.\\
A DESPERATE DEED}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{A DESPERATE DEED}

E-\textit{\emph{med}} crossed the tower chamber toward Tara of Helium
and the slave girl, Lan-O. He seized the former roughly by a shoulder.
{}``Stand!''\ he commanded. Tara struck his hand from her and rising,
backed away.

{}``Lay not your hand upon the person of a princess of Helium, beast!''\ 
she warned.

E-Med laughed. {}``Think you that I play at jetan for you without
first knowing something of the stake for which I play?''\ he demanded.
{}``Come here!''

The girl drew herself to her full height, folding her arms across
her breast, nor did E-Med note that the slim fingers of her right
hand were inserted beneath the broad leather strap of her harness
where it passed over her left shoulder.

{}``An O-Tar learns of this you shall rue it, E-Med,'' cried the
slave girl; {}``there be no law in Manator that gives you this girl
before you shall have won her fairly.''

{}``What cares O-Tar for her fate?''\ replied E-Med. {}``Have
I not heard? Did she not flout the great jeddak, heaping abuse upon
him? By my first ancestor, I think O-Tar might make a jed of the man
who subdued her,'' and again he advanced toward Tara.

{}``Wait!''\ said the girl in low, even tone. {}``Perhaps you
know not what you do. Sacred to the people of Helium are the persons
of the women of Helium. For the honor of the humblest of them would
the great jeddak himself unsheathe his sword. The greatest nations
of Barsoom have trembled to the thunders of war in defense of the
person of Dejah Thoris, my mother. We are but mortal and so may die;
but we may not be defiled. You may play at jetan for a princess of
Helium, but though you may win the match, never may you claim the
reward. If thou wouldst possess a dead body press me too far, but
know, man of Manator, that the blood of The Warlord flows not in the
veins of Tara of Helium for naught. I have spoken.''

{}``I know naught of Helium and O-Tar is our warlord,'' replied
E-Med; {}``but I do know that I would examine more closely the prize
that I shall play for and win. I would test the lips of her who is
to be my slave after the next games; nor is it well, woman, to drive
me too far to anger.'' His eyes narrowed as he spoke, his visage
taking on the semblance of that of a snarling beast. {}``If you doubt
the truth of my words ask Lan-O, the slave girl.''

{}``He speaks truly, O woman of Helium,'' interjected Lan-O. {}``Try
not the temper of E-Med, if you value your life.''

But Tara of Helium made no reply. Already had she spoken. She stood
in silence now facing the burly warrior who approached her. He came
close and then quite suddenly he seized her and, bending, tried to
draw her lips to his.

Lan-O saw the woman from Helium half turn, and with a quick movement
jerk her right hand from where it had lain upon her breast. She saw
the hand shoot from beneath the arm of E-Med and rise behind his shoulder
and she saw in the hand a long, slim blade. The lips of the warrior
were drawing closer to those of the woman, but they never touched
them, for suddenly the man straightened, stiffly, a shriek upon his
lips, and then he crumpled like an empty fur and lay, a shrunken heap,
upon the floor. Tara of Helium stooped and wiped her blade upon his
harness.

Lan-O, wide-eyed, looked with horror upon the corpse. {}``For this
we shall both die,'' she cried.

{}``And who would live a slave in Manator?''\ asked Tara of Helium.

{}``I am not so brave as thou,'' said the slave girl, {}``and life
is sweet and there is always hope.''

{}``Life is sweet,'' agreed Tara of Helium, {}``but honor is sacred.
But do not fear. When they come I shall tell them the truth\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]that
you had no hand in this and no opportunity to prevent it.''

For a moment the slave girl seemed to be thinking deeply. Suddenly
her eyes lighted. {}``There is a way, perhaps,'' she said, {}``to
turn suspicion from us. He has the key to this chamber upon him. Let
us open the door and drag him out\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]maybe we
shall find a place to hide him.''

{}``Good!''\ exclaimed Tara of Helium, and the two immediately
set about the matter Lan-O had suggested. Quickly they found the key
and unlatched the door and then, between them, they half carried,
half dragged, the corpse of E-Med from the room and down the stairway
to the next level where Lan-O said there were vacant chambers. The
first door they tried was unlatched, and through this the two bore
their grisly burden into a small room lighted by a single window.
The apartment bore evidence of having been utilized as a living-room
rather than as a cell, being furnished with a degree of comfort and
even luxury. The walls were paneled to a height of about seven feet
from the floor, while the plaster above and the ceiling were decorated
with faded paintings of another day.

As Tara's eyes ran quickly over the interior her attention was drawn
to a section of paneling that seemed to be separated at one edge from
the piece next adjoining it. Quickly she crossed to it, discovering
that one vertical edge of an entire panel projected a half-inch beyond
the others. There was a possible explanation which piqued her curiosity,
and acting upon its suggestion she seized upon the projecting edge
and pulled outward. Slowly the panel swung toward her, revealing a
dark aperture in the wall behind.

{}``Look, Lan-O!''\ she cried. {}``See what I have found\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
hole in which we may hide the thing upon the floor.''

Lan-O joined her and together the two investigated the dark aperture,
finding a small platform from which a narrow runway led downward into
Stygian darkness. Thick dust covered the floor within the doorway,
indicating that a great period of time had elapsed since human foot
had trod it\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a secret way, doubtless, unknown
to living Manatorians. Here they dragged the corpse of E-Med, leaving
it upon the platform, and as they left the dark and forbidden closet
Lan-O would have slammed to the panel had not Tara prevented.

{}``Wait!''\ she said, and fell to examining the door frame and
the stile.

{}``Hurry!''\ whispered the slave girl. {}``If they come we are
lost.''

{}``It may serve us well to know how to open this place again,''
replied Tara of Helium, and then suddenly she pressed a foot against
a section of the carved base at the right of the open panel. {}``Ah!''\ 
she breathed, a note of satisfaction in her tone, and closed the panel
until it fitted snugly in its place. {}``Come!''\ she said and
turned toward the outer doorway of the chamber.

They reached their own cell without detection, and closing the door
Tara locked it from the inside and placed the key in a secret pocket
in her harness.

{}``Let them come,'' she said. {}``Let them question us! What could
two poor prisoners know of the whereabouts of their noble jailer?
I ask you, Lan-O, what could they?''

{}``Nothing,'' admitted Lan-O, smiling with her companion.

{}``Tell me of these men of Manator,'' said Tara presently. {}``Are
they all like E-Med, or are some of them like A-Kor, who seemed a
brave and chivalrous character?''

{}``They are not unlike the peoples of other countries,'' replied
Lan-O. {}``There be among them both good and bad. They are brave
warriors and mighty. Among themselves they are not without chivalry
and honor, but in their dealings with strangers they know but one
law\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the law of might. The weak and unfortunate
of other lands fill them with contempt and arouse all that is worst
in their natures, which doubtless accounts for their treatment of
us, their slaves.''

{}``But why should they feel contempt for those who have suffered
the misfortune of falling into their hands?''\ queried Tara.

{}``I do not know,'' said Lan-O; {}``A-Kor says that he believes
that it is because their country has never been invaded by a victorious
foe. In their stealthy raids never have they been defeated, because
they have never waited to face a powerful force; and so they have
come to believe themselves invincible, and the other peoples are held
in contempt as inferior in valor and the practice of arms.''

{}``Yet A-Kor is one of them,'' said Tara.

{}``He is a son of O-Tar, the jeddak,'' replied Lan-O; {}``but
his mother was a high born Gatholian, captured and made slave by O-Tar,
and A-Kor boasts that in his veins runs only the blood of his mother,
and indeed is he different from the others. His chivalry is of a gentler
form, though not even his worst enemy has dared question his courage,
while his skill with the sword, and the spear, and the thoat is famous
throughout the length and breadth of Manator.''

{}``What think you they will do with him?''\ asked Tara of Helium.

{}``Sentence him to the games,'' replied Lan-O. {}``If O-Tar be
not greatly angered he may be sentenced to but a single game, in which
case he may come out alive; but if O-Tar wishes really to dispose
of him he will be sentenced to the entire series, and no warrior has
ever survived the full ten, or rather none who was under a sentence
from O-Tar.''

{}``What are the games? I do not understand,'' said Tara {}``I
have heard them speak of playing at jetan, but surely no one can be
killed at jetan. We play it often at home.''

{}``But not as they play it in the arena at Manator,'' replied Lan-O.
{}``Come to the window,'' and together the two approached an aperture
facing toward the east.

Below her Tara of Helium saw a great field entirely surrounded by
the low building, and the lofty towers of which that in which she
was imprisoned was but a unit. About the arena were tiers of seats;
but the thing that caught her attention was a gigantic jetan board
laid out upon the floor of the arena in great squares of alternate
orange and black.

{}``Here they play at jetan with living pieces. They play for great
stakes and usually for a woman\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]some slave
of exceptional beauty. O-Tar himself might have played for you had
you not angered him, but now you will be played for in an open game
by slaves and criminals, and you will belong to the side that wins\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]not
to a single warrior, but to all who survive the game.''

The eyes of Tara of Helium flashed, but she made no comment.

{}``Those who direct the play do not necessarily take part in it,''
continued the slave girl, {}``but sit in those two great thrones
which you see at either end of the board and direct their pieces from
square to square.''

{}``But where lies the danger?''\ asked Tara of Helium. {}``If
a piece be taken it is merely removed from the board\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]this
is a rule of jetan as old almost as the civilization of Barsoom.''

{}``But here in Manator, when they play in the great arena with living
men, that rule is altered,'' explained Lan-O. {}``When a warrior
is moved to a square occupied by an opposing piece, the two battle
to the death for possession of the square and the one that is successful
advantages by the move. Each is caparisoned to simulate the piece
he represents and in addition he wears that which indicates whether
he be slave, a warrior serving a sentence, or a volunteer. If serving
a sentence the number of games he must play is also indicated, and
thus the one directing the moves knows which pieces to risk and which
to conserve, and further than this, a man's chances are affected by
the position that is assigned him for the game. Those whom they wish
to die are always Panthans in the game, for the Panthan has the least
chance of surviving.''

{}``Do those who direct the play ever actually take part in it?''\ 
asked Tara.

{}``Oh, yes,'' said Lan-O. {}``Often when two warriors, even of
the highest class, hold a grievance against one another O-Tar compels
them to settle it upon the arena. Then it is that they take active
part and with drawn swords direct their own players from the position
of Chief. They pick their own players, usually the best of their own
warriors and slaves, if they be powerful men who possess such, or
their friends may volunteer, or they may obtain prisoners from the
pits. These are games indeed\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the very best
that are seen. Often the great chiefs themselves are slain.''

{}``It is within this amphitheater that the justice of Manator is
meted, then?''\ asked Tara.

{}``Very largely,'' replied Lan-O.

{}``How, then, through such justice, could a prisoner win his liberty?''\ 
continued the girl from Helium.

{}``If a man, and he survived ten games his liberty would be his,''
replied Lan-O.

{}``But none ever survives?''\ queried Tara. {}``And if a woman?''

{}``No stranger within the gates of Manator ever has survived ten
games,'' replied the slave girl. {}``They are permitted to offer
themselves into perpetual slavery if they prefer that to fighting
at jetan. Of course they may be called upon, as any warrior, to take
part in a game, but their chances then of surviving are increased,
since they may never again have the chance of winning to liberty.''

{}``But a woman,'' insisted Tara; {}``how may a woman win her freedom?''

Lan-O laughed. {}``Very simply,'' she cried.\ derisively. {}``She
has but to find a warrior who will fight through ten consecutive games
for her and survive.''

{}```Just are the laws of Manator,''' quoted Tara, scornfully.

Then it was that they heard footsteps outside their cell and a moment
later a key turned in the lock and the door opened. A warrior faced
them.

{}``Hast seen E-Med the dwar?''\ he asked.

{}``Yes,'' replied Tara, {}``he was here some time ago.''

The man glanced quickly about the bare chamber and then searchingly
first at Tara of Helium and then at the slave girl, Lan-O. The puzzled
expression upon his face increased. He scratched his head. {}``It
is strange,'' he said. {}``A score of men saw him ascend into this
tower; and though there is but a single exit, and that well guarded,
no man has seen him pass out.''

Tara of Helium hid a yawn with the back of a shapely hand. {}``The
Princess of Helium is hungry, fellow,'' she drawled; {}``tell your
master that she would eat.''

It was an hour later that food was brought, an officer and several
warriors accompanying the bearer. The former examined the room carefully,
but there was no sign that aught amiss had occurred there. The wound
that had sent E-Med the dwar to his ancestors had not bled, fortunately
for Tara of Helium.

{}``Woman,'' cried the officer, turning upon Tara, {}``you were
the last to see E-Med the dwar. Answer me now and answer me truthfully.
Did you see him leave this room?''

{}``I did,'' answered Tara of Helium.

{}``Where did he go from here?''

{}``How should I know? Think you that I can pass through a locked
door of skeel?''\ the girl's tone was scornful.

{}``Of that we do not know,'' said the officer. {}``Strange things
have happened in the cell of your companion in the pits of Manator.
Perhaps you could pass through a locked door of skeel as easily as
he performs seemingly more impossible feats.''

{}``Whom do you mean,'' she cried; {}``Turan the panthan? He lives,
then? Tell me, is he here in Manator unharmed?''

{}``I speak of that thing which calls itself Ghek the kaldane,''
replied the officer.

{}``But Turan! Tell me, padwar, have you heard aught of him?''\ Tara's
tone was insistent and she leaned a little forward toward the officer,
her lips slightly parted in expectancy.

Into the eyes of the slave girl, Lan-O, who was watching her, there
crept a soft light of understanding; but the officer ignored Tara's
question\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]what was the fate of another slave
to him? {}``Men do not disappear into thin air,'' he growled, {}``and
if E-Med be not found soon O-Tar himself may take a hand in this.
I warn you, woman, if you be one of those horrid Corphals that by
commanding the spirits of the wicked dead gains evil mastery over
the living, as many now believe the thing called Ghek to be, that
lest you return E-Med, O-Tar will have no mercy on you.''

{}``What foolishness is this?''\ cried the girl. {}``I am a princess
of Helium, as I have told you all a score of times. Even if the fabled
Corphals existed, as none but the most ignorant now believes, the
lore of the ancients tells us that they entered only into the bodies
of wicked criminals of the lowest class. Man of Manator, thou art
a fool, and thy jeddak and all his people,'' and she turned her royal
back upon the padwar, and gazed through the window across the Field
of Jetan and the roofs of Manator through the low hills and the rolling
country and freedom.

{}``And you know so much of Corphals, then,'' he cried, {}``you
know that while no common man dare harm them they may be slain by
the hand of a jeddak with impunity!''

The girl did not reply, nor would she speak again, for all his threats
and rage, for she knew now that none in all Manator dared harm her
save O-Tar, the jeddak, and after a while the padwar left, taking
his men with him. And after they had gone Tara stood for long looking
out upon the city of Manator, and wondering what more of cruel wrongs
Fate held in store for her. She was standing thus in silent meditation
when there rose to her the strains of martial music from the city
below\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the deep, mellow tones of the long war
trumpets of mounted troops, the clear, ringing notes of foot-soldiers'
music. The girl raised her head and looked about, listening, and Lan-O,
standing at an opposite window, looking toward the west, motioned
Tara to join her. Now they could see across roofs and avenues to The
Gate of Enemies, through which troops were marching into the city.

{}``The Great Jed is coming,'' said Lan-O, {}``none other dares
enter thus, with blaring trumpets, the city of Manator. It is U-Thor,
Jed of Manatos, second city of Manator. They call him The Great Jed
the length and breadth of Manator, and because the people love him,
O-Tar hates him. They say, who know, that it would need but slight
provocation to inflame the two to war. How such a war would end no
one could guess; for the people of Manator worship the great O-Tar,
though they do not love him. U-Thor they love, but he is not the jeddak,''
and Tara understood, as only a Martian may, how much that simple statement
encompassed.

The loyalty of a Martian to his jeddak is almost an instinct, and
second not even to the instinct of self-preservation at that. Nor
is this strange in a race whose religion includes ancestor worship,
and where families trace their origin back into remote ages and a
jeddak sits upon the same throne that his direct progenitors have
occupied for, perhaps, hundreds of thousands of years, and rules the
descendants of the same people that his forebears ruled. Wicked jeddaks
have been dethroned, but seldom are they replaced by other than members
of the imperial house, even though the law gives to the jeds the right
to select whom they please.

{}``U-Thor is a just man and good, then?''\ asked Tara of Helium.

{}``There be none nobler,'' replied Lan-O. {}``In Manatos none
but wicked criminals who deserve death are forced to play at jetan,
and even then the play is fair and they have their chance for freedom.
Volunteers may play, but the moves are not necessarily to the death\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
wound, and even sometimes points in swordplay, deciding the issue.
There they look upon jetan as a martial sport\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]here
it is but butchery. And U-Thor is opposed to the ancient slave raids
and to the policy that keeps Manator forever isolated from the other
nations of Barsoom; but U-Thor is not jeddak and so there is no change.''

The two girls watched the column moving up the broad avenue from The
Gate of Enemies toward the palace of O-Tar. A gorgeous, barbaric procession
of painted warriors in jewel-studded harness and waving feathers;
vicious, squealing thoats caparisoned in rich trappings; far above
their heads the long lances of their riders bore fluttering pennons;
foot-soldiers swinging easily along the stone pavement, their sandals
of zitidar hide giving forth no sound; and at the rear of each utan
a train of painted chariots, drawn by mammoth zitidars, carrying the
equipment of the company to which they were attached. Utan after utan
entered through the great gate, and even when the head of the column
reached the palace of O-Tar they were not all within the city.

{}``I have been here many years,'' said the girl, Lan-O; {}``but
never have I seen even The Great Jed bring so many fighting men into
the city of Manator.''

Through half-closed eyes Tara of Helium watched the warriors marching
up the broad avenue, trying to imagine them the fighting men of her
beloved Helium coming to the rescue of their princess. That splendid
figure upon the great thoat might be John Carter, himself, Warlord
of Barsoom, and behind him utan after utan of the veterans of the
empire, and then the girl opened her eyes again and saw the host of
painted, befeathered barbarians, and sighed. But yet she watched,
fascinated by the martial scene, and now she noted again the groups
of silent figures upon the balconies. No waving silks; no cries of
welcome; no showers of flowers and jewels such as would have marked
the entry of such a splendid, friendly pageant into the twin cities
of her birth.

{}``The people do not seem friendly to the warriors of Manatos,''
she remarked to Lan-O; {}``I have not seen a single welcoming sign
from the people on the balconies.''

The slave girl looked at her in surprise. {}``It cannot be that you
do not know!''\ she exclaimed. {}``Why, they are\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]''
but she got no further. The door swung open and an officer stood before
them.

{}``The slave girl, Tara, is summoned to the presence of O-Tar, the
jeddak!''\ he announced.


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER XIV. AT GHEK'S COMMAND}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER XIV.\\
AT GHEKS COMMAND}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{AT GHEKS COMMAND}

\textit{\emph{Turan}} the panthan chafed in his chains. Time dragged;
silence and monotony prolonged minutes into hours. Uncertainty of
the fate of the woman he loved turned each hour into an eternity of
hell. He listened impatiently for the sound of approaching footsteps
that he might see and speak to some living creature and learn, perchance,
some word of Tara of Helium. After torturing hours his ears were rewarded
by the rattle of harness and arms. Men were coming! He waited breathlessly.
Perhaps they were his executioners; but he would welcome them notwithstanding.
He would question them. But if they knew naught of Tara he would not
divulge the location of the hiding place in which he had left her.

Now they came\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a half-dozen warriors and an
officer, escorting an unarmed man; a prisoner, doubtless. Of this
Turan was not left long in doubt, since they brought the newcomer
and chained him to an adjoining ring. Immediately the panthan commenced
to question the officer in charge of the guard.

{}``Tell me,'' he demanded, {}``why I have been made prisoner,
and if other strangers were captured since I entered your city.''

{}``What other prisoners?''\ asked the officer.

{}``A woman, and a man with a strange head,'' replied Turan.

{}``It is possible,'' said the officer; {}``but what were their
names?''

{}``The woman was Tara, Princess of Helium, and the man was Ghek,
a kaldane, of Bantoom.''

{}``These were your friends?''\ asked the officer.

{}``Yes,'' replied Turan.

{}``It is what I would know,'' said the officer, and with a curt
command to his men to follow him he turned and left the cell.

{}``Tell me of them!''\ cried Turan after him. {}``Tell me of
Tara of Helium! Is she safe?''\ but the man did not answer and soon
the sound of their departure died in the distance.

{}``Tara of Helium was safe, but a short time since,'' said the
prisoner chained at Turan's side.

The panthan turned toward the speaker, seeing a large man, handsome
of face and with a manner both stately and dignified. {}``You have
seen her?''\ he asked. {}``They captured her then? She is in danger?''

{}``She is being held in The Towers of Jetan as a prize for the next
games,'' replied the stranger.

{}``And who are you?''\ asked Turan. {}``And why are you here,
a prisoner?''

{}``I am A-Kor the dwar, keeper of The Towers of Jetan,'' replied
the other. {}``I am here because I dared speak the truth of O-Tar
the jeddak, to one of his officers.''

{}``And your punishment?''\ asked Turan.

{}``I do not know. O-Tar has not yet spoken. Doubtless the games\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]perhaps
the full ten, for O-Tar does not love A-Kor, his son.''

{}``You are the jeddak's son?''\ asked Turan.

{}``I am the son of O-Tar and of a slave, Haja of Gathol, who was
a princess in her own land.''

Turan looked searchingly at the speaker. A son of Haja of Gathol!
A son of his mother's sister, this man, then, was his own cousin.
Well did Gahan remember the mysterious disappearance of the Princess
Haja and an entire utan of her personal troops. She had been upon
a visit far from the city of Gathol and returning home had vanished
with her whole escort from the sight of man. So this was the secret
of the seeming mystery? Doubtless it explained many other similar
disappearances that extended nearly as far back as the history of
Gathol. Turan scrutinized his companion, discovering many evidences
of resemblance to his mother's people. A-Kor might have been ten years
younger than he, but such differences in age are scarce accounted
among a people who seldom or never age outwardly after maturity and
whose span of life may be a thousand years.

{}``And where lies Gathol?''\ asked Turan.

{}``Almost due east of Manator,'' replied A-Kor.

{}``And how far?''

{}``Some twenty-one degrees it is from the city of Manator to the
city of Gathol,'' replied A-Kor; {}``but little more than ten degrees
between the boundaries of the two countries. Between them, though,
there lies a country of torn rocks and yawning chasms.''

Well did Gahan know this country that bordered his upon the west\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]even
the ships of the air avoided it because of the treacherous currents
that rose from the deep chasms, and the almost total absence of safe
landings. He knew now where Manator lay and for the first time in
long weeks the way to his own Gathol, and here was a man, a fellow
prisoner, in whose veins flowed the blood of his own ancestors\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
man who knew Manator; its people, its customs and the country surrounding
it\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]one who could aid him, with advice at least,
to find a plan for the rescue of Tara of Helium and for escape. But
would A-Kor\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]could he dare broach the subject?
He could do no less than try.

{}``And O-Tar you think will sentence you to death?''\ he asked;
{}``and why?''

{}``He would like to,'' replied A-Kor, {}``for the people chafe
beneath his iron hand and their loyalty is but the loyalty of a people
to the long line of illustrious jeddaks from which he has sprung.
He is a jealous man and has found the means of disposing of most of
those whose blood might entitle them to a claim upon the throne, and
whose place in the affections of the people endowed them with any
political significance. The fact that I was the son of a slave relegated
me to a position of minor importance in the consideration of O-Tar,
yet I am still the son of a jeddak and might sit upon the throne of
Manator with as perfect congruity as O-Tar himself. Combined with
this is the fact that of recent years the people, and especially many
of the younger warriors, have evinced a growing affection for me,
which I attribute to certain virtues of character and training derived
from my mother, but which O-Tar assumes to be the result of an ambition
upon my part to occupy the throne of Manator.

{}``And now, I am firmly convinced, he has seized upon my criticism
of his treatment of the slave girl Tara as a pretext for ridding himself
of me.''

{}``But if you could escape and reach Gathol,'' suggested Turan.

{}``I have thought of that,'' mused A-Kor; {}``but how much better
off would I be? In the eyes of the Gatholians I would be, not a Gatholian;
but a stranger and doubtless they would accord me the same treatment
that we of Manator accord strangers.''

{}``Could you convince them that you are the son of the Princess
Haja your welcome would be assured,'' said Turan; {}``while on the
other hand you could purchase your freedom and citizenship with a
brief period of labor in the diamond mines.''

{}``How know you all these things?''\ asked A-Kor. {}``I thought
you were from Helium.''

{}``I am a panthan,'' replied Turan, {}``and I have served many
countries, among them Gathol.''

{}``It is what the slaves from Gathol have told me,'' said A-Kor,
thoughtfully, {}``and my mother, before O-Tar sent her to live at
Manatos. I think he must have feared her power and influence among
the slaves from Gathol and their descendants, who number perhaps a
million people throughout the land of Manator.''

{}``Are these slaves organized?''\ asked Turan.

A-Kor looked straight into the eyes of the panthan for a long moment
before he replied. {}``You are a man of honor,'' he said; {}``I
read it in your face, and I am seldom mistaken in my estimate of a
man; but\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]'' and he leaned closer to the other\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]{}``even
the walls have ears,'' he whispered, and Turan's question was answered.

It was later in the evening that warriors came and unlocked the fetter
from Turan's ankle and led him away to appear before O-Tar, the jeddak.
They conducted him toward the palace along narrow, winding streets
and broad avenues; but always from the balconies there looked down
upon them in endless ranks the silent people of the city. The palace
itself was filled with life and activity. Mounted warriors galloped
through the corridors and up and down the runways connecting adjacent
floors. It seemed that no one walked within the palace other than
a few slaves. Squealing, fighting thoats were stabled in magnificent
halls while their riders, if not upon some duty of the palace, played
at jetan with small figures carved from wood.

Turan noted the magnificence of the interior architecture of the palace,
the lavish expenditure of precious jewels and metals, the gorgeous
mural decorations which depicted almost exclusively martial scenes,
and principally duels which seemed to be fought upon jetan boards
of heroic size. The capitals of many of the columns supporting the
ceilings of the corridors and chambers through which they passed were
wrought into formal likenesses of jetan pieces\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]everywhere
there seemed a suggestion of the game. Along the same path that Tara
of Helium had been led Turan was conducted toward the throne room
of O-Tar the jeddak, and when he entered the Hall of Chiefs his interest
turned to wonder and admiration as he viewed the ranks of statuesque
thoatmen decked in their gorgeous, martial panoply. Never, he thought,
had he seen upon Barsoom more soldierly figures or thoats so perfectly
trained to perfection of immobility as these. Not a muscle quivered,
not a tail lashed, and the riders were as motionless as their mounts\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]each
warlike eye straight to the front, the great spears inclined at the
same angle. It was a picture to fill the breast of a fighting man
with awe and reverence. Nor did it fail in its effect upon Turan as
they conducted him the length of the chamber, where he waited before
great doors until he should be summoned into the presence of the ruler
of Manator.

\bigskip{}
When Tara of Helium was ushered into the throne room of O-Tar she
found the great hall filled with the chiefs and officers of O-Tar
and U-Thor, the latter occupying the place of honor at the foot of
the throne, as was his due. The girl was conducted to the foot of
the aisle and halted before the jeddak, who looked down upon her from
his high throne with scowling brows and fierce, cruel eyes.

{}``The laws of Manator are just,'' said O-Tar, addressing her;
{}``thus is it that you have been summoned here again to be judged
by the highest authority of Manator. Word has reached me that you
are suspected of being a Corphal. What word have you to say in refutation
of the charge?''

Tara of Helium could scarce restrain a sneer as she answered the ridiculous
accusation of witchcraft. {}``So ancient is the culture of my people,''
she said, {}``that authentic history reveals no defense for that
which we know existed only in the ignorant and superstitious minds
of the most primitive peoples of the past. To those who are yet so
untutored as to believe in the existence of Corphals, there can be
no argument that will convince them of their error\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]only
long ages of refinement and culture can accomplish their release from
the bondage of ignorance. I have spoken.''

{}``Yet you do not deny the accusation,'' said O-Tar.

{}``It is not worthy the dignity of a denial,'' she responded haughtily.

{}``An I were you, woman,'' said a deep voice at her side, {}``I
should, nevertheless, deny it.''

Tara of Helium turned to see the eyes of U-Thor, the great jed of
Manatos, upon her. Brave eyes they were, but neither cold nor cruel.
O-Tar rapped impatiently upon the arm of his throne. {}``U-Thor forgets,''
he cried, {}``that O-Tar is the jeddak.''

{}``U-Thor remembers,'' replied the jed of Manatos, {}``that the
laws of Manator permit any who may be accused to have advice and counsel
before their judge.''

Tara of Helium saw that for some reason this man would have assisted
her, and so she acted upon his advice.

{}``I deny the charge,'' she said, {}``I am no Corphal.''

{}``Of that we shall learn,'' snapped O-Tar. {}``U-Dor, where are
those who have knowledge of the powers of this woman?''

And U-Dor brought several who recounted the little that was known
of the disappearance of E-Med, and others who told of the capture
of Ghek and Tara, suggesting by deduction that having been found together
they had sufficient in common to make it reasonably certain that one
was as bad as the other, and that, therefore, it remained but to convict
one of them of Corphalism to make certain the guilt of both. And then
O-Tar called for Ghek, and immediately the hideous kaldane was dragged
before him by warriors who could not conceal the fear in which they
held this creature.

{}``And you!''\ said O-Tar in cold accusing tones. {}``Already
have I been told enough of you to warrant me in passing through your
heart the jeddak's steel\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]of how you stole
the brains from the warrior U-Van so that he thought he saw your headless
body still endowed with life; of how you caused another to believe
that you had escaped, making him to see naught but an empty bench
and a blank wall where you had been.''

{}``Ah, O-Tar, but that is as nothing!''\ cried a young padwar
who had come in command of the escort that brought Ghek. {}``The
thing which he did to I-Zav, here, would prove his guilt alone.''

{}``What did he to the warrior I-Zav?''\ demanded O-Tar. {}``Let
I-Zav speak!''

The warrior I-Zav, a great fellow of bulging muscles and thick neck,
advanced to the foot of the throne. He was pale and still trembling
visibly as from a nervous shock.

{}``Let my first ancestor be my witness, O-Tar, that I speak the
truth,'' he began. {}``I was left to guard this creature, who sat
upon a bench, shackled to the wall. I stood by the open doorway at
the opposite side of the chamber. He could not reach me, yet, O-Tar,
may Iss engulf me if he did not drag me to him helpless as an unhatched
egg. He dragged me to him, greatest of jeddaks, with his eyes! With
his eyes he seized upon my eyes and dragged me to him and he made
me lay my swords and dagger upon the table and back off into a corner,
and still keeping his eyes upon my eyes his head quitted his body
and crawling upon six short legs it descended to the floor and backed
part way into the hole of an ulsio, but not so far that the eyes were
not still upon me and then it returned with the key to its fetter
and after resuming its place upon its own shoulders it unlocked the
fetter and again dragged me across the room and made me to sit upon
the bench where it had been and there it fastened the fetter about
my ankle, and I could do naught for the power of its eyes and the
fact that it wore my two swords and my dagger. And then the head disappeared
down the hole of the ulsio with the key, and when it returned, it
resumed its body and stood guard over me at the doorway until the
padwar came to fetch it hither.''

{}``It is enough!''\ said O-Tar, sternly. {}``Both shall receive
the jeddak's steel,'' and rising from his throne he drew his long
sword and descended the marble steps toward them, while two brawny
warriors seized Tara by either arm and two seized Ghek, holding them
facing the naked blade of the jeddak.

{}``Hold, just O-Tar!''\ cried U-Dor. {}``There be yet another
to be judged. Let us confront him who calls himself Turan with these
his fellows before they die.''

{}``Good!''\ exclaimed O-Tar, pausing half way down the steps.
{}``Fetch Turan, the slave!''

When Turan had been brought into the chamber he was placed a little
to Tara's left and a step nearer the throne. O-Tar eyed him menacingly.

{}``You are Turan,'' he asked, {}``friend and companion of these?''

The panthan was about to reply when Tara of Helium spoke. {}``I know
not this fellow,'' she said. {}``Who dares say that he be a friend
and companion of the Princess Tara of Helium?''

Turan and Ghek looked at her in surprise, but at Turan she did not
look, and to Ghek she passed a quick glance of warning, as to say:
{}``Hold thy peace.''

The panthan tried not to fathom her purpose for the head is useless
when the heart usurps its functions, and Turan knew only that the
woman he loved had denied him, and though he tried not even to think
it his foolish heart urged but a single explanation\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]that
she refused to recognize him lest she be involved in his difficulties.

O-Tar looked first at one and then at another of them; but none of
them spoke.

{}``Were they not captured together?''\ he asked of U-Dor.

{}``No,'' replied the dwar. {}``He who is called Turan was found
seeking entrance to the city and was enticed to the pits. The following
morning I discovered the other two upon the hill beyond The Gate of
Enemies.''

{}``But they are friends and companions,'' said a young padwar,
{}``for this Turan inquired of me concerning these two, calling them
by name and saying that they were his friends.''

{}``It is enough,'' stated O-Tar, {}``all three shall die,'' and
he took another step downward from the throne.

{}``For what shall we die?''\ asked Ghek. {}``Your people prate
of the just laws of Manator, and yet you would slay three strangers
without telling them of what crime they are accused.''

{}``He is right,'' said a deep voice. It was the voice of U-Thor,
the great jed of Manatos. O-Tar looked at him and scowled; but there
came voices from other portions of the chamber seconding the demand
for justice.

{}``Then know, though you shall die anyway,'' cried O-Tar, {}``that
all three are convicted of Corphalism and that as only a jeddak may
slay such as you in safety you are about to be honored with the steel
of O-Tar.''

{}``Fool!''\ cried Turan. {}``Know you not that in the veins of
this woman flows the blood of ten thousand jeddaks\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]that
greater than yours is her power in her own land? She is Tara, Princess
of Helium, great-granddaughter of Tardos Mors, daughter of John Carter,
Warlord of Barsoom. She cannot be a Corphal. Nor is this creature
Ghek, nor am I.\ An you would know more, I can prove my right to
be heard and to be believed if I may have word with the Princess Haja
of Gathol, whose son is my fellow prisoner in the pits of O-Tar, his
father.''

At this U-Thor rose to his feet and faced O-Tar. {}``What means this?''\ 
he asked. {}``Speaks the man the truth? Is the son of Haja a prisoner
in thy pits, O-Tar?''

{}``And what is it to the jed of Manatos who be the prisoners in
the pits of his jeddak?''\ demanded O-Tar, angrily.

{}``It is this to the jed of Manatos,'' replied U-Thor in a voice
so low as to be scarce more than a whisper and yet that was heard
the whole length and breadth of the great throne room of O-Tar, Jeddak
of Manator. {}``You gave me a slave woman, Haja, who had been a princess
in Gathol, because you feared her influence among the slaves from
Gathol. I have made of her a free woman, and I have married her and
made her thus a princess of Manatos. Her son is my son, O-Tar, and
though thou be my jeddak, I say to you that for any harm that befalls
A-Kor you shall answer to U-Thor of Manatos.''

O-Tar looked long at U-Thor, but he made no reply. Then he turned
again to Turan. {}``If one be a Corphal,'' he said, {}``then all
of you be Corphals, and we know well from the things that this creature
has done,'' he pointed at Ghek, {}``that he is a Corphal, for no
mortal has such powers as he. And as you are all Corphals you must
all die.'' He took another step downward, when Ghek spoke.

{}``These two have no such powers as I,'' he said. {}``They are
but ordinary, brainless things such as yourself. I have done all the
things that your poor, ignorant warriors have told you; but this only
demonstrates that I am of a higher order than yourselves, as is indeed
the fact. I am a kaldane, not a Corphal. There is nothing supernatural
or mysterious about me, other than that to the ignorant all things
which they cannot understand are mysterious. Easily might I have eluded
your warriors and escaped your pits; but I remained in the hope that
I might help these two foolish creatures who have not the brains to
escape without help. They befriended me and saved my life. I owe them
this debt. Do not slay them\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]they are harmless.
Slay me if you will. I offer my life if it will appease your ignorant
wrath. I cannot return to Bantoom and so I might as well die, for
there is no pleasure in intercourse with the feeble intellects that
cumber the face of the world outside the valley of Bantoom.''

{}``Hideous egotist,'' said O-Tar, {}``prepare to die and assume
not to dictate to O-Tar the jeddak. He has passed sentence and all
three of you shall feel the jeddak's naked steel. I have spoken!''

He took another step downward and then a strange thing happened. He
paused, his eyes fixed upon the eyes of Ghek. His sword slipped from
nerveless fingers, and still he stood there swaying forward and back.
A jed rose to rush to his side; but Ghek stopped him with a word.

{}``Wait!''\ he cried. {}``The life of your jeddak is in my hands.
You believe me a Corphal and so you believe, too, that only the sword
of a jeddak may slay me, therefore your blades are useless against
me. Offer harm to any one of us, or seek to approach your jeddak until
I have spoken, and he shall sink lifeless to the marble. Release the
two prisoners and let them come to my side\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]I
would speak to them, privately. Quick!\ do as I say; I would as lief
as not slay O-Tar. I but let him live that I may gain freedom for
my friends\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]obstruct me and he dies.''

The guards fell back, releasing Tara and Turan, who came close to
Ghek's side.

{}``Do as I tell you and do it quickly,'' whispered the kaldane.
{}``I cannot hold this fellow long, nor could I kill him thus. There
are many minds working against mine and presently mine will tire and
O-Tar will be himself again. You must make the best of your opportunity
while you may. Behind the arras that you see hanging in the rear of
the throne above you is a secret opening. From it a corridor leads
to the pits of the palace, where there are storerooms containing food
and drink. Few people go there. From these pits lead others to all
parts of the city. Follow one that runs due west and it will bring
you to The Gate of Enemies. The rest will then lie with you. I can
do no more; hurry before my waning powers fail me\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]I
am not as Luud, who was a king. He could have held this creature forever.
Make haste! Go!''


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER XV. THE OLD MAN OF THE PITS}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER XV.\\
THE OLD MAN OF THE PITS}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{THE OLD MAN OF THE PITS}

{}``I \textit{\emph{shall}} not desert you, Ghek,'' said Tara of
Helium, simply.

{}``Go! Go!''\ whispered the kaldane. {}``You can do me no good.
Go, or all I have done is for naught.''

Tara shook her head. {}``I cannot,'' she said.

{}``They will slay her,'' said Ghek to Turan, and the panthan, torn
between loyalty to this strange creature who had offered its life
for him, and love of the woman, hesitated but a moment, then he swept
Tara from her feet and lifting her in his arms leaped up the steps
that led to the throne of Manator. Behind the throne he parted the
arras and found the secret opening. Into this he bore the girl and
down a long, narrow corridor and winding runways that led to lower
levels until they came to the pits of the palace of O-Tar. Here was
a labyrinth of passages and chambers presenting a thousand hiding-places.

As Turan bore Tara up the steps toward the throne a score of warriors
rose as though to rush forward to intercept them. {}``Stay!''\ cried
Ghek, {}``or your jeddak dies,'' and they halted in their tracks,
waiting the will of this strange, uncanny creature.

Presently Ghek took his eyes from the eyes of O-Tar and the jeddak
shook himself as one who would be rid of a bad dream and straightened
up, half dazed still.

{}``Look,'' said Ghek, then, {}``I have given your jeddak his life,
nor have I harmed one of those whom I might easily have slain when
they were in my power. No harm have I or my friends done in the city
of Manator. Why then should you persecute us? Give us our lives. Give
us our liberty.''

O-Tar, now in command of his faculties, stooped and regained his sword.
In the room was silence as all waited to hear the jeddak's answer.

{}``Just are the laws of Manator,'' he said at last. {}``Perhaps,
after all, there is truth in the words of the stranger. Return him
then to the pits and pursue the others and capture them. Through the
mercy of O-Tar they shall be permitted to win their freedom upon the
Field of Jetan, in the coming games.''

Still ashen was the face of the jeddak as Ghek was led away and his
appearance was that of a man who had been snatched from the brink
of eternity into which he has gazed, not with the composure of great
courage, but with fear. There were those in the throne room who knew
that the execution of the three prisoners had but been delayed and
the responsibility placed upon the shoulders of others, and one of
those who knew was U-Thor, the great jed of Manatos. His curling lip
betokened his scorn of the jeddak who had chosen humiliation rather
than death. He knew that O-Tar had lost more of prestige in those
few moments than he could regain in a lifetime, for the Martians are
jealous of the courage of their chiefs\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]there
can be no evasions of stern duty, no temporizing with honor. That
there were others in the room who shared U-Thor's belief was evidenced
by the silence and the grim scowls.

O-Tar glanced quickly around. He must have sensed the hostility and
guessed its cause, for he went suddenly angry, and as one who seeks
by the vehemence of his words to establish the courage of his heart
he roared forth what could be considered as naught other than a challenge.

{}``The will of O-Tar, the jeddak, is the law of Manator,'' he cried,
{}``and the laws of Manator are just\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]they
cannot err. U-Dor, dispatch those who will search the palace, the
pits, and the city, and return the fugitives to their cells.

{}``And now for you, U-Thor of Manatos! Think you with impunity to
threaten your jeddak\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]to question his right
to punish traitors and instigators of treason? What am I to think
of your own loyalty, who takes to wife a woman I have banished from
my court because of her intrigues against the authority of her jeddak
and her master? But O-Tar is just. Make your explanations and your
peace, then, before it is too late.''

{}``U-Thor has nothing to explain,'' replied the jed of Manatos;
{}``nor is he at war with his jeddak; but he has the right that every
jed and every warrior enjoys, of demanding justice at the hands of
the jeddak for whomsoever he believes to be persecuted. With increasing
rigor has the jeddak of Manator persecuted the slaves from Gathol
since he took to himself the unwilling Princess Haja. If the slaves
from Gathol have harbored thoughts of vengeance and escape 'tis no
more than might be expected from a proud and courageous people Ever
have I counselled greater fairness in our treatment of our slaves,
many of whom, in their own lands, are people of great distinction
and power; but always has O-Tar, the jeddak, flouted with arrogance
my every suggestion. Though it has been through none of my seeking
that the question has arisen now I am glad that it has, for the time
was bound to come when the jeds of Manator would demand from O-Tar
the respect and consideration that is their due from the man who holds
his high office at their pleasure. Know, then, O-Tar, that you must
free A-Kor, the dwar, forthwith or bring him to fair trial before
the assembled jeds of Manator. I have spoken.''

{}``You have spoken well and to the point, U-Thor,'' cried O-Tar,
{}``for you have revealed to your jeddak and your fellow jeds the
depth of the disloyalty that I have long suspected. A-Kor already
has been tried and sentenced by the supreme tribunal of Manator\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]O-Tar,
the jeddak; and you too shall receive justice from the same unfailing
source. In the meantime you are under arrest. To the pits with him!
To the pits with U-Thor the false jed!''\ He clapped his hands to
summon the surrounding warriors to do his bidding. A score leaped
forward to seize U-Thor. They were warriors of the palace, mostly;
but two score leaped to defend U-Thor, and with ringing steel they
fought at the foot of the steps to the throne of Manator where stood
O-Tar, the jeddak, with drawn sword ready to take his part in the
melee.

At the clash of steel, palace guards rushed to the scene from other
parts of the great building until those who would have defended U-Thor
were outnumbered two to one, and then the jed of Manatos slowly withdrew
with his forces, and fighting his way through the corridors and chambers
of the palace came at last to the avenue. Here he was reinforced by
the little army that had marched with him into Manator. Slowly they
retreated toward The Gate of Enemies between the rows of silent people
looking down upon them from the balconies and there, within the city
walls, they made their stand.

\bigskip{}
In a dimly-lighted chamber beneath the palace of O-Tar the jeddak,
Turan the panthan lowered Tara of Helium from his arms and faced her.
{}``I am sorry, Princess,'' he said, {}``that I was forced to disobey
your commands, or to abandon Ghek; but there was no other way. Could
he have saved you I would have stayed in his place. Tell me that you
forgive me.''

{}``How could I do less?''\ she replied graciously. {}``But it
seemed cowardly to abandon a friend.''

{}``Had we been three fighting men it had been different,'' he said.
{}``We could only have remained and died together, fighting; but
you know, Tara of Helium, that we may not jeopardize a woman's safety
even though we risk the loss of honor.''

{}``I know that, Turan,'' she said; {}``but no one may say that
you have risked honor, who knows the honor and bravery that are yours.''

He heard her with surprise for these were the first words that she
had spoken to him that did not savor of the attitude of a princess
to a panthan\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]though it was more in her tone
than the actual words that he apprehended the difference. How at variance
were they to her recent repudiation of him! He could not fathom her,
and so he blurted out the question that had been in his mind since
she had told O-Tar that she did not know him.

{}``Tara of Helium,'' he said, {}``your words are balm to the wound
you gave me in the throne room of O-Tar. Tell me, Princess, why you
denied me.''

She turned her great, deep eyes up to his and in them was a little
of reproach.

{}``You did not guess,'' she asked, {}``that it was my lips alone
and not my heart that denied you? O-Tar had ordered that I die, more
because I was a companion of Ghek than because of any evidence against
me, and so I knew that if I acknowledged you as one of us, you would
be slain, too.''

{}``It was to save me, then?''\ he cried, his face suddenly lighting.

{}``It was to save my brave panthan,'' she said in a low voice.

{}``Tara of Helium,'' said the warrior, dropping to one knee, {}``your
words are as food to my hungry heart,'' and he took her fingers in
his and pressed them to his lips.

Gently she raised him to his feet. {}``You need not tell me, kneeling,''
she said, softly.

Her hand was still in his as he rose and they were very close, and
the man was still flushed with the contact of her body since he had
carried her from the throne room of O-Tar. He felt his heart pounding
in his breast and the hot blood surging through his veins as he looked
at her beautiful face, with its downcast eyes and the half-parted
lips that he would have given a kingdom to possess, and then he swept
her to him and as he crushed her against his breast his lips smothered
hers with kisses.

But only for an instant. Like a tigress the girl turned upon him,
striking him, and thrusting him away. She stepped back, her head high
and her eyes flashing fire. {}``You would dare?''\ she cried. {}``You
would dare thus defile a princess of Helium?''

His eyes met hers squarely and there was no shame and no remorse in
them.

{}``Yes, I would dare,'' he said. {}``I would dare love Tara of
Helium; but I would not dare defile her or any woman with kisses that
were not prompted by love of her alone.'' He stepped closer to her
and laid his hands upon her shoulders. {}``Look into my eyes, daughter
of The Warlord,'' he said, {}``and tell me that you do not wish
the love of Turan, the panthan.''

{}``I do not wish your love,'' she cried, pulling away. {}``I hate
you!''\ and then turning away she bent her head into the hollow
of her arm, and wept.

The man took a step toward her as though to comfort her when he was
arrested by the sound of a crackling laugh behind him. Wheeling about,
he discovered a strange figure of a man standing in a doorway. It
was one of those rarities occasionally to be seen upon Barsoom\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]an
old man with the signs of age upon him. Bent and wrinkled, he had
more the appearance of a mummy than a man.

{}``Love in the pits of O-Tar!''\ he cried, and again his thin
laughter jarred upon the silence of the subterranean vaults. {}``A
strange place to woo! A strange place to woo, indeed! When I was a
young man we roamed in the gardens beneath giant pimalias and stole
our kisses in the brief shadows of hurtling Thuria. We came not to
the gloomy pits to speak of love; but times have changed and ways
have changed, though I had never thought to live to see the time when
the way of a man with a maid, or a maid with a man would change. Ah,
but we kissed them then! And what if they objected, eh? What if they
objected? Why, we kissed them more. Ey, ey, those were the days!''\ and
he cackled again. {}``Ey, well do I recall the first of them I ever
kissed, and I've kissed an army of them since; she was a fine girl,
but she tried to slip a dagger into me while I was kissing her. Ey,
ey, those were the days! But I kissed her. She's been dead over a
thousand years now, but she was never kissed again like that while
she lived, I'll swear, not since she's been dead, either. And then
there was that other\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]'' but Turan, seeing
a thousand or more years of osculatory memoirs portending, interrupted.

{}``Tell me, ancient one,'' he said, {}``not of thy loves but of
thyself. Who are you? What do you here in the pits of O-Tar?''

{}``I might ask you the same, young man,'' replied the other. {}``Few
there are who visit the pits other than the dead, except my pupils\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]ey!
That is it\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]you are new pupils! Good! But never
before have they sent a woman to learn the great art from the greatest
artist. But times have changed. Now, in my day the women did no work\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]they
were just for kissing and loving. Ey, those were the women. I mind
the one we captured in the south\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]ey!\ she
was a devil, but how she could love. She had breasts of marble and
a heart of fire. Why, she\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]''

{}``Yes, yes,'' interrupted Turan; {}``we are pupils, and we are
anxious to get to work. Lead on and we will follow.''

{}``Ey, yes! Ey, yes! Come! All is rush and hurry as though there
were not another countless myriad of ages ahead. Ey, yes!\ as many
as lie behind. Two thousand years have passed since I broke my shell
and always rush, rush, rush, yet I cannot see that aught has been
accomplished. Manator is the same today as it was then\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]except
the girls. We had the girls then. There was one that I gained upon
The Fields of Jetan. Ey, but you should have \mbox{seen\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]''}\linebreak[1]

{}``Lead on!''\ cried Turan. {}``After we are at work you shall
tell us of her.''

{}``Ey, yes,'' said the old fellow and shuffled off down a dimly
lighted passage. {}``Follow me!''

{}``You are going with him?''\ asked Tara.

{}``Why not?''\ replied Turan. {}``We know not where we are, or
the way from these pits; for I know not east from west; but he doubtless
knows and if we are shrewd we may learn from him that which we would
know. At least we cannot afford to arouse his suspicions''; and so
they followed him\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]followed along winding corridors
and through many chambers, until they came at last to a room in which
there were several marble slabs raised upon pedestals some three feet
above the floor and upon each slab lay a human corpse.

{}``Here we are,'' exclaimed the old man. {}``These are fresh and
we shall have to get to work upon them soon. I am working now on one
for The Gate of Enemies. He slew many of our warriors. Truly is he
entitled to a place in The Gate. Come, you shall see him.''

He led them to an adjoining apartment. Upon the floor were many fresh,
human bones and upon a marble slab a mass of shapeless flesh.

{}``You will learn this later,'' announced the old man; {}``but
it will not harm you to watch me now, for there are not many thus
prepared, and it may be long before you will have the opportunity
to see another prepared for The Gate of Enemies. First, you see, I
remove all the bones, carefully that the skin may be damaged as little
as possible. The skull is the most difficult, but it can be removed
by a skilful artist. You see, I have made but a single opening. This
I now sew up, and that done, the body is hung so,'' and he fastened
a piece of rope to the hair of the corpse and swung the horrid thing
to a ring in the ceiling. Directly below it was a circular manhole
in the floor from which he removed the cover revealing a well partially
filled with a reddish liquid. {}``Now we lower it into this, the
formula for which you shall learn in due time. We fasten it thus to
the bottom of the cover, which we now replace. In a year it will be
ready; but it must be examined often in the meantime and the liquid
kept above the level of its crown. It will be a very beautiful piece,
this one, when it is ready.

{}``And you are fortunate again, for there is one to come out today.''
He crossed to the opposite side of the room and raised another cover,
reached in and dragged a grotesque looking figure from the hole. It
was a human body, shrunk by the action of the chemical in which it
had been immersed, to a little figure scarce a foot high.

{}``Ey!\ is it not fine?''\ cried the little old man. {}``Tomorrow
it will take its place in The Gate of Enemies.'' He dried it off
with cloths and packed it away carefully in a basket. {}``Perhaps
you would like to see some of my life work,'' he suggested, and without
waiting for their assent led them to another apartment, a large chamber
in which were forty or fifty people. All were sitting or standing
quietly about the walls, with the exception of one huge warrior who
bestrode a great thoat in the very center of the room, and all were
motionless. Instantly there sprang to the minds of Tara and Turan
the rows of silent people upon the balconies that lined the avenues
of the city, and the noble array of mounted warriors in The Hall of
Chiefs, and the same explanation came to both but neither dared voice
the question that was in his mind, for fear of revealing by his ignorance
the fact that they were strangers in Manator and therefore impostors
in the guise of pupils.

{}``It is very wonderful,'' said Turan. {}``It must require great
skill and patience and time.''

{}``That it does,'' replied the old man, {}``though having done
it so long I am quicker than most; but mine are the most natural.
Why, I would defy the wife of that warrior to say that insofar as
appearances are concerned he does not live,'' and he pointed at the
man upon the thoat. {}``Many of them, of course, are brought here
wasted or badly wounded and these I have to repair. That is where
great skill is required, for everyone wants his dead to look as they
did at their best in life; but you shall learn\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]to
mount them and paint them and repair them and sometimes to make an
ugly one look beautiful. And it will be a great comfort to be able
to mount your own. Why, for fifteen hundred years no one has mounted
my own dead but myself.

{}``I have many, my balconies are crowded with them; but I keep a
great room for my wives. I have them all, as far back as the first
one, and many is the evening I spend with them\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]quiet
evenings and very pleasant. And then the pleasure of preparing them
and making them even more beautiful than in life partially recompenses
one for their loss. I take my time with them, looking for a new one
while I am working on the old. When I am not sure about a new one
I bring her to the chamber where my wives are, and compare her charms
with theirs, and there is always a great satisfaction at such times
in knowing that they will not object. I love harmony.''

{}``Did you prepare all the warriors in The Hall of Chiefs?''\ asked
Turan.

{}``Yes, I prepare them and repair them,'' replied the old man.
{}``O-Tar will trust no other. Even now I have two in another room
who were damaged in some way and brought down to me. O-Tar does not
like to have them gone long, since it leaves two riderless thoats
in the Hall; but I shall have them ready presently. He wants them
all there in the event any momentous question arises upon which the
living jeds cannot agree, or do not agree with O-Tar. Such questions
he carries to the jeds in The Hall of Chiefs. There he shuts himself
up alone with the great chiefs who have attained wisdom through death.
It is an excellent plan and there is never any friction or misunderstandings.
O-Tar has said that it is the finest deliberative body upon Barsoom\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]much
more intelligent than that composed of the living jeds. But come,
we must get to work; come into the next chamber and I will begin your
instruction.''

He led the way into the chamber in which lay the several corpses upon
their marble slabs, and going to a cabinet he donned a pair of huge
spectacles and commenced to select various tools from little compartments.
This done he turned again toward his two pupils.

{}``Now let me have a look at you,'' he said. {}``My eyes are not
what they once were, and I need these powerful lenses for my work,
or to see distinctly the features of those around me.''

He turned his eyes upon the two before him. Turan held his breath
for he knew that now the man must discover that they wore not the
harness or insignia of Manator. He had wondered before why the old
fellow had not noticed it, for he had not known that he was half blind.
The other examined their faces, his eyes lingering long upon the beauty
of Tara of Helium, and then they drifted to the harness of the two.
Turan thought that he noted an appreciable start of surprise on the
part of the taxidermist, but if the old man noticed anything his next
words did not reveal it.

{}``Come with I-Gos,'' he said to Turan, {}``I have materials in
the next room that I would have you fetch hither. Remain here, woman,
we shall be gone but a moment.''

He led the way to one of the numerous doors opening into the chamber
and entered ahead of Turan. Just inside the door he stopped, and pointing
to a bundle of silks and furs upon the opposite side of the room directed
Turan to fetch them. The latter had crossed the room and was stooping
to raise the bundle when he heard the click of a lock behind him.
Wheeling instantly he saw that he was alone in the room and that the
single door was closed. Running rapidly to it he strove to open it,
only to find that he was a prisoner.

I-Gos, stepping out and locking the door behind him, turned toward
Tara.

{}``Your leather betrayed you,'' he said, laughing his cackling
laugh. {}``You sought to deceive old I-Gos, but you found that though
his eyes are weak his brain is not. But it shall not go ill with you.
You are beautiful and I-Gos loves beautiful women. I might not have
you elsewhere in Manator, but here there is none to deny old I-Gos.
Few come to the pits of the dead\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]only those
who bring the dead and they hasten away as fast as they can. No one
will know that I-Gos has a beautiful woman locked with his dead. I
shall ask you no questions and then I will not have to give you up,
for I will not know to whom you belong, eh? And when you die I shall
mount you beautifully and place you in the chamber with my other women.
Will not that be fine, eh?''\ He had approached until he stood close
beside the horrified girl. {}``Come!''\ he cried, seizing her by
the wrist. {}``Come to I-Gos!''


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER XVI. ANOTHER CHANGE OF NAME}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER XVI.\\
ANOTHER CHANGE OF NAME}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{ANOTHER CHANGE OF NAME}

\textit{\emph{Turan}} dashed himself against the door of his prison
in a vain effort to break through the solid skeel to the side of Tara
whom he knew to be in grave danger, but the heavy panels held and
he succeeded only in bruising his shoulders and his arms. At last
he desisted and set about searching his prison for some other means
of escape. He found no other opening in the stone walls, but his search
revealed a heterogeneous collection of odds and ends of arms and apparel,
of harness and ornaments and insignia, and sleeping silks and furs
in great quantities. There were swords and spears and several large,
two-bladed battle-axes, the heads of which bore a striking resemblance
to the propellor of a small flier. Seizing one of these he attacked
the door once more with great fury. He expected to hear something
from I-Gos at this ruthless destruction, but no sound came to him
from beyond the door, which was, he thought, too thick for the human
voice to penetrate; but he would have wagered much that I-Gos heard
him. Bits of the hard wood splintered at each impact of the heavy
axe, but it was slow work and heavy. Presently he was compelled to
rest, and so it went for what seemed hours\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]working
almost to the verge of exhaustion and then resting for a few minutes;
but ever the hole grew larger though he could see nothing of the interior
of the room beyond because of the hanging that I-Gos had drawn across
it after he had locked Turan within.

At last, however, the panthan had hewn an opening through which his
body could pass, and seizing a long-sword that he had brought close
to the door for the purpose he crawled through into the next room.
Flinging aside the arras he stood ready, sword in hand, to fight his
way to the side of Tara of Helium\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]but she
was not there. In the center of the room lay I-Gos, dead upon the
floor; but Tara of Helium was nowhere to be seen.

Turan was nonplussed. It must have been her hand that had struck down
the old man, yet she had made no effort to release Turan from his
prison. And then he thought of those last words of hers: {}``I do
not want your love! I hate you,'' and the truth dawned upon him\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]she
had seized upon this first opportunity to escape him. With downcast
heart Turan turned away. What should he do? There could be but one
answer. While he lived and she lived he must still leave no stone
unturned to effect her escape and safe return to the land of her people.
But how? How was he even to find his way from this labyrinth? How
was he to find her again? He walked to the nearest doorway. It chanced
to be that which led into the room containing the mounted dead, awaiting
transportation to balcony or grim room or whatever place was to receive
them. His eyes travelled to the great, painted warrior on the thoat
and as they ran over the splendid trappings and the serviceable arms
a new light came into the pain-dulled eyes of the panthan. With a
quick step he crossed to the side of the dead warrior and dragged
him from his mount. With equal celerity he stripped him of his harness
and his arms, and tearing off his own, donned the regalia of the dead
man. Then he hastened back to the room in which he had been trapped,
for there he had seen that which he needed to make his disguise complete.
In a cabinet he found them\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]pots of paint that
the old taxidermist had used to place the war-paint in its wide bands
across the cold faces of dead warriors.

A few moments later Gahan of Gathol emerged from the room a warrior
of Manator in every detail of harness, equipment, and ornamentation.
He had removed from the leather of the dead man the insignia of his
house and rank so that he might pass, with the least danger of arousing
suspicion, as a common warrior.

To search for Tara of Helium in the vast, dim labyrinth of the pits
of O-Tar seemed to the Gatholian a hopeless quest, foredoomed to failure.
It would be wiser to seek the streets of Manator where he might hope
to learn first if she had been recaptured and, if not, then he could
return to the pits and pursue the hunt for her. To find egress from
the maze he must perforce travel a considerable distance through the
winding corridors and chambers, since he had no idea as to the location
or direction of any exit. In fact, he could not have retraced his
steps a hundred yards toward the point at which he and Tara had entered
the gloomy caverns, and so he set out in the hope that he might find
by accident either Tara of Helium or a way to the street level above.

For a time he passed room after room filled with the cunningly preserved
dead of Manator, many of which were piled in tiers after the manner
that firewood is corded, and as he moved through corridor and chamber
he noticed hieroglyphics painted upon the walls above every opening
and at each fork or crossing of corridors, until by observation he
reached the conclusion that these indicated the designations of passageways,
so that one who understood them might travel quickly and surely through
the pits; but Turan did not understand them. Even could he have read
the language of Manator they might not materially have aided one unfamiliar
with the city; but he could not read them at all since, though there
is but one spoken language upon Barsoom, there are as many different
written languages as there are nations. One thing, however, soon became
apparent to him\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the hieroglyphic of a corridor
remained the same until the corridor ended.

It was not long before Turan realized from the distance that he had
traveled that the pits were part of a vast system undermining, possibly,
the entire city. At least he was convinced that he had passed beyond
the precincts of the palace. The corridors and chambers varied in
appearance and architecture from time to time. All were lighted, though
usually quite dimly, with radium bulbs. For a long time he saw no
signs of life other than an occasional ulsio, then quite suddenly
he came face to face with a warrior at one of the numerous crossings.
The fellow looked at him, nodded, and passed on. Turan breathed a
sigh of relief as he realized that his disguise was effective, but
he was caught in the middle of it by a hail from the warrior who had
stopped and turned toward him. The panthan was glad that a sword hung
at his side, and glad too that they were buried in the dim recesses
of the pits and that there would be but a single antagonist, for time
was precious.

{}``Heard you any word of the other?''\ called the warrior to him.

{}``No,'' replied Turan, who had not the faintest idea to whom or
what the fellow referred.

{}``He cannot escape,'' continued the warrior. {}``The woman ran
directly into our arms, but she swore that she knew not where her
companion might be found.''

{}``They took her back to O-Tar?''\ asked Turan, for now he knew
whom the other meant, and he would know more.

{}``They took her back to The Towers of Jetan,'' replied the warrior.
{}``Tomorrow the games commence and doubtless she will be played
for, though I doubt if any wants her, beautiful as she is. She fears
not even O-Tar. By Cluros!\ but she would make a hard slave to subdue\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
regular she-banth she is. Not for me,'' and he continued on his way
shaking his head.

Turan hurried on searching for an avenue that led to the level of
the streets above when suddenly he came to the open doorway of a small
chamber in which sat a man who was chained to the wall. Turan voiced
a low exclamation of surprise and pleasure as he recognized that the
man was A-Kor, and that he had stumbled by accident upon the very
cell in which he had been imprisoned. A-Kor looked at him questioningly.
It was evident that he did not recognize his fellow prisoner. Turan
crossed to the table and leaning close to the other whispered to him.

{}``I am Turan the panthan,'' he said, {}``who was chained beside
you.''

A-Kor looked at him closely. {}``Your own mother would never know
you!''\ he said; {}``but tell me, what has transpired since they
took you away?''

Turan recounted his experiences in the throne room of O-Tar and in
the pits beneath, {}``and now,'' he continued, {}``I must find
these Towers of Jetan and see what may be done toward liberating the
Princess of Helium.''

A-Kor shook his head. {}``Long was I dwar of the Towers,'' he said,
{}``and I can say to you, stranger, that you might as well attempt
to reduce Manator, single handed, as to rescue a prisoner from The
Towers of Jetan.''

{}``But I must,'' replied Turan.

{}``Are you better than a good swordsman?''\ asked A-Kor presently.

{}``I am accounted so,'' replied Turan.

{}``Then there is a way\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]sst!''\ he was
suddenly silent and pointing toward the base of the wall at the end
of the room.

Turan looked in the direction the other's forefinger indicated, to
see projecting from the mouth of an ulsio's burrow two large chel\ae{}
and a pair of protruding eyes.

{}``Ghek!''\ he cried and immediately the hideous kaldane crawled
out upon the floor and approached the table. A-Kor drew back with
a half-stifled ejaculation of repulsion. {}``Do not fear,'' Turan
reassured him. {}``It is my friend\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]he whom
I told you held O-Tar while Tara and I escaped.''

Ghek climbed to the table top and squatted between the two warriors.
{}``You are safe in assuming,'' he said addressing A-Kor, {}``that
Turan the panthan has no master in all Manator where the art of sword-play
is concerned. I overheard your conversation\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]go
on.''

{}``You are his friend,'' continued A-Kor, {}``and so I may explain
safely in your presence the only plan I know whereby he may hope to
rescue the Princess of Helium. She is to be the stake of one of the
games and it is O-Tar's desire that she be won by slaves and common
warriors, since she repulsed him. Thus would he punish her. Not a
single man, but all who survive upon the winning side are to possess
her. With money, however, one may buy off the others before the game.
That you could do, and if your side won and you survived she would
become your slave.''

{}``But how may a stranger and a hunted fugitive accomplish this?''\ 
asked Turan.

{}``No one will recognize you. You will go tomorrow to the keeper
of the Towers and enlist in that game for which the girl is to be
the stake, telling the keeper that you are from Manataj, the farthest
city of Manator. If he questions you, you may say that you saw her
when she was brought into the city after her capture. If you win her,
you will find thoats stabled at my palace and you will carry from
me a token that will place all that is mine at your disposal.''

{}``But how can I buy off the others in the game without money?''\ 
asked Turan. {}``I have none\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]not even of
my own country.''

A-Kor opened his pocket-pouch and drew forth a packet of Manatorian
money.

{}``Here is sufficient to buy them off twice over,'' he said, handing
a portion of it to Turan.

{}``But why do you do this for a stranger?''\ asked the panthan.

{}``My mother was a captive princess here,'' replied A-Kor. {}``I
but do for the Princess of Helium what my mother would have me do.''

{}``Under the circumstances, then, Manatorian,'' replied Turan,
{}``I cannot but accept your generosity on behalf of Tara of Helium
and live in hope that some day I may do for you something in return.''

{}``Now you must be gone,'' advised A-Kor. {}``At any minute a
guard may come and discover you here. Go directly to the Avenue of
Gates, which circles the city just within the outer wall. There you
will find many places devoted to the lodging of strangers. You will
know them by the thoat's head carved above the doors. Say that you
are here from Manataj to witness the games. Take the name of U-Kal\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]it
will arouse no suspicion, nor will you if you can avoid conversation.
Early in the morning seek the keeper of The Towers of Jetan. May the
strength and fortune of all your ancestors be with you!''

Bidding good-bye to Ghek and A-Kor, the panthan, following directions
given him by A-Kor, set out to find his way to the Avenue of Gates,
nor had he any great difficulty. On the way he met several warriors,
but beyond a nod they gave him no heed. With ease he found a lodging
place where there were many strangers from other cities of Manator.
As he had had no sleep since the previous night he threw himself among
the silks and furs of his couch to gain the rest which he must have,
was he to give the best possible account of himself in the service
of Tara of Helium the following day.

It was already morning when he awoke, and rising he paid for his lodgings,
sought a place to eat, and a short time later was on his way toward
The Towers of Jetan, which he had no difficulty in finding owing to
the great crowds that were winding along the avenues toward the games.
The new keeper of The Towers who had succeeded E-Med was too busy
to scrutinize entries closely, for in addition to the many volunteer
players there were scores of slaves and prisoners being forced into
the games by their owners or the government. The name of each must
be recorded as well as the position he was to play and the game or
games in which he was to be entered, and then there were the substitutes
for each that was entered in more than a single game\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]one
for each additional game that an individual was entered for, that
no succeeding game might be delayed by the death or disablement of
a player.

{}``Your name?''\ asked a clerk as Turan presented himself.

{}``U-Kal,'' replied the panthan.

{}``Your city?''

{}``Manataj.''

The keeper, who was standing beside the clerk, looked at Turan. {}``You
have come a great way to play at jetan,'' he said. {}``It is seldom
that the men of Manataj attend other than the decennial games. Tell
me of O-Zar! Will he attend next year? Ah, but he was a noble fighter.
If you be half the swordsman, U-Kal, the fame of Manataj will increase
this day. But tell me, what of O-Zar?''

{}``He is well,'' replied Turan, glibly, {}``and he sent greetings
to his friends in Manator.''

{}``Good!''\ exclaimed the keeper, {}``and now in what game would
you enter?''

{}``I would play for the Heliumetic princess, Tara,'' replied Turan.

{}``But man, she is to be the stake of a game for slaves and criminals,''
cried the keeper. {}``You would not volunteer for such a game!''

{}``But I would,'' replied Turan. {}``I saw her when she was brought
into the city and even then I vowed to possess her.''

{}``But you will have to share her with the survivors even if your
color wins,'' objected the other.

{}``They may be brought to reason,'' insisted Turan.

{}``And you will chance incurring the wrath of O-Tar, who has no
love for this savage barbarian,'' explained the keeper.

{}``An I win her O-Tar will be rid of her,'' said Turan.

The keeper of The Towers of Jetan shook his head. {}``You are rash,''
he said. {}``I would that I might dissuade the friend of my friend
O-Zar from such madness.''

{}``Would you favor the friend of O-Zar?''\ asked Turan.

{}``Gladly!''\ exclaimed the other. {}``What may I do for him?''

{}``Make me chief of the Black and give me for my pieces all slaves
from Gathol, for I understand that those be excellent warriors,''
replied the panthan.

{}``It is a strange request,'' said the keeper, {}``but for my
friend O-Zar I would do even more, though of course\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]''
he hesitated\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]{}``it is customary for one
who would be chief to make some slight payment.''

{}``Certainly,'' Turan hastened to assure him; {}``I had not forgotten
that. I was about to ask you what the customary amount is.''

{}``For the friend of my friend it shall be nominal,'' replied the
keeper, naming a figure that Gahan, accustomed to the high price of
wealthy Gathol, thought ridiculously low.

{}``Tell me,'' he said, handing the money to the keeper, {}``when
the game for the Heliumite is to be played.''

{}``It is the second in order of the day's games; and now if you
will come with me you may select your pieces.''

Turan followed the keeper to a large court which lay between the towers
and the jetan field, where hundreds of warriors were assembled. Already
chiefs for the games of the day were selecting their pieces and assigning
them to positions, though for the principal games these matters had
been arranged for weeks before. The keeper led Turan to a part of
the courtyard where the majority of the slaves were assembled.

{}``Take your choice of those not assigned,'' said the keeper, {}``and
when you have your quota conduct them to the field. Your place will
be assigned you by an officer there, and there you will remain with
your pieces until the second game is called. I wish you luck, U-Kal,
though from what I have heard you will be more lucky to lose than
to win the slave from Helium.''

After the fellow had departed Turan approached the slaves. {}``I
seek the best swordsmen for the second game,'' he announced. {}``Men
from Gathol I wish, for I have heard that these be noble fighters.''

A slave rose and approached him. {}``It is all the same in which
game we die,'' he said. {}``I would fight for you as a panthan in
the second game.''

Another came. {}``I am not from Gathol,'' he said. {}``I am from
Helium, and I would fight for the honor of a princess of Helium.''

{}``Good!''\ exclaimed Turan. {}``Art a swordsman of repute in
Helium?''

{}``I was a dwar under the great Warlord, and I have fought at his
side in a score of battles from The Golden Cliffs to The Carrion Caves.
My name is Val Dor. Who knows Helium, knows my prowess.''

The name was well known to Gahan, who had heard the man spoken of
on his last visit to Helium, and his mysterious disappearance discussed
as well as his renown as a fighter.

{}``How could I know aught of Helium?''\ asked Turan; {}``but
if you be such a fighter as you say no position could suit you better
than that of Flier. What say you?''

The man's eyes denoted sudden surprise. He looked keenly at Turan,
his eyes running quickly over the other's harness. Then he stepped
quite close so that his words might not be overheard.

{}``Methinks you may know more of Helium than of Manator,'' he whispered.

{}``What mean you, fellow?''\ demanded Turan, seeking to cudgel
his brains for the source of this man's knowledge, guess, or inspiration.

{}``I mean,'' replied Val Dor, {}``that you are not of Manator
and that if you wish to hide the fact it is well that you speak not
to a Manatorian as you did just speak to me of\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]Fliers!
There be no Fliers in Manator and no piece in their game of Jetan
bearing that name. Instead they call him who stands next to the Chief
or Princess, Odwar. The piece has the same moves and power that the
Flier has in the game as played outside Manator. Remember this then
and remember, too, that if you have a secret it be safe in the keeping
of Val Dor of Helium.''

Turan made no reply but turned to the task of selecting the remainder
of his pieces. Val Dor, the Heliumite, and Floran, the volunteer from
Gathol, were of great assistance to him, since one or the other of
them knew most of the slaves from whom his selection was to be made.
The pieces all chosen, Turan led them to the place beside the playing
field where they were to wait their turn, and here he passed the word
around that they were to fight for more than the stake he offered
for the princess should they win. This stake they accepted, so that
Turan was sure of possessing Tara if his side was victorious, but
he knew that these men would fight even more valorously for chivalry
than for money, nor was it difficult to enlist the interest even of
the Gatholians in the service of the princess. And now he held out
the possibility of a still further reward.

{}``I cannot promise you,'' he explained, {}``but I may say I have
heard that this day which makes it possible that should we win this
game we may even win your freedom!''

They leaped to their feet and crowded around him with many questions.

{}``It may not be spoken of aloud,'' he said; {}``but Floran and
Val Dor know and they assure me that you may all be trusted. Listen!
What I would tell you places my life in your hands, but you must know
that every man will realize that he is fighting today the greatest
battle of his life\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]for the honor and the freedom
of Barsoom's most wondrous princess and for his own freedom as well\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]for
the chance to return each to his own country and to the woman who
awaits him there.

{}``First, then, is my secret. I am not of Manator. Like yourselves
I am a slave, though for the moment disguised as a Manatorian from
Manataj. My country and my identity must remain undisclosed for reasons
that have no bearing upon our game today. I, then, am one of you.
I fight for the same things that you will fight for.

{}``And now for that which I have but just learned. U-Thor, the great
jed of Manatos, quarreled with O-Tar in the palace the day before
yesterday and their warriors set upon one another. U-Thor was driven
as far as The Gate of Enemies, where he now lies encamped. At any
moment the fight may be renewed; but it is thought that U-Thor has
sent to Manatos for reinforcements. Now, men of Gathol, here is the
thing that interests you. U-Thor has recently taken to wife the Princess
Haja of Gathol, who was slave to O-Tar and whose son, A-Kor, was dwar
of The Towers of Jetan. Haja's heart is filled with loyalty for Gathol
and compassion for her sons who are here enslaved, and this latter
sentiment she has to some extent transmitted to U-Thor. Aid me, therefore,
in freeing the Princess Tara of Helium and I believe that I can aid
you and her and myself to escape the city. Bend close your ears, slaves
of O-Tar, that no cruel enemy may hear my words,'' and Gahan of Gathol
whispered in low tones the daring plan he had conceived. {}``And
now,'' he demanded, when he had finished, {}``let him who does not
dare speak now.'' None replied. {}``Is there none?''

{}``An it would not betray you should I cast my sword at thy feet,
it had been done ere this,'' said one in low tones pregnant with
suppressed feeling.

{}``And I!''\ {}\linebreak[1]{}``And I!''\ {}{}``And I!''\ chorused
the others in vibrant whispers.


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER XVII. A PLAY TO THE DEATH}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER XVII.\\
A PLAY TO THE DEATH}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{A PLAY TO THE DEATH}

\textit{\emph{Clear}} and sweet a trumpet spoke across The Fields
of Jetan. From The High Tower its cool voice floated across the city
of Manator and above the babel of human discords rising from the crowded
mass that filled the seats of the stadium below. It called the players
for the first game, and simultaneously there fluttered to the peaks
of a thousand staffs on tower and battlement and the great wall of
the stadium the rich, gay pennons of the fighting chiefs of Manator.
Thus was marked the opening of The Jeddak's Games, the most important
of the year and second only to the Grand Decennial Games.

Gahan of Gathol watched every play with eagle eye. The match was an
unimportant one, being but to settle some petty dispute between two
chiefs, and was played with professional jetan players for points
only. No one was killed and there was but little blood spilled. It
lasted about an hour and was terminated by the chief of the losing
side deliberately permitting himself to be out-pointed, that the game
might be called a draw.

Again the trumpet sounded, this time announcing the second and last
game of the afternoon. While this was not considered an important
match, those being reserved for the fourth and fifth days of the games,
it promised to afford sufficient excitement since it was a game to
the death. The vital difference between the game played with living
men and that in which inanimate pieces are used, lies in the fact
that while in the latter the mere placing of a piece upon a square
occupied by an opponent piece terminates the move, in the former the
two pieces thus brought together engage in a duel for possession of
the square. Therefore there enters into the former game not only the
strategy of jetan but the personal prowess and bravery of each individual
piece, so that a knowledge not only of one's own men but of each player
upon the opposing side is of vast value to a chief.

In this respect was Gahan handicapped, though the loyalty of his players
did much to offset his ignorance of them, since they aided him in
arranging the board to the best advantage and told him honestly the
faults and virtues of each. One fought best in a losing game; another
was too slow; another too impetuous; this one had fire and a heart
of steel, but lacked endurance. Of the opponents, though, they knew
little or nothing, and now as the two sides took their places upon
the black and orange squares of the great jetan board Gahan obtained,
for the first time, a close view of those who opposed him. The Orange
Chief had not yet entered the field, but his men were all in place.
Val Dor turned to Gahan. {}``They are all criminals from the pits
of Manator,'' he said. {}``There is no slave among them. We shall
not have to fight against a single fellow-countryman and every life
we take will be the life of an enemy.''

{}``It is well,'' replied Gahan; {}``but where is their Chief,
and where the two Princesses?''

{}``They are coming now, see?''\ and he pointed across the field
to where two women could be seen approaching under guard.

As they came nearer Gahan saw that one was indeed Tara of Helium,
but the other he did not recognize, and then they were brought to
the center of the field midway between the two sides and there waited
until the Orange Chief arrived.

Floran voiced an exclamation of surprise when he recognized him. {}``By
my first ancestor if it is not one of their great chiefs,'' he said,
{}``and we were told that slaves and criminals were to play for the
stake of this game.''

His words were interrupted by the keeper of The Towers whose duty
it was not only to announce the games and the stakes, but to act as
referee as well.

{}``Of this, the second game of the first day of the Jeddak's Games
in the four hundred and thirty-third year of O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator,
the Princesses of each side shall be the sole stakes and to the survivors
of the winning side shall belong both the Princesses, to do with as
they shall see fit. The Orange Princess is the slave woman Lan-O of
Gathol; the Black Princess is the slave woman Tara, a princess of
Helium. The Black Chief is U-Kal of Manataj, a volunteer player; the
Orange Chief is the dwar U-Dor of the 8th Utan of the jeddak of Manator,
also a volunteer player. The squares shall be contested to the death.
Just are the laws of Manator! I have spoken.''

The initial move was won by U-Dor, following which the two Chiefs
escorted their respective Princesses to the square each was to occupy.
It was the first time Gahan had been alone with Tara since she had
been brought upon the field. He saw her scrutinizing him closely as
he approached to lead her to her place and wondered if she recognized
him: but if she did she gave no sign of it. He could not but remember
her last words\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]{}``I hate you!''\ and her
desertion of him when he had been locked in the room beneath the palace
by I-Gos, the taxidermist, and so he did not seek to enlighten her
as to his identity. He meant to fight for her\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]to
die for her, if necessary\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and if he did not
die to go on fighting to the end for her love. Gahan of Gathol was
not easily to be discouraged, but he was compelled to admit that his
chances of winning the love of Tara of Helium were remote. Already
had she repulsed him twice. Once as jed of Gathol and again as Turan
the panthan. Before his love, however, came her safety and the former
must be relegated to the background until the latter had been achieved.

Passing among the players already at their stations the two took their
places upon their respective squares. At Tara's left was the Black
Chief, Gahan of Gathol; directly in front of her the Princess' Panthan,
Floran of Gathol; and at her right the Princess' Odwar, Val Dor of
Helium. And each of these knew the part that he was to play, win or
lose, as did each of the other Black players. As Tara took her place
Val Dor bowed low. {}``My sword is at your feet, Tara of Helium,''
he said.

She turned and looked at him, an expression of surprise and incredulity
upon her face. {}``Val Dor, the dwar!''\ she exclaimed. {}``Val
Dor of Helium\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]one of my father's trusted captains!
Can it be possible that my eyes speak the truth?''

{}``It is Val Dor, Princess,'' the warrior replied, {}``and here
to die for you if need be, as is every wearer of the Black upon this
field of jetan today. Know Princess,'' he whispered, {}``that upon
this side is no man of Manator, but each and every is an enemy of
Manator.''

She cast a quick, meaning glance toward Gahan. {}``But what of him?''\ 
she whispered, and then she caught her breath quickly in surprise.
{}``Shade of the first jeddak!''\ she exclaimed. {}``I did but
just recognize him through his disguise.''

{}``And you trust him?''\ asked Val Dor. {}``I know him not; but
he spoke fairly, as an honorable warrior, and we have taken him at
his word.''

{}``You have made no mistake,'' replied Tara of Helium. {}``I would
trust him with my life\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]with my soul; and you,
too, may trust him.''

Happy indeed would have been Gahan of Gathol could he have heard those
words; but Fate, who is usually unkind to the lover in such matters,
ordained it otherwise, and then the game was on.

U-Dor moved his Princess' Odwar three squares diagonally to the right,
which placed the piece upon the Black Chief's Odwar's seventh. The
move was indicative of the game that U-Dor intended playing\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
game of blood, rather than of science\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and
evidenced his contempt for his opponents.

Gahan followed with his Odwar's Panthan one square straight forward,
a more scientific move, which opened up an avenue for himself through
his line of Panthans, as well as announcing to the players and spectators
that he intended having a hand in the fighting himself even before
the exigencies of the game forced it upon him. The move elicited a
ripple of applause from those sections of seats reserved for the common
warriors and their women, showing perhaps that U-Dor was none too
popular with these, and, too, it had its effect upon the morale of
Gahan's pieces. A Chief may, and often does, play almost an entire
game without leaving his own square, where, mounted upon a thoat,
he may overlook the entire field and direct each move, nor may he
be reproached for lack of courage should he elect thus to play the
game since, by the rules, were he to be slain or so badly wounded
as to be compelled to withdraw, a game that might otherwise have been
won by the science of his play and the prowess of his men would be
drawn. To invite personal combat, therefore, denotes confidence in
his own swordsmanship, and great courage, two attributes that were
calculated to fill the Black players with hope and valor when evinced
by their Chief thus early in the game.

U-Dor's next move placed Lan-O's Odwar upon Tara's Odwar's fourth\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]within
striking distance of the Black Princess.

Another move and the game would be lost to Gahan unless the Orange
Odwar was overthrown, or Tara moved to a position of safety; but to
move his Princess now would be to admit his belief in the superiority
of the Orange. In the three squares allowed him he could not place
himself squarely upon the square occupied by the Odwar of U-Dor's
Princess. There was only one player upon the Black side that might
dispute the square with the enemy and that was the Chief's Odwar,
who stood upon Gahan's left. Gahan turned upon his thoat and looked
at the man. He was a splendid looking fellow, resplendent in the gorgeous
trappings of an Odwar, the five brilliant feathers which denoted his
position rising defiantly erect from his thick, black hair. In common
with every player upon the field and every spectator in the crowded
stands he knew what was passing in his Chief's mind. He dared not
speak, the ethics of the game forbade it, but what his lips might
not voice his eyes expressed in martial fire, and eloquently: {}``The
honor of the Black and the safety of our Princess are secure with
me!''

Gahan hesitated no longer. {}``Chief's Odwar to Princess' Odwar's
fourth!''\ he commanded. It was the courageous move of a leader
who had taken up the gauntlet thrown down by his opponent.

The warrior sprang forward and leaped into the square occupied by
U-Dor's piece. It was the first disputed square of the game. The eyes
of the players were fastened upon the contestants, the spectators
leaned forward in their seats after the first applause that had greeted
the move, and silence fell upon the vast assemblage. If the Black
went down to defeat, U-Dor could move his victorious piece on to the
square occupied by Tara of Helium and the game would be over\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]over
in four moves and lost to Gahan of Gathol. If the Orange lost U-Dor
would have sacrificed one of his most important pieces and more than
lost what advantage the first move might have given him.

Physically the two men appeared perfectly matched and each was fighting
for his life, but from the first it was apparent that the Black Odwar
was the better swordsman, and Gahan knew that he had another and perhaps
a greater advantage over his antagonist. The latter was fighting for
his life only, without the spur of chivalry or loyalty. The Black
Odwar had these to strengthen his arm, and besides these the knowledge
of the thing that Gahan had whispered into the ears of his players
before the game, and so he fought for what is more than life to the
man of honor.

It was a duel that held those who witnessed it in spellbound silence.
The weaving blades gleamed in the brilliant sunlight, ringing to the
parries of cut and thrust. The barbaric harness of the duelists lent
splendid color to the savage, martial scene. The Orange Odwar, forced
upon the defensive, was fighting madly for his life. The Black, with
cool and terrible efficiency, was forcing him steadily, step by step,
into a corner of the square\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a position from
which there could be no escape. To abandon the square was to lose
it to his opponent and win for himself ignoble and immediate death
before the jeering populace. Spurred on by the seeming hopelessness
of his plight, the Orange Odwar burst into a sudden fury of offense
that forced the Black back a half dozen steps, and then the sword
of U-Dor's piece leaped in and drew first blood, from the shoulder
of his merciless opponent. An ill-smothered cry of encouragement went
up from U-Dor's men; the Orange Odwar, encouraged by his single success,
sought to bear down the Black by the rapidity of his attack. There
was a moment in which the swords moved with a rapidity that no man's
eye might follow, and then the Black Odwar made a lightning parry
of a vicious thrust, leaned quickly forward into the opening he had
effected, and drove his sword through the heart of the Orange Odwar\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]to
the hilt he drove it through the body of the Orange Odwar.

A shout arose from the stands, for wherever may have been the favor
of the spectators, none there was who could say that it had not been
a pretty fight, or that the better man had not won. And from the Black
players came a sigh of relief as they relaxed from the tension of
the past moments.

I shall not weary you with the details of the game\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]only
the high features of it are necessary to your understanding of the
outcome. The fourth move after the victory of the Black Odwar found
Gahan upon U-Dor's fourth; an Orange Panthan was on the adjoining
square diagonally to his right and the only opposing piece that could
engage him other than U-Dor himself.

It had been apparent to both players and spectators for the past two
moves, that Gahan was moving straight across the field into the enemy's
country to seek personal combat with the Orange Chief\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]that
he was staking all upon his belief in the superiority of his own swordsmanship,
since if the two Chiefs engage, the outcome decides the game. U-Dor
could move out and engage Gahan, or he could move his Princess' Panthan
upon the square occupied by Gahan in he hope that the former would
defeat the Black Chief and thus draw the game, which is the outcome
if any other than a Chief slays the opposing Chief, or he could move
away and escape, temporarily, the necessity for personal combat, or
at least that is evidently what he had in mind as was obvious to all
who saw him scanning the board about him; and his disappointment was
apparent when he finally discovered that Gahan had so placed himself
that there was no square to which U-Dor could move that it was not
within Gahan's power to reach at his own next move.

U-Dor had placed his own Princess four squares east of Gahan when
her position had been threatened, and he had hoped to lure the Black
Chief after her and away from U-Dor; but in that he had failed. He
now discovered that he might play his own Odwar into personal combat
with Gahan; but he had already lost one Odwar and could ill spare
the other. His position was a delicate one, since he did not wish
to engage Gahan personally, while it appeared that there was little
likelihood of his being able to escape. There was just one hope and
that lay in his Princess' Panthan, so, without more deliberation he
ordered the piece onto the square occupied by the Black Chief.

The sympathies of the spectators were all with Gahan now. If he lost,
the game would be declared a draw, nor do they think better of drawn
games upon Barsoom than do Earth men. If he won, it would doubtless
mean a duel between the two Chiefs, a development for which they all
were hoping. The game already bade fair to be a short one and it would
be an angry crowd should it be decided a draw with only two men slain.
There were great, historic games on record where of the forty pieces
on the field when the game opened only three survived\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the
two Princesses and the victorious Chief.

They blamed U-Dor, though in fact he was well within his rights in
directing his play as he saw fit, nor was a refusal on his part to
engage the Black Chief necessarily an imputation of cowardice. He
was a great chief who had conceived a notion to possess the slave
Tara. There was no honor that could accrue to him from engaging in
combat with slaves and criminals, or an unknown warrior from Manataj,
nor was the stake of sufficient import to warrant the risk.

But now the duel between Gahan and the Orange Panthan was on and the
decision of the next move was no longer in other hands than theirs.
It was the first time that these Mana-Atorians had seen Gahan of Gathol
fight, but Tara of Helium knew that he was master of his sword. Could
he have seen the proud light in her eyes as he crossed blades with
the wearer of the Orange, he might easily have wondered if they were
the same eyes that had flashed fire and hatred at him that time he
had covered her lips with mad kisses, in the pits of the palace of
O-Tar. As she watched him she could not but compare his swordplay
with that of the greatest swordsman of two worlds\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]her
father, John Carter, of Virginia, a, Prince of Helium, Warlord of
Barsoom\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and she knew that the skill of the
Black Chief suffered little by the comparison.

Short and to the point was the duel that decided possession of the
Orange Chief's fourth. The spectators had settled themselves for an
interesting engagement of at least average duration when they were
brought almost standing by a brilliant flash of rapid swordplay that
was over ere one could catch his breath. They saw the Black Chief
step quickly back, his point upon the ground, while his opponent,
his sword slipping from his fingers, clutched his breast, sank to
his knees and then lunged forward upon his face.

And then Gahan of Gathol turned his eyes directly upon U-Dor of Manator,
three squares away. Three squares is a Chief's move\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]three
squares in any direction or combination of directions, only provided
that he does not cross the same square twice in a given move. The
people saw and guessed Gahan's intention. They rose and roared forth
their approval as he moved deliberately across the intervening squares
toward the Orange Chief.

O-Tar, in the royal enclosure, sat frowning upon the scene. O-Tar
was angry. He was angry with U-Dor for having entered this game for
possession of a slave, for whom it had been his wish only slaves and
criminals should strive. He was angry with the warrior from Manataj
for having so far out-generaled and out-fought the men from Manator.
He was angry with the populace because of their open hostility toward
one who had basked in the sunshine of his favor for long years. O-Tar
the jeddak had not enjoyed the afternoon. Those who surrounded him
were equally glum\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]they, too, scowled upon
the field, the players, and the people. Among them was a bent and
wrinkled old man who gazed through weak and watery eyes upon the field
and the players.

As Gahan entered his square, U-Dor leaped toward him with drawn sword
with such fury as might have overborne a less skilled and powerful
swordsman. For a minute the fighting was fast and furious and by comparison
reducing to insignificance all that had gone before. Here indeed were
two magnificent swordsmen, and here was to be a battle that bade fair
to make up for whatever the people felt they had been defrauded of
by the shortness of the game. Nor had it continued long before many
there were who would have prophesied that they were witnessing a duel
that was to become historic in the annals of jetan at Manator. Every
trick, every subterfuge, known to the art of fence these men employed.
Time and again each scored a point and brought blood to his opponent's
copper hide until both were red with gore; but neither seemed able
to administer the \emph{coup de grace}.

From her position upon the opposite side of the field Tara of Helium
watched the long-drawn battle. Always it seemed to her that the Black
Chief fought upon the defensive, or when he assumed to push his opponent,
he neglected a thousand openings that her practiced eye beheld. Never
did he seem in real danger, nor never did he appear to exert himself
to quite the pitch needful for victory. The duel already had been
long contested and the day was drawing to a close. Presently the sudden
transition from daylight to darkness which, owing to the tenuity of
the air upon Barsoom, occurs almost without the warning twilight of
Earth, would occur. Would the fight never end? Would the game be called
a draw after all? What ailed the Black Chief?

Tara wished that she might answer at least the last of these questions
for she was sure that Turan the panthan, as she knew him, while fighting
brilliantly, was not giving of himself all that he might. She could
not believe that fear was restraining his hand, but that there was
something beside inability to push U-Dor more fiercely she was confident.
What it was, however, she could not guess.

Once she saw Gahan glance quickly up toward the sinking sun. In thirty
minutes it would be dark. And then she saw and all those others saw
a strange transition steal over the swordplay of the Black Chief.
It was as though he had been playing with the great dwar, U-Dor, all
these hours, and now he still played with him but there was a difference.
He played with him terribly as a carnivore plays with its victim in
the instant before the kill. The Orange Chief was helpless now in
the hands of a swordsman so superior that there could be no comparison,
and the people sat in open-mouthed wonder and awe as Gahan of Gathol
cut his foe to ribbons and then struck him down with a blow that cleft
him to the chin.

In twenty minutes the sun would set. But what of that?


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER XVIII. A TASK FOR LOYALTY}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER XVIII.\\
A TASK FOR LOYALTY}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{A TASK FOR LOYALTY}

\textit{\emph{Long}} and loud was the applause that rose above the
Field of Jetan at Manator, as The Keeper of the Towers summoned the
two Princesses and the victorious Chief to the center of the field
and presented to the latter the fruits of his prowess, and then, as
custom demanded, the victorious players, headed by Gahan and the two
Princesses, formed in procession behind The Keeper of the Towers and
were conducted to the place of victory before the royal enclosure
that they might receive the commendation of the jeddak. Those who
were mounted gave up their thoats to slaves as all must be on foot
for this ceremony. Directly beneath the royal enclosure are the gates
to one of the tunnels that, passing beneath the seats, give ingress
or egress to or from the Field. Before this gate the party halted
while O-Tar looked down upon them from above. Val Dor and Floran,
passing quietly ahead of the others, went directly to the gates, where
they were hidden from those who occupied the enclosure with O-Tar.
The Keeper of the Towers may have noticed them, but so occupied was
he with the formality of presenting the victorious Chief to the jeddak
that he paid no attention to them.

{}``I bring you, O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator, U-Kal of Manataj,'' he
cried in a loud voice that might be heard by as many as possible,
{}``victor over the Orange in the second of the Jeddak's Games of
the four hundred and thirty-third year of O-Tar, and the slave woman
Tara and the slave woman Lan-O that you may bestow these, the stakes,
upon U-Kal.''

As he spoke, a little, wrinkled, old man peered over the rail of the
enclosure down upon the three who stood directly behind The Keeper,
and strained his weak and watery eyes in an effort to satisfy the
curiosity of old age in a matter of no particular import, for what
were two slaves and a common warrior from Manataj to any who sat with
O-Tar the jeddak?

{}``U-Kal of Manataj,'' said O-Tar, {}``you have deserved the stakes.
Seldom have we looked upon more noble swordplay. An you tire of Manataj
there be always here in the city of Manator a place for you in The
Jeddak's Guard.''

While the jeddak was speaking the little, old man, failing clearly
to discern the features of the Black Chief, reached into his pocket-pouch
and drew forth a pair of thick-lensed spectacles, which he placed
upon his nose. For a moment he scrutinized Gahan closely, then he
leaped to his feet and addressing O-Tar pointed a shaking finger it
Gahan. As he rose Tara of Helium clutched the Black Chief's arm.

{}``Turan!''\ she whispered. {}``It is I-Gos, whom I thought to
have slain in the pits of O-Tar. It is I-Gos and he recognizes you
and will\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]''

But what I-Gos would do was already transpiring. In his falsetto voice
he fairly screamed: {}``It is the slave Turan who stole the woman
Tara from your throne room, O-Tar. He desecrated the dead chief I-Mal
and wears his harness now!''

Instantly all was pandemonium. Warriors drew their swords and leaped
to their feet. Gahan's victorious players rushed forward in a body,
sweeping The Keeper of the Towers from his feet. Val Dor and Floran
threw open the gates beneath the royal enclosure, opening the tunnel
that led to the avenue in the city beyond the Towers. Gahan, surrounded
by his men, drew Tara and Lan-O into the passageway, and at a rapid
pace the party sought to reach the opposite end of the tunnel before
their escape could be cut off. They were successful and when they
emerged into the city the sun had set and darkness had come, relieved
only by an antiquated and ineffective lighting system, which cast
but a pale glow over the shadowy streets.

Now it was that Tara of Helium guessed why the Black Chief had drawn
out his duel with U-Dor and realized that he might have slain his
man at almost any moment he had elected. The whole plan that Gahan
had whispered to his players before the game was thoroughly understood.
They were to make their way to The Gate of Enemies and there offer
their services to U-Thor, the great Jed of Manatos. The fact that
most of them were Gatholians and that Gahan could lead rescuers to
the pit where A-Kor, the son of U-Thor's wife, was confined, convinced
the Jed of Gathol that they would meet with no rebuff at the hands
of U-Thor. But even should he refuse them, still were they bound together
to go on toward freedom, if necessary cutting their way through the
forces of U-Thor at The Gate of Enemies\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]twenty
men against a small army; but of such stuff are the warriors of Barsoom.

They had covered a considerable distance along the almost deserted
avenue before signs of pursuit developed and then there came upon
them suddenly from behind a dozen warriors mounted on thoats\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
detachment, evidently, from The Jeddak's Guard. Instantly the avenue
was a pandemonium of clashing blades, cursing warriors, and squealing
thoats. In the first onslaught life blood was spilled upon both sides.
Two of Gahan's men went down, and upon the enemies' side three riderless
thoats attested at least a portion of their casualties.

Gahan was engaged with a fellow who appeared to have been selected
to account for him only, since he rode straight for him and sought
to cut him down without giving the slightest heed to several who slashed
at him as he passed them. The Gatholian, practiced in the art of combating
a mounted warrior from the ground, sought to reach the left side of
the fellow's thoat a little to the rider's rear, the only position
in which he would have any advantage over his antagonist, or rather
the position that would most greatly reduce the advantage of the mounted
man, and, similarly, the Manatorian strove to thwart his design. And
so the guardsman wheeled and turned his vicious, angry mount while
Gahan leaped in and out in an effort to reach the coveted vantage
point, but always seeking some other opening in his foe's defense.

And while they jockeyed for position a rider swept swiftly past them.
As he passed behind Gahan the latter heard a cry of alarm.

{}``Turan, they have me!''\ came to his ears in the voice of Tara
of Helium.

A quick glance across his shoulder showed him the galloping thoatman
in the act of dragging Tara to the withers of the beast, and then,
with the fury of a demon, Gahan of Gathol leaped for his own man,
dragged him from his mount and as he fell smote his head from his
shoulders with a single cut of his keen sword. Scarce had the body
touched the pavement when the Gatholian was upon the back of the dead
warrior's mount, and galloping swiftly down the avenue after the diminishing
figures of Tara and her abductor, the sounds of the fight waning in
the distance as he pursued his quarry along the avenue that passes
the palace of O-Tar and leads to The Gate of Enemies.

Gahan's mount, carrying but a single rider, gained upon that of the
Manatorian, so that as they neared the palace Gahan was scarce a hundred
yards behind, and now, to his consternation, he saw the fellow turn
into the great entrance-way. For a moment only was he halted by the
guards and then he disappeared within. Gahan was almost upon him then,
but evidently he had warned the guards, for they leaped out to intercept
the Gatholian. But no!\ the fellow could not have known that he was
pursued, since he had not seen Gahan seize a mount, nor would he have
thought that pursuit would come so soon. If he had passed then, so
could Gahan pass, for did he not wear the trappings of a Manatorian?
The Gatholian thought quickly, and stopping his thoat called to the
guardsmen to let him pass, {}``In the name of O-Tar!''\ They hesitated
a moment.

{}``Aside!''\ cried Gahan. {}``Must the jeddak's messenger parley
for the right to deliver his message?''

{}``To whom would you deliver it?''\ asked the padwar of the guard.

{}``Saw you not him who just entered?''\ cried Gahan, and without
waiting for a reply urged his thoat straight past them into the palace,
and while they were deliberating what was best to be done, it was
too late to do anything\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]which is not unusual.

Along the marble corridors Gahan guided his thoat, and because he
had gone that way before, rather than because he knew which way Tara
had been taken, he followed the runways and passed through the chambers
that led to the throne room of O-Tar. On the second level he met a
slave.

{}``Which way went he who carried the woman before him?''\ he asked.

The slave pointed toward a nearby runway that led to the third level
and Gahan dashed rapidly on in pursuit. At the same moment a thoatman,
riding at a furious pace, approached the palace and halted his mount
at the gate.

{}``Saw you aught of a warrior pursuing one who carried a woman before
him on his thoat?''\ he shouted to the guard.

{}``He but just passed in,'' replied the padwar, {}``saying that
he was O-Tar's messenger.''

{}``He lied,'' cried the newcomer. {}``He was Turan, the slave,
who stole the woman from the throne room two days since. Arouse the
palace! He must be seized, and alive if possible. It is O-Tar's command.''

Instantly warriors were dispatched to search for the Gatholian and
warn the inmates of the palace to do likewise. Owing to the games
there were comparatively few retainers in the great building, but
those whom they found were immediately enlisted in the search, so
that presently at least fifty warriors were seeking through the countless
chambers and corridors of the palace of O-Tar.

As Gahan's thoat bore him to the third Level the man glimpsed the
hind quarters of another thoat disappearing at the turn of a corridor
far ahead. Urging his own animal forward he raced swiftly in pursuit
and making the turn discovered only an empty corridor ahead. Along
this he hurried to discover near its farther end a runway to the fourth
level, which he followed upward. Here he saw that he had gained upon
his quarry who was just turning through a doorway fifty yards ahead.
As Gahan reached the opening he saw that the warrior had dismounted
and was dragging Tara toward a small door on the opposite side of
the chamber. At the same instant the clank of harness to his rear
caused him to cast a glance behind where, along the corridor he had
just traversed, he saw three warriors approaching on foot at a run.
Leaping from his thoat Gahan sprang into the chamber where Tara was
struggling to free herself from the grasp of her captor, slammed the
door behind him, shot the great bolt into its seat, and drawing his
sword crossed the room at a run to engage the Manatorian. The fellow,
thus menaced, called aloud to Gahan to halt, at the same time thrusting
Tara at arm's length and threatening her heart with the point of his
short-sword.

{}``Stay!''\ he cried, {}``or the woman dies, for such is the
command of O-Tar, rather than that she again fall into your hands.''

Gahan stopped. But a few feet separated him from Tara and her captor,
yet he was helpless to aid her. Slowly the warrior backed toward the
open doorway behind him, dragging Tara with him. The girl struggled
and fought, but the warrior was a powerful man and having seized her
by the harness from behind was able to hold her in a position of helplessness.

{}``Save me, Turan!''\ she cried. {}``Let them not drag me to
a fate worse than death. Better that I die now while my eyes behold
a brave friend than later, fighting alone among enemies in defense
of my honor.''

He took a step nearer. The warrior made a threatening gesture with
his sword close to the soft, smooth skin of the princess, and Gahan
halted.

{}``I cannot, Tara of Helium,'' he cried. {}``Think not ill of
me that I am weak\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]that I cannot see you die.
Too great is my love for you, daughter of Helium.''

The Manatorian warrior, a derisive grin upon his lips, backed steadily
away. He had almost reached the doorway when Gahan saw another warrior
in the chamber toward which Tara was being borne\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
fellow who moved silently, almost stealthily, across the marble floor
as he approached Tara's captor from behind. In his right hand he grasped
a long-sword.

{}``Two to one,'' thought Gahan, and a grim smile touched his lips,
for he had no doubt that once they had Tara safely in the adjoining
chamber the two would set upon him. If he could not save her, he could
at least die for her.

And then, suddenly, Gahan's eyes fastened with amazement upon the
figure of the warrior behind the grinning fellow who held Tara and
was forcing her to the doorway. He saw the newcomer step almost within
arm's reach of the other. He saw him stop, an expression of malevolent
hatred upon his features. He saw the great sword swing through the
arc of a great circle, gathering swift and terrific momentum from
its own weight backed by the brawn of the steel thews that guided
it; he saw it pass through the feathered skull of the Manatorian,
splitting his sardonic grin in twain, and open him to the middle of
his breast bone.

As the dead hand relaxed its grasp upon Tara's wrist the girl leaped
forward, without a backward glance, to Gahan's side. His left arm
encircled her, nor did she draw away, as with ready sword the Gatholian
awaited Fate's next decree. Before them Tara's deliverer was wiping
the blood from his sword upon the hair of his victim. He was evidently
a Manatorian, his trappings those of the Jeddak's Guard, and so his
act was inexplicable to Gahan and to Tara. Presently he sheathed his
sword and approached them.

{}``When a man chooses to hide his identity behind an assumed name,''
he said, looking straight into Gahan's eyes, {}``whatever friend
pierces the deception were no friend if he divulged the other's secret.''

He paused as though awaiting a reply.

{}``Your integrity has perceived and your lips voiced an unalterable
truth,'' replied Gahan, whose mind was filled with wonder if the
implication could by any possibility be true\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]that
this Manatorian had guessed his identity.

{}``We are thus agreed,'' continued the other, {}``and I may tell
you that though I am here known as A-Sor, my real name is Tasor.''
He paused and watched Gahan's face intently for any sign of the effect
of this knowledge and was rewarded with a quick, though guarded expression
of recognition.

Tasor! Friend of his youth. The son of that great Gatholian noble
who had given his life so gloriously, however futilely, in an attempt
to defend Gahan's sire from the daggers of the assassins. Tasor an
under-padwar in the guard of O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator! It was inconceivable\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and
yet it was he; there could be no doubt of it. {}``Tasor,'' Gahan
repeated aloud. {}``But it is no Manatorian name.'' The statement
was half interrogatory, for Gahan's curiosity was aroused. He would
know how his friend and loyal subject had become a Manatorian. Long
years had passed since Tasor had disappeared as mysteriously as the
Princess Haja and many other of Gahan's subjects. The Jed of Gathol
had long supposed him dead.

{}``No,'' replied Tasor, {}``nor is it a Manatorian name. Come,
while I search for a hiding place for you in some forgotten chamber
in one of the untenanted portions of the palace, and as we go I will
tell you briefly how Tasor the Gatholian became A-Sor the Manatorian.

{}``It befell that as I rode with a dozen of my warriors along the
western border of Gathol searching for zitidars that had strayed from
my herds, we were set upon and surrounded by a great company of Manatorians.
They overpowered us, though not before half our number was slain and
the balance helpless from wounds. And so I was brought a prisoner
to Manataj, a distant city of Manator, and there sold into slavery.
A woman bought me\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a princess of Manataj whose
wealth and position were unequaled in the city of her birth. She loved
me and when her husband discovered her infatuation she beseeched me
to slay him, and when I refused she hired another to do it. Then she
married me; but none would have aught to do with her in Manataj, for
they suspected her guilty knowledge of her husband's murder. And so
we set out from Manataj for Manatos accompanied by a great caravan
bearing all her worldly goods and jewels and precious metals, and
on the way she caused the rumor to be spread that she and I had died.
Then we came to Manator instead, she taking a new name and I the name
A-Sor, that we might not be traced through our names. With her great
wealth she bought me a post in The Jeddak's Guard and none knows that
I am not a Manatorian, for she is dead. She was beautiful, but she
was a devil.''

{}``And you never sought to return to your native city?''\ asked
Gahan.

{}``Never has the hope been absent from my heart, or my mind empty
of a plan,'' replied Tasor. {}``I dream of it by day and by night,
but always must I return to the same conclusion\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]that
there can be but a single means for escape. I must wait until Fortune
favors me with a place in a raiding party to Gathol. Then, once within
the boundaries of my own country, they shall see me no more.''

{}``Perhaps your opportunity lies already within your grasp,'' said
Gahan, {}``has not your fealty to your own Jed been undermined by
years of association with the men of Manator.'' The statement was
half challenge.

{}``An my Jed stood before me now,'' cried Tasor, {}``and my avowal
could be made without violating his confidence, I should cast my sword
at his feet and beg the high privilege of dying for him as my sire
died for his sire.''

There could be no doubt of his sincerity nor any that he was cognizant
of Gahan's identity. The Jed of Gathol smiled. {}``And if your Jed
were here there is little doubt but that he would command you to devote
your talents and your prowess to the rescue of the Princess Tara of
Helium,'' he said, meaningly. {}``An he possessed the knowledge
I have gained during my captivity he would say to you, `Go, Tasor,
to the pit where A-kor, son of Haja of Gathol, is confined and set
him free and with him arouse the slaves from Gathol and march to The
Gate of Enemies and offer your services to U-Thor of Manataj, who
is wed to Haja of Gathol, and ask of him in return that he attack
the palace of O-Tar and rescue Tara of Helium and when that thing
is accomplished that he free the slaves of Gathol and furnish them
with the arms and the means to return to their own country.' That,
Tasor of Gathol, is what Gahan your Jed would demand of you.''

{}``And that, Turan the slave, is what I shall bend my every effort
to accomplish after I have found a safe refuge for Tara of Helium
and her panthan,'' replied Tasor.

Gahan's glance carried to Tasor an intimation of his Jed's gratification
and filled him with a chivalrous determination to do the thing required
of him, or die, for he considered that he had received from the lips
of his beloved ruler a commission that placed upon his shoulders a
responsibility that encompassed not alone the life of Gahan and Tara
but the welfare, perhaps the whole future, of Gathol. And so he hastened
them onward through the musty corridors of the old palace where the
dust of ages lay undisturbed upon the marble tiles. Now and again
he tried a door until he found one that was unlocked. Opening it he
ushered them into a chamber, heavy with dust. Crumbling silks and
furs adorned the walls, with ancient weapons, and great paintings
whose colors were toned by age to wondrous softness.

{}``This be as good as any place,'' he said. {}``No one comes here.
Never have I been here before, so I know no more of the other chambers
than you; but this one, at least, I can find again when I bring you
food and drink. O-Mai the Cruel occupied this portion of the palace
during his reign, five thousand years before O-Tar. In one of these
apartments he was found dead, his face contorted in an expression
of fear so horrible that it drove to madness those who looked upon
it; yet there was no mark of violence upon him. Since then the quarters
of O-Mai have been shunned for the legends have it that the ghosts
of Corphals pursue the spirit of the wicked Jeddak nightly through
these chambers, shrieking and moaning as they go. But,'' he added,
as though to reassure himself as well as his companions, {}``such
things may not be countenanced by the culture of Gathol or Helium.''

Gahan laughed. {}``And if all who looked upon him were driven mad,
who then was there to perform the last rites or prepare the body of
the Jeddak for them?''

{}``There was none,'' replied Tasor. {}``Where they found him they
left him and there to this very day his mouldering bones lie hid in
some forgotten chamber of this forbidden suite.''

Tasor left them then assuring them that he would seek the first opportunity
to speak with A-Kor, and upon the following day he would bring them
food and drink.%
\footnote{Those who have read John Carter's description of the Green Martians
in \emph{A Princess of Mars} will recall that these strange people
could exist for considerable periods of time without food or water,
and to a lesser degree is the same true of all Martians.%
}

After Tasor had gone Tara turned to Gahan and approaching laid a hand
upon his arm. {}``So swiftly have events transpired since I recognized
you beneath your disguise,'' she said, {}``that I have had no opportunity
to assure you of my gratitude and the high esteem that your valor
has won for you in my consideration. Let me now acknowledge my indebtedness;
and if promises be not vain from one whose life and liberty are in
grave jeopardy, accept my assurance of the great reward that awaits
you at the hand of my father in Helium.''

{}``I desire no reward,'' he replied, {}``other than the happiness
of knowing that the woman I love is happy.''

For an instant the eyes of Tara of Helium blazed as she drew herself
haughtily to her full height, and then they softened and her attitude
relaxed as she shook her head sadly.

{}``I have it not in my heart to reprimand you, Turan,'' she said,
{}``however great your fault, for you have been an honorable and
a loyal friend to Tara of Helium; but you must not say what my ears
must not hear.''

{}``You mean,'' he asked, {}``that the ears of a Princess must
not listen to words of love from a panthan?''

{}``It is not that, Turan,'' she replied; {}``but rather that I
may not in honor listen to words of love from another than him to
whom I am betrothed\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a fellow countryman, Djor
Kantos.''

{}``You mean, Tara of Helium,'' he cried, {}``that were it not
for that you would\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]''

{}``Stop!''\ she commanded. {}``You have no right to assume aught
else than my lips testify.''

{}``The eyes are ofttimes more eloquent than the lips, Tara,'' he
replied; {}``and in yours I have read that which is neither hatred
nor contempt for Turan the panthan, and my heart tells me that your
lips bore false witness when they cried in anger: `I hate you!'''

{}``I do not hate you, Turan, nor yet may I love you,'' said the
girl, simply.

{}``When I broke my way out from the chamber of I-Gos I was indeed
upon the verge of believing that you did hate me,'' he said, {}``for
only hatred, it seemed to me, could account for the fact that you
had gone without making an effort to liberate me; but presently both
my heart and my judgment told me that Tara of Helium could not have
deserted a companion in distress, and though I still am in ignorance
of the facts I know that it was beyond your power to aid me.''

{}``It was indeed,'' said the girl. {}``Scarce had I-Gos fallen
at the bite of my dagger than I heard the approach of warriors. I
ran then to hide until they had passed, thinking to return and liberate
you; but in seeking to elude the party I had heard I ran full into
the arms of another. They questioned me as to your whereabouts, and
I told them that you had gone ahead and that I was following you and
thus I led them from you.''

{}``I knew,'' was Gahan's only comment, but his heart was glad with
elation, as a lover's must be who has heard from the lips of his divinity
an avowal of interest and loyalty, however little tinged by a suggestion
of warmer regard it may be. To be abused, even, by the mistress of
one's heart is better than to be ignored.

As the two conversed in the ill-lit chamber, the dim bulbs of which
were encrusted with the accumulated dust of centuries, a bent and
withered figure traversed slowly the gloomy corridors without, his
weak and watery eyes peering through thick lenses at the signs of
passage written upon the dusty floor.


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER XIX. THE MENACE OF THE DEAD}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER XIX.\\
THE MENACE OF THE DEAD}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{THE MENACE OF THE DEAD}

\textit{\emph{The}} night was still young when there came one to the
entrance of the banquet hall where O-Tar of Manator dined with his
chiefs, and brushing past the guards entered the great room with the
insolence of a privileged character, as in truth he was. As he approached
the head of the long board O-Tar took notice of him.

{}``Well, hoary one!''\ he cried. {}``What brings you out of your
beloved and stinking burrow again this day. We thought that the sight
of the multitude of living men at the games would drive you back to
your corpses as quickly as you could go.''

The cackling laugh of I-Gos acknowledged the royal sally. {}``Ey,
ey, O-Tar,'' squeaked the ancient one, {}``I-Gos goes out not upon
pleasure bound; but when one does ruthlessly desecrate the dead of
I-Gos, vengeance must be had!''

{}``You refer to the act of the slave Turan?''\ demanded O-Tar.

{}``Turan, yes, and the slave Tara, who slipped beneath my hide a
murderous blade. Another fraction of an inch, O-Tar, and I-Gos' ancient
and wrinkled covering were even now in some apprentice tanner's hands,
ey, ey!''

{}``But they have again eluded us,'' cried O-Tar. {}``Even in the
palace of the great jeddak twice have they escaped the stupid knaves
I call The Jeddak's Guard.'' O-Tar had risen and was angrily emphasizing
his words with heavy blows upon the table, dealt with a golden goblet.

{}``Ey, O-Tar, they elude thy guard but not the wise old calot, I-Gos.''

{}``What mean you? Speak!''\ commanded O-Tar.

{}``I know where they are hid,'' said the ancient taxidermist. {}``In
the dust of unused corridors their feet have betrayed them.''

{}``You followed them? You have seen them?''\ demanded the jeddak.

{}``I followed them and I heard them speaking beyond a closed door,''
replied I-Gos; {}``but I did not see them.''

{}``Where is that door?''\ cried O-Tar. {}``We will send at once
and fetch them,'' he looked about the table as though to decide to
whom he would entrust this duty. A dozen warrior chiefs arose and
laid their hands upon their swords.

{}``To the chambers of O-Mai the Cruel I traced them,'' squeaked
I-Gos. {}``There you will find them where the moaning Corphals pursue
the shrieking ghost of O-Mai; ey!''\ and he turned his eyes from
O-Tar toward the warriors who had arisen, only to discover that, to
a man, they were hurriedly resuming their seats.

The cackling laughter of I-Gos broke derisively the hush that had
fallen on the room. The warriors looked sheepishly at the food upon
their plates of gold. O-Tar snapped his fingers impatiently.

{}``Be there only cravens among the chiefs of Manator?''\ he cried.
{}``Repeatedly have these presumptuous slaves flouted the majesty
of your jeddak. Must I command one to go and fetch them?''

Slowly a chief arose and two others followed his example, though with
ill-concealed reluctance. {}``All, then, are not cowards,'' commented
O-Tar. {}``The duty is distasteful. Therefore all three of you shall
go, taking as many warriors as you wish.''

{}``But do not ask for volunteers,'' interrupted I-Gos, {}``or
you will go alone.''

The three chiefs turned and left the banquet hall, walking slowly
like doomed men to their fate.

Gahan and Tara remained in the chamber to which Tasor had led them,
the man brushing away the dust from a deep and comfortable bench where
they might rest in comparative comfort. He had found the ancient sleeping
silks and furs too far gone to be of any service, crumbling to powder
at a touch, thus removing any chance of making a comfortable bed for
the girl, and so the two sat together, talking in low tones, of the
adventures through which they already had passed and speculating upon
the future; planning means of escape and hoping Tasor would not be
long gone. They spoke of many things\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]of Hastor,
and Helium, and Ptarth, and finally the conversation reminded Tara
of Gathol.

{}``You have served there?''\ she asked.

{}``Yes,'' replied Turan.

{}``I met Gahan the Jed of Gathol at my father's palace,'' she said,
{}``the very day before the storm snatched me from Helium\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]he
was a presumptuous fellow, magnificently trapped in platinum and diamonds.
Never in my life saw I so gorgeous a harness as his, and you must
well know, Turan, that the splendor of all Barsoom passes through
the court at Helium; but in my mind I could not see so resplendent
a creature drawing that jeweled sword in mortal combat. I fear me
that the Jed of Gathol, though a pretty picture of a man, is little
else.''

In the dim light Tara did not perceive the wry expression upon the
half-averted face of her companion.

{}``You thought little then of the Jed of Gathol?''\ he asked.

{}``Then or now,'' she replied, and with a little laugh; {}``how
it would pique his vanity to know, if he might, that a poor panthan
had won a higher place in the regard of Tara of Helium,'' and she
laid her fingers gently upon his knee.

He seized the fingers in his and carried them to his lips. {}``O,
Tara of Helium,'' he cried. {}``Think you that I am a man of stone?''
One arm slipped about her shoulders and drew the yielding body toward
him.

{}``May my first ancestor forgive me my weakness,'' she cried, as
her arms stole about his neck and she raised her panting lips to his.
For long they clung there in love's first kiss and then she pushed
him away, gently. {}``I love you, Turan,'' she half sobbed; {}``I
love you so! It is my only poor excuse for having done this wrong
to Djor Kantos, whom now I know I never loved, who knew not the meaning
of love. And if you love me as you say, Turan, your love must protect
me from greater dishonor, for I am but as clay in your hands.''

Again he crushed her to him and then as suddenly released her, and
rising, strode rapidly to and fro across the chamber as though he
endeavored by violent exercise to master and subdue some evil spirit
that had laid hold upon him. Ringing through his brain and heart and
soul like some joyous p\ae{}an were those words that had so altered
the world for Gahan of Gathol: {}``I love you, Turan; I love you
so!'' And it had come so suddenly. He had thought that she felt for
him only gratitude for his loyalty and then, in an instant, her barriers
were all down, she was no longer a princess; but instead a\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]his
reflections were interrupted by a sound from beyond the closed door.
His sandals of zitidar hide had given forth no sound upon the marble
floor he strode, and as his rapid pacing carried him past the entrance
to the chamber there came faintly from the distance of the long corridor
the sound of metal on metal\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the unmistakable
herald of the approach of armed men.

For a moment Gahan listened intently, close to the door, until there
could be no doubt but that a party of warriors was approaching. From
what Tasor had told him he guessed correctly that they would be coming
to this portion of the palace but for a single purpose\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]to
search for Tara and himself\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and it behooved
him therefore to seek immediate means for eluding them. The chamber
in which they were had other doorways beside that at which they had
entered, and to one of these he must look for some safer hiding place.
Crossing to Tara he acquainted her with his suspicion, leading her
to one of the doors which they found unsecured. Beyond it lay a dimly-lighted
chamber at the threshold of which they halted in consternation, drawing
back quickly into the chamber they had just quitted, for their first
glance revealed four warriors seated around a jetan board.

That their entrance had not been noted was attributed by Gahan to
the absorption of the two players and their friends in the game. Quietly
closing the door the fugitives moved silently to the next, which they
found locked. There was now but another door which they had not tried,
and this they approached quickly as they knew that the searching party
must be close to the chamber. To their chagrin they found this avenue
of escape barred.

Now indeed were they in a sorry plight, for should the searchers have
information leading them to this room they were lost. Again leading
Tara to the door behind which were the jetan players Gahan drew his
sword and waited, listening. The sound of the party in the corridor
came distinctly to their ears\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]they must be
quite close, and doubtless they were coming in force. Beyond the door
were but four warriors who might be readily surprised. There could,
then, be but one choice and acting upon it Gahan quietly opened the
door again, stepped through into the adjoining chamber, Tara's hand
in his, and closed the door behind them. The four at the jetan board
evidently failed to hear them. One player had either just made or
was contemplating a move, for his fingers grasped a piece that still
rested upon the board. The other three were watching his move. For
an instant Gahan looked at them, playing jetan there in the dim light
of this forgotten and forbidden chamber, and then a slow smile of
understanding lighted his face.

{}``Come!''\ he said to Tara. {}``We have nothing to fear from
these. For more than five thousand years they have sat thus, a monument
to the handiwork of some ancient taxidermist.''

As they approached more closely they saw that the lifelike figures
were coated with dust, but that otherwise the skin was in as fine
a state of preservation as the most recent of I-Gos' groups, and then
they heard the door of the chamber they had quitted open and knew
that the searchers were close upon them. Across the room they saw
the opening of what appeared to be a corridor and which investigation
proved to be a short passageway, terminating in a chamber in the center
of which was an ornate sleeping dais. This room, like the others,
was but poorly lighted, time having dimmed the radiance of its bulbs
and coated them with dust. A glance showed that it was hung with heavy
goods and contained considerable massive furniture in addition to
the sleeping platform, a second glance at which revealed what appeared
to be the form of a man lying partially on the floor and partially
on the dais. No doorways were visible other than that at which they
had entered, though both knew that others might be concealed by the
hangings.

Gahan, his curiosity aroused by the legends surrounding this portion
of the palace, crossed to the dais to examine the figure that apparently
had fallen from it, to find the dried and shrivelled corpse of a man
lying upon his back on the floor with arms outstretched and fingers
stiffly outspread. One of his feet was doubled partially beneath him,
while the other was still entangled in the sleeping silks and furs
upon the dais. After five thousand years the expression of the withered
face and the eyeless sockets retained the aspect of horrid fear to
such an extent, that Gahan knew that he was looking upon the body
of O-Mai the Cruel.

Suddenly Tara, who stood close beside him, clutched his arm and pointed
toward a far corner of the room. Gahan looked and looking felt the
hairs upon his neck rising. He threw his left arm about the girl and
with bared sword stood between her and the hangings that they watched,
and then slowly Gahan of Gathol backed away, for in this grim and
somber chamber, which no human foot had trod for five thousand years
and to which no breath of wind might enter, the heavy hangings in
the far corner had moved. Not gently had they moved as a draught might
have moved them had there been a draught, but suddenly they had bulged
out as though pushed against from behind. To the opposite corner backed
Gahan until they stood with their backs against the hangings there,
and then hearing the approach of their pursuers across the chamber
beyond Gahan pushed Tara through the hangings and, following her,
kept open with his left hand, which he had disengaged from the girl's
grasp, a tiny opening through which he could view the apartment and
the doorway upon the opposite side through which the pursuers would
enter, if they came this far.

Behind the hangings there was a space of about three feet in width
between them and the wall, making a passageway entirely around the
room, broken only by the single entrance opposite them; this being
a common arrangement especially in the sleeping apartments of the
rich and powerful upon Barsoom. The purposes of this arrangement were
several. The passageway afforded a station for guards in the same
room with their master without intruding entirely upon his privacy;
it concealed secret exits from the chamber; it permitted the occupant
of the room to hide eavesdroppers and assassins for use against enemies
that he might lure to his chamber.

The three chiefs with a dozen warriors had had no difficulty in following
the tracks of the fugitives through the dust of the corridors and
chambers they had traversed. To enter this portion of the palace at
all had required all the courage they possessed, and now that they
were within the very chambers of O-Mai their nerves were pitched to
the highest key\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]another turn and they would
snap; for the people of Manator are filled with weird superstitions.
As they entered the outer chamber they moved slowly, with drawn swords,
no one seeming anxious to take the lead, and the twelve warriors hanging
back in unconcealed and shameless terror, while the three chiefs,
spurred on by fear of O-Tar and by pride, pressed together for mutual
encouragement as they slowly crossed the dimly-lighted room.

Following the tracks of Gahan and Tara they found that though each
doorway had been approached only one threshold had been crossed and
this door they gingerly opened, revealing to their astonished gaze
the four warriors at the jetan table. For a moment they were on the
verge of flight, for though they knew what they were, coming as they
did upon them in this mysterious and haunted suite, they were as startled
as though they had beheld the very ghosts of the departed. But they
presently regained their courage sufficiently to cross this chamber
too and enter the short passageway that led to the ancient sleeping
apartment of O-Mai the Cruel. They did not know that this awful chamber
lay just before them, or it were doubtful that they would have proceeded
farther; but they saw that those they sought had come this way and
so they followed, but within the gloomy interior of the chamber they
halted, the three chiefs urging their followers, in low whispers,
to close in behind them, and there just within the entrance they stood
until, their eyes becoming accustomed to the dim light, one of them
pointed suddenly to the thing lying upon the floor with one foot tangled
in the coverings of the dais.

{}``Look!''\ he gasped. {}``It is the corpse of O-Mai! Ancestor
of ancestors!\ we are in the forbidden chamber.'' Simultaneously
there came from behind the hangings beyond the grewsome dead a hollow
moan followed by a piercing scream, and the hangings shook and bellied
before their eyes.

With one accord, chieftains and warriors, they turned and bolted for
the doorway; a narrow doorway, where they jammed, fighting and screaming
in an effort to escape. They threw away their swords and clawed at
one another to make a passage for escape; those behind climbed upon
the shoulders of those in front; and some fell and were trampled upon;
but at last they all got through, and, the swiftest first, they bolted
across the two intervening chambers to the outer corridor beyond,
nor did they halt their mad retreat before they stumbled, weak and
trembling, into the banquet hall of O-Tar. At sight of them the warriors
who had remained with the jeddak leaped to their feet with drawn swords,
thinking that their fellows were pursued by many enemies; but no one
followed them into the room, and the three chieftains came and stood
before O-Tar with bowed heads and trembling knees.

{}``Well?''\ demanded the jeddak. {}``What ails you? Speak!''

{}``O-Tar,'' cried one of them when at last he could master his
voice. {}``When have we three failed you in battle or combat? Have
our swords been not always among the foremost in defense of your safety
and your honor?''

{}``Have I denied this?''\ demanded O-Tar.

{}``Listen, then, O Jeddak, and judge us with leniency. We followed
the two slaves to the apartments of O-Mai the Cruel. We entered the
accursed chambers and still we did not falter. We came at last to
that horrid chamber no human eye had scanned before in fifty centuries
and we looked upon the dead face of O-Mai lying as he has lain for
all this time. To the very death chamber of O-Mai the Cruel we came
and yet we were ready to go farther; when suddenly there broke upon
our horrified ears the moans and the shrieking that mark these haunted
chambers and the hangings moved and rustled in the dead air. O-Tar,
it was more than human nerves could endure. We turned and fled. We
threw away our swords and fought with one another to escape. With
sorrow, but without shame, I tell it, for there be no man in all Manator
that would not have done the same. If these slaves be Corphals they
are safe among their fellow ghosts. If they be not Corphals, then
already are they dead in the chambers of O-Mai, and there may they
rot for all of me, for I would not return to that accursed spot for
the harness of a jeddak and the half of Barsoom for an empire. I have
spoken.''

O-Tar knitted his scowling brows. {}``Are all my chieftains cowards
and cravens?''\ he demanded presently in sneering tones.

From among those who had not been of the searching party a chieftain
arose and turned a scowling face upon O-Tar.

{}``The jeddak knows,'' he said, {}``that in the annals of Manator
her jeddaks have ever been accounted the bravest of her warriors.
Where my jeddak leads I will follow, nor may any jeddak call me a
coward or a craven unless I refuse to go where he dares to go. I have
spoken.''

After he had resumed his seat there was a painful silence, for all
knew that the speaker had challenged the courage of O-Tar the Jeddak
of Manator and all awaited the reply of their ruler. In every mind
was the same thought\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]O-Tar must lead them
at once to the chamber of O-Mai the Cruel, or accept forever the stigma
of cowardice, and there could be no coward upon the throne of Manator.
That they all knew and that O-Tar knew, as well.

But O-Tar hesitated. He looked about upon the faces of those around
him at the banquet board; but he saw only the grim visages of relentless
warriors. There was no trace of leniency in the face of any. And then
his eyes wandered to a small entrance at one side of the great chamber.
An expression of relief expunged the scowl of anxiety from his features.

{}``Look!''\ he exclaimed. {}``See who has come!''


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER XX. THE CHARGE OF COWARDICE}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER XX.\\
THE CHARGE OF COWARDICE}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{THE CHARGE OF COWARDICE}

\textit{\emph{Gahan}}, watching through the aperture between the hangings,
saw the frantic flight of their pursuers. A grim smile rested upon
his lips as he viewed the mad scramble for safety and saw them throw
away their swords and fight with one another to be first from the
chamber of fear, and when they were all gone he turned back toward
Tara, the smile still upon his lips; but the smile died the instant
that he turned, for he saw that Tara had disappeared.

{}``Tara!''\ he called in a loud voice, for he knew that there
was no danger that their pursuers would return; but there was no response,
unless it was a faint sound as of cackling laughter from afar. Hurriedly
he searched the passageway behind the hangings finding several doors,
one of which was ajar. Through this he entered the adjoining chamber
which was lighted more brilliantly for the moment by the soft rays
of hurtling Thuria taking her mad way through the heavens. Here he
found the dust upon the floor disturbed, and the imprint of sandals.
They had come this way\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]Tara and whatever the
creature was that had stolen her.

But what could it have been? Gahan, a man of culture and high intelligence,
held few if any superstitions. In common with nearly all races of
Barsoom he clung, more or less inherently, to a certain exalted form
of ancestor worship, though it was rather the memory or legends of
the virtues and heroic deeds of his forebears that he deified rather
than themselves. He never expected any tangible evidence of their
existence after death; he did not believe that they had the power
either for good or for evil other than the effect that their example
while living might have had upon following generations; he did not
believe therefore in the materialization of dead spirits. If there
was a life hereafter he knew nothing of it, for he knew that science
had demonstrated the existence of some material cause for every seemingly
supernatural phenomenon of ancient religions and superstitions. Yet
he was at a loss to know what power might have removed Tara so suddenly
and mysteriously from his side in a chamber that had not known the
presence of man for five thousand years.

In the darkness he could not see whether there were the imprints of
other sandals than Tara's\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]only that the dust
was disturbed\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and when it led him into gloomy
corridors he lost the trail altogether. A perfect labyrinth of passages
and apartments was now revealed to him as he hurried on through the
deserted quarters of O-Mai. Here was an ancient bath\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]doubtless
that of the jeddak himself, and again he passed through a room in
which a meal had been laid upon a table five thousand years before\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the
untasted breakfast of O-Mai, perhaps. There passed before his eyes
in the brief moments that he traversed the chambers, a wealth of ornaments
and jewels and precious metals that surprised even the Jed of Gathol
whose harness was of diamonds and platinum and whose riches were the
envy of a world. But at last his search of O-Mai's chambers ended
in a small closet in the floor of which was the opening to a spiral
runway leading straight down into Stygian darkness. The dust at the
entrance of the closet had been freshly disturbed, and as this was
the only possible indication that Gahan had of the direction taken
by the abductor of Tara it seemed as well to follow on as to search
elsewhere. So, without hesitation, he descended into the utter darkness
below. Feeling with a foot before taking a forward step his descent
was necessarily slow, but Gahan was a Barsoomian and so knew the pitfalls
that might await the unwary in such dark, forbidden portions of a
jeddak's palace.

He had descended for what he judged might be three full levels and
was pausing, as he occasionally did, to listen, when he distinctly
heard a peculiar shuffling, scraping sound approaching him from below.
Whatever the thing was it was ascending the runway at a steady pace
and would soon be near him. Gahan laid his hand upon the hilt of his
sword and drew it slowly from its scabbard that he might make no noise
that would apprise the creature of his presence. He wished that there
might be even the slightest lessening of the darkness. If he could
see but the outline of the thing that approached him he would feel
that he had a fairer chance in the meeting; but he could see nothing,
and then because he could see nothing the end of his scabbard struck
the stone side of the runway, giving off a sound that the stillness
and the narrow confines of the passage and the darkness seemed to
magnify to a terrific clatter.

Instantly the shuffling sound of approach ceased. For a moment Gahan
stood in silent waiting, then casting aside discretion he moved on
again down the spiral. The thing, whatever it might be, gave forth
no sound now by which Gahan might locate it. At any moment it might
be upon him and so he kept his sword in readiness. Down, ever downward
the steep spiral led. The darkness and the silence of the tomb surrounded
him, yet somewhere ahead was something. He was not alone in that horrid
place\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]another presence that he could not hear
or see hovered before him\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]of that he was positive.
Perhaps it was the thing that had stolen Tara. Perhaps Tara herself,
still in the clutches of some nameless horror, was just ahead of him.
He quickened his pace\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]it became almost a run
at the thought of the danger that threatened the woman he loved, and
then he collided with a wooden door that swung open to the impact.
Before him was a lighted corridor. On either side were chambers. He
had advanced but a short distance from the bottom of the spiral when
he recognized that he was in the pits below the palace. A moment later
he heard behind him the shuffling sound that had attracted his attention
in the spiral runway. Wheeling about he saw the author of the sound
emerging from a doorway he had just passed. It was Ghek the kaldane.

{}``Ghek!''\ exclaimed Gahan. {}``It was you in the runway? Have
you seen Tara of Helium?''

{}``It was I in the spiral,'' replied the kaldane; {}``but I have
not seen Tara of Helium. I have been searching for her. Where is she?''

{}``I do not know,'' replied the Gatholian; {}``but we must find
her and take her from this place.''

{}``We may find her,'' said Ghek; {}``but I doubt our ability to
take her away. It is not so easy to leave Manator as it is to enter
it. I may come and go at will, through the ancient burrows of the
ulsios; but you are too large for that and your lungs need more air
than may be found in some of the deeper runways.''

{}``But U-Thor!''\ exclaimed Gahan. {}``Have you heard aught of
him or his intentions?''

{}``I have heard much,'' replied Ghek. {}``He camps at The Gate
of Enemies. That spot he holds and his warriors lie just beyond The
Gate; but he has not sufficient force to enter the city and take the
palace. An hour since and you might have made your way to him; but
now every avenue is strongly guarded since O-Tar learned that A-Kor
had escaped to U-Thor.''

{}``A-Kor has escaped and joined U-Thor!''\ exclaimed Gahan.

{}``But little more than an hour since. I was with him when a warrior
came\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a man whose name is Tasor\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]who
brought a message from you. It was decided that Tasor should accompany
A-Kor in an attempt to reach the camp of U-Thor, the great jed of
Manatos, and exact from him the assurances you required. Then Tasor
was to return and take food to you and the Princess of Helium. I accompanied
them. We won through easily and found U-Thor more than willing to
respect your every wish, but when Tasor would have returned to you
the way was blocked by the warriors of O-Tar. Then it was that I volunteered
to come to you and report and find food and drink and then go forth
among the Gatholian slaves of Manator and prepare them for their part
in the plan that U-Thor and Tasor conceived.''

{}``And what was this plan?''

{}``U-Thor has sent for reinforcements. To Manatos he has sent and
to all the outlying districts that are his. It will take a month to
collect and bring them hither and in the meantime the slaves within
the city are to organize secretly, stealing and hiding arms against
the day that the reinforcements arrive. When that day comes the forces
of U-Thor will enter the Gate of Enemies and as the warriors of O-Tar
rush to repulse them the slaves from Gathol will fall upon them from
the rear with the majority of their numbers, while the balance will
assault the palace. They hope thus to divert so many from The Gate
that U-Thor will have little difficulty in forcing an entrance to
the city.''

{}``Perhaps they will succeed,'' commented Gahan; {}``but the warriors
of O-Tar are many, and those who fight in defense of their homes and
their jeddak have always an advantage. Ah, Ghek, would that we had
the great warships of Gathol or of Helium to pour their merciless
fire into the streets of Manator while U-Thor marched to the palace
over the corpses of the slain.'' He paused, deep in thought, and
then turned his gaze again upon the kaldane. {}``Heard you aught
of the party that escaped with me from The Field of Jetan\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]of
Floran, Val Dor, and the others? What of them?''

{}``Ten of these won through to U-Thor at The Gate of Enemies and
were well received by him. Eight fell in the fighting upon the way.
Val Dor and Floran live, I believe, for I am sure that I heard U-Thor
address two warriors by these names.''

{}``Good!''\ exclaimed Gahan. {}``Go then, through the burrows
of the ulsios, to The Gate of Enemies and carry to Floran the message
that I shall write in his own language. Come, while I write the message.''

In a nearby room they found a bench and table and there Gahan sat
and wrote in the strange, stenographic characters of Martian script
a message to Floran of Gathol. {}``Why,'' he asked, when he had
finished it, {}``did you search for Tara through the spiral runway
where we nearly met?''

{}``Tasor told me where you were to be found, and as I have explored
the greater part of the palace by means of the ulsio runways and the
darker and less frequented passages I knew precisely where you were
and how to reach you. This secret spiral ascends from the pits to
the roof of the loftiest of the palace towers. It has secret openings
at every level; but there is no living Manatorian, I believe, who
knows of its existence. At least never have I met one within it and
I have used it many times. Thrice have I been in the chamber where
O-Mai lies, though I knew nothing of his identity or the story of
his death until Tasor told it to us in the camp of U-Thor.''

{}``You know the palace thoroughly then?''\ Gahan interrupted.

{}``Better than O-Tar himself or any of his servants.''

{}``Good! An you would serve the Princess Tara, Ghek, you may serve
her best by accompanying Floran and following his instructions. I
will write them here at the close of my message to him, for the walls
have ears, Ghek, while none but a Gatholian may read what I have written
to Floran. He will transmit it to you. Can I trust you?''

{}``I may never return to Bantoom,'' replied Ghek. {}``Therefore
I have but two friends in all Barsoom. What better may I do than serve
them faithfully? You may trust me, Gatholian, who with a woman of
your kind has taught me that there be finer and nobler things than
perfect mentality uninfluenced by the unreasoning tuitions of the
heart. I go.''

\bigskip{}
As O-Tar pointed to the little doorway all eyes turned in the direction
he indicated and surprise was writ large upon the faces of the warriors
when they recognized the two who had entered the banquet hall. There
was I-Gos, and he dragged behind him one who was gagged and whose
hands were fastened behind with a ribbon of tough silk. It was the
slave girl. I-Gos' cackling laughter rose above the silence of the
room.

{}``Ey, ey!''\ he shrilled. {}``What the young warriors of O-Tar
cannot do, old I-Gos does alone.''

{}``Only a Corphal may capture a Corphal,'' growled one of the chiefs
who had fled from the chambers of O-Mai.

I-Gos laughed. {}``Terror turned your heart to water,'' he replied;
{}``and shame your tongue to libel. This be no Corphal, but only
a woman of Helium; her companion a warrior who can match blades with
the best of you and cut your putrid hearts. Not so in the days of
I-Gos' youth. Ah, then were there men in Manator. Well do I recall
that day that I\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]''

{}``Peace, doddering fool!''\ commanded O-Tar. {}``Where is the
man?''

{}``Where I found the woman\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]in the death
chamber of O-Mai. Let your wise and brave chieftains go thither and
fetch him. I am an old man, and could bring but one.''

{}``You have done well, I-Gos,'' O-Tar hastened to assure him, for
when he learned that Gahan might still be in the haunted chambers
he wished to appease the wrath of I-Gos, knowing well the vitriolic
tongue and temper of the ancient one. {}``You think she is no Corphal,
then, I-Gos?''\ he asked, wishing to carry the subject from the
man who was still at large.

{}``No more than you,'' replied the ancient taxidermist.

O-Tar looked long and searchingly at Tara of Helium. All the beauty
that was hers seemed suddenly to be carried to every fibre of his
consciousness. She was still garbed in the rich harness of a Black
Princess of Jetan, and as O-Tar the Jeddak gazed upon her he realized
that never before had his eyes rested upon a more perfect figure\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a
more beautiful face.

{}``She is no Corphal,'' he murmured to himself. {}``She is no
Corphal and she is a princess\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a princess of
Helium, and, by the golden hair of the Holy Hekkador, she is beautiful.
Take the gag from her mouth and release her hands,'' he commanded
aloud. {}``Make room for the Princess Tara of Helium at the side
of O-Tar of Manator. She shall dine as becomes a princess.''

Slaves did as O-Tar bid and Tara of Helium stood with flashing eyes
behind the chair that was offered her. {}``Sit!''\ commanded O-Tar.

The girl sank into the chair. {}``I sit as a prisoner,'' she said;
{}``not as a guest at the board of my enemy, O-Tar of Manator.''

O-Tar motioned his followers from the room. {}``I would speak alone
with the Princess of Helium,'' he said. The company and the slaves
withdrew and once more the Jeddak of Manator turned toward the girl.
{}``O-Tar of Manator would be your friend,'' he said.

Tara of Helium sat with arms folded upon her small, firm breasts,
her eyes flashing from behind narrowed lids, nor did she deign to
answer his overture. O-Tar leaned closer to her. He noted the hostility
of her bearing and he recalled his first encounter with her. She was
a she-banth, but she was beautiful. She was by far the most desirable
woman that O-Tar had ever looked upon and he was determined to possess
her. He told her so.

{}``I could take you as my slave,'' he said to her; {}``but it
pleases me to make you my wife. You shall be Jeddara of Manator. You
shall have seven days in which to prepare for the great honor that
O-Tar is conferring upon you, and at this hour of the seventh day
you shall become an empress and the wife of O-Tar in the throne room
of the jeddaks of Manator.'' He struck a gong that stood beside him
upon the table and when a slave appeared he bade him recall the company.
Slowly the chiefs filed in and took their places at the table. Their
faces were grim and scowling, for there was still unanswered the question
of their jeddak's courage. If O-Tar had hoped they would forget he
had been mistaken in his men.

O-Tar arose. {}``In seven days,'' he an\-noun\-c\-ed, {}``there
will be a great feast in honor of the new Jeddara of Manator,'' and
he waved his hand toward Tara of Helium. {}``The ceremony will occur
at the beginning of the seventh zode%
\footnote{About 8:30 P.\ M.\ Earth Time.%
} in the throne room. In the meantime the Princess of Helium will be
cared for in the tower of the women's quarters of the palace. Conduct
her thither, E-Thas, with a suitable guard of honor and see to it
that slaves and eunuchs be placed at her disposal, who shall attend
upon all her wants and guard her carefully from harm.''

Now E-Thas knew that the real meaning concealed in these fine words
was that he should conduct the prisoner under a strong guard to the
women's quarters and confine her there in the tower for seven days,
placing about her trustworthy guards who would prevent her escape
or frustrate any attempted rescue.

As Tara was departing from the chamber with E-Thas and the guard,
O-Tar leaned close to her ear and whispered: {}``Consider well during
these seven days the high honor I have offered you, and\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]its
sole alternative.'' As though she had not heard him the girl passed
out of the banquet hall, her head high and her eyes straight to the
front.

After Ghek had left him Gahan roamed the pits and the ancient corridors
of the deserted portions of the palace seeking some clue to the whereabouts
or the fate of Tara of Helium. He utilized the spiral runway in passing
from level to level until he knew every foot of it from the pits to
the summit of the high tower, and into what apartments it opened at
the various levels as well as the ingenious and hidden mechanism that
operated the locks of the cleverly concealed doors leading to it.
For food he drew upon the stores he found in the pits and when he
slept he lay upon the royal couch of O-Mai in the forbidden chamber
sharing the dais with the dead foot of the ancient jeddak.

In the palace about him seethed, all unknown to Gahan, a vast unrest.
Warriors and chieftains pursued the duties of their vocations with
dour faces, and little knots of them were collecting here and there
and with frowns of anger discussing some subject that was uppermost
in the minds of all. It was upon the fourth day following Tara's incarceration
in the tower that E-Thas, the major-domo of the palace and one of
O-Tar's creatures, came to his master upon some trivial errand. O-Tar
was alone in one of the smaller chambers of his personal suite when
the major-domo was announced, and after the matter upon which E-Thas
had come was disposed of the jeddak signed him to remain.

{}``From the position of an obscure warrior I have elevated you,
E-Thas, to the honors of a chief. Within the confines of the palace
your word is second only to mine. You are not loved for this, E-Thas,
and should another jeddak ascend the throne of Manator what would
become of you, whose enemies are among the most powerful of Manator?''

{}``Speak not of it, O-Tar,'' begged E-Thas. {}``These last few
days I have thought upon it much and I would forget it; but I have
sought to appease the wrath of my worst enemies. I have been very
kind and indulgent with them.''

{}``You, too, read the voiceless message in the air?''\ demanded
the jeddak.

E-Thas was palpably uneasy and he did not reply.

{}``Why did you not come to me with your apprehensions?''\ demanded
O-Tar. {}``Be this loyalty?''

{}``I feared, O mighty jeddak!''\ replied E-Thas. {}``I feared
that you would not understand and that you would be angry.''

{}``What know you? Speak the whole truth!''\ commanded O-Tar.

{}``There is much unrest among the chieftains and the warriors,''
replied E-Thas. {}``Even those who were your friends fear the power
of those who speak against you.''

{}``What say they?''\ growled the jeddak.

{}``They say that you are afraid to enter the apartments of O-Mai
in search of the slave Turan\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]oh, do not be
angry with me, Jeddak; it is but what they say that I repeat. I, your
loyal E-Thas, believe no such foul slander.''

{}``No, no; why should I fear?''\ demanded O-Tar. {}``We do not
know that he is there. Did not my chiefs go thither and see nothing
of him?''

{}``But they say that you did not go,'' pursued E-Thas, {}``and
that they will have none of a coward upon the throne of Manator.''

{}``They said that treason?''\ O-Tar almost shouted.

{}``They said that and more, great jeddak,'' answered the major-domo.
{}``They said that not only did you fear to enter the chambers of
O-Mai, but that you feared the slave Turan, and they blame you for
your treatment of A-Kor, whom they all believe to have been murdered
at your command. They were fond of A-Kor and there are many now who
say aloud that A-Kor would have made a wondrous jeddak.''

{}``They dare?''\ screamed O-Tar. {}``They dare suggest the name
of a slave's bastard for the throne of O-Tar!''

{}``He is your son, O-Tar,'' E-Thas reminded him, {}``nor is there
a more beloved man in Manator\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]I but speak
to you of facts which may not be ignored, and I dare do so because
only when you realize the truth may you seek a cure for the ills that
draw about your throne.''

O-Tar had slumped down upon his bench\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]suddenly
he looked shrunken and tired and old. {}``Cursed be the day,'' he
cried, {}``that saw those three strangers enter the city of Manator.
Would that U-Dor had been spared to me. He was strong\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]my
enemies feared him; but he is gone\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]dead at
the hands of that hateful slave, Turan; may the curse of Issus be
upon him!''

{}``My jeddak, what shall we do?''\ begged E-Thas. {}``Cursing
the slave will not solve your problems.''

{}``But the great feast and the marriage is but three days off,''
plead O-Tar. {}``It shall be a great gala occasion. The warriors
and the chiefs all know that\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]it is the custom.
Upon that day gifts and honors shall be bestowed. Tell me, who are
most bitter against me? I will send you among them and let it be known
that I am planning rewards for their past services to the throne.
We will make jeds of chiefs and chiefs of warriors, and grant them
palaces and slaves. Eh, E-Thas?''

The other shook his head. {}``It will not do, O-Tar. They will have
nothing of your gifts or honors. I have heard them say as much.''

{}``What do they want?''\ demanded O-Tar.

{}``They want a jeddak as brave as the bravest,'' replied E-Thas,
though his knees shook as he said it.

{}``They think I am a coward?''\ cried the jeddak.

{}``They say you are afraid to go to the apartments of O-mai the
Cruel.''

For a long time O-Tar sat, his head sunk upon his breast, staring
blankly at the floor.

{}``Tell them,'' he said at last in a hollow voice that sounded
not at all like the voice of a great jeddak; {}``tell them that I
will go to the chambers of O-Mai and search for Turan the slave.''


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER XXI. A RISK FOR LOVE}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER XXI.\\
A RISK FOR LOVE}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{A RISK FOR LOVE}

{}``\textit{\emph{Ey}}, ey, he is a craven and he called me `doddering
fool'!''\ The speaker was I-Gos and he addressed a knot of chieftains
in one of the chambers of the palace of O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator:
{}``If A-Kor was alive there were a jeddak for us!''

{}``Who says that A-Kor is dead?''\ demanded one of the chiefs.

{}``Where is he then?''\ asked I-Gos. {}``Have not others disappeared
whom O-Tar thought too well beloved for men so near the throne as
they?''

The chief shook his head. {}``An I thought that, or knew it, rather;
I'd join U-Thor at The Gate of Enemies.''

{}``S-s-st,'' cautioned one; {}``here comes the licker of feet,''
and all eyes were turned upon the approaching E-Thas.

{}``Kaor, friends!''\ he exclaimed as he stopped among them, but
his friendly greeting elicited naught but a few surly nods. {}``Have
you heard the news?''\ he continued, unabashed by treatment to which
he was becoming accustomed.

{}``What\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]has O-Tar seen an ulsio and fainted?''\ demanded
I-Gos with broad sarcasm.

{}``Men have died for less than that, ancient one,'' E-Thas reminded
him.

{}``I am safe,'' retorted I-Gos, {}``for I am not a brave and popular
son of the jeddak of Manator.''

This was indeed open treason, but E-Thas feigned not to hear it. He
ignored I-Gos and turned to the others. {}``O-Tar goes to the chamber
of O-Mai this night in search of Turan the slave,'' he said. {}``He
sorrows that his warriors have not the courage for so mean a duty
and that their jeddak is thus compelled to arrest a common slave,''
with which taunt E-Thas passed on to spread the word in other parts
of the palace. As a matter of fact the latter part of his message
was purely original with himself, and he took great delight in delivering
it to the discomfiture of his enemies. As he was leaving the little
group of men I-Gos called after him. {}``At what hour does O-Tar
intend visiting the chambers of O-Mai?''\ he asked.

{}``Toward the end of the eighth zode%
\footnote{About 1:00 A.\ M.\ Earth Time.%
},'' replied the major-domo, and went his way.

{}``We shall see,'' stated I-Gos.

{}``What shall we see?''\ asked a warrior.

{}``We shall see whether O-Tar visits the chamber of O-Mai.''

{}``How?''

{}``I shall be there myself and if I see him I will know that he
has been there. If I don't see him I will know that he has not,''
explained the old taxidermist.

{}``Is there anything there to fill an honest man with fear?''\ asked
a chieftain. {}``What have you seen?''

{}``It was not so much what I saw, though that was bad enough, as
what I heard,'' said I-Gos.

{}``Tell us! What heard and saw you?''

{}``I saw the dead O-Mai,'' said I-Gos. The others shuddered.

{}``And you went not mad?''\ they asked.

{}``Am I mad?''\ retorted I-Gos.

{}``And you will go again?''

{}``Yes.''

{}``Then indeed you are mad,'' cried one.

{}``You saw the dead O-Mai; but what heard you that was worse?''
whispered another.

{}``I saw the dead O-Mai lying upon the floor of his sleeping chamber
with one foot tangled in the sleeping silks and furs upon his couch.
I heard horrid moans and frightful screams.''

{}``And you are not afraid to go there again?''\ demanded several.

{}``The dead cannot harm me,'' said I-Gos. {}``He has lain thus
for five thousand years. Nor can a sound harm me. I heard it once
and live\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]I can hear it again. It came from
almost at my side where I hid behind the hangings and watched the
slave Turan before I snatched the woman away from him.''

{}``I-Gos, you are a very brave man,'' said a chieftain.

{}``O-Tar called me `doddering fool' and I would face worse dangers
than lie in the forbidden chambers of O-Mai to know it if he does
not visit the chamber of O-Mai. Then indeed shall O-Tar fall!''

The night came and the zodes dragged and the time approached when
O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator, was to visit the chamber of O-Mai in search
of the slave Turan. To us, who may doubt the existence of malignant
spirits, his fear may seem unbelievable, for he was a strong man,
an excellent swordsman, and a warrior of great repute; but the fact
remained that O-Tar of Manator was nervous with apprehension as he
strode the corridors of his palace toward the deserted halls of O-Mai
and when he stood at last with his hand upon the door that opened
from the dusty corridor to the very apartments themselves he was almost
paralyzed with terror. He had come alone for two very excellent reasons,
the first of which was that thus none might note his terror-stricken
state nor his defection should he fail at the last moment, and the
other was that should he accomplish the thing alone or be able to
make his chiefs believe that he had, the credit would be far greater
than were he to be accompanied by warriors.

But though he had started alone he had become aware that he was being
followed, and he knew that it was because his people had no faith
in either his courage or his veracity. He did not believe that he
would find the slave Turan. He did not very much want to find him,
for though O-Tar was an excellent swordsman and a brave warrior in
physical combat, he had seen how Turan had played with U-Dor and he
had no stomach for a passage at arms with one whom he knew outclassed
him.

And so O-Tar stood with his hand upon the door\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]afraid
to enter; afraid not to. But at last his fear of his own warriors,
watching behind him, grew greater than the fear of the unknown behind
the ancient door and he pushed the heavy skeel aside and entered.

Silence and gloom and the dust of centuries lay heavy upon the chamber.
From his warriors he knew the route that he must take to the horrid
chamber of O-Mai and so he forced his unwilling feet across the room
before him, across the room where the jetan players sat at their eternal
game, and came to the short corridor that led into the room of O-Mai.
His naked sword trembled in his grasp. He paused after each forward
step to listen and when he was almost at the door of the ghost-haunted
chamber, his heart stood still within his breast and the cold sweat
broke from the clammy skin of his forehead, for from within there
came to his affrighted ears the sound of muffled breathing. Then it
was that O-Tar of Manator came near to fleeing from the nameless horror
that he could not see, but that he knew lay waiting for him in that
chamber just ahead. But again came the fear of the wrath and contempt
of his warriors and his chiefs. They would degrade him and they would
slay him into the bargain. There was no doubt of what his fate would
be should he flee the apartments of O-Mai in terror. His only hope,
therefore, lay in daring the unknown in preference to the known.

He moved forward. A few steps took him to the doorway. The chamber
before him was darker than the corridor, so that he could just indistinctly
make out the objects in the room. He saw a sleeping dais near the
center, with a darker blotch of something lying on the marble floor
beside it. He moved a step farther into the doorway and the scabbard
of his sword scraped against the stone frame. To his horror he saw
the sleeping silks and furs upon the central dais move. He saw a figure
slowly arising to a sitting posture from the death bed of O-Mai the
Cruel. His knees shook, but he gathered all his moral forces, and
gripping his sword more tightly in his trembling fingers prepared
to leap across the chamber upon the horrid apparition. He hesitated
just a moment. He felt eyes upon him\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]ghoulish
eyes that bored through the darkness into his withering heart\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]eyes
that he could not see. He gathered himself for the rush\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]and
then there broke from the thing upon the couch an awful shriek, and
O-Tar sank senseless to the floor.

Gahan rose from the couch of O-Mai, smiling, only to swing quickly
about with drawn sword as the shadow of a noise impinged upon his
keen ears from the shadows behind him. Between the parted hangings
he saw a bent and wrinkled figure. It was I-Gos.

{}``Sheathe your sword, Turan,'' said the old man. {}``You have
naught to fear from I-Gos.''

{}``What do you here?''\ demanded Gahan.

{}``I came to make sure that the great coward did not cheat us. Ey,
and he called me `doddering fool;' but look at him now! Stricken insensible
by terror, but, ey, one might forgive him that who had heard your
uncanny scream. It all but blasted my own courage. And it was you,
then, who moaned and screamed when the chiefs came the day that I
stole Tara from you?''

{}``It was you, then, old scoundrel?''\ demanded Gahan, moving
threateningly toward I-Gos.

{}``Come, come!''\ expostulated the old man; {}``it was I, but
then I was your enemy. I would not do it now. Conditions have changed.''

{}``How have they changed? What has changed them?''\ asked Gahan.

{}``Then I did not fully realize the cowardice of my jeddak, or the
bravery of you and the girl. I am an old man from another age and
I love courage. At first I resented the girl's attack upon me, but
later I came to see the bravery of it and it won my admiration, as
have all her acts. She feared not O-tar, she feared not me, she feared
not all the warriors of Manator. And you! Blood of a million sires!\ how
you fight! I am sorry that I exposed you at The Fields of Jetan. I
am sorry that I dragged the girl Tara back to O-Tar. I would make
amends. I would be your friend. Here is my sword at your feet,''
and drawing his weapon I-Gos cast it to the floor in front of Gahan.

The Gatholian knew that scarce the most abandoned of knaves would
repudiate this solemn pledge, and so he stooped, and picking up the
old man's sword returned it to him, hilt first, in acceptance of his
friendship.

{}``Where is the Princess Tara of Helium?''\ asked Gahan. {}``Is
she safe?''

{}``She is confined in the tower of the women's quarters awaiting
the ceremony that is to make her Jeddara of Manator,'' replied I-Gos.

{}``This thing dared think that Tara of Helium would mate with him?''\ 
growled Gahan. {}``I will make short work of him if he is not already
dead from fright,'' and he stepped toward the fallen O-Tar to run
his sword through the jeddak's heart.

{}``No!''\ cried I-Gos. {}``Slay him not and pray that he be not
dead if you would save your princess.''

{}``How is that?''\ asked Gahan.

{}``If word of O-Tar's death reached the quarters of the women the
Princess Tara would be lost. They know O-Tar's intention of taking
her to wife and making her Jeddara of Manator, so you may rest assured
that they all hate her with the hate of jealous women. Only O-Tar's
power protects her now from harm. Should O-Tar die they would turn
her over to the warriors and the male slaves, for there would be none
to avenge her.''

Gahan sheathed his sword. {}``Your point is well taken; but what
shall we do with him?''

{}``Leave him where he lies,'' counseled I-Gos. {}``He is not dead.
When he revives he will return to his quarters with a fine tale of
his bravery and there will be none to impugn his boasts\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]none
but I-Gos. Come!\ he may revive at any moment and he must not find
us here.''

I-Gos crossed to the body of his jeddak, knelt beside it for an instant,
and then returned past the couch to Gahan. The two quit the chamber
of O-Mai and took their way toward the spiral runway. Here I-Gos led
Gahan to a higher level and out upon the roof of that portion of the
palace from where he pointed to a high tower quite close by. {}``There,''
he said, {}``lies the Princess of Helium, and quite safe she will
be until the time of the ceremony.''

{}``Safe, possibly, from other hands, but not from her own,'' said
Gahan. {}``She will never become Jeddara of Manator\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]first
will she destroy herself.''

{}``She would do that?''\ asked I-Gos.

{}``She will, unless you can get word to her that I still live and
that there is yet hope,'' replied Gahan.

{}``I cannot get word to her,'' said I-Gos. {}``The quarters of
his women O-Tar guards with jealous hand. Here are his most trusted
slaves and warriors, yet even so, thick among them are countless spies,
so that no man knows which be which. No shadow falls within those
chambers that is not marked by a hundred eyes.''

Gahan stood gazing at the lighted windows of the high tower in the
upper chambers of which Tara of Helium was confined. {}``I will find
a way, I-Gos,'' he said.

{}``There is no way,'' replied the old man.

For some time they stood upon the roof beneath the brilliant stars
and hurtling moons of dying Mars, laying their plans against the time
that Tara of Helium should be brought from the high tower to the throne
room of O-Tar. It was then, and then alone, argued I-Gos, that any
hope of rescuing her might be entertained. Just how far he might trust
the other Gahan did not know, and so he kept to himself the knowledge
of the plan that he had forwarded to Floran and Val Dor by Ghek, but
he assured the ancient taxidermist that if he were sincere in his
oft-repeated declaration that O-Tar should be denounced and superseded
he would have his opportunity on the night that the jeddak sought
to wed the Heliumetic princess.

{}``Your time shall come then, I-Gos,'' Gahan assured the other,
{}``and if you have any party that thinks as you do, prepare them
for the eventuality that will succeed O-Tar's presumptuous attempt
to wed the daughter of The Warlord. Where shall I see you again, and
when? I go now to speak with Tara, Princess of Helium.''

{}``I like your boldness,'' said I-Gos; {}``but it will avail you
naught. You will not speak with Tara, Princess of Helium, though doubtless
the blood of many Manatorians will drench the floors of the women's
quarters before you are slain.''

Gahan smiled. {}``I shall not be slain. Where and when shall we meet?
But you may find me in O-Mai's chamber at night. That seems the safest
retreat in all Manator for an enemy of the jeddak in whose palace
it lies. I go!''

{}``And may the spirits of your ancestors surround you,'' said I-Gos.

After the old man had left him Gahan made his way across the roof
to the high tower, which appeared to have been constructed of concrete
and afterward elaborately carved, its entire surface being covered
with intricate designs cut deep into the stone-like material of which
it was composed. Though wrought ages since, it was but little weather-worn
owing to the aridity of the Martian atmosphere, the infrequency of
rains, and the rarity of dust storms. To scale it, though, presented
difficulties and danger that might have deterred the bravest of men\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]that
would, doubtless, have deterred Gahan, had he not felt that the life
of the woman he loved depended upon his accomplishing the hazardous
feat.

Removing his sandals and laying aside all of his harness and weapons
other than a single belt supporting a dagger, the Gatholian essayed
the dangerous ascent. Clinging to the carvings with hands and feet
he worked himself slowly aloft, avoiding the windows and keeping upon
the shadowy side of the tower, away from the light of Thuria and Cluros.
The tower rose some fifty feet above the roof of the adjacent part
of the palace, comprising five levels or floors with windows looking
in every direction. A few of the windows were balconied, and these
more than the others he sought to avoid, although, it being now near
the close of the ninth zode, there was little likelihood that many
were awake within the tower.

His progress was noiseless and he came at last, undetected, to the
windows of the upper level. These, like several of the others he had
passed at lower levels, were heavily barred, so that there was no
possibility of his gaining ingress to the apartment where Tara was
confined. Darkness hid the interior behind the first window that he
approached. The second opened upon a lighted chamber where he could
see a guard sleeping at his post outside a door. Here also was the
top of the runway leading to the next level below. Passing still farther
around the tower Gahan approached another window, but now he clung
to that side of the tower which ended in a courtyard a hundred feet
below and in a short time the light of Thuria would reach him. He
realized that he must hasten and he prayed that behind the window
he now approached he would find Tara of Helium.

Coming to the opening he looked in upon a small chamber dimly lighted.
In the center was a sleeping dais upon which a human form lay beneath
silks and furs. A bare arm, protruding from the coverings, lay exposed
against a black and yellow striped orluk skin\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]an
arm of wondrous beauty about which was clasped an armlet that Gahan
knew. No other creature was visible within the chamber, all of which
was exposed to Gahan's view. Pressing his face to the bars the Gatholian
whispered her dear name. The girl stirred, but did not awaken. Again
he called, but this time louder. Tara sat up and looked about and
at the same instant a huge eunuch leaped to his feet from where he
had been lying on the floor close by that side of the dais farthest
from Gahan. Simultaneously the brilliant light of Thuria flashed full
upon the window where Gahan clung silhouetting him plainly to the
two within.

Both sprang to their feet. The eunuch drew his sword and leaped for
the window where the helpless Gahan would have fallen an easy victim
to a single thrust of the murderous weapon the fellow bore, had not
Tara of Helium leaped upon her guard dragging him back. At the same
time she drew the slim dagger from its hiding place in her harness
and even as the eunuch sought to hurl her aside its keen point found
his heart. Without a sound he died and lunged forward to the floor.
Then Tara ran to the window.

{}``Turan, my chief!''\ she cried. {}``What awful risk is this
you take to seek me here, where even your brave heart is powerless
to aid me.''

{}``Be not so sure of that, heart of my heart,'' he replied. {}``While
I bring but words to my love, they be the forerunner of deeds, I hope,
that will give her back to me forever. I feared that you might destroy
yourself, Tara of Helium, to escape the dishonor that O-Tar would
do you, and so I came to give you new hope and to beg that you live
for me through whatever may transpire, in the knowledge that there
is yet a way and that if all goes well we shall be freed at last.
Look for me in the throne room of O-Tar the night that he would wed
you. And now, how may we dispose of this fellow?''\ He pointed to
the dead eunuch upon the floor.

{}``We need not concern ourselves about that,'' she replied. {}``None
dares harm me for fear of the wrath of O-Tar\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]otherwise
I should have been dead so soon as ever I entered this portion of
the palace, for the women hate me. O-Tar alone may punish me, and
what cares O-Tar for the life of a eunuch? No, fear not upon this
score.''

Their hands were clasped between the bars and now Gahan drew her nearer
to him.

{}``One kiss,'' he said, {}``before I go, my princess,'' and the
proud daughter of Dejah Thoris, Princess of Helium, and The Warlord
of Barsoom whispered: {}``My chieftain!''\ and pressed her lips
to the lips of Turan, the common panthan.


\chapter*{\raggedright CHAPTER XXII. AT THE MOMENT OF MARRIAGE}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{CHAPTER XXII.\\
AT THE MOMENT OF MARRIAGE}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{AT THE MOMENT OF MARRIAGE}

\textit{\emph{The}} silence of the tomb lay heavy about him as O-Tar,
Jeddak of Manator, opened his eyes in the chamber of O-Mai. Recollection
of the frightful apparition that had confronted him swept to his consciousness.
He listened, but heard naught. Within the range of his vision there
was nothing apparent that might cause alarm. Slowly he lifted his
head and looked about. Upon the floor beside the couch lay the thing
that had at first attracted his attention and his eyes closed in terror
as he recognized it for what it was; but it moved not, nor spoke.
O-Tar opened his eyes again and rose to his feet. He was trembling
in every limb. There was nothing on the dais from which he had seen
the thing arise.

O-Tar backed slowly from the room. At last he gained the outer corridor.
It was empty. He did not know that it had emptied rapidly as the loud
scream with which his own had mingled had broken upon the startled
ears of the warriors who had been sent to spy upon him. He looked
at the timepiece set in a massive bracelet upon his left forearm.
The ninth zode was nearly half gone. O-Tar had lain for an hour unconscious.
He had spent an hour in the chamber of O-Mai and he was not dead!
He had looked upon the face of his predecessor and was still sane!
He shook himself and smiled. Rapidly he subdued his rebelliously shaking
nerves, so that by the time he reached the tenanted portion of the
palace he had gained control of himself. He walked with chin high
and something of a swagger. To the banquet hall he went, knowing that
his chiefs awaited him there and as he entered they arose and upon
the faces of many were incredulity and amaze, for they had not thought
to see O-Tar the jeddak again after what the spies had told them of
the horrid sounds issuing from the chamber of O-Mai. Thankful was
O-Tar that he had gone alone to that chamber of fright, for now no
one could deny the tale that he should tell.

E-Thas rushed forward to greet him, for E-Thas had seen black looks
directed toward him as the tals slipped by and his benefactor failed
to return.

{}``O brave and glorious jeddak!''\ cried the major-domo. {}``We
rejoice at your safe return and beg of you the story of your adventure.''

{}``It was naught,'' exclaimed O-Tar. {}``I searched the chambers
carefully and waited in hiding for the return of the slave, Turan,
if he were temporarily away; but he came not. He is not there and
I doubt if he ever goes there. Few men would choose to remain long
in such a dismal place.''

{}``You were not attacked?''\ asked E-Thas. {}``You heard no screams,
nor moans?''

{}``I heard hideous noises and saw phantom figures; but they fled
before me so that never could I lay hold of one, and I looked upon
the face of O-Mai and I am not mad. I even rested in the chamber beside
his corpse.''

In a far corner of the room a bent and wrinkled old man hid a smile
behind a golden goblet of strong brew.

{}``Come! Let us drink!''\ cried O-Tar and reach\-ed for the dagger,
the pommel of which he was accustomed to use to strike the gong which
summoned slaves, but the dagger was not in its scabbard. O-Tar was
puzzled. He knew that it had been there just before he entered the
chamber of O-Mai, for he had carefully felt of all his weapons to
make sure that none was missing. He seized instead a table utensil
and struck the gong, and when the slaves came bade them bring the
strongest brew for O-Tar and his chiefs. Before the dawn broke many
were the expressions of admiration bellowed from drunken lips\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]admiration
for the courage of their jeddak; but some there were who still looked
glum.

Came at last the day that O-Tar would take the Princess Tara of Helium
to wife. For hours slaves prepared the unwilling bride. Seven perfumed
baths occupied three long and weary hours, then her whole body was
anointed with the oil of pimalia blossoms and massaged by the deft
fingers of a slave from distant Dusar. Her harness, all new and wrought
for the occasion was of the white hide of the great white apes of
Barsoom, hung heavily with platinum and diamonds\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]fairly
encrusted with them. The glossy mass of her jet hair had been built
into a coiffure of stately and becoming grandeur, into which diamond-headed
pins were stuck until the whole scintillated as the stars in heaven
upon a moonless night.

But it was a sullen and defiant bride that they led from the high
tower toward the throne room of O-Tar. The corridors were filled with
slaves and warriors, and the women of the palace and the city who
had been commanded to attend the ceremony. All the power and pride,
wealth and beauty of Manator were there.

Slowly Tara, surrounded by a heavy guard of honor, moved along the
marble corridors filled with people. At the entrance to The Hall of
Chiefs E-Thas, the major-domo, received her. The Hall was empty except
for its ranks of dead chieftains upon their dead mounts. Through this
long chamber E-Thas escorted her to the throne room which also was
empty, the marriage ceremony in Manator differing from that of other
countries of Barsoom. Here the bride would await the groom at the
foot of the steps leading to the throne. The guests followed her in
and took their places, leaving the central aisle from The Hall of
Chiefs to the throne clear, for up this O-Tar would approach his bride
alone after a short solitary communion with the dead behind closed
doors in The Hall of Chiefs. It was the custom.

The guests had all filed through The Hall of Chiefs; the doors at
both ends had been closed. Presently those at the lower end of the
hall opened and O-Tar entered. His black harness was ornamented with
rubies and gold; his face was covered by a grotesque mask of the precious
metal in which two enormous rubies were set for eyes, though below
them were narrow slits through which the wearer could see. His crown
was a fillet supporting carved feathers of the same metal as the mask.
To the least detail his regalia was that demanded of a royal bridegroom
by the customs of Manator, and now in accordance with that same custom
he came alone to The Hall of Chiefs to receive the blessings and the
council of the great ones of Manator who had preceded him.

As the doors at the lower end of the Hall closed behind him O-Tar
the Jeddak stood alone with the great dead. By the dictates of ages
no mortal eye might look upon the scene enacted within that sacred
chamber. As the mighty of Manator respected the traditions of Manator,
let us, too, respect those traditions of a proud and sensitive people.
Of what concern to us the happenings in that solemn chamber of the
dead?

Five minutes passed. The bride stood silently at the foot of the throne.
The guests spoke together in low whispers until the room was filled
with the hum of many voices. At length the doors leading into The
Hall of Chiefs swung open, and the resplendent bridegroom stood framed
for a moment in the massive opening. A hush fell upon the wedding
guests. With measured and impressive step the groom approached the
bride. Tara felt the muscles of her heart contract with the apprehension
that had been growing upon her as the coils of Fate settled more closely
about her and no sign came from Turan. Where was he? What, indeed,
could he accomplish now to save her? Surrounded by the power of O-Tar
with never a friend among them, her position seemed at last without
vestige of hope.

{}``I still live!''\ she whispered inwardly in a last brave attempt
to combat the terrible hopelessness that was overwhelming her, but
her fingers stole for reassurance to the slim blade that she had managed
to transfer, undetected, from her old harness to the new. And now
the groom was at her side and taking her hand was leading her up the
steps to the throne, before which they halted and stood facing the
gathering below. Came then, from the back of the room a procession
headed by the high dignitary whose office it was to make these two
man and wife, and directly behind him a richly-clad youth bearing
a silken pillow on which lay the golden handcuffs connected by a short
length of chain-of-gold with which the ceremony would be concluded
when the dignitary clasped a handcuff about the wrist of each symbolizing
their indissoluble union in the holy bonds of wedlock.

Would Turan's promised succor come too late? Tara listened to the
long, monotonous intonation of the wedding service. She heard the
virtues of O-Tar extolled and the beauties of the bride. The moment
was approaching and still no sign of Turan. But what could he accomplish
should he succeed in reaching the throne room, other than to die with
her? There could be no hope of rescue.

The dignitary lifted the golden handcuffs from the pillow upon which
they reposed. He blessed them and reached for Tara's wrist. The time
had come! The thing could go no further, for alive or dead, by all
the laws of Barsoom she would be the wife of O-Tar of Manator the
instant the two were locked together. Even should rescue come then
or later she could never dissolve those bonds and Turan would be lost
to her as surely as though death separated them.

Her hand stole toward the hidden blade, but instantly the hand of
the groom shot out and seized her wrist. He had guessed her intention.
Through the slits in the grotesque mask she could see his eyes upon
her and she guessed the sardonic smile that the mask hid. For a tense
moment the two stood thus. The people below them kept breathless silence
for the play before the throne had not passed un-noticed.

Dramatic as was the moment it was suddenly rendered trebly so by the
noisy opening of the doors leading to The Hall of Chiefs. All eyes
turned in the direction of the interruption to see another figure
framed in the massive opening\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a half-clad
figure buckling the half-adjusted harness hurriedly in place\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]the
figure of O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator.

{}``Stop!''\ he screamed, springing forward along the aisle toward
the throne. {}``Seize the impostor!''

All eyes shot to the figure of the groom before the throne. They saw
him raise his hand and snatch off the golden mask, and Tara of Helium
in wide-eyed incredulity looked up into the face of Turan the panthan.

{}``Turan the slave,'' they cried then. {}``Death to him! Death
to him!''

{}``Wait!''\ shouted Turan, drawing his sword, as a dozen warriors
leaped forward.

{}``Wait!''\ screamed another voice, old and cracked, as I-Gos,
the ancient taxidermist, sprang from among the guests and reached
the throne steps ahead of the foremost warriors.

At sight of the old man the warriors paused, for age is held in great
veneration among the peoples of Barsoom, as is true, perhaps, of all
peoples whose religion is based to any extent upon ancestor worship.
But O-Tar gave no heed to him, leaping instead swiftly toward the
throne. {}``Stop, coward!''\ cried I-Gos.

The people looked at the little old man in amazement. {}``Men of
Manator,'' he cackled in his thin, shrill voice, {}``wouldst be
ruled by a coward and a liar?''

{}``Down with him!''\ shouted O-Tar.

{}``Not until I have spoken,'' retorted I-Gos. {}``It is my right.
If I fail my life is forfeit\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]that you all
know and I know. I demand therefore to be heard. It is my right!''

{}``It is his right,'' echoed the voices of a score of warriors
in various parts of the chamber.

{}``That O-Tar is a coward and a liar I can prove,'' continued I-Gos.
{}``He said that he faced bravely the horrors of the chamber of O-Mai
and saw nothing of the slave Turan. I was there, hiding behind the
hangings, and I saw all that transpired. Turan had been hiding in
the chamber and was even then lying upon the couch of O-Mai when O-Tar,
trembling with fear, entered the room. Turan, disturbed, arose to
a sitting position at the same time voicing a piercing shriek. O-Tar
screamed and swooned.''

{}``It is a lie!''\ cried O-Tar.

{}``It is not a lie and I can prove it,'' retorted I-Gos. {}``Didst
notice the night that he returned from the chambers of O-Mai and was
boasting of his exploit, that when he would summon slaves to bring
wine he reached for his dagger to strike the gong with its pommel
as is always his custom? Didst note that, any of you? And that he
had no dagger? O-Tar, where is the dagger that you carried into the
chamber of O-Mai? You do not know; but I know. While you lay in the
swoon of terror I took it from your harness and hid it among the sleeping
silks upon the couch of O-Mai. There it is even now, and if any doubt
it let them go thither and there they will find it and know the cowardice
of their jeddak.''

{}``But what of this impostor?''\ demanded one. {}``Shall he stand
with impunity upon the throne of Manator whilst we squabble about
our ruler?''

{}``It is through his bravery that you have learned the cowardice
of O-Tar,'' replied I-Gos, {}``and through him you will be given
a greater jeddak.''

{}``We will choose our own jeddak. Seize and slay the slave!''\ There
were cries of approval from all parts of the room. Gahan was listening
intently, as though for some hoped-for sound. He saw the warriors
approaching the dais, where he now stood with drawn sword and with
one arm about Tara of Helium. He wondered if his plans had miscarried
after all. If they had it would mean death for him, and he knew that
Tara would take her life if he fell. Had he, then, served her so futilely
after all his efforts?

Several warriors were urging the necessity for sending at once to
the chamber of O-Mai to search for the dagger that would prove, if
found, the cowardice of O-Tar. At last three consented to go. {}``You
need not fear,'' I-Gos assured them. {}``There is naught there to
harm you. I have been there often of late and Turan the slave has
slept there for these many nights. The screams and moans that frightened
you and O-Tar were voiced by Turan to drive you away from his hiding
place.'' Shamefacedly the three left the apartment to search for
O-Tar's dagger.

And now the others turned their attention once more to Gahan. They
approached the throne with bared swords, but they came slowly for
they had seen this slave upon the Field of Jetan and they knew the
prowess of his arm. They had reached the foot of the steps when from
far above there sounded a deep boom, and another, and another, and
Turan smiled and breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps, after all, it
had not come too late. The warriors stopped and listened as did the
others in the chamber. Now there broke upon their ears a loud rattle
of musketry and it all came from above as though men were fighting
upon the roofs of the palace.

{}``What is it?''\ they demanded, one of the other.

{}``A great storm has broken over Manator,'' said one.

{}``Mind not the storm until you have slain the creature who dares
stand upon the throne of your jeddak,'' demanded O-Tar. {}``Seize
him!''

Even as he ceased speaking the arras behind the throne parted and
a warrior stepped forth upon the dais. An exclamation of surprise
and dismay broke from the lips of the warriors of O-Tar. {}``U-Thor!''\ 
they cried. {}``What treason is this?''

{}``It is no treason,'' said U-Thor in his deep voice. {}``I bring
you a new jeddak for all of Manator. No lying poltroon, but a courageous
man whom you all love.''

He stepped aside then and another emerged from the corridor hidden
by the arras. It was A-Kor, and at sight of him there rose exclamations
of surprise, of pleasure, and of anger, as the various factions recognized
the \emph{coup d'etat} that had been arranged so cunningly. Behind
A-Kor came other warriors until the dais was crowded with them\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]all
men of Manator from the city of Manatos.

O-Tar was exhorting his warriors to attack, when a bloody and disheveled
padwar burst into the chamber through a side entrance. {}``The city
has fallen!''\ he cried aloud. {}``The hordes of Manatos pour through
The Gate of Enemies. The slaves from Gathol have arisen and destroyed
the palace guards. Great ships are landing warriors upon the palace
roof and in the Fields of Jetan. The men of Helium and Gathol are
marching through Manator. They cry aloud for the Princess of Helium
and swear to leave Manator a blazing funeral pyre consuming the bodies
of all our people. The skies are black with ships. They come in great
processions from the east and from the south.''

And then once more the doors from The Hall of Chiefs swung wide and
the men of Manator turned to see another figure standing upon the
threshold\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]a mighty figure of a man with white
skin, and black hair, and gray eyes that glittered now like points
of steel and behind him The Hall of Chiefs was filled with fighting
men wearing the harness of far countries. Tara of Helium saw him and
her heart leaped in exultation, for it was John Carter, Warlord of
Barsoom, come at the head of a victorious host to the rescue of his
daughter, and at his side was Djor Kantos to whom she had been betrothed.

The Warlord eyed the assemblage for a moment before he spoke. {}``Lay
down your arms, men of Manator,'' he said. {}``I see my daughter
and that she lives, and if no harm has befallen her no blood need
be shed. Your city is filled with the fighting men of U-Thor, and
those from Gathol and from Helium. The palace is in the hands of the
slaves from Gathol, beside a thousand of my own warriors who fill
the halls and chambers surrounding this room. The fate of your jeddak
lies in your own hands. I have no wish to interfere. I come only for
my daughter and to free the slaves from Gathol. I have spoken!''\ 
and without waiting for a reply and as though the room had been filled
with his own people rather than a hostile band he strode up the broad
main aisle toward Tara of Helium.

The chiefs of Manator were stunned. They looked to O-Tar; but he could
only gaze helplessly about him as the enemy entered from The Hall
of Chiefs and circled the throne room until they had surrounded the
entire company. And then a dwar of the army of Helium entered.

{}``We have captured three chiefs,'' he reported to The Warlord,
{}``who beg that they be permitted to enter the throne room and report
to their fellows some matter which they say will decide the fate of
Manator.''

{}``Fetch them,'' ordered The Warlord.

They came, heavily guarded, to the foot of the steps leading to the
throne and there they stopped and the leader turned toward the others
of Manator and raising high his right hand displayed a jeweled dagger.
{}``We found it,'' he said, {}``even where I-Gos said that we would
find it,'' and he looked menacingly upon O-Tar.

{}``A-Kor, jeddak of Manator!''\ cried a voice, and the cry was
taken up by a hundred hoarse-throated warriors.

{}``There can be but one jeddak in Manator,'' said the chief who
held the dagger; his eyes still fixed upon the hapless O-Tar he crossed
to where the latter stood and holding the dagger upon an outstretched
palm proffered it to the discredited ruler. {}``There can be but
one jeddak in Manator,'' he repeated meaningly.

O-Tar took the proffered blade and drawing himself to his full height
plunged it to the guard into his breast, in that single act redeeming
himself in the esteem of his people and winning an eternal place in
The Hall of Chiefs.

As he fell all was silence in the great room, to be broken presently
by the voice of U-Thor. {}``O-Tar is dead!''\ he cried. {}``Let
A-Kor rule until the chiefs of all Manator may be summoned to choose
a new jeddak. What is your answer?''

{}``Let A-Kor rule! A-Kor, Jeddak of Manator!''\ The cries filled
the room and there was no dissenting voice.

A-Kor raised his sword for silence. {}``It is the will of A-Kor,''
he said, {}``and that of the Great Jed of Manatos, and the commander
of the fleet from Gathol, and of the illustrious John Carter, Warlord
of Barsoom, that peace lie upon the city of Manator and so I decree
that the men of Manator go forth and welcome the fighting men of these
our allies as guests and friends and show them the wonders of our
ancient city and the hospitality of Manator. I have spoken.'' And
U-Thor and John Carter dismissed their warriors and bade them accept
the hospitality of Manator. As the room emptied Djor Kantos reached
the side of Tara of Helium. The girl's happiness at rescue had been
blighted by sight of this man whom her virtuous heart told her she
had wronged. She dreaded the ordeal that lay before her and the dishonor
that she must admit before she could hope to be freed from the understanding
that had for long existed between them. And now Djor Kantos approached
and kneeling raised her fingers to his lips.

{}``Beautiful daughter of Helium,'' he said, {}``how may I tell
you the thing that I must tell you\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]of the
dishonor that I have all unwittingly done you? I can but throw myself
upon your generosity for forgiveness; but if you demand it I can receive
the dagger as honorably as did O-Tar.''

{}``What do you mean?''\ asked Tara of Helium. {}``What are you
talking about\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]why speak thus in riddles to
one whose heart is already breaking?''

Her heart already breaking! The outlook was anything but promising,
and the young padwar wished that he had died before ever he had had
to speak the words he now must speak.

{}``Tara of Helium,'' he continued, {}``we all thought you dead.
For a long year have you been gone from Helium. I mourned you truly
and then, less than a moon since, I wed with Olvia Marthis.'' He
stopped and looked at her with eyes that might have said: {}``Now,
strike me dead!''

{}``Oh, foolish man!''\ cried Tara. {}``Nothing you could have
done could have pleased me more. Djor Kantos, I could kiss you!''

{}``I do not think that Olvia Marthis would mind,'' he said, his
face now wreathed with smiles. As they spoke a body of men had entered
the throne room and approached the dais. They were tall men trapped
in plain harness, absolutely without ornamentation. Just as their
leader reached the dais Tara had turned to Gahan, motioning him to
join them.

{}``Djor Kantos,'' she said, {}``I bring you Turan the panthan,
whose loyalty and bravery have won my love.''

John Carter and the leader of the new come warriors, who were standing
near, looked quickly at the little group. The former smiled an inscrutable
smile, the latter addressed the Princess of Helium.\ {}{}```Turan
the panthan!''' he cried. {}``Know you not, fair daughter of Helium,
that this man you call panthan is Gahan, Jed of Gathol?''

For just a moment Tara of Helium looked her surprise; and then she
shrugged her beautiful shoulders as she turned her head to cast her
eyes over one of them at Gahan of Gathol.

{}``Jed or panthan,'' she said; {}``what difference does it make
what one's slave has been?''\ and she laughed roguishly into the
smiling face of her lover.

\bigskip{}
His story finished, John Carter rose from the chair opposite me, stretching
his giant frame like some great forest-bred lion.

{}``You must go?''\ I cried, for I hated to see him leave and it
seemed that he had been with me but a moment.

{}``The sky is already red beyond those beautiful hills of yours,''
he replied, {}``and it will soon be day.''

{}``Just one question before you go,'' I begged.

{}``Well?''\ he assented, good-naturedly.

{}``How was Gahan able to enter the throne room garbed in O-Tar's
trappings?''\ I asked.

{}``It was simple\mbox{---}\linebreak[1]for Gahan of Gathol,''
replied The Warlord. {}``With the assistance of I-Gos he crept into
The Hall of Chiefs before the ceremony, while the throne room and
Hall of Chiefs were vacated to receive the bride. He came from the
pits through the corridor that opened behind the arras at the rear
of the throne, and passing into The Hall of Chiefs took his place
upon the back of a riderless thoat, whose warrior was in I-Gos' repair
room. When O-Tar entered and came near him Gahan fell upon him and
struck him with the butt of a heavy spear. He thought that he had
killed him and was surprised when O-Tar appeared to denounce him.''

{}``And Ghek? What became of Ghek?''\ I insisted.

{}``After leading Val Dor and Floran to Tara's disabled flier which
they repaired, he accompanied them to Gathol from where a message
was sent to me in Helium. He then led a large party including A-Kor
and U-Thor from the roof, where our ships landed them, down a spiral
runway into the palace and guided them to the throne room. We took
him back to Helium with us, where he still lives, with his single
rykor which we found all but starved to death in the pits of Manator.
But come! No more questions now.''

I accompanied him to the east arcade where the red dawn was glowing
beyond the arches.

{}``Good-bye!''\ he said.

{}``I can scarce believe that it is really you,'' I exclaimed. {}``Tomorrow
I will be sure that I have dreamed all this.''

He laughed and drawing his sword scratched a rude cross upon the concrete
of one of the arches.

{}``If you are in doubt tomorrow,'' he said, {}``come and see if
you dreamed this.''

A moment later he was gone.


\chapter*{\raggedright JETAN, OR MARTIAN CHESS}

\addcontentsline{toc}{chapter}{JETAN, OR MARTIAN CHESS}

\markboth{THE CHESSMEN OF MARS}{JETAN, OR MARTIAN CHESS}

\textit{\emph{For}} those who care for such things, and would like
to try the game, I give the rules of Jetan as they were given me by
John Carter. By writing the names and moves of the various pieces
on bits of paper and pasting them on ordinary checkermen the game
may be played quite as well as with the ornate pieces used upon Mars.

\noun{The Board}: Square board consisting of one hundred alternate
black and orange squares.

\noun{The Pieces}: In order, as they stand upon the board in the
first row, from left to right of each player:

\begin{lyxlist}{00.00.0000}
\item [\emph{Warrior}:]2 feathers; 2 spaces straight in any direction or
combination. 
\item [\emph{Padwar}:]2 feathers; 2 spaces diagonal in any direction or
combination. 
\item [\emph{Dwar}:]3 feathers; 3 spaces straight in any direction or combination. 
\item [\emph{Flier}:]3 bladed propellor; 3 spaces diagonal in any direction
or combination; and may jump intervening pieces. 
\item [\emph{Chief}:]Diadem with ten jewels; 3 spaces in any direction;
straight or diagonal or combination. 
\item [\emph{Princess}:]Diadem with one jewel; same as Chief, except may
jump intervening pieces. 
\item [\emph{Flier}:]See above. 
\item [\emph{Dwar}:]See above. 
\item [\emph{Padwar}:]See above. 
\item [\emph{Warrior}:]See above. 
\end{lyxlist}
And in the second row from left to right:

\begin{lyxlist}{00.00.0000}
\item [\emph{Thoat}:]Mounted warrior 2 feathers; 2 spaces, one straight
and one diagonal in any direction. 
\item [\emph{Panthans}:](8 of them): 1 feather; 1 space, forward, side,
or diagonal, but not backward. 
\item [\emph{Thoat}:]See above. 
\end{lyxlist}
{}

The game is played with twenty black pieces by one player and twenty
orange by his opponent, and is presumed to have originally represented
a battle between the Black race of the south and the Yellow race of
the north. On Mars the board is usually arranged so that the Black
pieces are played from the south and the Orange from the north.

The game is won when any piece is placed on same square with opponent's
Princess, or a Chief takes a Chief.

The game is drawn when either Chief is taken by a piece other than
the opposing Chief, or when both sides are reduced to three pieces,
or less, of equal value and the game is not won in the ensuing ten
moves, five apiece.

The Princess may not move onto a threatened square, nor may she take
an opposing piece. She is entitled to one ten-space move at any time
during the game. This move is called the escape.

Two pieces may not occupy the same square except in the final move
of a game where the Princess is taken.

When a player, moving properly and in order, places one of his pieces
upon a square occupied by an opponent piece, the opponent piece is
considered to have been killed and is removed from the game.

\noun{The Moves Explained}: Straight moves mean due north, south,
east, or west; diagonal moves mean northeast, southeast, southwest,
or northwest. A Dwar might move straight north three spaces, or north
one space and east two spaces, or any similar combination of straight
moves, so long as he did not cross the same square twice in a single
move. This example explains combination moves.

The first move may be decided in any way that is agreeable to both
players; after the first game the winner of the preceding game moves
first if he chooses, or may instruct his opponent to make the first
move.

\noun{Gambling}: The Martians gamble at Jetan in several ways. Of
course the outcome of the game indicates to whom the main stake belongs;
but they also put a price upon the head of each piece, according to
its value, and for each piece that a player loses he pays its value
to his opponent. 
\end{document}
