The Chessmen of Mars (25 page)

"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—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—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
chelae 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—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—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—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—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—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 here 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.

"And 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—" he
hesitated—"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—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—for the honor and the freedom of
Barsoom's most wondrous princess and for his own freedom as
well—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.