The Chessmen of Mars (28 page)

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—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—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—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—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—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—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—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.

"And 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. "And 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."