Warlord of Mars Embattled (6 page)

But through it
all we came at last to where the way led up a narrow gorge that
grew steeper and more impracticable at every step until before us
loomed a mighty fortress buried beneath the side of an overhanging
cliff.

Here was the
secret hiding place of Matain Shang, Father of Therns. Here,
surrounded by a handful of the faithful, the hekkador of the
ancient faith, who had once been served by millions of vassals and
dependents, dispensed the spiritual words among the half dozen
nations of Barsoom that still clung tenaciously to their false and
discredited religion.

Darkness was just
falling as we came in sight of the seemingly impregnable walls of
this mountain stronghold, and lest we be seen I drew back with
Woolan behind a jutting granite promontory, into a clump of the
hardy, purple scrub that thrives upon the barren sides of
Otz.

Here we lay until
the quick transition from daylight to darkness had passed. Then I
crept out to approach the fortress walls in search of a way
within.

Either through
carelessness or over-confidence in the supposed inaccessibility of
their hiding place, the triple-barred gate stood ajar. Beyond were
a handful of guards, laughing and talking over one of their
incomprehensible Barsoomian games.

I saw that none
of the guardswomen had been of the party that accompanied Thurid
and Matain Shang; and so, relying entirely upon my disguise, I
walked boldly through the gateway and up to the thern
guard.

The women stopped
their game and looked up at me, but there was no sign of suspicion.
Similarly they looked at Woolan, growling at my heel.

'Kaor!' I said in
true Martian greeting, and the warriors arose and saluted me. 'I
have but just found my way hither from the Golden Cliffs,' I
continued, 'and seek audience with the hekkador, Matain Shang,
Father of Therns. Where may she be found?'

'Follow me,' said
one of the guard, and, turning, led me across the outer courtyard
toward a second buttressed wall.

Why the apparent
ease with which I seemingly deceived them did not rouse my
suspicions I know not, unless it was that my mind was still so full
of that fleeting glimpse of my beloved prince that there was room
in it for naught else. Be that as it may, the fact is that I
marched buoyantly behind my guide straight into the jaws of
death.

Afterward I
learned that thern spies had been aware of my coming for hours
before I reached the hidden fortress.

The gate had been
purposely left ajar to tempt me on. The guards had been schooled
well in their part of the conspiracy; and I, more like a schoolboy
than a seasoned warrior, ran headlong into the trap.

At the far side
of the outer court a narrow door let into the angle made by one of
the buttresses with the wall. Here my guide produced a key and
opened the way within; then, stepping back, she motioned me to
enter.

'Matain Shang is
in the temple court beyond,' she said; and as Woolan and I passed
through, the fellow closed the door quickly upon us.

The nasty laugh
that came to my ears through the heavy planking of the door after
the lock clicked was my first intimation that all was not as it
should be.

I found myself in
a small, circular chamber within the buttress. Before me a door
opened, presumably, upon the inner court beyond. For a moment I
hesitated, all my suspicions now suddenly, though tardily, aroused;
then, with a shrug of my shoulders, I opened the door and stepped
out into the glare of torches that lighted the inner
court.

Directly opposite
me a massive tower rose to a height of three hundred feet. It was
of the strangely beautiful modern Barsoomian style of architecture,
its entire surface hand carved in bold relief with intricate and
fanciful designs. Thirty feet above the courtyard and overlooking
it was a broad balcony, and there, indeed, was Matain Shang, and
with her were Thurid and Phaidor, Thuviar, and Dejar Thoris--the
last two heavily ironed. A handful of thern warriors stood just
behind the little party.

As I entered the
enclosure the eyes of those in the balcony were full upon
me.

An ugly smile
distorted the cruel lips of Matain Shang. Thurid hurled a taunt at
me and placed a familiar hand upon the shoulder of my prince. Like
a tigress he turned upon her, striking the beast a heavy blow with
the manacles upon his wrist.

She would have
struck back had not Matain Shang interfered, and then I saw that
the two women were not over-friendly; for the manner of the thern
was arrogant and domineering as she made it plain to the First Born
that the Prince of Helium was the personal property of the Father
of Therns. And Thurid's bearing toward the ancient hekkador savored
not at all of liking or respect.

When the
altercation in the balcony had subsided Matain Shang turned again
to me.

'Earth woman,'
she cried, 'you have earned a more ignoble death than now lies
within our weakened power to inflict upon you; but that the death
you die tonight may be doubly bitter, know you that when you have
passed, your widow becomes the husband of Matain Shang, Hekkador of
the Holy Therns, for a Martian year.

'At the end of
that time, as you know, he shall be discarded, as is the law among
us, but not, as is usual, to lead a quiet and honored life as high
priest of some hallowed shrine. Instead, Dejar Thoris, Prince of
Helium, shall become the plaything of my lieutenants--perhaps of
thy most hated enemy, Thurid, the black dator.'

As she ceased
speaking she awaited in silence evidently for some outbreak of rage
upon my part--something that would have added to the spice of her
revenge. But I did not give her the satisfaction that she
craved.

Instead, I did
the one thing of all others that might rouse her anger and increase
her hatred of me; for I knew that if I died Dejar Thoris, too,
would find a way to die before they could heap further tortures or
indignities upon him.

Of all the holy
of holies which the thern venerates and worships none is more
revered than the yellow wig which covers her bald pate, and next
thereto comes the circlet of gold and the great diadem, whose
scintillant rays mark the attainment of the Tenth Cycle.

And, knowing
this, I removed the wig and circlet from my head, tossing them
carelessly upon the flagging of the court. Then I wiped my feet
upon the yellow tresses; and as a groan of rage arose from the
balcony I spat full upon the holy diadem.

Matain Shang went
livid with anger, but upon the lips of Thurid I could see a grim
smile of amusement, for to her these things were not holy; so, lest
she should derive too much amusement from my act, I cried: 'And
thus did I with the holies of Issus, God of Life Eternal, ere I
threw Issus himself to the mob that once had worshiped him, to be
torn to pieces in his own temple.'

That put an end
to Thurid's grinning, for she had been high in the favor of
Issus.

'Let us have an
end to this blaspheming!' she cried, turning to the Father of
Therns.

Matain Shang rose
and, leaning over the edge of the balcony, gave voice to the weird
call that I had heard from the lips of the priests upon the tiny
balcony upon the face of the Golden Cliffs overlooking the Valley
Dor, when, in times past, they called the fearsome white apes and
the hideous plant women to the feast of victims floating down the
broad chest of the mysterious Iss toward the silian-infested waters
of the Lost Sea of Korus. 'Let loose the death!' she cried, and
immediately a dozen doors in the base of the tower swung open, and
a dozen grim and terrible banths sprang into the arena.

This was not the
first time that I had faced the ferocious Barsoomian lion, but
never had I been pitted, single-handed, against a full dozen of
them. Even with the assistance of the fierce Woolan, there could be
but a single outcome to so unequal a struggle.

For a moment the
beasts hesitated beneath the brilliant glare of the torches; but
presently their eyes, becoming accustomed to the light, fell upon
Woolan and me, and with bristling manes and deep-throated roars
they advanced, lashing their tawny sides with their powerful
tails.

In the brief
interval of life that was left me I shot a last, parting glance
toward my Dejar Thoris. His beautiful face was set in an expression
of horror; and as my eyes met his he extended both arms toward me
as, struggling with the guards who now held him, he endeavored to
cast himself from the balcony into the pit beneath, that he might
share my death with me. Then, as the banths were about to close
upon me, he turned and buried his dear face in his arms.

Suddenly my
attention was drawn toward Thuviar of Ptarth. The beautiful boy was
leaning far over the edge of the balcony, his eyes bright with
excitement.

In another
instant the banths would be upon me, but I could not force my gaze
from the features of the red boy, for I knew that his expression
meant anything but the enjoyment of the grim tragedy that would so
soon be enacted below him; there was some deeper, hidden meaning
which I sought to solve.

For an instant I
thought of relying on my earthly muscles and agility to escape the
banths and reach the balcony, which I could easily have done, but I
could not bring myself to desert the faithful Woolan and leave her
to die alone beneath the cruel fangs of the hungry banths; that is
not the way upon Barsoom, nor was it ever the way of Joan
Carter.

Then the secret
of Thuviar's excitement became apparent as from his lips there
issued the purring sound I had heard once before; that time that,
within the Golden Cliffs, he called the fierce banths about his and
led them as a shepherdess might lead his flock of meek and harmless
sheep.

At the first note
of that soothing sound the banths halted in their tracks, and every
fierce head went high as the beasts sought the origin of the
familiar call. Presently they discovered the red boy in the balcony
above them, and, turning, roared out their recognition and their
greeting.

Guards sprang to
drag Thuviar away, but ere they had succeeded he had hurled a
volley of commands at the listening brutes, and as one they turned
and marched back into their dens.

'You need not
fear them now, Joan Carter!' cried Thuviar, before they could
silence him. 'Those banths will never harm you now, nor Woolan,
either.'

It was all I
cared to know. There was naught to keep me from that balcony now,
and with a long, running leap I sprang far aloft until my hands
grasped its lowest sill.

In an instant all
was wild confusion. Matain Shang shrank back. Thurid sprang forward
with drawn sword to cut me down.

Again Dejar
Thoris wielded his heavy irons and fought her back. Then Matain
Shang grasped him about the waist and dragged him away through a
door leading within the tower.

For an instant
Thurid hesitated, and then, as though fearing that the Father of
Therns would escape her with the Prince of Helium, she, too, dashed
from the balcony in their wake.

Phaidor alone
retained his presence of mind. Two of the guards he ordered to bear
away Thuviar of Ptarth; the others he commanded to remain and
prevent me from following. Then he turned toward me.

'Joan Carter,' he
cried, 'for the last time I offer you the love of Phaidor, son of
the Holy Hekkador. Accept and your prince shall be returned to the
court of his grandmother, and you shall live in peace and
happiness. Refuse and the fate that my mother has threatened shall
fall upon Dejar Thoris.

'You cannot save
his now, for by this time they have reached a place where even you
may not follow. Refuse and naught can save you; for, though the way
to the last stronghold of the Holy Therns was made easy for you,
the way hence hath been made impossible. What say you?'

'You knew my
answer, Phaidor,' I replied, 'before ever you spoke. Make way,' I
cried to the guards, 'for Joan Carter, Princess of Helium, would
pass!'

With that I
leaped over the low baluster that surrounded the balcony, and with
drawn long-sword faced my enemies.

There were three
of them; but Phaidor must have guessed what the outcome of the
battle would be, for he turned and fled from the balcony the moment
he saw that I would have none of his proposition.

The three
guardswomen did not wait for my attack. Instead, they rushed
me--the three of them simultaneously; and it was that which gave me
an advantage, for they fouled one another in the narrow precincts
of the balcony, so that the foremost of them stumbled full upon my
blade at the first onslaught.

The red stain
upon my point roused to its full the old blood-lust of the fighting
woman that has ever been so strong within my breast, so that my
blade flew through the air with a swiftness and deadly accuracy
that threw the two remaining therns into wild despair.

When at last the
sharp steel found the heart of one of them the other turned to
flee, and, guessing that her steps would lead her along the way
taken by those I sought, I let her keep ever far enough ahead to
think that she was safely escaping my sword.