Worlds of Edgar Rice Burroughs (12 page)

This was not to be, however, for my blade seemed only to enrage the thing. It pulled all the harder, and I was drawn farther and farther into the depths of the hidden sea. There were hands all around my legs now, so many that I felt certain that more than one of the creatures was attacking me. My lungs were bursting, and I knew that I had but a few seconds of life left in me if I could not escape its clutches and return to the surface for air.

I had not stopped slashing and hewing with my sword, and I suddenly felt it swish cleanly through the water as I severed one of the thing’s hands. This seemed to infuriate it, for it now brought its great fangs into play. Despite the pain, it was with a sense of relief that I became aware of two powerful jaws closing about my leg. Here at last was a target which might prove fatal!

Using the flat of my blade, I glided my sword swiftly over the scaly face until I came to a bulging protrusion. This, I knew, must be an eye, perhaps the only one. Immediately I ran my point through it.

The creature, trembling with pain, lessened its grip on my leg. Then, drawing my shortsword, I began stabbing, a sword in each hand, at where I thought the jugular vein must be. It released my leg with all but one of its hands and began writhing in agony. In another second I had decapitated it, and yet that hand hung grimly on, and I was like to have been torn apart by the headless body’s convulsions.

Working furiously, I severed the hand and, keeping clear of the thrashing body, rose rapidly to the surface. Gasping and panting, I examined my leg and found it to be only superficially wounded. I was about to resume my journey when I saw a ripple, and then another, converging upon me. Mustering every remaining ounce of strength within my exhausted body, I swam as fast as I could toward the city, knowing all the while that I could never hope to escape these sea-things in their own element. It was only a matter of time before they reached me, and, once caught, I knew that I could never survive another underwater battle such as I had just undergone.

Then, just as I was drawing my sword, preparing to do as much damage as possible before my death, the creatures went right past me, one of them brushing my hip as he passed. Turning, I saw the ripples disappear over the spot where I had just killed their brother of the deep. Soon afterward bits of torn flesh came floating up to the surface, and I realized that they had not come to the aid of their fellow but to feast upon his remains.

Hastening away, I headed once more toward the city, keeping away from any part of the sea surface which was not completely still and placid.

This course of action worked effectively, and I was soon close enough to observe the layout of the city. It seemed to be built primarily about one gigantic palace. In fact, except for a small group of barracks, the palace
was
the city.

There was a large number of soldiers on and about the shore, all wearing the metal of Hin Abtol. I concluded that they must have banded together after the war, although for what purpose I could not even hazard a guess, nor could I see any advantage in locating themselves in this hidden world.

There were piers emanating from the beach, and upon these I beheld many men in plain harnesses and armed with longswords, sitting and fishing. Now and again a warrior would approach them with a command to move elsewhere, or would demand to see what they had so far managed to catch, and I assumed that the fishermen were either slaves or captives.

I knew that were I discovered I could never pass for one of the warriors, and so I removed all my weapons save for my longsword, hoping to pass for a prisoner should I be discovered. I didn’t like the idea of shrinking from encounters, but there was Tan Hadron to be considered, and so, with a feeling of regret, I released my shortsword, dagger, and radium pistol and let them sink, one by one, into oblivion.

A strategy was now called for. Should I attempt to gain the island unseen, as had been my original idea? Discovery would mean certain death, and the great number of warriors on the shore pointed toward discovery. If I remained in the water I would be prey to the creatures who haunted the depths of this lost sea, and waiting would serve no purpose, for in this sunless world waiting for nightfall was meaningless; the city would remain as bright as it was, regardless of time. My only alternative was to reach the piers and pose as one of the fishermen until I could gain access to the city. I didn’t like the thought of putting myself in their power, but it afforded me the greatest chance of success.

This decided upon, I drew as near the shore as I dared, and then, filling my lungs with air, I dove down and made my way to the piers with long, powerful strokes. When I surfaced I was within twenty feet of them, but just as I was congratulating myself on the ease with which I was accomplishing the first step of my mission, I felt a large, slimy body begin to coil itself about me.

I uttered an involuntary shout of pain and surprise, and all secrecy was lost. Now there was naught to do but defend myself as best I could.

This sea-thing proved far easier to dispatch than the other had. Barely had its snakelike body encircled me than its reptilian head rose above the surface of the water and, eyeing me with a cold, cruel gaze, it opened its mouth, revealing four rows of needlelike fangs, and lunged for my face. Grabbing it just behind the head, I drew my sword with my free hand and quickly severed the thing’s neck.

An officer came to the edge of the pier and helped me pull my weary body out of the water, He was a young, frank-looking fellow, and his expression bespoke honor and courage.

“What were you doing?” he asked in a firm manner. “Trying to escape?”

“Credit me with the intelligence to know that there is no escape from Ayathor,” I replied.

“Then what were you doing?” he repeated,

“I fell into the sea off yonder pier,” I said, indicating a pier which I hoped was out of his jurisdiction, “and had just about reached the shore when that thing attacked me.”

“Hardly a likely explanation.” commented an evil-looking officer who had just approached.

“Who is the dwar of this pier, Talon Gar?” said the one who had aided me. “You may be the Jeddak’s favorite, but when a man is on my pier I will decide what is to be done.”

“Bal Daxus, you may yet overstep yourself,” snapped Talon Gar. Then he fell silent, eyeing me suspiciously.

“Now, prisoner,” said Bal Daxus, turning to me, “what is your name?”

“Dotar Sojat,” I replied, giving him my well-worn alias, which I had derived from the surnames of the first two Tharkian chieftans I had killed upon my advent on Barsoom,

“Dotar Sojat, eh?” said Bal Daxus. “The name is unfamiliar.”

“Nor have I ever set eyes on Bal Daxus and Talon Gar before just now,” I replied blandly.

“We have ways of curing insolent slaves!” said Talon Gar, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

“You may consider yourself free to try and impress your ways on me,” I answered with a contemptuous smile.

He whipped out his sword, but Bal Daxus stepped between us. “Any discipline Dotar Sojat receives will not come from Talon Gar,” he said, and his tone made the officer sheathe his weapon. “That was a most courageous battle you just waged,” he continued, ignoring Talon Gar completely. “Are you badly hurt?”

“No,” I replied. “But I am rather tired. Do you suppose I might return to my quarters for a spell?” I saw here the opportunity to gain the city with his permission, and I was careful to avoid any definite mention of time, for how was I to know how time was measured in this hidden world?

“Surely,” answered Bal Daxus. Taking a towel from one of his warriors, he handed it to me. As I dried myself off, I thought I saw a look of surprise and cunning on Talon Gar’s face, but I wrote it off to imagination and overwrought nerves. I had just handed the towel back to Bal Daxus, wondering what to do next, when he provided me with my answer.

“Come, Dotar Sojat,” he said, walking off. “I’ll escort you to your quarters myself. I could do no less for such a warrior.”

As we approached the great palace, I noticed the designs on the walls. They depicted the race of bearded yellow men carrying out the various functions of their daily lives. The palace, then, must have been built ages ago, long before the yellow race discovered that they could live on the surface of the frozen north by enclosing their cities in plastic domes. They had probably left Ayathor when the domes were perfected, and it had been forgotten for eons, until that day I had broken the dome of Pankor while carrying Llana of Gathol to freedom in my flier. The Panars had probably heard of this legendary world from the Okarians, and when the necessity arose they had sought it out and populated it.

Bal Daxus gave a signal at the gate of the palace, and the massive door swung slowly inward. As we entered, he turned sharply to the right and approached a nearby barracks, stopping when we reached the door. I noticed that Talon Gar was following us at a distance of forty or fifty feet.

“Well?” demanded Bal Daxus. “Have you forgotten the rule?”

“What?” I asked hazily. “Oh, yes . . . the rule.” What might it be?

“Don’t just stand there, then,” he said. “Give me your sword. There aren’t any targaths around here.”

I liked this not, but there was nothing to do but hand him my one remaining weapon. Evidently some beast called a targath was apt to attack anyone who went outside the palace, which explained why the prisoners were armed. As for returning the swords, that was only logical, for while I could not escape, I was still an enemy.

As soon as I entered I sensed that something was amiss, for there were fully fifty men in the room, and all of them were armed!

“Warriors!” said Bal Daxus sternly. “Do you recognize this man?”

“The Warlord!” screamed fifty voices in unison, and fifty swords were menacing me in an instant.

“Think you, John Carter,” sneered Talon Gar, “that you can so easily outwit the forces of Hin Abtol?”

I must have looked my puzzlement, for Bal Daxus produced the towel with which I had dried myself. It was covered with reddish copper stains.

Guessing the truth, I looked down at my body. Not a trace of my red pigment remained!

“To the Pits!”

“Now,” said Bal Daxus calmly, “you may submit peaceably, or you may prepare to meet your ancestors. It is your choice.”

There seemed nothing to do but submit, for dead I could be of no avail to anyone, while alive there was still a chance that I could find some means of escaping and succoring Tan Hadron. Thus it was that John Carter, Prince of Helium, Warlord of Barsoom, surrendered without striking a blow in his defense.

My hands were bound behind my back, and when the job was done, Talon Gar confronted me.

“John Carter,” he said, “long have I awaited the day when the Warlord of Barsoom should fall into our hands.”

“You had best make the most of your opportunity,” I replied, “while Chance so favors you, for when Helium finds out that—”

“Helium?” he interrupted with a sneer. “Helium is doomed!”

“Others have said that before, Talon Gar, and they were all better men than you, yet Helium still stands.”

He could scarce restrain his rage; finally a maniacal smile contorted his cruel features and he struck me heavily on the face.

“A most noble gesture,” I said. “Bal Daxus, if you will release my bonds that I might engage the courageous Talon Gar, I’ll fight him with any weapon of his choosing. I give you my word as a man of honor that I will put myself back into your custody immediately afterward.”

“And if you lose?” asked Bal Daxus.

“I shall not lose.”

“It seems like a just proposition, for surely no man could tolerate the abuse you have just undergone without demanding satisfaction. What says Talon Gar?”

Talon Gar blanched beneath his copper-red skin. “I would not dignify him by crossing swords with him,” he said lamely.

“But you dignify your rank as an officer by striking helpless men?” I asked tauntingly.

He looked as if he would smite me again, but Bal Daxus intervened. “It now remains only to imprison you,” he told me, “until the Jeddak desires your presence.”

“Yes,” put in Talon Gar. “To the Pits!”

With that we set off and were soon in a maze of descending corridors. I began limping, and Bal Daxus immediately noticed the cuts on my leg. “What happened to you?” he asked. “Surely no snake could have done that!”

“No,” I said. “It was another creature.” I saw no need to tell him any more than that, as I wanted the location of my flier to remain unknown. “They’re merely flesh wounds,” I added. “They’ll heal soon enough.”

“You won’t be alive to know about it,” said Talon Gar.

As we walked on, I asked Bal Daxus what kinds of animals inhabited the sunken world.

“We found nothing but ulsios and targaths when we came here,” he replied, “but the Jeddak has since brought in some banths.”

The ulsio is the Martian rat, of about the size and ferocity of a cougar, and the banth is the eight-legged lion of Barsoom, but the targath I did not know, and I questioned him further.

“It is rather hard to describe,” said Bal Daxus. “Besides, I fear you’ll find out soon enough, although I daresay the knowledge will do you little good.”