Worlds of Edgar Rice Burroughs (15 page)

So this was the much-heralded Chamber of Madness! It was almost a disappointment after the buildup Hin Abtol had given it. Evidently I was to be left alone here to die of hunger and thirst. I smiled as I thought of how infinitely more pleasant this room was than the Pits. Here, at least, I had freedom of movement and had no doubts that, armed as I was with my longsword, I would emerge victorious from any threat to my life which arose.

But nothing arose. It seemed to me that I had been in the room for eons, for I had not seen a single sign of life or movement since I regained consciousness. I hacked at one of the doors with my sword for hours, but to no avail. The doors seem to be petrified, and my efforts succeeded only in removing a few splinters.

Having nothing better to do, I lay down on the floor, hoping that a little sleep would freshen my senses and also my morale, for although the room was not what I had been led to expect, it was still sufficient to keep me entrapped until I should eventually expire from lack of food.

The moment I laid my head upon the floor, a blinding light flashed across my eyes. It was immediately extinguished as I jumped up and drew my sword, and though I again searched every inch of the room, I could find no trace of the light’s location.

This happened a number of times. Every time I was about to drift off to sleep that powerful beam of light hit my eyes regardless of the direction I was facing, and always it was gone before I could overcome my temporary blindness.

Finally, in desperation, I took a leather thong from my harness and bound it around my eyes. There was no light this time, but instead an amplified sound of metal grating against metal. It was infuriating. Every time I attempted to sleep, I was brought back to my senses. Seeing at last the utter hopelessness of trying to stave off the light and the noise, I went back to the door and once more began chopping away at it with my sword.

I had been working on the door for what must have been an hour or so when I began sweating profusely. I sat down to relax and cool off a bit, making a mental note not to overtax my strength in the future, as I knew not when I’d need every ounce of it to escape. However, after I had been sitting for a while, I became still warmer.

It was then that I realized that the temperature of the room had increased greatly, and it shortly became so hot that I was forced to shed my harness. My throat was dry and parched and cried out for water, and even as I was wondering how I might lessen my thirst, my eyes fell upon a small bowl of clear liquid which was sitting on the floor directly across from the door I had been working on. Evidently one of my tormentors had quickly opened the door and placed the bowl there while my back was turned.

I walked over to it, and lifted the liquid to my nose. There was no odor, and the container was refreshingly cool. Without further hesitation, I took a long swallow.

Immediately my throat felt as if it were on fire, and I began choking. The liquid tasted something like vinegar, and as I tried to ease my discomfort I heard a hollow laugh ring out.

When I had recovered, I put my fingers in the bowl, the remaining fluid didn’t burn or smart, and, as the room was becoming
increasingly hotter, I gratefully
poured the cool liquid over my body.

Then, of a sudden, the room began to cool with surprising swiftness. I guessed what was coming and slipped back into my harness. Sure enough, I was able to see my breath in another few minutes, and I huddled my shivering body close to the wall.

This changing of temperatures was kept up for many cycles before the room finally went back to normal. I collapsed on the floor, my strength sapped by the varying conditions my body had been forced to adapt to. Then the light and the grating noise were brought back into play, and, wearily, I walked to a wall and leaned against it, hoping the noise would be lessened if I remained against the side of the room.

I felt my head nodding as I began to fall asleep once more, and, deciding that the noise would, in the long run, prove the lesser of the two evils, I once again strapped the leather thong about my eyes.

This time nothing happened, and I had just drifted off to a sleep of nervous exhaustion when a thin voice spoke out.

“Unbind your eyes, John Carter,” it bade me. “You shall not be blinded.”

Mad with rage and frustration at being awakened, I untied the strap and found myself facing a huge banth. It was standing not ten feet away, and as its eyes met mine it roared horribly and leapt for me.

There was no time to draw my sword; my only chance was to leap across the room with the aid of my powerful Earthly muscles, which I did not a second too soon. The banth bounded after me, but came to a sudden halt when he was almost halfway across the room. I noticed then that he was chained, and that his iron leash ran back through an open doorway. Here was the chance I had hoped for, for once I slew the banth, there was no man on Barsoom who could keep me from that door.

“Well, Hin Abtol,” I muttered under my breath, “I have taken your worst, and you have failed. You should have known better than to think a banth could slay me when I am armed.”

Eyeing the beast, my hand dropped confidently to the hilt of my sword, but ere I had drawn it from its sheath another banth charged out from the door behind me.

Sidestepping him, I moved to the center of the room. Neither animal could quite reach me there, and as I was sizing up the two to determine which would be the easier to dispatch, a third banth entered, and then a fourth, until finally I was surrounded by a full dozen of them. The chamber was about eighty feet in diameter, and each banth had a range of a foot less than the radius. In other words, I had barely enough room to turn around while keeping out of their reach.

Looking down at the floor, I noticed that I was standing within the small, painted circle, and I now realized its purpose. It was two feet across, and I was safe only within its confines.

I tried to draw my sword, but a taloned paw reached out viciously and left three red stripes on my arm. Now my fears were confirmed: I had not the room to unsheathe my blade.

For many minutes I remained there, trying to figure a way out of my predicament. I was acutely aware of the hot breath being showered upon my body, and of the hideous roars of hunger and frustration.

Looking upward, I saw once again the crossbeams of sorapus wood, but none were directly overhead. In the lesser gravity of Mars I could reach a height of twenty feet, but the prospect of doing so now was a dim one, for in gathering myself for the leap I would surely extend one or both of my arms outside of my circle of survival.

Yet the thought of jumping intrigued me, and I rapidly pored over its possibilities. The one that seemed to have the most likely chance of success I determined forthwith to apply. Pausing only to place my feet at the absolute center of the circle, I crouched and sprang straight upward. At the top of my leap, which was about twelve feet, I withdrew my sword and, extending my arms over my head, I managed to land within the sphere of safety.

I chose one banth who seemed older and slower than the rest and slashed out at his face. Scarcely had my blade touched him than his neighbor reached out a clawed foot and tore at my arm. It was with great difficulty that I managed to retain my grip on the sword’s hilt, so severe was the pain, but manage I did and was quickly out of reach.

So Hin Abtol had figured on everything, even on my succeeding in drawing my sword, and still I was trapped! Nonetheless, I would never admit defeat at the hands of that tyrant, and I soon saw that if I couldn’t kill the banths, I could at least make them back away and give me a little more breathing room. I had given up all hope of reaching a doorway, and my aim now was to jump to the relative safety of one of the crossbeams.

Methodically, keeping my arm close to my body and guiding my sword
only with my wrist, I began pricking out the beasts’ eyes. The plan was far more easily accomplished than I had anticipated, for despite their pain they still strained at their chains. I had blinded nine of them and was working on the tenth when I thought I heard an exclamation of surprise from without the doors.

I worked faster now, excited by the prospect of reaching the beams. Only one banth remained, and I soon put an end to his vision.

Now I had but to drive them back and leap upward. I felt certain that once I reached the safety of the shadows above me, I could discover where the light and noise came from and possibly find some means of escape.

Yelling and whistling, I herded three of the banths into a group. This gave me an extra two feet at one edge of the circle, and I quickly sized up the distance to the nearest beam.

Just then a mocking voice rang out.

“So the Warlord prefers to keep his enemies in darkness, does he? We must by all means oblige him.”

Then that unbearable light struck my eyes once more, and, blinded, I stumbled out of the confines of the circle.

The Secret Passage

As I tried to return to the circle, my eyes burning, I waited for the fangs which must momentarily sink into my flesh to strike. None of the banths attacked me, however, and when I regained my vision I saw that the room was empty, the banths evidently having been pulled back behind the doors.

“John Carter!” said the voice. “How do you like our little room?”

“I feel that it justly compliments the courage of Hin Abtol,” I replied. “What small intelligence he possesses could only be turned toward such projects as this.”

I was hoping to enrage the possessor of the voice enough to keep him talking until I could spot exactly where the voice was coming from. I could easily have jumped to the beams now, but as I was not in immediate danger, there was nothing to be gained from such a move until I could formulate some further plan of action once I had achieved that goal.

“You should speak more kindly of the Jeddak, John Carter, lest he prolong your agony further than he had planned.”

“I still live,” I replied, “and I shall live to see the death of Hin Abtol.”

“We shall see,” said the voice, and then all was silent.

I went through another ordeal of the lights and noise, and the extremes of temperature. I estimated that I had not eaten or slept for at least two days, and possibly as many as four.

It was fiendish. Never for an instant was I allowed to achieve bodily comfort, nor was my torment enough to kill me. I felt my hold upon my mind slipping as I went through the perpetual motions of binding and unbinding my eyes, shivering and sweltering, starving and thirsting.

When it seemed that I had reached my physical limit, the room would return to normal until I had regained, not my strength, but my will power. Then I would be forced into the cycles again. The chamber was becoming more and more surely my burial ground, for I no longer thought of escape but only of survival, and then not even that. I ceased to think at all, but merely reacted to my various stimuli, much as an amoeba would do.

I could barely stand up, and my motions were sluggish and ponderous. I fell to jabbering like the idiot I was fast becoming, and always that light, that noise, would drive me about the room.

I realized that I would soon lose hold of my sanity forever and decided to try one last resort. Pretending to go completely berserk (and in truth I was not far from that point), I ranted and raged, screaming curses and banging against the walls. I continued this for as long as I thought it would take to make a convincing display of madness, and then flung myself to the floor and remained motionless.

The light came on then, but I had anticipated this and had fallen with my face buried in my hands. The grating noise came next; I wanted to scream and curse in earnest this time, but I realized that if I did so my fate was irrevocably sealed, and with the greatest of efforts, I remained still. They tried the heat and the cold then, but I had become so accustomed to them that I found it easy to keep my pose.

Then, for what seemed an interminably long time, they made no further attempts to persecute me. I was hoping that they would assume I was dead and carry me out of the room, and once outside I intended to make a break for freedom.

At last I heard a door open, and awaited the sound of metal accoutrements clanking together, but none was forthcoming. Instead, a strange shuffling sound came to my ears.

I made no move until I felt a heavy hand grab my arm, and, opening my eyes slightly, I was greeted by a most horrible sight. I knew at once that I was looking at a targath, for those protruding fangs and that eyeless head could belong only to the creature Tan Hadron had described to me.

I wrenched myself free and backed off from the targath. His movements brought to mind the picture of a giant sloth, but in appearance he was unique. No words can adequately describe that unseeing face, those great patches of long, gray hair, the sheer brute power of his nine-foot frame.

He snarled and lunged at me, but I was too fast for him. Sidestepping quickly, I grabbed one of his massive arms and twisted with all the strength that remained in my weakened body. He spun through the air and landed on his back with a resounding thud.