Worlds of Edgar Rice Burroughs (18 page)

“You shall regret that, Talon Gar,” I said, pricking his other cheek. “It is a shame that you will not live long enough to learn to properly acknowledge your superiors.”

I commenced to take Talon Gar to pieces. Always he was the aggressor, and always I would inflict wound after wound upon him while stepping nimbly out of his reach. He was a good swordsman, but he had not mastered the one essential of his art: a cool head. With death staring me in the face, I would never have followed Talon Gar’s rushing tactics, but would have retreated and waited for an opening; but the Panar, blood streaming down his body from a hundred cuts and slashes, kept trying to reach me, all the while cursing and grinning like the madman he was. I disarmed him and sent his sword flying some fifty feet away.

“Give him another sword, I-Pak,” I said, putting the point of my blade to the ground. “John Carter does not murder defenseless men, no matter how much they may deserve it.”

“We have no weapons here,” replied the Jed patiently, “for as you have been told repeatedly, we have no enemies. You must wait while he retrieves his sword.”

This put an entirely different complexion on our situation; if they had no weapons, they had no means of defense!

I had little time to mull over the possibilities that I-Pak’s revelation had presented, for Talon Gar was soon upon me again, attacking with renewed fury. My blade moved with the swiftness of light, weaving a web of steel about me and taking its toll upon Talon Gar’s tattered flesh. I wondered why he had not grasped the opportunity to turn on I-Pak’s unarmed men, but one look at his face and I knew the answer: he had the same mad grin I had seen when he had kicked Tan Hadron in the dungeon. He cared nothing for escape; only blood would satisfy him.

As I sidestepped his next thrust, I lopped off one of his ears, yet he seemed as oblivious to pain as a hormad, and, realizing that I could punish him no further, I moved in for the kill. It came quickly, for I bound his blade up when next he lunged and slid my point along it until I had pierced his heart.

I was greeted with cheers and applause from the warriors, and Tan Hadron was led into the circle. He, too, had understood the import behind I-Pak’s words, and the instant he was given Talon Gar’s sword he turned on the Jed, and I quickly leaped to his aide.

“What!” shrieked I-Pak, infuriated. “You would attack the chosen one of Zar? For this you shall both die!”

“By whose hand, I-Pak?” I demanded. “You have already admitted you have no weapons.”

“My warriors will slay you with their bare hands!” he screamed, his eyes burning with a fanatical light. “We are the Chosen People and can do no wrong!”

“Who among you,” said Hadron to the stunned warriors, “will be the first to face the sword of John Carter, Prince of Helium and Warlord of Barsoom?”

Not one of them moved, although I-Pak ran among them, alternately demanding and pleading for a hero.

“Zar!” he screamed at last. “Zar, descend from the roof of the Universe and strike down the infidels who threaten your chosen son!”

I grabbed the little Jed and held him firmly.

“Listen to me,” I said sharply. “Your men will not attack us, and your god, like most gods, favors the side with the best weapons. If you attempt to keep us here, we will kill anyone who stands in our way. We would go now: What is your answer?”

Sullenly, with the air of a spoiled child, he directed his men to release Lirai and Bal Daxus and escort us back to the village. From there we had no trouble finding our way back to the rafts. We took the one Talon Gar had used and set the door adrift, just in case I-Pak had a change of heart.

“Where to now?” asked Tan Hadron.

“The flier,” I said, “and then on to Helium, where I’ll gather our forces and lead them against Ayathor.”

“It could be a disastrous war, John Carter,” said Bal Daxus, “for one ship may guard the bottom of the shaft from which you must emerge and hold off an entire navy indefinitely.”

“We could guard the outer end of the shaft,” suggested Tan Hadron, “and starve them out.”

“No,” said Bal Daxus. “The fish are plentiful here. The Panars can thrive for years without leaving Ayathor.”

“True,” I mused. “We’ll have to map out our strategy once we are safely within my palace. At present, getting there is our main concern.”

When at last we came to the island where I had hidden the flier, we found that it had been discovered and destroyed. The tanks containing the ray of repulsion were punctured, and the control panel and compass were damaged beyond repair.

Dejected, I looked into the distance and saw the dark outline of the great, yawning mouth of the shaft beckoning to me. So I was to be frustrated in my escape after all! I had lived through the Pits. the Chamber of Madness, and the Island of the Dead, and yet I was no closer to freedom than I had been at any moment since I had arrived in this forgotten world.

I kicked the hull of the ship in disgust, and Tan Hadron laid an understanding hand upon my shoulder. I looked up at him, and though he tried to smile confidently at me, I could see defeat written large across his countenance.

The Frozen Army

“What next shall we try?” asked Bal Daxus presently. “We cannot long remain here, for we would soon be spotted by the next flier that comes to or leaves the city.”

“If only Carthoris knew of our whereabouts,” I said. “If he could but gain the city . . .”

“It would do no good,” said Bal Daxus, “for even if he managed to traverse the shaft, he would be met by almost half a million warriors at the city’s gates.”

It seemed pointless to argue with that, and I fell into silence. Not so Tan Hadron, however.

“Impossible,” he said. “I was told by the crew of the
Dusar
, all Panars or men who had been to Pankor, that it takes hours to bring one of the frozen warriors back, and it takes two or three men to hold each of them until their senses return.”

“That is no longer so,” corrected Bal Daxus. “Hin Abtol believes that the reason he lost so badly to Helium and Gathol was because he formulated his frozen army so slowly. For many months thereafter he and his greatest scientists labored over a new method of revival, and in the end they discovered an entirely new concept, one which has proved effective in small trials. In theory, Hin Abtol can now revive, arm, and mobilize his army in less than a zode.”

“Where are they kept?” asked Tan Hadron. “I have seen naught of them since I have been here.”

“They are in a single immense chamber,” replied Bal Daxus. “It is not far from where John Carter met us after I released you from the Pits.”

“Do you know how to revive them?” I demanded.

“Yes,” he answered. “I helped install the apparatus.”

“Then we shall return to the city at once!” I exclaimed, and hastened toward the raft.

“What for?” asked the Panar. “Surely you don’t intend to revive Hin Abtol’s army for him!”

“That, Bal Daxus, is precisely what I intend to do,” I told him.

“They will fall upon us and kill us!” he said.

“I think not,” I replied. “Have some faith in the man at whose feet you placed your sword.”

“I shall willingly follow you to my grave,” he replied with a smile, “but only if I can’t convince you not to lead me there.”

“It is the only way by which we may ever overthrow Hin Abtol. Are you with me?”

He nodded.

“And you, Hadron of Hastor?”

“The Warlord should know better than to ask,” he replied.

“Lirai,” I said, turning to the girl, “I am afraid you must return with us to the city. We shall see to it that you are well-protected.”

“Where Bal Daxus leads, I shall follow,” she said simply.

We pushed off and approached the city from the rear. When I thought we were comparatively free from detection, I drew near the shoreline, where it was an easy matter to find the doorway we had passed through when we set out for the Island of the Dead.

We carried the raft inside with us and leaned it against a wall. Then, with drawn swords, we advanced up the inclining corridor, Tan Hadron and I in front and Bal Daxus in the rear, thus protecting Lirai from any ulsios that might be lurking in the shadows.

“It appears that no one has yet discovered how we left,” remarked Tan Hadron, “for there are no new footprints in the dust.”

“That means that only Talon Gar knew of the secret passage,” I said, “and with him dead, Lirai should be quite safe in the same room.”

We heard voices in the adjoining passage and ceased speaking then. In a few moments we were once again in the room that contained the rotting carcass of the ulsio.

“Lirai,” I said, turning to the girl, “from either corridor this room appears the same as any other of the multitude of rooms, but to us it has a greater meaning and will be easy to find. I know that you may have your doubts as to its safety, but are you willing to wait here again?”

She nodded in assent, and, crossing the room, I stepped out into the corridor which led to the Pits, the Throne Room, and, most important, the chamber that held Hin Abtol’s frozen army. We cautiously proceeded to the spot where it forked and followed it to a heavy metal portal.

“Halt!” commanded a lone warrior. “Who goes there?”

“ ’Tis I, Bal Daxus, Dwar of the Third Utan.”

“Bal Daxus!” exclaimed the guard. “The whole palace has been searching for you, traitor!”

With that he hurled himself at us. Tan Hadron was in the vanguard of our trio and quickly engaged him in combat. The guard was good, let there be no denying it, but Tan Hadron of Hastor is superb, and scarcely had they crossed blades ere Hadron was stepping over the dead body of his foe and advancing toward the portal.

“How may we pass?” he asked. “I see no latches.”

Bal Daxus approached the metal door and turned to the wall beside it, pushing a neatly concealed button. Slowly the massive panel rose, until there was room for us to step through. We found ourselves on a balcony overlooking row upon row of blocks of ice, and inside each block was a warrior. These warriors represented every race on Barsoom: red men, yellow men, green men, Black Pirates, even an occasional thern and Orovar.

“Half a million souls,” commented Tan Hadron, “awaiting their resurrection.”

“Once we release them from their icy prisons, what will we do?” asked Bal Daxus. “We’ll be caught between them and Hin Abtol’s palace warriors.”

“I think not,” I said. “I plan to enlist their aid.”

“I had guessed as much,” said Tan Hadron. “How do we revive them, Bal Daxus?”

The Panar led us up a ramp which brought us to a large machine that contained many lights and dials, and promptly began pressing buttons and turning knobs. It made no sense to me, but it was clear that he knew precisely what he was doing.

“Their blocks of ice will soon melt, John Carter,” he said at last. “Here is an amplifier through which you may speak to them from this balcony.”

I took the microphone and watched the unfolding panorama below me. Here and there the ice had already turned to water, and a fine chemical spray was showered down upon the warriors. This done, their ersite tables began vibrating, and soon the bodies were stirring, life returning to their long-frozen limbs.

It was an awesome sight, seeing those half-million men return to the world of the living, but I had no time to appreciate it. Putting the microphone to my lips, I waited until I thought they could comprehend what had happened to them, and then I spoke.

“Warriors!” I said. “This is John Carter, Warlord of Barsoom. I have just liberated you from your prisons; for this each and every one of you owes me his attention. Some of you are unaware of your surroundings. You are in Ayathor, a sunken world beneath the surface of Pankor. Hin Abtol brought you here when he was defeated in his war with Helium and Gathol. He intends to use you in his mad scheme of world conquest, and only by acceding to his demands can you ever see the sun again.”

A loud groan arose from half a million throats.

“There is but one way by which you can avoid the fate Hin Abtol has planned for you,” I continued. “Most of you have been taken prisoner by him; those few among you who are Panars owe him no allegiance. I have revived you for a purpose. Should you fail to agree to it, you will once again be encased in ice.” I doubted that this could be done, but they had no more knowledge of the new process than I did, and it made the proper impression. “Warriors, give me your pledge that you will aid me in overthrowing Hin Abtol, and if we succeed, you will all be granted your freedom!”

They were silent for a moment, and then one man, whom I recognized to be a long-lost Heliumite, gave a loud yell: “Down with Hin Abtol!”

More and more of them took up the chant until the din was deafening.

“Listen!” I shouted over the roar. “We have no weapons for you. However, Hin Abtol has no more than thirty thousand men at most, and many of them will join our cause. Kill no one unless they resist. You see beside me Tan Hadron of Hastor and Bal Daxus of Pankor; we three will be your leaders. When you are released, you will follow us to the branch in the corridors. From there I shall proceed to the Throne Room, Tan Hadron will go to the Pits to release the other prisoners, and Bal Daxus will lead you to the soldiers’ quarters. You are free to follow whomever you choose.”