A FIGHTING MAN OF MARS
EDGAR RICE BURROUGHS
ACE BOOKS, INC.
1120 Avenue of the Americas
New York 36, N.Y.
A FIGHTING MAN OF MARS
This Ace edition follows the text of the first
hard-cover book edition, originally published in 1931.
_Cover art and title page illustration by Roy Krenkel, Jr._
Printed in U.S.A.
AN UNSEEN FOE STRIKES AGAINST JOHN CARTER
Under the double moons of Barsoom, an invisible flier sped to the
mysterious city of Jahar where Sanoma Tora, the kidnapped princess of
Helium had been taken. Hadron of Hastor was at the controls, hatching
a rescue plan that required unusual daring and great ingenuity. For
invisibility alone was not a great enough weapon against "The Death."
And should Hadron succeed, what fate would await him at the hands of
the madman whose very genius had created the means of that rescue?
A FIGHTING MAN OF MARS is the exciting story of Martian adventure
as transmitted by Ulysses Paxton on Mars to Edgar Rice Burroughs in
Tarzana, by means of Pellucidar's Gridley Wave.
CONTENTS
FOREWORD
I SANOMA TORA
II BROUGHT DOWN
III CORNERED
IV TAVIA
V TO THE PITS
VI SENTENCED TO DIE
VII THE DEATH
VIII THE SPIDER OF GHASTA
IX PHOR TAK OF JHAMA
X THE FLYING DEATH
XI "LET THE FIRE BE HOT!"
XII THE CLOAK OF INVISIBILITY
XIII TUL AXTAR'S WOMEN
XIV THE CANNIBALS OF U-GOR
XV THE BATTLE OF JAHAR
XVI DESPAIR
XVII I FIND A PRINCESS
A FIGHTING MAN OF MARS
FOREWORD
To Jason Gridley of Tarzana, discoverer of the Gridley Wave, belonged
the credit of establishing radio communication between Pellucidar and
the outer world.
It was my good fortune to be much in his laboratory while he was
carrying on his experiments and to be, also, the recipient of his
confidences, so that I was fully aware that while he hoped to establish
communication with Pellucidar he was also reaching out toward an
even more stupendous accomplishment--he was groping through space
for contact with another planet; nor did he attempt to deny that the
present goal of his ambition was radio communication with Mars.
Gridley had constructed a simple, automatic device for broadcasting
signals intermittently and for recording whatever might be received
during his absence.
For a period of five minutes the Gridley Wave carried a simple code
signal consisting of two letters, "J.G.," out into the ether, following
which there was a pause of ten minutes. Hour after hour, day after
day, week after week, these silent, invisible messengers sped out to
the uttermost reaches of infinite space, and after Jason Gridley left
Tarzana to embark upon his expedition to Pellucidar, I found myself
drawn to his laboratory by the lure of the tantalizing possibilities of
his dream, as well as by the promise I had made him that I would look
in occasionally to see that the device was functioning properly and to
examine the recording instruments for any indication that the signals
had been received and answered.
My considerable association with Gridley had given me a fair working
knowledge of his devices and sufficient knowledge of the Morse Code to
enable me to receive with moderate accuracy and speed.
Months passed; dust accumulated thickly upon everything except the
working parts of Gridley's device, and the white ribbon of ticker tape
that was to receive an answering signal retained its virgin purity;
then I went away for a short trip into Arizona.
I was absent for about ten days and upon my return one of the first
things with which I concerned myself was an inspection of Gridley's
laboratory and the instruments he had left in my care. As I entered the
familiar room and switched on the lights it was with the expectation
of meeting with the same blank unresponsiveness to which I was by now
quite accustomed.
As a matter of fact, hope of success had never been raised to
any considerable degree in my breast, nor had Gridley been over
sanguine--his was merely an experiment. He considered it well worth
while to make it, and I considered it equally worth while to lend him
what small assistance I might.
It was, therefore, with feelings of astonishment that assumed the
magnitude of a distinct shock that I saw upon the ticker tape the
familiar tracings which stand for the dots and dashes of code.
Of course I realized that some other researcher might have duplicated
Jason's discovery of the Gridley Wave and that the message might have
originated upon earth, or, again, it might be a message from Jason
himself in Pellucidar, but when I had deciphered it, all doubts were
quickly put to rest. It was from Ulysses Paxton, one time captain, --th
U.S. Infantry, who, miraculously transported from a battlefield in
France to the bosom of the great Red Planet, had become the right hand
man of Ras Thavas, the master mind of Mars, and later the husband of
Valla Dia, daughter of Kor San, Jeddak of Duhor.
In brief, the message explained that for months mysterious signals had
been received at Helium, and while they were unable to interpret them,
they felt that they came from Jasoom, the name by which the planet
Earth is known upon Mars.
John Carter being absent from Helium, a fast flier had been dispatched
to Duhor bearing an urgent request to Paxton to come at once to the
twin cities and endeavor to determine if in truth the signals they were
receiving actually originated upon the planet of his birth.
Upon his arrival at Helium, Paxton immediately recognized the Morse
Code signals and no doubt was left in the minds of the Martian
scientists that at last something tangible had been accomplished toward
the solution of inter-communication between Jasoom and Barsoom.
Repeated attempts to transmit answering signals to Earth proved
fruitless and then the best minds of Helium settled down to the task of
analyzing and reproducing the Gridley Wave.
They felt that at last they had succeeded. Paxton had sent his message
and they were eagerly awaiting an acknowledgment.
I have since been in almost constant communication with Mars, but out
of loyalty to Jason Gridley, to whom all the credit and honor are
due, I have made no official announcement, nor shall I give out any
important information, leaving all that for his return to the outer
world; but I believe that I am betraying no confidence if I narrate to
you the interesting story of Hadron of Hastor, which Paxton told me one
evening not long since.
I hope that you will enjoy it as much as I did.
But before I go on with the story a brief description of the principal
races of Mars, their political and military organization and some
of their customs may prove of interest to many of my readers. The
dominant race in whose hands rest the progress and civilization--yes,
the very life of Mars--differ but little in physical appearance from
ourselves. The fact that their skins are a light reddish copper
color and that they are oviparous constitute the two most marked
divergences from Anglo-Saxon standards. No, there is another--their
longevity. A thousand years is the natural span of life of a Martian,
although, because of their war-like activities and the prevalence of
assassination among them, few live their allotted span.
Their general political organization has changed little in countless
ages, the unit still being the tribe, at the head of which is a
chief or jed, corresponding in modern times to our king. The princes
are known as lesser jeds, while the chief of chiefs, or the head of
consolidated tribes, is the jeddak, or emperor, whose consort is a
jeddara.
The majority of red Martians live in walled cities, though there are
many who reside in isolated, though well walled and defended, farm
homes along those rich irrigated ribbons of land that we of earth know
as the Canals of Mars.
In the far south, that is in the south polar region, dwells a race of
very handsome and highly intelligent black men. There, also, is the
remnant of a white race; while the north polar regions are dominated by
a race of yellow men.
In between the two poles and scattered over all the arid waste lands
of the dead sea bottoms, often inhabiting the ruined cities of another
age, are the feared green hordes of Mars.
The terrible green warriors of Barsoom are the hereditary enemies of
all the other races of this martial planet. They are of heroic size and
in addition to being equipped with two legs and two arms apiece, they
have an intermediary pair of limbs, which may be used at will either as
arms or legs. Their eyes are set at the extreme sides of their heads, a
trifle above the center, and protrude in such a manner that they may be
directed either forward or back and also independently of each other,
thus permitting these remarkable creatures to look in any direction, or
in two directions at once without the necessity of turning their heads.
Their ears, which are slightly above the eyes and closer together, are
small cupped shape antennae, protruding several inches from the head,
while their noses are but longitudinal slits in the center of their
faces, midway between their mouths and ears.
They have no hair on their bodies, which are of a very light
yellowish-green color in infancy, deepening to an olive green toward
maturity, the adult males being darker in color than the females.
The iris of the eyes is blood red, as an Albino's while the pupil is
dark. The eyeball itself is very white, as are the teeth and it is
these latter which add a most ferocious appearance to an otherwise
fearsome and terrible countenance, as the lower tusks curve upward to
sharp points which end about where the eyes of earthly human beings
are located. The whiteness of the teeth is not that of ivory, but of
the snowiest and most gleaming of china. Against the dark background
of their olive skins their tusks stand out in a most striking manner,
causing these weapons to present a singularly formidable appearance.
They are a cruel and taciturn race, entirely devoid of love, sympathy
or pity.
They are an equestrian race, never walking other than to move about
their camps.
Their mounts, called thoats, are great savage beasts, whose proportions
harmonize with those of their giant masters. They have eight legs and
broad flat tails larger at the tips than at the roots. They hold these
tails straight out while running. Their mouths are enormous, splitting
their heads from their snouts to their long, massive necks. Like their
masters, they are entirely devoid of hair, their skins being a dark
slate color and exceedingly smooth and glossy, with the exception of
the belly, which is white, and the legs, which shade from the slate
of the shoulders and hips to a vivid yellow at the feet. The feet are
heavily padded and nailless.
Like the red men, the green hordes are ruled by jeds and jeddaks,
but their military organization is not carried to the same detail of
perfection as is that of the red men.
The military forces of the red men are highly organized, the
principal arm of the service being the navy, an enormous air force of
battleships, cruisers and an infinite variety of lesser craft down
to one-man scout fliers. Next in size and importance is the infantry
branch of the service, while the cavalry, mounted on a breed of small
thoats, similar to those used by the green Martian giants, is utilized
principally in patrolling the avenues of the cities and the rural
districts that border the irrigating systems.
The principal basic unit, although not the smallest one of the military
organization, is a utan, consisting of one hundred men, which is
commanded by a dwar with several padwars or lieutenants junior to him.
An odwar commands a umak of ten thousand men, while next above him is a
jedwar, who is junior only to the jed or king.
Science, literature, art and architecture are in some of their
departments further advanced upon Mars than upon Earth, a remarkable
thing when one considers the constant battle for survival which is the
most marked characteristic of life upon Barsoom.
Not only are they waging a continual battle against Nature, which is
slowly diminishing their already scant atmosphere, but from birth to
death they are constantly faced by the stern necessity of defending
themselves against enemy nations of their own race and the great hordes
of roving green warriors of the dead sea bottom; while within the walls
of their own cities are countless professional assassins, whose calling
is so well recognized that in some localities they are organized into
guilds.
But notwithstanding all the grim realities with which they have to
contend, the red Martians are a happy, social people. They have their
games, their dances and their songs, and the social life of a great
capital of Barsoom is as gay and magnificent as any that may be found
in the rich capitals of Earth.
That they are a brave, noble and generous people is indicated by the
fact that neither John Carter nor Ulysses Paxton would return to Earth
if they might.
And now to return to the tale that I had from Paxton across forty-three
million miles of space.
I
SANOMA TORA
This is the story of Hadron of Hastor, Fighting Man of Mars, as
narrated by him to Ulysses Paxton:
I am Tan Hadron of Hastor, my father is _Had Urtur_, Odwar of the 1st
Umak of the Troops of Hastor. He commands the largest ship of war that
Hastor has ever contributed to the navy of Helium, accommodating as it
does the entire ten thousand men of the 1st Umak, together with five
hundred lesser fighting ships and all the paraphernalia of war. My
mother is a princess of Gathol.
As a family we are not rich except in honor, and, valuing this above
all mundane possessions, I chose the profession of my father rather
than a more profitable career. The better to further my ambition I came
to the capital of the empire of Helium and took service in the troops
of Tardos Mors, Jeddak of Helium, that I might be nearer the great John
Carter, Warlord of Mars.
My life in Helium and my career in the army were similar to those of
hundreds of other young men. I passed through my training days without
notable accomplishment, neither heading nor trailing my fellows, and in
due course I was made a Padwar in the 91st Umak, being assigned to the
5th Utan of the 11th Dar.
What with being of noble lineage by my father and inheriting royal
blood from my mother, the palaces of the twin cities of Helium were
always open to me and I entered much into the gay life of the capital.
It was thus that I met Sanoma Tora, daughter of Tor Hatan, Odwar of the
91st Umak.
Tor Hatan is only of the lower nobility, but he is fabulously rich
from the loot of many cities well invested in farm land and mines, and
because here in the capital of Helium riches count for more than they
do in Hastor, Tor Hatan is a powerful man, whose influence reaches even
to the throne of the Jeddak.
Never shall I forget the occasion upon which I first laid eyes upon
Sanoma Tora. It was upon the occasion of a great feast at the marble
palace of The Warlord. There were gathered under one roof the most
beautiful women of Barsoom, where, notwithstanding the gorgeous and
radiant beauty of Dejah Thoris, Tara of Helium and Thuvia of Ptarth,
the pulchritude of Sanoma Tora was such as to arrest attention. I shall
not say that it was greater than that of those acknowledged queens of
Barsoomian loveliness, for I know that my adoration of Sanoma Tora
might easily influence my judgment, but there were others there who
remarked her gorgeous beauty which differs from that of Dejah Thoris as
the chaste beauty of a polar landscape differs from the beauty of the
tropics, as the beauty of a white palace in the moonlight differs from
the beauty of its garden at midday.
When at my solicitation I was presented to her, she glanced first
at the insignia upon my armor, and noting therefrom that I was but
a Padwar, she vouchsafed me but a condescending word and turned her
attention again to the Dwar with whom she had been conversing.
I must admit that I was piqued and yet it was, indeed, the contumelious
treatment she accorded me that fixed my determination to win her, for
the goal most difficult of attainment has always seemed to me the most
desirable.
And so it was that I fell in love with Sanoma Tora, the daughter of
the commander of the Umak to which I was attached.
For a long time I found it difficult to further my suit in the
slightest degree; in fact I did not even see Sanoma Tora for several
months after our first meeting, since when she found that I was poor
as well as low in rank I found it impossible to gain an invitation to
her home and it chanced that I did not meet her elsewhere for a long
time, but the more inaccessible she became the more I loved her until
every waking moment of my time that was not actually occupied by the
performance of my military duties was devoted to the devising of new
and ever increasingly rash plans to possess her. I even had the madness
to consider abducting her, and I believe that I should eventually have
gone this far had there been no other way in which I could see her, but
about this time a fellow officer of the 91st, in fact the Dwar of the
Utan to which I was attached, took pity on me and obtained for me an
invitation to a feast in the palace of Tor Hatan.
My host, who was also my commanding officer, had never noticed me
before this evening and I was surprised to note the warmth and
cordiality of his greetings.
"We must see more of you here, Hadron of Hastor," he had said. "I have
been watching you and I prophesy that you will go far in the military
service of the Jeddak."
Now I knew he was lying when he said that he had been watching me, for
Tor Hatan was notoriously lax in his duties as a commanding officer,
all of which were performed by the senior Teedwar of the Umak. While
I could not fathom the cause of this sudden interest in me, it was
nevertheless very pleasing since through it I might in some degree
further my pursuit of the heart and hand of Sanoma Tora.
Sanoma Tora herself was slightly more cordial than upon the occasion
of our first meeting, though she noticeably paid more attention to Sil
Vagis than she did to me.
Now if there is any man in Helium whom I particularly detest more than
another it is Sil Vagis, a nasty little snob who holds the title of
Teedwar, though so far as I was ever able to ascertain he commands
no troops, but is merely on the staff of Tor Hatan, principally, I
presume, because of the great wealth of his father.
Such creatures we have to put up with in times of peace, but when war
comes and the great Warlord takes command it is the fighting men who
rank and riches do not count.
But be that as it may, while Sil Vagis spoiled this evening for me
as he would spoil many others in the future, nevertheless I left the
palace of Tor Hatan that night with a feeling bordering upon elation,
for I had Sanoma Tora's permission to see her again in her father's
home when my duties would permit me to pay my respects to her.
Returning to my quarters I was accompanied by my friend, the Dwar,
and when I commented on the warmth of Tor Hatan's reception of me he
laughed.
"You find it amusing," I said. "Why?"
"Tor Hatan, as you know," he said, "is very rich and powerful, and yet
it is seldom, as you may have noticed, that he is invited to any one of
the four places of Helium in which ambitious men most crave to be seen."
"You mean the palaces of the Warlord, the Jeddak, the Jed and
Carthoris?" I asked.
"Of course," he replied. "What other four in Helium count for so much
as these? Tor Hatan," he continued, "is supposed to come from the lower
nobility, but there is a question in my mind as to whether there is a
drop of noble blood in his veins, and one of the facts upon which I
base my conjecture is his cringing and fawning reverence for anything
pertaining to royalty--he would give his fat soul to be considered an
intimate of any one of the four."
"But what has that to do with me?" I demanded.
"A great deal," he replied; "in fact, because of it you were invited to
his palace tonight."
"I do not understand," I said.
"I chanced to be talking with Tor Hatan the morning of the day you
received your invitation and in the course of our conversation I
mentioned you. He had never heard of you, and as a Padwar in the 5th
Utan you aroused his interest not a particle, but when I told him that
your mother was a princess of Gathol, he pricked up his ears, and when
he learned that you were received as a friend and equal in the palaces
of the four demigods of Helium, he became almost enthusiastic about
you. Now do you understand?" he concluded with a short laugh.
"Perfectly," I replied, "but none the less, I thank you. All that I
wanted was the opportunity and inasmuch as I was prepared to achieve
it criminally if necessary, I cannot quibble over any means that were
employed to obtain it, however unflattering they may be to me."
For months I haunted the palace of Tor Hatan, and being naturally a
good conversationalist and well schooled in the stately dances and
joyous games of Barsoom, I was by no means an unwelcome visitor. Also
I made it a point often to take Sanoma Tora to one or another of the
four great palaces of Helium. I was always welcome because of the blood
relationship which existed between my mother and Gahan of Gathol, who
had married Tara of Helium.
Naturally I felt that I was progressing well with my suit, but my
progress was not fast enough to keep pace with the racing desires of my
passion. Never had I known love before and I felt that I should die if
I did not soon possess Sanoma Tora, and so it was that upon a certain
night I visited the palace of her father definitely determined to lay
my heart and sword at her feet before I left, and, although the natural
complexes of a lover convinced me that I was an unworthy worm, that she
would be wholly justified in spurning, I was yet determined to declare
myself so that I might openly be accounted a suitor, which, after all,
gives one greater freedom even though he be not entirely a favored
suitor.
It was one of those lovely nights that transform old Barsoom into a
world of enchantment. Thuria and Cluros were racing through the heavens
casting their soft light upon the garden of Tor Hatan, empurpling the
vivid, scarlet sward and lending strange hues to the gorgeous blooms
of pimalia and sorapus, while the winding walks, gravelled with
semi-precious stones, shot back a thousand scintillant rays that,
clothed in ever-changing colors, danced at the feet of the marble
statuary that lent an added artistic charm to the ensemble.
In one of the spacious halls that overlooked the garden of the palace,
a youth and a maiden sat upon a massive bench of rich sorapus wood,
such a bench as might have graced the halls of the great Jeddak
himself, so intricate its rich design, so perfect the carving of the
master craftsman who produced it.
Upon the leathern harness of the youth were the insignia of his rank
and service--a Padwar in the 91st Umak. The youth was I, Hadron of
Hastor, and with me was Sanoma Tora, daughter of Tor Hatan. I had come
filled with the determination boldly to plead my cause, but suddenly I
had become aware of my unworthiness. What had I to offer this beautiful
daughter of the rich Tor Hatan? I was only a Padwar, and a poor one at
that. Of course, there was the royal blood of Gathol in my veins, and
that, I knew, would have weight with Tor Hatan, but I am not given to
boasting and I could not have reminded Sanoma Tora of the advantages
to be derived because of it even had I known positively that it would
influence her. I had, therefore, nothing to offer but my great love,
which is, perhaps, after all, the greatest gift that man or woman can
bring to another, and I had thought of late that Sanoma Tora might love
me. Upon several occasions she had sent for me, and, although in each
instance she had suggested going to the palace of Tara of Helium, I had
been vain enough to hope that this was not her sole reason for wishing
to be with me.
"You are uninteresting tonight, Hadron of Hastor," she said after a
particularly long silence, during which I had been endeavoring to
formulate my proposal in some convincing and graceful phrases.
"Perhaps," I replied, "it is because I am trying to find the words in
which to clothe the most interesting thought I have ever entertained."
"And what is that?" she asked politely, though with no great show of
interest.
"I love you, Sanoma Tora," I blurted awkwardly.
She laughed. It was like the tinkling of silver upon crystal--beautiful
but cold. "That has been apparent for a long while," she said, "but why
speak of it?"
"And why not?" I asked.
"Because even if I returned your love, I am not for you, Hadron of
Hastor," she replied coldly.
"You cannot love me then, Sanoma Tora?" I asked.
"I did not say that," she replied.
"You could love me?"
"I could love you if I permitted myself the weakness," she said, "but
what is love?"
"Love is everything," I told her.
Sanoma Tora laughed. "If you think that I would link myself for life to
a threadbare Padwar even if I loved him, you are mistaken," she said
haughtily. "I am the daughter of Tor Hatan, whose wealth and power are
but little less than those of the royal families of Helium. I have
suitors whose wealth is so great that they could buy you a thousand
times over. Within the year an emissary of the Jeddak Tul Axtar of
Jahar waited upon my father; he had seen me and he said that he would
return, and, merely for love, you would ask me, who may some day be
Jeddara of Jahar, to become the wife of a poor Padwar."
I arose. "Perhaps you are right," I said. "You are so beautiful that it
does not seem possible that you could be wrong, but deep in my heart I
cannot but feel that happiness is the greatest treasure that one may
possess, and love the greatest power. Without these, Sanoma Tora, even
a Jeddara is poor indeed."
"I shall take my chance," she said.
"I hope that the Jeddak of Jahar is not as greasy as his emissary," I
remarked rather peevishly, I am afraid.
"He may be an animated grease-pot for all I care if he will make me his
Jeddara," said Sanoma Tora.
"Then there is no hope for me?" I asked.
"Not while you have so little to offer, Padwar," she replied.
It was then that a slave announced Sil Vagis, and I took my leave.
I had never before plumbed such depths of despondency as that which
engulfed me as I made my unhappy way back to my quarters, but even
though hope seemed dead I had not relinquished my determination to win
her. If wealth and power were her price, then I would achieve wealth
and power. Just how I was going to accomplish it was not entirely
clear, but I was young and to youth all things are possible.
I had tossed in wakefulness upon my sleeping silks and furs for some
time when an officer of the guard burst suddenly into my quarters.
"Hadron!" he shouted, "are you here?"
"Yes," I replied.
"Praised be the ashes of my ancestors!" he exclaimed. "I feared that
you were not."
"Why should I not be?" I demanded. "What is this all about?"
"Tor Hatan, the fat old treasure bag, is gone mad," he exclaimed.
"Tor Hatan gone mad? What do you mean? What has that got to do with me?"
"He swears that you have abducted his daughter."
In an instant I was upon my feet. "Abducted Sanoma Tora!" I cried. "Has
something happened to her? Tell me, quickly."
"Yes, she is gone, all right," said my informant, "and there is
something mighty mysterious about it."
But I did not wait to hear more. Seizing my harness, I adjusted it
as I ran up the spiral runway toward the hangars on the roof of the
barracks. I had no authority or permit to take out a flier, but what
did that mean to me if Sanoma Tora was in danger?
The hangar guards sought to detain and question me. I do not recall
what I told them; I know that I must have lied to them, for they let
me run out a swift one-man flier and an instant later I was racing
through the night toward the palace of Tor Hatan.
As it stands but little more than two haads from the barracks, I was
there in but a few moments, and, as I landed in the garden, which was
now brilliantly lighted, I saw a number of people congregated there,
among whom were Tor Hatan and Sil Vagis.
As I leaped from the deck of the flier, the former came angrily toward
me. "So it is you!" he cried. "What have you to say for yourself? Where
is my daughter?"
"That is what I have come to ask, Tor Hatan," I replied.
"You are at the bottom of this," he cried. "You abducted her. She told
Sil Vagis that this very night you had demanded her hand in marriage
and that she had refused you."
"I did ask for her hand," I said, "and she refused me. That part is
true; but if she has been abducted, in the name of your first ancestor,
do not waste time trying to connect me with the diabolical plot. I had
nothing to do with it. How did it happen? Who was with her?"
"Sil Vagis was with her. They were walking in the garden," replied Tor
Hatan.
"You saw her abducted," I asked, turning to Sil Vagis, "and you are
here unwounded and alive?"
He started to stammer. "There were many of them," he said. "They
overpowered me."
"You saw them?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Was I among them?" I demanded.
"It was dark. I could not recognize any of them; perhaps they were
disguised."
"They overpowered you?" I asked him.
"Yes," he said.
"You lie!" I exclaimed. "Had they laid hands upon you they would have
killed you. You ran away and hid, never drawing a weapon to defend the
girl."
"That is a lie," cried Sil Vagis. "I fought with them, but they
overpowered me."
I turned to Tor Hatan. "We are wasting time," I said. "Is there no
one who can give us a clue as to the identity of these men and the
direction they took in their flight? How and whence came they? How and
whence did they depart?"
"He is trying to throw you off the track, Tor Hatan," said Sil Vagis.
"Who else could it have been but a disgruntled suitor? What would you
say if I should tell you that the metal of the men who stole Sanoma
Tora was the metal of the warriors of Hastor?"
"I would say that you are a liar," I replied. "If it was so dark that
you could not recognize faces, how could you decipher the insignia upon
their harness?"
At this juncture another officer of the 91st Umak joined us. "We have
found one who may, perhaps, shed some light upon the subject," he said,
"if he lives long enough to speak."
Men had been searching the grounds of Tor Hatan and that portion of the
city adjacent to his palace, and now several approached bearing a man,
whom they laid upon the sward at our feet. His broken and mangled body
was entirely naked, and as he lay there gasping feebly for breath, he
was a pitiful spectacle.
A slave dispatched into the palace returned with stimulants, and
when some of these had been forced between his lips, the man revived
slightly.
"Who are you?" asked Tor Hatan.
"I am a warrior of the city guard," replied the man feebly.
An officer approached Tor Hatan excitedly. "My men have just found six
more bodies close to the point at which we discovered this man," he
said. "They are all naked and similarly broken and mangled."
"Perhaps we shall get to the bottom of this yet," said Tor Hatan, and,
turning again to the poor, broken thing upon the scarlet sward, he
directed him to proceed.
"We were on night patrol over the city when we saw a craft running
without lights. As we approached it and turned our searchlight upon it,
I caught a single, brief glimpse of it. It bore no colors or insignia
to denote its origin and its design was unlike that of any ship I
have ever seen. It had a long, low, enclosed cabin upon either side
of which were mounted two peculiar looking guns. This was all I had
time to note, except that I saw a man directing one of the guns in our
direction. The padwar in command of our ship immediately gave orders
to fire upon the stranger, and at the same time he hailed him. At that
instant our ship dissolved in mid-air; even my harness fell from me. I
remember falling, that is all," and with these words he gasped once and
died.
Tor Hatan called his people around him. "There must have been someone
about the palace or the grounds who saw something of this occurrence,"
he said. "I command that no matter who may be involved, whoever has any
knowledge whatsoever of this affair, shall speak."
A slave stepped forward, and as he approached Tor Hatan eyed him with
haughty arrogance.
"Well," demanded the odwar, "what have you to say? Speak!"
"You have commanded it, Tor Hatan," said the slave; "otherwise I should
not speak, for when I have told what I saw I shall have incurred the
enmity of a powerful noble," and he glanced quickly toward Sil Vagis.
"And if you speak the truth, man, you will have won the friendship of a
padwar whose sword is not so mean but that it may protect you even from
a powerful noble," I said quickly, and I, too, glanced at Sil Vagis,
for it was in my mind that what the fellow had to tell might be none
too flattering to the soft fop who masqueraded beneath the title of a
warrior.
"Speak!" commanded Tor Hatan impatiently. "And see to it that thou dost
not lie."
"For fourteen years I have served faithfully in your palace, Tor
Hatan," replied the man, "ever since I was brought to Helium a prisoner
of war after the fall and sack of Kobol, where I served in the body
guard of the Jed of Kobol, and in all that time you have had no reason
to question my truthfulness. Sanoma Tora trusted me, and had I had a
sword this night she might still be with us."
"Come! Come!" cried Tor Hatan; "get to the point. What saw you?"
"The fellow saw nothing," snapped Sil Vagis. "Why waste time upon him?
He seeks but to glory in a little brief notoriety."
"Let him speak," I exclaimed.
"I had just ascended the first ramp to the second level of the palace,"
explained the slave, "on my way to the sleeping quarters of Tor Hatan
to arrange his sleeping silks and furs for the night as is my custom,
and, pausing for a moment to look out into the garden, I saw Sanoma
Tora and Sil Vagis walking in the moonlight. Conscious that I should
not thus observe them, I was about to continue on my way about my
duties when I saw a flier dropping silently out of the night toward
the garden. Its motors were noiseless, it showed no light. It seemed
a spectral ship and of such strange design that even if for no other
reason it would have arrested my attention, but there were other
reasons. Unlighted ships move through the night for no good purpose,
and so I paused to watch it.
"It landed silently and quickly behind Sanoma Tora and Sil Vagis; nor
did they seem aware of its presence until their attention was attracted
by the slight clanking of the accoutrements of one of the several
warriors who sprang from its low cabin as it grounded. Then Sil Vagis
wheeled about. For just an instant he stood as though petrified and
then as the strange warriors leaped toward him, he turned and fled into
the concealing shrubbery of the garden."
"It is a lie," cried Sil Vagis.
"Silence, coward!" I commanded.
"Continue, slave!" directed Tor Hatan.
"Sanoma Tora was not aware of the presence of the strange warriors
until she was seized roughly from behind. It all happened so quickly
that I scarce had time to realize the purpose of the sinister
visitation before they laid hands upon her. When I comprehended that my
mistress was the object of this night attack, I rushed hurriedly down
the ramp, but ere I reached the garden they had dragged her aboard the
flier. Even then, however, had I had a sword I might at least have died
in the service of Sanoma Tora, for I reached the ship of mystery as the
last warrior was clambering aboard. I seized him by the harness and
attempted to drag him to the ground, at the same time shouting loudly
to attract the palace guard, but ere I did so one of his fellows on the
deck above me drew his long sword and struck viciously at my head. The
blade caught me but a glancing blow which, however, sufficed to stun
me for a moment, so that I relaxed my hold upon the strange warrior
and fell to the sward. When I regained consciousness the ship had gone
and the tardy palace guard was pouring from the guard room. I have
spoken--and spoken truthfully."
Tor Hatan's cold gaze sought out the lowered eyes of Sil Vagis. "What
have you to say to this?" he demanded.
"The fellow is in the employ of Hadron of Hastor," shouted Sil Vagis.
"He speaks nothing but lies. I attacked them when they came, but there
were many and they overpowered me. This fellow was not present."
"Let me see thy head," I said to the slave, and when he had come and
knelt before me I saw a great red welt the length of one side of his
head above the ear, just such a welt as a glancing blow from the flat
side of a long sword might have made. "Here," I said to Tor Hatan,
pointing to the great welt, "is the proof of a slave's loyalty and
courage. Let us see the wounds received by a noble of Helium who by
his own testimony engaged in single-handed combat against great odds.
Surely in such an encounter he must have received at least a single
scratch."
"Unless he is as marvelous a swordsman as the great John Carter
himself," said the dwar of the palace guard with a thinly veiled sneer.
"It is all a plot," cried Sil Vagis. "Do you take the word of a slave,
Tor Hatan, against that of a noble of Helium?"
"I rely on the testimony of my eyes and my senses," replied the odwar,
and he turned his back upon Sil Vagis and again addressed the slave.
"Didst thou recognize any of those who abducted Sanoma Tora," he
demanded, "or note their harness or their metal?"
"I got no good look at the face of any of them, but I did see the
harness and the metal of him whom I tried to drag from the flier."
"Was it the metal of Hastor?" asked Tor Hatan.
"By my first ancestor, it was not," replied the slave emphatically;
"nor was it the metal of any other city of the Empire of Helium. The
design and the insignia were unknown to me, and yet there was a certain
familiarity about them that tantalizes me. I feel that I have seen them
before, but when and where I cannot recall. In the service of my jed I
fought invaders from many lands and it may be that upon some of these I
saw similar metal many years ago."
"Are you satisfied, Tor Hatan," I demanded, "that the aspersions cast
upon me by Sil Vagis are without foundation?"
"Yes, Hadron of Hastor," replied the odwar.
"Then with your leave, I shall depart," I said.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"To find Sanoma Tora," I replied.
"And if you find her," he said, "and return her safely to me, she is
yours."
I made no other acknowledgment of his generous offer than to bow
deeply, for I had it in my mind that Sanoma Tora might have something
to say about that, and whether she had or not, I wished no mate who
came not to me willingly.
Leaping to the deck of the flier that brought me I rose into the night
and sped in the direction of the marble palace of the Warlord of
Barsoom, for, even though the hour was late, I was determined to see
him without an instant's unnecessary loss of time.
II
BROUGHT DOWN
As I approached the Warlord's palace I saw signs of activity unusual
for that hour of the night. Fliers were arriving and departing, and
when I alighted upon that portion of the roof reserved for military
ships, I saw the fliers of a number of high officers of the Warlord's
staff.
Being a frequent visitor at the palace and being well known by all the
officers of the Warlord's body guard, I had no difficulty in gaining
admission to the palace, and presently I was waiting in the hall, just
off the small compartment in which the Warlord is accustomed to give
small, private audiences, while a slave announced me to his master.
I do not know how long I waited. It could not have been a long while,
yet it seemed to me a veritable eternity, because my mind was harassed
by the conviction that the woman I loved was in dire danger. I was
possessed by a conviction, ridiculous perhaps, but none the less real,
that I alone could save her and that every instant I was delayed
reduced her chances for succor before it was too late.
But at last I was invited to enter, and when I stood in the presence of
the great Warlord I found him surrounded by men high in the councils of
Helium.
"I assume," said John Carter, coming directly to the point, "that what
brings you here tonight, Hadron of Hastor, pertains to the matter of
the abduction of the daughter of Tor Hatan. Have you any knowledge or
any theory that might cast any light upon the subject?"
"No," I replied. "I have come merely to obtain your authority to depart
at once in an attempt to pick up the trail of the abductors of Sanoma
Tora."
"Where do you intend to search?" he demanded.
"I do not yet know, sir," I replied, "but I shall find her."
He smiled. "Such assurance is at least an asset," he said, "and knowing
as I do what prompts it, I shall grant you the permission you desire.
While the abduction of a daughter of Helium is in itself of sufficient
gravity to warrant the use of every resource to apprehend her abductors
and return her to her home, there is also involved in this occurrence
an element that may portend high danger to the empire. As you doubtless
know, the mysterious ship that bore her away mounted a gun from which
emanated some force that entirely disintegrated all the metal parts
of the patrol flier that sought to intercept and question it. Even
the weapons and the metal portions of the harness of the crew were
dissipated into nothing, a fact that was easily discernible from an
examination of the wreck of the patrol flier and the bodies of its
crew. Wood, leather, flesh, everything of the animal and vegetable
kingdom that was aboard the flier, has been found scattered about the
ground where it fell, but no trace of any metallic substance remains.
"I am impressing this upon you because it suggests to my mind a
possible clue to the general location of the city of these new enemies
of Helium. I am convinced that this is but the first blow, since any
navy armed with such guns could easily hold Helium at its mercy, and
few indeed are the cities of Barsoom outside the empire that would not
seize with avidity upon any instrument that would give them the sack of
the Twin Cities.
"For some time now we have been deeply concerned by the increasing
number of missing ships of the navy. In nearly all instances these
were ships engaged in charting air currents and recording atmospheric
pressures in different parts of Barsoom far from the empire, and
recently it has become apparent that the vast majority of these ships
which never return were those cruising in the southern part of the
western hemisphere, an unhospitable portion of our planet concerning
which we have unfortunately but little knowledge owing to the fact that
we have developed no trade with the unfriendly people inhabiting this
vast domain.
"This, Hadron of Hastor, is only a suggestion; only the vaguest of
clues, but I offer it to you for what it is worth. A thousand one-man
scout fliers will be dispatched between now and noon tomorrow in search
of the abductors of Sanoma Tora; nor will these be all. Cruisers and
battleships will take the air as well, for Helium must know what city
or what nation has developed a weapon of destruction such as that used
above Helium this night.
"It is my belief that the weapon is of very recent invention and that
whatever power possesses it, must be bending every effort to perfect it
and produce it in such quantities as to make them masters of the world.
I have spoken. Go, and may fortune be with you."
You may believe that I lost no time in setting out upon my mission now
that I had authority from John Carter. Going to my quarters I hastened
my preparation for departure, which consisted principally of making a
careful selection of weapons and of exchanging a rather ornate harness
I had been wearing for one of simpler design and of heavier and more
durable leather. My fighting harness is always the best and plainest
that I can procure and is made for me by a famous harnessmaker of
Lesser Helium. My equipment of weapons was standard, consisting of
a long sword, a short sword, a dagger and a pistol. I also provided
myself with extra ammunition and a supply of the concentrated ration
used by all Martian fighting men.
As I gathered together these simple necessities which, with a single
sleeping fur, would constitute my equipment, my mind was given over to
consideration of various explanations for the disappearance of Sanoma
Tora. I searched my brain for any slightest memory that might suggest
an explanation, or point toward the possible identity of her abductors.
It was while thus engaged that I recalled her reference to the jeddak,
Tul Axtar of Jahar; nor was there within the scope of my recollection
any other incident that might point a clue. I distinctly recalled the
emissary of Tul Axtar who had visited the court of Helium not long
since. I had heard him boast of the riches and power of his jeddak
and the beauty of his women. Perhaps, then, it might be as well to
search in the direction of Jahar as elsewhere, but before departing I
determined once again to visit the palace of Tor Hatan and question the
slave who had been the last to see Sanoma Tora.
As I was about to set out, another thought occurred to me. I knew
that in the Temple of Knowledge might be found either illustrations
or replicas of the metal and harness of every nation of Barsoom,
concerning which aught was known in Helium. I therefore repaired
immediately to the temple and with the assistance of a clerk I
presently found a drawing of the harness and metal of a warrior of
Jahar. By an ingenious photostatic process a copy of this illustration
was made for me in a few seconds, and with this I hastened to the
palace of Tor Hatan.
The odwar was absent, having gone to the palace of the Warlord, but
his majordomo summoned the slave, Kal Tavan, who had witnessed the
abduction of Sanoma Tora and grappled with one of her abductors.
As the man approached I noticed him more particularly than I had
previously. He was well built, with clear cut features and that air
which definitely bespeaks the fighting man.
"You said, I believe, that you were from Kobol?" I asked.
"I was born in Tjanath," he replied. "I had a wife and daughter there.
My wife fell before the hand of an assassin and my daughter disappeared
when she was very young. I never knew what became of her. The familiar
scenes of Tjanath reminded me of happier days and so increased my grief
that I could not remain. I turned panthan then and sought service in
other cities; thus I served in Kobol."
"And there you became familiar with the harness and the metal of many
cities and nations?" I asked.
"Yes," he replied.
"What harness and metal are these?" I demanded, handing him the copy
of the illustration I had brought from the Temple of Knowledge.
He examined it briefly and then his eyes lighted with recognition. "It
is the same," he said. "It is identical."
"Identical with what?" I asked.
"With the harness worn by the warrior with whom I grappled at the time
that Sanoma Tora was stolen," he replied.
"The identity of the abductors of Sanoma Tora is established," I said,
and then I turned to the majordomo. "Send a messenger at once to the
Warlord informing him that the daughter of Tor Hatan was stolen by men
from Jahar and that it is my belief that they are the emissaries of Tul
Axtar, Jeddak of Jahar," and without more words I turned and left the
palace, going directly to my flier.
As I arose above the towers and domes and lofty landing stages of
Greater Helium, I turned the prow of my flier toward the west and
opening wide the throttle sped swiftly through the thin air of dying
Barsoom toward that great unknown expanse of her remote southwestern
hemisphere, somewhere within the vast reaches of which lay Jahar,
toward which, I was now convinced, Sanoma Tora was being borne to
become not the Jeddara of Tul Axtar, but his slave, for jeddaks take
not their jeddaras by force upon Barsoom.
I believe that I understood the explanation of Sanoma Tora's abduction,
an explanation that would have caused her intensive chagrin since
it was far from flattery. I believed that Tul Axtar's emissary had
reported to his master the charm and beauty of the daughter of Tor
Hatan, but that she was not of sufficiently noble birth to become his
jeddara, and so he had adopted the only expedient by which he might
possess her. My blood boiled at the suggestion, but my judgment told me
that it was doubtless right.
During the past years--I should say the last ten or twenty--greater
strides have been taken in the advancement of aeronautics than had been
previously achieved in the preceding five hundred years.