It was daylight when I was awakened by the sound of stealthy movement
near by.
As I opened my eyes Woola, too, moved and, coming up to his haunches,
stared through the intervening brush toward the road, each hair upon
his neck stiffly erect.
At first I could see nothing, but presently I caught a glimpse of a bit
of smooth and glossy green moving among the scarlet and purple and
yellow of the vegetation.
Motioning Woola to remain quietly where he was, I crept forward to
investigate, and from behind the bole of a great tree I saw a long line
of the hideous green warriors of the dead sea bottoms hiding in the
dense jungle beside the road.
As far as I could see, the silent line of destruction and death
stretched away from the city of Kaol. There could be but one
explanation. The green men were expecting an exodus of a body of red
troops from the nearest city gate, and they were lying there in ambush
to leap upon them.
I owed no fealty to the Jeddak of Kaol, but he was of the same race of
noble red men as my own princess, and I would not stand supinely by and
see his warriors butchered by the cruel and heartless demons of the
waste places of Barsoom.
Cautiously I retraced my steps to where I had left Woola, and warning
him to silence, signaled him to follow me. Making a considerable detour
to avoid the chance of falling into the hands of the green men, I came
at last to the great wall.
A hundred yards to my right was the gate from which the troops were
evidently expected to issue, but to reach it I must pass the flank of
the green warriors within easy sight of them, and, fearing that my plan
to warn the Kaolians might thus be thwarted, I decided upon hastening
toward the left, where another gate a mile away would give me ingress
to the city.
I knew that the word I brought would prove a splendid passport to Kaol,
and I must admit that my caution was due more to my ardent desire to
make my way into the city than to avoid a brush with the green men. As
much as I enjoy a fight, I cannot always indulge myself, and just now I
had more weighty matters to occupy my time than spilling the blood of
strange warriors.
Could I but win beyond the city’s wall, there might be opportunity in
the confusion and excitement which were sure to follow my announcement
of an invading force of green warriors to find my way within the palace
of the jeddak, where I was sure Matai Shang and his party would be
quartered.
But scarcely had I taken a hundred steps in the direction of the
farther gate when the sound of marching troops, the clank of metal, and
the squealing of thoats just within the city apprised me of the fact
that the Kaolians were already moving toward the other gate.
There was no time to be lost. In another moment the gate would be
opened and the head of the column pass out upon the death-bordered
highway.
Turning back toward the fateful gate, I ran rapidly along the edge of
the clearing, taking the ground in the mighty leaps that had first made
me famous upon Barsoom. Thirty, fifty, a hundred feet at a bound are
nothing for the muscles of an athletic Earth man upon Mars.
As I passed the flank of the waiting green men they saw my eyes turned
upon them, and in an instant, knowing that all secrecy was at an end,
those nearest me sprang to their feet in an effort to cut me off before
I could reach the gate.
At the same instant the mighty portal swung wide and the head of the
Kaolian column emerged. A dozen green warriors had succeeded in
reaching a point between me and the gate, but they had but little idea
who it was they had elected to detain.
I did not slacken my speed an iota as I dashed among them, and as they
fell before my blade I could not but recall the happy memory of those
other battles when Tars Tarkas, Jeddak of Thark, mightiest of Martian
green men, had stood shoulder to shoulder with me through long, hot
Martian days, as together we hewed down our enemies until the pile of
corpses about us rose higher than a tall man’s head.
When several pressed me too closely, there before the carved gateway of
Kaol, I leaped above their heads, and fashioning my tactics after those
of the hideous plant men of Dor, struck down upon my enemies’ heads as
I passed above them.
From the city the red warriors were rushing toward us, and from the
jungle the savage horde of green men were coming to meet them. In a
moment I was in the very center of as fierce and bloody a battle as I
had ever passed through.
These Kaolians are most noble fighters, nor are the green men of the
equator one whit less warlike than their cold, cruel cousins of the
temperate zone. There were many times when either side might have
withdrawn without dishonor and thus ended hostilities, but from the mad
abandon with which each invariably renewed hostilities I soon came to
believe that what need not have been more than a trifling skirmish
would end only with the complete extermination of one force or the
other.
With the joy of battle once roused within me, I took keen delight in
the fray, and that my fighting was noted by the Kaolians was often
evidenced by the shouts of applause directed at me.
If I sometimes seem to take too great pride in my fighting ability, it
must be remembered that fighting is my vocation. If your vocation be
shoeing horses, or painting pictures, and you can do one or the other
better than your fellows, then you are a fool if you are not proud of
your ability. And so I am very proud that upon two planets no greater
fighter has ever lived than John Carter, Prince of Helium.
And I outdid myself that day to impress the fact upon the natives of
Kaol, for I wished to win a way into their hearts—and their city. Nor
was I to be disappointed in my desire.
All day we fought, until the road was red with blood and clogged with
corpses. Back and forth along the slippery highway the tide of battle
surged, but never once was the gateway to Kaol really in danger.
There were breathing spells when I had a chance to converse with the
red men beside whom I fought, and once the jeddak, Kulan Tith himself,
laid his hand upon my shoulder and asked my name.
“I am Dotar Sojat,” I replied, recalling a name given me by the Tharks
many years before, from the surnames of the first two of their warriors
I had killed, which is the custom among them.
“You are a mighty warrior, Dotar Sojat,” he replied, “and when this day
is done I shall speak with you again in the great audience chamber.”
And then the fight surged upon us once more and we were separated, but
my heart’s desire was attained, and it was with renewed vigor and a
joyous soul that I laid about me with my long-sword until the last of
the green men had had enough and had withdrawn toward their distant sea
bottom.
Not until the battle was over did I learn why the red troops had
sallied forth that day. It seemed that Kulan Tith was expecting a visit
from a mighty jeddak of the north—a powerful and the only ally of the
Kaolians, and it had been his wish to meet his guest a full day’s
journey from Kaol.
But now the march of the welcoming host was delayed until the following
morning, when the troops again set out from Kaol. I had not been bidden
to the presence of Kulan Tith after the battle, but he had sent an
officer to find me and escort me to comfortable quarters in that part
of the palace set aside for the officers of the royal guard.
There, with Woola, I had spent a comfortable night, and rose much
refreshed after the arduous labors of the past few days. Woola had
fought with me through the battle of the previous day, true to the
instincts and training of a Martian war dog, great numbers of which are
often to be found with the savage green hordes of the dead sea bottoms.
Neither of us had come through the conflict unscathed, but the
marvelous, healing salves of Barsoom had sufficed, overnight, to make
us as good as new.
I breakfasted with a number of the Kaolian officers, whom I found as
courteous and delightful hosts as even the nobles of Helium, who are
renowned for their ease of manners and excellence of breeding. The meal
was scarcely concluded when a messenger arrived from Kulan Tith
summoning me before him.
As I entered the royal presence the jeddak rose, and stepping from the
dais which supported his magnificent throne, came forward to meet me—a
mark of distinction that is seldom accorded to other than a visiting
ruler.
“Kaor, Dotar Sojat!” he greeted me. “I have summoned you to receive the
grateful thanks of the people of Kaol, for had it not been for your
heroic bravery in daring fate to warn us of the ambuscade we must
surely have fallen into the well-laid trap. Tell me more of
yourself—from what country you come, and what errand brings you to the
court of Kulan Tith.”
“I am from Hastor,” I said, for in truth I had a small palace in that
southern city which lies within the far-flung dominions of the
Heliumetic nation.
“My presence in the land of Kaol is partly due to accident, my flier
being wrecked upon the southern fringe of your great forest. It was
while seeking entrance to the city of Kaol that I discovered the green
horde lying in wait for your troops.”
If Kulan Tith wondered what business brought me in a flier to the very
edge of his domain he was good enough not to press me further for an
explanation, which I should indeed have had difficulty in rendering.
During my audience with the jeddak another party entered the chamber
from behind me, so that I did not see their faces until Kulan Tith
stepped past me to greet them, commanding me to follow and be
presented.
As I turned toward them it was with difficulty that I controlled my
features, for there, listening to Kulan Tith’s eulogistic words
concerning me, stood my arch-enemies, Matai Shang and Thurid.
“Holy Hekkador of the Holy Therns,” the jeddak was saying, “shower thy
blessings upon Dotar Sojat, the valorous stranger from distant Hastor,
whose wondrous heroism and marvelous ferocity saved the day for Kaol
yesterday.”
Matai Shang stepped forward and laid his hand upon my shoulder. No
slightest indication that he recognized me showed upon his
countenance—my disguise was evidently complete.
He spoke kindly to me and then presented me to Thurid. The black, too,
was evidently entirely deceived. Then Kulan Tith regaled them, much to
my amusement, with details of my achievements upon the field of battle.
The thing that seemed to have impressed him most was my remarkable
agility, and time and again he described the wondrous way in which I
had leaped completely over an antagonist, cleaving his skull wide open
with my long-sword as I passed above him.
I thought that I saw Thurid’s eyes widen a bit during the narrative,
and several times I surprised him gazing intently into my face through
narrowed lids. Was he commencing to suspect? And then Kulan Tith told
of the savage calot that fought beside me, and after that I saw
suspicion in the eyes of Matai Shang—or did I but imagine it?
At the close of the audience Kulan Tith announced that he would have me
accompany him upon the way to meet his royal guest, and as I departed
with an officer who was to procure proper trappings and a suitable
mount for me, both Matai Shang and Thurid seemed most sincere in
professing their pleasure at having had an opportunity to know me. It
was with a sigh of relief that I quitted the chamber, convinced that
nothing more than a guilty conscience had prompted my belief that
either of my enemies suspected my true identity.
A half-hour later I rode out of the city gate with the column that
accompanied Kulan Tith upon the way to meet his friend and ally. Though
my eyes and ears had been wide open during my audience with the jeddak
and my various passages through the palace, I had seen or heard nothing
of Dejah Thoris or Thuvia of Ptarth. That they must be somewhere within
the great rambling edifice I was positive, and I should have given much
to have found a way to remain behind during Kulan Tith’s absence, that
I might search for them.
Toward noon we came in touch with the head of the column we had set out
to meet.
It was a gorgeous train that accompanied the visiting jeddak, and for
miles it stretched along the wide, white road to Kaol. Mounted troops,
their trappings of jewel and metal-incrusted leather glistening in the
sunlight, formed the vanguard of the body, and then came a thousand
gorgeous chariots drawn by huge zitidars.
These low, commodious wagons moved two abreast, and on either side of
them marched solid ranks of mounted warriors, for in the chariots were
the women and children of the royal court. Upon the back of each
monster zitidar rode a Martian youth, and the whole scene carried me
back to my first days upon Barsoom, now twenty-two years in the past,
when I had first beheld the gorgeous spectacle of a caravan of the
green horde of Tharks.
Never before today had I seen zitidars in the service of red men. These
brutes are huge mastodonian animals that tower to an immense height
even beside the giant green men and their giant thoats; but when
compared to the relatively small red man and his breed of thoats they
assume Brobdingnagian proportions that are truly appalling.
The beasts were hung with jeweled trappings and saddlepads of gay silk,
embroidered in fanciful designs with strings of diamonds, pearls,
rubies, emeralds, and the countless unnamed jewels of Mars, while from
each chariot rose a dozen standards from which streamers, flags, and
pennons fluttered in the breeze.
Just in front of the chariots the visiting jeddak rode alone upon a
pure white thoat—another unusual sight upon Barsoom—and after them came
interminable ranks of mounted spearmen, riflemen, and swordsmen. It was
indeed a most imposing sight.
Except for the clanking of accouterments and the occasional squeal of
an angry thoat or the low guttural of a zitidar, the passage of the
cavalcade was almost noiseless, for neither thoat nor zitidar is a
hoofed animal, and the broad tires of the chariots are of an elastic
composition, which gives forth no sound.
Now and then the gay laughter of a woman or the chatter of children
could be heard, for the red Martians are a social, pleasure-loving
people—in direct antithesis to the cold and morbid race of green men.
The forms and ceremonials connected with the meeting of the two jeddaks
consumed an hour, and then we turned and retraced our way toward the
city of Kaol, which the head of the column reached just before dark,
though it must have been nearly morning before the rear guard passed
through the gateway.
Fortunately, I was well up toward the head of the column, and after the
great banquet, which I attended with the officers of the royal guard, I
was free to seek repose. There was so much activity and bustle about
the palace all during the night with the constant arrival of the noble
officers of the visiting jeddak’s retinue that I dared not attempt to
prosecute a search for Dejah Thoris, and so, as soon as it was seemly
for me to do so, I returned to my quarters.
As I passed along the corridors between the banquet hall and the
apartments that had been allotted me, I had a sudden feeling that I was
under surveillance, and, turning quickly in my tracks, caught a glimpse
of a figure which darted into an open doorway the instant I wheeled
about.
Though I ran quickly back to the spot where the shadower had
disappeared I could find no trace of him, yet in the brief glimpse that
I had caught I could have sworn that I had seen a white face surmounted
by a mass of yellow hair.
The incident gave me considerable food for speculation, since if I were
right in the conclusion induced by the cursory glimpse I had had of the
spy, then Matai Shang and Thurid must suspect my identity, and if that
were true not even the service I had rendered Kulan Tith could save me
from his religious fanaticism.
But never did vague conjecture or fruitless fears for the future lie
with sufficient weight upon my mind to keep me from my rest, and so
tonight I threw myself upon my sleeping silks and furs and passed at
once into dreamless slumber.
Calots are not permitted within the walls of the palace proper, and so
I had had to relegate poor Woola to quarters in the stables where the
royal thoats are kept. He had comfortable, even luxurious apartments,
but I would have given much to have had him with me; and if he had
been, the thing which happened that night would not have come to pass.
I could not have slept over a quarter of an hour when I was suddenly
awakened by the passing of some cold and clammy thing across my
forehead. Instantly I sprang to my feet, clutching in the direction I
thought the presence lay. For an instant my hand touched against human
flesh, and then, as I lunged headforemost through the darkness to seize
my nocturnal visitor, my foot became entangled in my sleeping silks and
I fell sprawling to the floor.
By the time I had resumed my feet and found the button which controlled
the light my caller had disappeared. Careful search of the room
revealed nothing to explain either the identity or business of the
person who had thus secretly sought me in the dead of night.
That the purpose might be theft I could not believe, since thieves are
practically unknown upon Barsoom. Assassination, however, is rampant,
but even this could not have been the motive of my stealthy friend, for
he might easily have killed me had he desired.
I had about given up fruitless conjecture and was on the point of
returning to sleep when a dozen Kaolian guardsmen entered my apartment.
The officer in charge was one of my genial hosts of the morning, but
now upon his face was no sign of friendship.
“Kulan Tith commands your presence before him,” he said. “Come!”