Surrounded by guardsmen I marched back along the corridors of the
palace of Kulan Tith, Jeddak of Kaol, to the great audience chamber in
the center of the massive structure.
As I entered the brilliantly lighted apartment, filled with the nobles
of Kaol and the officers of the visiting jeddak, all eyes were turned
upon me. Upon the great dais at the end of the chamber stood three
thrones, upon which sat Kulan Tith and his two guests, Matai Shang, and
the visiting jeddak.
Up the broad center aisle we marched beneath deadly silence, and at the
foot of the thrones we halted.
“Prefer thy charge,” said Kulan Tith, turning to one who stood among
the nobles at his right; and then Thurid, the black dator of the First
Born, stepped forward and faced me.
“Most noble Jeddak,” he said, addressing Kulan Tith, “from the first I
suspected this stranger within thy palace. Your description of his
fiendish prowess tallied with that of the arch-enemy of truth upon
Barsoom.
“But that there might be no mistake I despatched a priest of your own
holy cult to make the test that should pierce his disguise and reveal
the truth. Behold the result!” and Thurid pointed a rigid finger at my
forehead.
All eyes followed the direction of that accusing digit—I alone seemed
at a loss to guess what fatal sign rested upon my brow.
The officer beside me guessed my perplexity; and as the brows of Kulan
Tith darkened in a menacing scowl as his eyes rested upon me, the noble
drew a small mirror from his pocket-pouch and held it before my face.
One glance at the reflection it gave back to me was sufficient.
From my forehead the hand of the sneaking thern had reached out through
the concealing darkness of my bed-chamber and wiped away a patch of the
disguising red pigment as broad as my palm. Beneath showed the tanned
texture of my own white skin.
For a moment Thurid ceased speaking, to enhance, I suspect, the
dramatic effect of his disclosure. Then he resumed.
“Here, O Kulan Tith,” he cried, “is he who has desecrated the temples
of the Gods of Mars, who has violated the persons of the Holy Therns
themselves and turned a world against its age-old religion. Before you,
in your power, Jeddak of Kaol, Defender of the Holies, stands John
Carter, Prince of Helium!”
Kulan Tith looked toward Matai Shang as though for corroboration of
these charges. The Holy Thern nodded his head.
“It is indeed the arch-blasphemer,” he said. “Even now he has followed
me to the very heart of thy palace, Kulan Tith, for the sole purpose of
assassinating me. He—”
“He lies!” I cried. “Kulan Tith, listen that you may know the truth.
Listen while I tell you why John Carter has followed Matai Shang to the
heart of thy palace. Listen to me as well as to them, and then judge if
my acts be not more in accord with true Barsoomian chivalry and honor
than those of these revengeful devotees of the spurious creeds from
whose cruel bonds I have freed your planet.”
“Silence!” roared the jeddak, leaping to his feet and laying his hand
upon the hilt of his sword. “Silence, blasphemer! Kulan Tith need not
permit the air of his audience chamber to be defiled by the heresies
that issue from your polluted throat to judge you.
“You stand already self-condemned. It but remains to determine the
manner of your death. Even the service that you rendered the arms of
Kaol shall avail you naught; it was but a base subterfuge whereby you
might win your way into my favor and reach the side of this holy man
whose life you craved. To the pits with him!” he concluded, addressing
the officer of my guard.
Here was a pretty pass, indeed! What chance had I against a whole
nation? What hope for me of mercy at the hands of the fanatical Kulan
Tith with such advisers as Matai Shang and Thurid. The black grinned
malevolently in my face.
“You shall not escape this time, Earth man,” he taunted.
The guards closed toward me. A red haze blurred my vision. The fighting
blood of my Virginian sires coursed hot through my veins. The lust of
battle in all its mad fury was upon me.
With a leap I was beside Thurid, and ere the devilish smirk had faded
from his handsome face I had caught him full upon the mouth with my
clenched fist; and as the good, old American blow landed, the black
dator shot back a dozen feet, to crumple in a heap at the foot of Kulan
Tith’s throne, spitting blood and teeth from his hurt mouth.
Then I drew my sword and swung round, on guard, to face a nation.
In an instant the guardsmen were upon me, but before a blow had been
struck a mighty voice rose above the din of shouting warriors, and a
giant figure leaped from the dais beside Kulan Tith and, with drawn
long-sword, threw himself between me and my adversaries.
It was the visiting jeddak.
“Hold!” he cried. “If you value my friendship, Kulan Tith, and the
age-old peace that has existed between our peoples, call off your
swordsmen; for wherever or against whomsoever fights John Carter,
Prince of Helium, there beside him and to the death fights Thuvan Dihn,
Jeddak of Ptarth.”
The shouting ceased and the menacing points were lowered as a thousand
eyes turned first toward Thuvan Dihn in surprise and then toward Kulan
Tith in question. At first the Jeddak of Kaol went white in rage, but
before he spoke he had mastered himself, so that his tone was calm and
even as befitted intercourse between two great jeddaks.
“Thuvan Dihn,” he said slowly, “must have great provocation thus to
desecrate the ancient customs which inspire the deportment of a guest
within the palace of his host. Lest I, too, should forget myself as has
my royal friend, I should prefer to remain silent until the Jeddak of
Ptarth has won from me applause for his action by relating the causes
which provoked it.”
I could see that the Jeddak of Ptarth was of half a mind to throw his
metal in Kulan Tith’s face, but he controlled himself even as well as
had his host.
“None knows better than Thuvan Dihn,” he said, “the laws which govern
the acts of men in the domains of their neighbors; but Thuvan Dihn owes
allegiance to a higher law than these—the law of gratitude. Nor to any
man upon Barsoom does he owe a greater debt of gratitude than to John
Carter, Prince of Helium.
“Years ago, Kulan Tith,” he continued, “upon the occasion of your last
visit to me, you were greatly taken with the charms and graces of my
only daughter, Thuvia. You saw how I adored her, and later you learned
that, inspired by some unfathomable whim, she had taken the last, long,
voluntary pilgrimage upon the cold bosom of the mysterious Iss, leaving
me desolate.
“Some months ago I first heard of the expedition which John Carter had
led against Issus and the Holy Therns. Faint rumors of the atrocities
reported to have been committed by the therns upon those who for
countless ages have floated down the mighty Iss came to my ears.
“I heard that thousands of prisoners had been released, few of whom
dared to return to their own countries owing to the mandate of terrible
death which rests against all who return from the Valley Dor.
“For a time I could not believe the heresies which I heard, and I
prayed that my daughter Thuvia might have died before she ever
committed the sacrilege of returning to the outer world. But then my
father’s love asserted itself, and I vowed that I would prefer eternal
damnation to further separation from her if she could be found.
“So I sent emissaries to Helium, and to the court of Xodar, Jeddak of
the First Born, and to him who now rules those of the thern nation that
have renounced their religion; and from each and all I heard the same
story of unspeakable cruelties and atrocities perpetrated upon the poor
defenseless victims of their religion by the Holy Therns.
“Many there were who had seen or known my daughter, and from therns who
had been close to Matai Shang I learned of the indignities that he
personally heaped upon her; and I was glad when I came here to find
that Matai Shang was also your guest, for I should have sought him out
had it taken a lifetime.
“More, too, I heard, and that of the chivalrous kindness that John
Carter had accorded my daughter. They told me how he fought for her and
rescued her, and how he spurned escape from the savage Warhoons of the
south, sending her to safety upon his own thoat and remaining upon foot
to meet the green warriors.
“Can you wonder, Kulan Tith, that I am willing to jeopardize my life,
the peace of my nation, or even your friendship, which I prize more
than aught else, to champion the Prince of Helium?”
For a moment Kulan Tith was silent. I could see by the expression of
his face that he was sore perplexed. Then he spoke.
“Thuvan Dihn,” he said, and his tone was friendly though sad, “who am I
to judge my fellow-man? In my eyes the Father of Therns is still holy,
and the religion which he teaches the only true religion, but were I
faced by the same problem that has vexed you I doubt not that I should
feel and act precisely as you have.
“In so far as the Prince of Helium is concerned I may act, but between
you and Matai Shang my only office can be one of conciliation. The
Prince of Helium shall be escorted in safety to the boundary of my
domain ere the sun has set again, where he shall be free to go whither
he will; but upon pain of death must he never again enter the land of
Kaol.
“If there be a quarrel between you and the Father of Therns, I need not
ask that the settlement of it be deferred until both have passed beyond
the limits of my power. Are you satisfied, Thuvan Dihn?”
The Jeddak of Ptarth nodded his assent, but the ugly scowl that he bent
upon Matai Shang harbored ill for that pasty-faced godling.
“The Prince of Helium is far from satisfied,” I cried, breaking rudely
in upon the beginnings of peace, for I had no stomach for peace at the
price that had been named.
“I have escaped death in a dozen forms to follow Matai Shang and
overtake him, and I do not intend to be led, like a decrepit thoat to
the slaughter, from the goal that I have won by the prowess of my sword
arm and the might of my muscles.
“Nor will Thuvan Dihn, Jeddak of Ptarth, be satisfied when he has heard
me through. Do you know why I have followed Matai Shang and Thurid, the
black dator, from the forests of the Valley Dor across half a world
through almost insurmountable difficulties?
“Think you that John Carter, Prince of Helium, would stoop to
assassination? Can Kulan Tith be such a fool as to believe that lie,
whispered in his ear by the Holy Thern or Dator Thurid?
“I do not follow Matai Shang to kill him, though the God of mine own
planet knows that my hands itch to be at his throat. I follow him,
Thuvan Dihn, because with him are two prisoners—my wife, Dejah Thoris,
Princess of Helium, and your daughter, Thuvia of Ptarth.
“Now think you that I shall permit myself to be led beyond the walls of
Kaol unless the mother of my son accompanies me, and thy daughter be
restored?”
Thuvan Dihn turned upon Kulan Tith. Rage flamed in his keen eyes; but
by the masterfulness of his self-control he kept his tones level as he
spoke.
“Knew you this thing, Kulan Tith?” he asked. “Knew you that my daughter
lay a prisoner in your palace?”
“He could not know it,” interrupted Matai Shang, white with what I am
sure was more fear than rage. “He could not know it, for it is a lie.”
I would have had his life for that upon the spot, but even as I sprang
toward him Thuvan Dihn laid a heavy hand upon my shoulder.
“Wait,” he said to me, and then to Kulan Tith. “It is not a lie. This
much have I learned of the Prince of Helium—he does not lie. Answer me,
Kulan Tith—I have asked you a question.”
“Three women came with the Father of Therns,” replied Kulan Tith.
“Phaidor, his daughter, and two who were reported to be her slaves. If
these be Thuvia of Ptarth and Dejah Thoris of Helium I did not know
it—I have seen neither. But if they be, then shall they be returned to
you on the morrow.”
As he spoke he looked straight at Matai Shang, not as a devotee should
look at a high priest, but as a ruler of men looks at one to whom he
issues a command.
It must have been plain to the Father of Therns, as it was to me, that
the recent disclosures of his true character had done much already to
weaken the faith of Kulan Tith, and that it would require but little
more to turn the powerful jeddak into an avowed enemy; but so strong
are the seeds of superstition that even the great Kaolian still
hesitated to cut the final strand that bound him to his ancient
religion.
Matai Shang was wise enough to seem to accept the mandate of his
follower, and promised to bring the two slave women to the audience
chamber on the morrow.
“It is almost morning now,” he said, “and I should dislike to break in
upon the slumber of my daughter, or I would have them fetched at once
that you might see that the Prince of Helium is mistaken,” and he
emphasized the last word in an effort to affront me so subtlely that I
could not take open offense.
I was about to object to any delay, and demand that the Princess of
Helium be brought to me forthwith, when Thuvan Dihn made such
insistence seem unnecessary.
“I should like to see my daughter at once,” he said, “but if Kulan Tith
will give me his assurance that none will be permitted to leave the
palace this night, and that no harm shall befall either Dejah Thoris or
Thuvia of Ptarth between now and the moment they are brought into our
presence in this chamber at daylight I shall not insist.”
“None shall leave the palace tonight,” replied the Jeddak of Kaol, “and
Matai Shang will give us assurance that no harm will come to the two
women?”
The thern assented with a nod. A few moments later Kulan Tith indicated
that the audience was at an end, and at Thuvan Dihn’s invitation I
accompanied the Jeddak of Ptarth to his own apartments, where we sat
until daylight, while he listened to the account of my experiences upon
his planet and to all that had befallen his daughter during the time
that we had been together.
I found the father of Thuvia a man after my own heart, and that night
saw the beginning of a friendship which has grown until it is second
only to that which obtains between Tars Tarkas, the green Jeddak of
Thark, and myself.
The first burst of Mars’s sudden dawn brought messengers from Kulan
Tith, summoning us to the audience chamber where Thuvan Dihn was to
receive his daughter after years of separation, and I was to be
reunited with the glorious daughter of Helium after an almost unbroken
separation of twelve years.
My heart pounded within my bosom until I looked about me in
embarrassment, so sure was I that all within the room must hear. My
arms ached to enfold once more the divine form of her whose eternal
youth and undying beauty were but outward manifestations of a perfect
soul.
At last the messenger despatched to fetch Matai Shang returned. I
craned my neck to catch the first glimpse of those who should be
following, but the messenger was alone.
Halting before the throne he addressed his jeddak in a voice that was
plainly audible to all within the chamber.
“O Kulan Tith, Mightiest of Jeddaks,” he cried, after the fashion of
the court, “your messenger returns alone, for when he reached the
apartments of the Father of Therns he found them empty, as were those
occupied by his suite.”
Kulan Tith went white.
A low groan burst from the lips of Thuvan Dihn who stood next me, not
having ascended the throne which awaited him beside his host. For a
moment the silence of death reigned in the great audience chamber of
Kulan Tith, Jeddak of Kaol. It was he who broke the spell.
Rising from his throne he stepped down from the dais to the side of
Thuvan Dihn. Tears dimmed his eyes as he placed both his hands upon the
shoulders of his friend.
“O Thuvan Dihn,” he cried, “that this should have happened in the
palace of thy best friend! With my own hands would I have wrung the
neck of Matai Shang had I guessed what was in his foul heart. Last
night my life-long faith was weakened—this morning it has been
shattered; but too late, too late.
“To wrest your daughter and the wife of this royal warrior from the
clutches of these archfiends you have but to command the resources of a
mighty nation, for all Kaol is at your disposal. What may be done? Say
the word!”
“First,” I suggested, “let us find those of your people who be
responsible for the escape of Matai Shang and his followers. Without
assistance on the part of the palace guard this thing could not have
come to pass. Seek the guilty, and from them force an explanation of
the manner of their going and the direction they have taken.”
Before Kulan Tith could issue the commands that would initiate the
investigation a handsome young officer stepped forward and addressed
his jeddak.
“O Kulan Tith, Mightiest of Jeddaks,” he said, “I alone be responsible
for this grievous error. Last night it was I who commanded the palace
guard. I was on duty in other parts of the palace during the audience
of the early morning, and knew nothing of what transpired then, so that
when the Father of Therns summoned me and explained that it was your
wish that his party be hastened from the city because of the presence
here of a deadly enemy who sought the Holy Hekkador’s life I did only
what a lifetime of training has taught me was the proper thing to do—I
obeyed him whom I believed to be the ruler of us all, mightier even
than thou, mightiest of jeddaks.
“Let the consequences and the punishment fall on me alone, for I alone
am guilty. Those others of the palace guard who assisted in the flight
did so under my instructions.”
Kulan Tith looked first at me and then at Thuvan Dihn, as though to ask
our judgment upon the man, but the error was so evidently excusable
that neither of us had any mind to see the young officer suffer for a
mistake that any might readily have made.
“How left they,” asked Thuvan Dihn, “and what direction did they take?”
“They left as they came,” replied the officer, “upon their own flier.
For some time after they had departed I watched the vessel’s lights,
which vanished finally due north.”
“Where north could Matai Shang find an asylum?” asked Thuvan Dihn of
Kulan Tith.
For some moments the Jeddak of Kaol stood with bowed head, apparently
deep in thought. Then a sudden light brightened his countenance.
“I have it!” he cried. “Only yesterday Matai Shang let drop a hint of
his destination, telling me of a race of people unlike ourselves who
dwell far to the north. They, he said, had always been known to the
Holy Therns and were devout and faithful followers of the ancient cult.
Among them would he find a perpetual haven of refuge, where no ‘lying
heretics’ might seek him out. It is there that Matai Shang has gone.”
“And in all Kaol there be no flier wherein to follow,” I cried.
“Nor nearer than Ptarth,” replied Thuvan Dihn.
“Wait!” I exclaimed, “beyond the southern fringe of this great forest
lies the wreck of the thern flier which brought me that far upon my
way. If you will loan me men to fetch it, and artificers to assist me,
I can repair it in two days, Kulan Tith.”
I had been more than half suspicious of the seeming sincerity of the
Kaolian jeddak’s sudden apostasy, but the alacrity with which he
embraced my suggestion, and the despatch with which a force of officers
and men were placed at my disposal entirely removed the last vestige of
my doubts.
Two days later the flier rested upon the top of the watchtower, ready
to depart. Thuvan Dihn and Kulan Tith had offered me the entire
resources of two nations—millions of fighting men were at my disposal;
but my flier could hold but one other than myself and Woola.
As I stepped aboard her, Thuvan Dihn took his place beside me. I cast a
look of questioning surprise upon him. He turned to the highest of his
own officers who had accompanied him to Kaol.
“To you I entrust the return of my retinue to Ptarth,” he said. “There
my son rules ably in my absence. The Prince of Helium shall not go
alone into the land of his enemies. I have spoken. Farewell!”