The public houses of Barsoom, I have found, vary but little. There is
no privacy for other than married couples.
Men without their wives are escorted to a large chamber, the floor of
which is usually of white marble or heavy glass, kept scrupulously
clean. Here are many small, raised platforms for the guest’s sleeping
silks and furs, and if he have none of his own clean, fresh ones are
furnished at a nominal charge.
Once a man’s belongings have been deposited upon one of these platforms
he is a guest of the house, and that platform his own until he leaves.
No one will disturb or molest his belongings, as there are no thieves
upon Mars.
As assassination is the one thing to be feared, the proprietors of the
hostelries furnish armed guards, who pace back and forth through the
sleeping-rooms day and night. The number of guards and gorgeousness of
their trappings quite usually denote the status of the hotel.
No meals are served in these houses, but generally a public eating
place adjoins them. Baths are connected with the sleeping chambers, and
each guest is required to bathe daily or depart from the hotel.
Usually on a second or third floor there is a large sleeping-room for
single women guests, but its appointments do not vary materially from
the chamber occupied by men. The guards who watch the women remain in
the corridor outside the sleeping chamber, while female slaves pace
back and forth among the sleepers within, ready to notify the warriors
should their presence be required.
I was surprised to note that all the guards with the hotel at which we
stopped were red men, and on inquiring of one of them I learned that
they were slaves purchased by the proprietors of the hotels from the
government. The man whose post was past my sleeping platform had been
commander of the navy of a great Martian nation; but fate had carried
his flagship across the ice-barrier within the radius of power of the
magnetic shaft, and now for many tedious years he had been a slave of
the yellow men.
He told me that princes, jeds, and even jeddaks of the outer world,
were among the menials who served the yellow race; but when I asked him
if he had heard of the fate of Mors Kajak or Tardos Mors he shook his
head, saying that he never had heard of their being prisoners here,
though he was very familiar with the reputations and fame they bore in
the outer world.
Neither had he heard any rumor of the coming of the Father of Therns
and the black dator of the First Born, but he hastened to explain that
he knew little of what took place within the palace. I could see that
he wondered not a little that a yellow man should be so inquisitive
about certain red prisoners from beyond the ice-barrier, and that I
should be so ignorant of customs and conditions among my own race.
In fact, I had forgotten my disguise upon discovering a red man pacing
before my sleeping platform; but his growing expression of surprise
warned me in time, for I had no mind to reveal my identity to any
unless some good could come of it, and I did not see how this poor
fellow could serve me yet, though I had it in my mind that later I
might be the means of serving him and all the other thousands of
prisoners who do the bidding of their stern masters in Kadabra.
Thuvan Dihn and I discussed our plans as we sat together among our
sleeping silks and furs that night in the midst of the hundreds of
yellow men who occupied the apartment with us. We spoke in low
whispers, but, as that is only what courtesy demands in a public
sleeping place, we roused no suspicion.
At last, determining that all must be but idle speculation until after
we had had a chance to explore the city and attempt to put into
execution the plan Talu had suggested, we bade each other good night
and turned to sleep.
After breakfasting the following morning we set out to see Kadabra, and
as, through the generosity of the prince of Marentina, we were well
supplied with the funds current in Okar we purchased a handsome ground
flier. Having learned to drive them while in Marentina, we spent a
delightful and profitable day exploring the city, and late in the
afternoon at the hour Talu told us we would find government officials
in their offices, we stopped before a magnificent building on the plaza
opposite the royal grounds and the palace.
Here we walked boldly in past the armed guard at the door, to be met by
a red slave within who asked our wishes.
“Tell Sorav, your master, that two warriors from Illall wish to take
service in the palace guard,” I said.
Sorav, Talu had told us, was the commander of the forces of the palace,
and as men from the further cities of Okar—and especially Illall—were
less likely to be tainted with the germ of intrigue which had for years
infected the household of Salensus Oll, he was sure that we would be
welcomed and few questions asked us.
He had primed us with such general information as he thought would be
necessary for us to pass muster before Sorav, after which we would have
to undergo a further examination before Salensus Oll that he might
determine our physical fitness and our ability as warriors.
The little experience we had had with the strange hooked sword of the
yellow man and his cuplike shield made it seem rather unlikely that
either of us could pass this final test, but there was the chance that
we might be quartered in the palace of Salensus Oll for several days
after being accepted by Sorav before the Jeddak of Jeddaks would find
time to put us to the final test.
After a wait of several minutes in an ante-chamber we were summoned
into the private office of Sorav, where we were courteously greeted by
this ferocious-appearing, black-bearded officer. He asked us our names
and stations in our own city, and having received replies that were
evidently satisfactory to him, he put certain questions to us that Talu
had foreseen and prepared us for.
The interview could not have lasted over ten minutes when Sorav
summoned an aid whom he instructed to record us properly, and then
escort us to the quarters in the palace which are set aside for
aspirants to membership in the palace guard.
The aid took us to his own office first, where he measured and weighed
and photographed us simultaneously with a machine ingeniously devised
for that purpose, five copies being instantly reproduced in five
different offices of the government, two of which are located in other
cities miles distant. Then he led us through the palace grounds to the
main guardroom of the palace, there turning us over to the officer in
charge.
This individual again questioned us briefly, and finally despatched a
soldier to guide us to our quarters. These we found located upon the
second floor of the palace in a semi-detached tower at the rear of the
edifice.
When we asked our guide why we were quartered so far from the guardroom
he replied that the custom of the older members of the guard of picking
quarrels with aspirants to try their metal had resulted in so many
deaths that it was found difficult to maintain the guard at its full
strength while this custom prevailed. Salensus Oll had, therefore, set
apart these quarters for aspirants, and here they were securely locked
against the danger of attack by members of the guard.
This unwelcome information put a sudden check to all our well-laid
plans, for it meant that we should virtually be prisoners in the palace
of Salensus Oll until the time that he should see fit to give us the
final examination for efficiency.
As it was this interval upon which we had banked to accomplish so much
in our search for Dejah Thoris and Thuvia of Ptarth, our chagrin was
unbounded when we heard the great lock click behind our guide as he had
quitted us after ushering us into the chambers we were to occupy.
With a wry face I turned to Thuvan Dihn. My companion but shook his
head disconsolately and walked to one of the windows upon the far side
of the apartment.
Scarcely had he gazed beyond them than he called to me in a tone of
suppressed excitement and surprise. In an instant I was by his side.
“Look!” said Thuvan Dihn, pointing toward the courtyard below.
As my eyes followed the direction indicated I saw two women pacing back
and forth in an enclosed garden.
At the same moment I recognized them—they were Dejah Thoris and Thuvia
of Ptarth!
There were they whom I had trailed from one pole to another, the length
of a world. Only ten feet of space and a few metal bars separated me
from them.
With a cry I attracted their attention, and as Dejah Thoris looked up
full into my eyes I made the sign of love that the men of Barsoom make
to their women.
To my astonishment and horror her head went high, and as a look of
utter contempt touched her finely chiseled features she turned her back
full upon me. My body is covered with the scars of a thousand
conflicts, but never in all my long life have I suffered such anguish
from a wound, for this time the steel of a woman’s look had entered my
heart.
With a groan I turned away and buried my face in my arms. I heard
Thuvan Dihn call aloud to Thuvia, but an instant later his exclamation
of surprise betokened that he, too, had been repulsed by his own
daughter.
“They will not even listen,” he cried to me. “They have put their hands
over their ears and walked to the farther end of the garden. Ever heard
you of such mad work, John Carter? The two must be bewitched.”
Presently I mustered the courage to return to the window, for even
though she spurned me I loved her, and could not keep my eyes from
feasting upon her divine face and figure, but when she saw me looking
she again turned away.
I was at my wit’s end to account for her strange actions, and that
Thuvia, too, had turned against her father seemed incredible. Could it
be that my incomparable princess still clung to the hideous faith from
which I had rescued her world? Could it be that she looked upon me with
loathing and contempt because I had returned from the Valley Dor, or
because I had desecrated the temples and persons of the Holy Therns?
To naught else could I ascribe her strange deportment, yet it seemed
far from possible that such could be the case, for the love of Dejah
Thoris for John Carter had been a great and wondrous love—far above
racial distinctions, creed, or religion.
As I gazed ruefully at the back of her haughty, royal head a gate at
the opposite end of the garden opened and a man entered. As he did so
he turned and slipped something into the hand of the yellow guardsman
beyond the gate, nor was the distance too great that I might not see
that money had passed between them.
Instantly I knew that this newcomer had bribed his way within the
garden. Then he turned in the direction of the two women, and I saw
that he was none other than Thurid, the black dator of the First Born.
He approached quite close to them before he spoke, and as they turned
at the sound of his voice I saw Dejah Thoris shrink from him.
There was a nasty leer upon his face as he stepped close to her and
spoke again. I could not hear his words, but her answer came clearly.
“The granddaughter of Tardos Mors can always die,” she said, “but she
could never live at the price you name.”
Then I saw the black scoundrel go upon his knees beside her, fairly
groveling in the dirt, pleading with her. Only part of what he said
came to me, for though he was evidently laboring under the stress of
passion and excitement, it was equally apparent that he did not dare
raise his voice for fear of detection.
“I would save you from Matai Shang,” I heard him say. “You know the
fate that awaits you at his hands. Would you not choose me rather than
the other?”
“I would choose neither,” replied Dejah Thoris, “even were I free to
choose, as you know well I am not.”
“You ARE free!” he cried. “John Carter, Prince of Helium, is dead.”
“I know better than that; but even were he dead, and I must needs
choose another mate, it should be a plant man or a great white ape in
preference to either Matai Shang or you, black calot,” she answered
with a sneer of contempt.
Of a sudden the vicious beast lost all control of himself, as with a
vile oath he leaped at the slender woman, gripping her tender throat in
his brute clutch. Thuvia screamed and sprang to aid her
fellow-prisoner, and at the same instant I, too, went mad, and tearing
at the bars that spanned my window I ripped them from their sockets as
they had been but copper wire.
Hurling myself through the aperture I reached the garden, but a hundred
feet from where the black was choking the life from my Dejah Thoris,
and with a single great bound I was upon him. I spoke no word as I tore
his defiling fingers from that beautiful throat, nor did I utter a
sound as I hurled him twenty feet from me.
Foaming with rage, Thurid regained his feet and charged me like a mad
bull.
“Yellow man,” he shrieked, “you knew not upon whom you had laid your
vile hands, but ere I am done with you, you will know well what it
means to offend the person of a First Born.”
Then he was upon me, reaching for my throat, and precisely as I had
done that day in the courtyard of the Temple of Issus I did here in the
garden of the palace of Salensus Oll. I ducked beneath his outstretched
arms, and as he lunged past me I planted a terrific right upon the side
of his jaw.
Just as he had done upon that other occasion he did now. Like a top he
spun round, his knees gave beneath him, and he crumpled to the ground
at my feet. Then I heard a voice behind me.
It was the deep voice of authority that marks the ruler of men, and
when I turned to face the resplendent figure of a giant yellow man I
did not need to ask to know that it was Salensus Oll. At his right
stood Matai Shang, and behind them a score of guardsmen.
“Who are you,” he cried, “and what means this intrusion within the
precincts of the women’s garden? I do not recall your face. How came
you here?”
But for his last words I should have forgotten my disguise entirely and
told him outright that I was John Carter, Prince of Helium; but his
question recalled me to myself. I pointed to the dislodged bars of the
window above.
“I am an aspirant to membership in the palace guard,” I said, “and from
yonder window in the tower where I was confined awaiting the final test
for fitness I saw this brute attack the—this woman. I could not stand
idly by, O Jeddak, and see this thing done within the very palace
grounds, and yet feel that I was fit to serve and guard your royal
person.”
I had evidently made an impression upon the ruler of Okar by my fair
words, and when he had turned to Dejah Thoris and Thuvia of Ptarth, and
both had corroborated my statements it began to look pretty dark for
Thurid.
I saw the ugly gleam in Matai Shang’s evil eyes as Dejah Thoris
narrated all that had passed between Thurid and herself, and when she
came to that part which dealt with my interference with the dator of
the First Born her gratitude was quite apparent, though I could see by
her eyes that something puzzled her strangely.
I did not wonder at her attitude toward me while others were present;
but that she should have denied me while she and Thuvia were the only
occupants of the garden still cut me sorely.
As the examination proceeded I cast a glance at Thurid and startled him
looking wide-eyed and wonderingly at me, and then of a sudden he
laughed full in my face.
A moment later Salensus Oll turned toward the black.
“What have you to say in explanation of these charges?” he asked in a
deep and terrible voice. “Dare you aspire to one whom the Father of
Therns has chosen—one who might even be a fit mate for the Jeddak of
Jeddaks himself?”
And then the black-bearded tyrant turned and cast a sudden greedy look
upon Dejah Thoris, as though with the words a new thought and a new
desire had sprung up within his mind and breast.
Thurid had been about to reply and, with a malicious grin upon his
face, was pointing an accusing finger at me, when Salensus Oll’s words
and the expression of his face cut him short.
A cunning look crept into his eyes, and I knew from the expression of
his face that his next words were not the ones he had intended to
speak.
“O Mightiest of Jeddaks,” he said, “the man and the women do not speak
the truth. The fellow had come into the garden to assist them to
escape. I was beyond and overheard their conversation, and when I
entered, the woman screamed and the man sprang upon me and would have
killed me.
“What know you of this man? He is a stranger to you, and I dare say
that you will find him an enemy and a spy. Let him be put on trial,
Salensus Oll, rather than your friend and guest, Thurid, Dator of the
First Born.”
Salensus Oll looked puzzled. He turned again and looked upon Dejah
Thoris, and then Thurid stepped quite close to him and whispered
something in his ear—what, I know not.
Presently the yellow ruler turned to one of his officers.
“See that this man be securely confined until we have time to go deeper
into this affair,” he commanded, “and as bars alone seem inadequate to
restrain him, let chains be added.”
Then he turned and left the garden, taking Dejah Thoris with him—his
hand upon her shoulder. Thurid and Matai Shang went also, and as they
reached the gateway the black turned and laughed again aloud in my
face.
What could be the meaning of his sudden change toward me? Could he
suspect my true identity? It must be that, and the thing that had
betrayed me was the trick and blow that had laid him low for the second
time.
As the guards dragged me away my heart was very sad and bitter indeed,
for now to the two relentless enemies that had hounded her for so long
another and a more powerful one had been added, for I would have been
but a fool had I not recognized the sudden love for Dejah Thoris that
had just been born in the terrible breast of Salensus Oll, Jeddak of
Jeddaks, ruler of Okar.