JOHN CARTER
Half an hour before the evening meal we carried Xaxa and Sag Or down the
spiral runway and placed them in the base of the Great Tur and Gor Hajus
and I took our places on the upper platform behind the eyes and voice of
the idol. Valla Dia, Dar Tarus and Hovan Du remained in the royal
apartments. Our plans were well formulated. There was no one between the
door at the rear of the Great Tur and the flier that lay ready on the
roof in the event that we were forced to flee through any miscarriage of
our mad scheme.
The minutes dragged slowly by and darkness fell. The time was
approaching. We heard the doors of the temple open and beyond we saw the
great corridor brilliantly lighted. It was empty except for two priests
who stood hesitating nervously in the doorway. Finally one of them
mustered up sufficient courage to enter and switch on the lights. More
bravely now they advanced and prostrated themselves before the altar of
the Great Tur. When they arose and looked up into the face of the idol I
could not resist the temptation to turn those huge eyes until they had
rolled completely about the interior of the chamber and rested again
upon the priests; but I did not speak and I think the effect of the
awful silence in the presence of the living god was more impressive than
would words have been. The two priests simply collapsed. They slid to
the floor and lay there trembling, moaning and supplicating Tur to have
mercy on them, nor did they rise before the first of the worshippers
arrived.
Thereafter the temple filled rapidly and I could see the word of Tur had
been well and thoroughly disseminated. They came as they had before; but
there were more this time, and they ranged upon either side of the
central aisle and there they waited, their eyes divided between the
doorway and the god. About the time that I thought the next scene was
about to be enacted I let Tur’s eyes travel over the assemblage that
they might be keyed to the proper pitch for what was to follow. They
reacted precisely as had the priests, falling upon the floor and moaning
and supplicating; and there they remained until the sounds of bugles
announced the coming of the Jeddara. Then they rose unsteadily to their
feet. The great doors swung open and there was the carpet and the slaves
behind it. As they rolled it down towards the altar the bugles sounded
louder and the head of the royal procession came into view. I had
ordered it thus to permit of greater pageantry than was possible when
the doors opened immediately upon the head of the procession. My plan
permitted the audience to see the royal retinue advancing down the long
corridor and the effect was splendid. First came the double rank of
nobles and behind these the chariot drawn by the two banths, bearing the
litter upon which reclined Valla Dia. Behind her walked Dar Tarus, but
all within that room thought they were looking upon the Jeddara Xaxa and
her favorite, Sag Or. Hovan Du walked behind Sag Or and following came
the fifty young men and the fifty maidens.
The chariot halted before the altar and Valla Dia descended and knelt
and the voices that had been chanting the praises of Xaxa were stilled
as the beautiful creature extended her hands towards the Great Tur and
looked up into his face.
“We are ready, Master!” she cried. “Speak! We await the word of Tur!”
A gasp arose from the kneeling assemblage, a gasp that ended in a sob. I
felt that they were pretty well worked up and that everything ought to
go off without a hitch. I placed the speaking-tube to my lips.
“I am Tur!” I thundered and the people trembled. “I come to pass
judgment on the men of Phundahl. As you receive my word so shall you
prosper or so shall you perish. The sins of the people may be atoned by
two who have sinned most in my sight.” I let the eyes of Tur rove about
over the audience and then brought them to rest upon Valla Dia. “Xaxa,
are you ready to atone for your sins and for the sins of your people?”
Valla Dia bowed her beautiful head. “Thy will is law, Master!” she
replied.
“And Sag Or,” I continued, “you have sinned. Are you prepared to pay?”
“As Tur shall require,” said Dar Tarus.
“Then it is my will,” I boomed, “that Xaxa and Sag Or shall give back to
those from whom they stole them, the beautiful bodies they now wear;
that he from whom Sag Or took this body shall become Jeddak of Phundahl
and High Priest of Tur; and that she from whom Xaxa stole her body shall
be returned in pomp to her native country. I have spoken. Let any who
would revolt against my word speak now or for ever hold his peace.”
There was no objection voiced. I had felt pretty certain that there
would not be. I doubt if any god ever looked down upon a more subdued
and chastened flock. As I had talked, Gor Hajus had descended to the
base of the idol and removed the bonds from the feet and legs of Xaxa
and Sag Or.
“Extinguish the lights!” I commanded. A trembling priest did my bidding.
Valla Dia and Dar Tarus were standing side by side before the altar when
the lights went out. In the next minute they and Gor Hajus must have
worked fast, for when I heard a low whistle from the interior of the
idol’s base, the prearranged signal that Gor Hajus had finished his
work, and ordered the lights on again, there stood Xaxa and Sag Or where
Valla Dia and Dar Tarus had been, and the latter were nowhere in sight.
I think the dramatic effect of that transformation upon the people there
was the most stupendous thing I have ever seen. There was no cord or gag
upon either Xaxa or Sag Or, nothing to indicate that they had been
brought hither by force—no one about who might have so brought them.
The illusion was perfect—it was a gesture of omnipotence that simply
staggered the intellect. But I wasn’t through.
“You have heard Xaxa renounce her throne,” I said, “and Sag Or submit to
the judgment of Tur.”
“I have not renounced my throne!” cried Xaxa. “It is all a——”
“Silence!” I thundered. “Prepare to greet the new Jeddak, Dar Tarus of
Phundahl!” I turned my eyes towards the great doors and the eyes of the
assemblage followed mine. They swung open and there stood Dar Tarus,
resplendent in the trappings of Hora San, the long dead Jeddak and high
priest, whose bones we had robbed in the base of the idol an hour
earlier. How Dar Tarus had managed to make the change so quickly is
beyond me, but he had done it and the effect was colossal. He looked
every inch a Jeddak as he moved with slow dignity up the wide aisle
along the blue and gold and white carpet. Xaxa turned purple with rage.
“Impostor!” she shrieked. “Seize him! Kill him!” and she ran forward to
meet him as though she would slay him with her bare hands.
“Take her away,” said Dar Tarus in a quiet voice, and at that Xaxa fell
foaming to the floor. She shrieked and gasped and then lay still—a
wicked old woman dead of apoplexy. And when Sag Or saw her lying there
he must have been the first to realize that she was dead and that there
was now no one to protect him from the hatreds that are leveled always
at the person of a ruler’s favorite. He looked wildly about for an
instant and then threw himself at the feet of Dar Tarus.
“You promised to protect me!” he cried.
“None shall harm you,” replied Dar Tarus. “Go your way and live in
peace.” Then he turned his eyes upward towards the face of the Great
Tur. “What is thy will, Master?” he cried. “Dar Tarus, thy servant,
awaits thy commands!”
I permitted an impressive silence before I replied.
“Let the priests of Tur, the lesser nobles and a certain number of the
Jeddak’s Guard go forth into the city and spread the word of Tur among
the people that they may know that Tur smiles again upon Phundahl and
that they have a new Jeddak who stands high in the favor of Tur. Let the
higher nobles attend presently in the chambers that were Xaxa’s and do
honor to Valla Dia in whose perfect body their Jeddara once ruled them,
and effect the necessary arrangements for her proper return to Duhor,
her native city. There also will they find two who have served Tur well
and these shall be accorded the hospitality and friendship of every
Phundahlian—Gor Hajus of Toonol and Vad Varo of Jasoom. Go! and when
the last has gone let the temple be darkened. I, Tur, have spoken!”
Valla Dia had gone directly to the apartments of the former Jeddara and
the moment that the lights were extinguished Gor Hajus and I joined her.
She could not wait to hear the outcome of our ruse, and when I assured
her that there had been no hitch the tears came to her eyes for very
joy.
“You have accomplished the impossible, my chieftain,” she murmured, “and
already can I see the hills of Duhor and the towers of my native city.
Ah, Vad Varo, I had not dreamed that life might again hold for me such
happy prospects. I owe you life and more than life.”
We were interrupted by the coming of Dar Tarus, and with him were Hovan
Du and a number of the higher nobles. The latter received us pleasantly,
though I think they were mystified as to just how we were linked with
the service of their god; nor, I am sure, did one of them ever learn.
They were frankly delighted to be rid of Xaxa; and while they could not
understand Tur’s purpose in elevating a former warrior of the Guard to
the throne, yet they were content if it served to relieve them from the
wrath of their god, now a very real and terrible god, since the miracles
that had been performed in the temple. That Dar Tarus had been of a
noble family relieved them of embarrassment, and I noted that they
treated him with great respect. I was positive that they would continue
to treat him so, for he was also high priest and for the first time in a
hundred years he would bring to the Great Tur in the royal Temple the
voice of god, for Hovan Du had agreed to take service with Dar Tarus,
and Gor Hajus as well, so that there would never be lacking a tongue
wherewith Tur might speak. I foresaw great possibilities for the reign
of Dar Tarus, Jeddak of Phundahl.
At the meeting held in the apartments of Xaxa it was decided that Valla
Dia should rest two days in Phundahl while a small fleet was preparing
to transport her to Duhor. Dar Tarus assigned Xaxa’s apartments for her
use and gave her slaves from different cities to attend upon her, all of
whom were to be freed and returned with Valla Dia to her native land.
It was almost dawn before we sought our sleeping silks and furs and the
sun was high before we awoke. Gor Hajus and I breakfasted with Valla
Dia, outside whose door we had spread our beds that we might not leave
her unprotected for a moment that it was not necessary. We had scarce
finished our meal when a messenger came from Dar Tarus summoning us to
the audience chamber, where we found some of the higher officers of the
court gathered about the throne upon which Dar Tarus sat, looking every
inch an emperor. He greeted us kindly, rising and descending from his
dais to receive Valla Dia and escort her to one of the benches he had
placed beside the throne for her and for me.
“There is one,” he said to me, “who has come to Phundahl over night and
now begs audience of the Jeddak—one whom I thought you might like to
meet again,” and he signed to one of his attendants to admit the
petitioner; and when the doors at the opposite end of the room opened I
saw Ras Thavas standing there. He did not recognize me or Valla Dia or
Gor Hajus until he was almost at the foot of the throne, and when he did
he looked puzzled and glanced again quickly at Dar Tarus.
“Ras Thavas of the Tower of Thavas, Toonol,” announced an officer.
“What would Ras Thavas of the Jeddak of Phundahl?” asked Dar Tarus.
“I came seeking audience of Xaxa,” replied Ras Thavas, “not knowing of
her death or your accession until this very morning; but I see Sag Or
upon Xaxa’s throne and beside him one whom I thought was Xaxa, though
they tell me Xaxa is dead, and another who was my assistant at Thavas
and one who is the Assassin of Toonol, and I am confused, Jeddak, and do
not know whether I be among friends or foes.”
“Speak as though Xaxa still sat upon the throne of Phundahl,” Dar Tarus
told him, “for though I am Dar Tarus, whom you wronged, and not Sag Or,
yet need you have no fear in the court of Phundahl.”
“Then let me tell you that Vobis Kan, Jeddak of Toonol, learning that
Gor Hajus had escaped me, swore that I had set him free to assassinate
him, and he sent warriors who took my island and would have imprisoned
me had I not been warned in time to escape; and I came hither to Xaxa to
beg her to send warriors to drive the men of Toonol from my island and
restore it to me that I may carry on my scientific labors.”
Dar Tarus turned to me. “Vad Varo, of all others you are most familiar
with the work of Ras Thavas. Would you see him again restored to his
island and his laboratory?”
“Only on condition that he devote his great skill to the amelioration of
human suffering,” I replied, “and no longer prostitute it to the foul
purposes of greed and sin.” This led to a discussion which lasted for
hours, the results of which were of far-reaching significance. Ras
Thavas agreed to all that I required and Dar Tarus commissioned Gor
Hajus to head an army against Toonol.
But these matters, while of vast interest to those most directly
concerned, have no direct bearing upon the story of my adventures upon
Barsoom, as I had no part in them, since upon the second day I boarded a
flier with Valla Dia and, escorted by a Phundahlian fleet, set out
towards Duhor. Dar Tarus accompanied us for a short distance. When the
fleet was stopped at the shore of the great marsh he bade us farewell,
and was about to step to the deck of his own ship and return to Phundahl
when a shout arose from the deck of one of the other ships and word was
soon passed that a lookout had sighted what appeared to be a great fleet
far to the south-west. Nor was it long before it became plainly visible
to us all and equally plain that it was headed for Phundahl.
Dar Tarus told me then that as much as he regretted it, there seemed
nothing to do but return at once to his capital with the entire fleet,
since he could not spare a single ship or man if this proved an enemy
fleet, nor could Valla Dia or I interpose any objection; and so we
turned about and sped as rapidly as the slow ships of Phundahl permitted
back towards the city.
The stranger fleet had sighted us at about the same time that we had
sighted it, and we saw it change its course and bear down upon us; and
as it came nearer it fell into single file and prepared to encircle us.
I was standing at Dar Tarus’ side when the colors of the approaching
fleet became distinguishable and we first learned that it was from
Helium.
“Signal and ask if they come in peace,” directed Dar Tarus.
“We seek word with Xaxa, Jeddara of Phundahl,” came the reply. “The
question of peace or war will be hers to decide.”
“Tell them that Xaxa is dead and that I, Dar Tarus, Jeddak of Phundahl,
will receive the commander of Helium’s fleet in peace upon the deck of
this ship, or that I will receive him in war with all my guns. I, Dar
Tarus, have spoken!”
From the bow of a great ship of Helium there broke the flag of truce and
when Dar Tarus’ ship answered it in kind the other drew near and
presently we could see the men of Helium upon her decks. Slowly the
great flier came alongside our smaller ship and when the two had been
made fast a party of officers boarded us. They were fine looking men,
and at their head was one whom I recognized immediately though I never
before had laid eyes upon him. I think he was the most impressive figure
I have ever seen as he advanced slowly across the deck towards us—John
Carter, Prince of Helium, Warlord of Barsoom.
“Dar Tarus,” he said, “John Carter greets you and in peace, though it
had been different, I think, had Xaxa still reigned.”
“You came to war upon Xaxa?” asked Dar Tarus.
“We came to right a wrong,” replied the Warlord. “But from what we know
of Xaxa that could have been done only by force.”
“What wrong has Phundahl done Helium?” demanded Dar Tarus.
“The wrong was against one of your own people—even against you in
person.”
“I do not understand,” said Dar Tarus.
“There is one aboard my ship who may be able to explain to you, Dar
Tarus,” replied John Carter, with a smile. He turned and spoke to one of
his aides in a whisper, and the man saluted and returned to the deck of
his own ship. “You shall see with your own eyes, Dar Tarus.” Suddenly
his eyes narrowed. “This is indeed Dar Tarus who was a warrior of the
Jeddara’s Guard and supposedly assassinated by her command?”
“It is,” replied Dar Tarus.
“I must be certain,” said the Warlord.
“There is no question about it, John Carter,” I spoke up in English.
His eyes went wide, and when they fell upon me and he noted my lighter
skin, from which the dye was wearing away, he stepped forward and held
out his hand.
“A countryman?” he asked.
“Yes, an American,” I replied.
“I was almost surprised,” he said. “Yet why should I be? I have
crossed—there is no reason why others should not. And you have
accomplished it! You must come to Helium with me and tell me all about
it.”
Further conversation was interrupted by the return of the aide, who
brought a young woman with him. At sight of her Dar Tarus uttered a cry
of joy and sprang forward, and I did not need to be told that this was
Kara Vasa.
There is little more to tell that might not bore you in the telling—of
how John Carter himself took Valla Dia and me to Duhor after attending
the nuptials of Dar Tarus and Kara Vasa; and of the great surprise that
awaited me in Duhor, where I learned for the first time that Kor San,
Jeddak of Duhor, was the father of Valla Dia; and of the honors and the
great riches that he heaped upon me when Valla Dia and I were wed.
John Carter was present at the wedding and we initiated upon Barsoom a
good old American custom, for the Warlord acted as best man; and then he
insisted that we follow that up with a honeymoon and bore us off to
Helium, where I am writing this.
Even now it seems like a dream that I can look out of my window and see
the scarlet and the yellow towers of the twin cities of Helium; that I
have met, and see daily, Cathoris, Thuvia of Ptarth, Tara of Helium,
Gahan of Gathol and that peerless creature, Dejah Thoris, Princess of
Mars. Though to me, beautiful as she is, there is another even more
beautiful—Valla Dia, Princess of Duhor—Mrs. Ulysses Paxton.
TRANSCRIBER NOTES
Misspelled words and printer errors have been corrected. Where multiple
spellings occur, majority use has been employed.
Punctuation has been maintained except where obvious printer errors
occur.