2 - Blades of Mars (4 page)

 
          
 
I had gone to bed in a mixed mood of
desolation and anticipation. It was not so easy to forget, even for a moment or
two, that I was separated from the woman I loved by barriers impossible to
cross. On the other hand, the cause of the tyrannised fold of Mendishar was one
close to my heart. We Americans always have sympathy with the oppressed,
whoever they may be, so long as they themselves are fighting back. Not a very
Christian attitude, perhaps, but one which I share with most of my country-men
and probably with most of humanity.

 
          
 
I awoke in a somewhat more philosophical frame
of mind. There was hope - faint hope. You remember that I told you of the
wonderful inventions of the mysterious Sheev? Well, that was my hope - that
some time I might contact the Sheev and ask them for help in crossing time and
space once again - this time not from planet to planet but from one time and
place on Mars to another.

 
          
 
I resolved to seek out the Sheev - or a member
of the race - as soon as I had seen the revolution of Mendishar successful. I
felt involved in it, principally because I regarded Hool Haji as a close
friend, and anything he did was of interest to me.

 
          
 
A light tap on my door came soon after I had
awakened. Sunlight was streaming through the unglazed window and there was a
sweet, fresh smell in the air - the familiar scents of the Martian countryside.

 
          
 
I called for the person outside to enter. It
was a female servant - the blue females are only a foot or two shorter than the
males - with a tray of hot food. This in itself was a surprise, for the
Southern Martian breakfast usually con-sits of fruit and the like.

 
          
 
While I was finishing the breakfast Hool Haji
came in. He was smiling. After greeting me he sat on the bed and burst out
laughing.

 
          
 
His laughter was infectious and I found myself
smiling in response, though I did not know the cause of his mirth.

 
          
 
‘What is it?' I asked.

 
          
 
‘That woman,' he said, still grinning. 'Morahi
Vaja's sister - what's her name?'

 
          
 
'Ora Lis?'

 
          
 
‘That's right. Well, she brought me my
breakfast this morning.'

 
          
 
‘Is that strange?'

 
          
 
'It is very courteous - though a rare custom
amongst our people. It was not so much the action, which I should normally have
accepted as a compliment, as what she said.'

 
          
 
'What did she say?' I had a feeling of unease
then. As I have mentioned before, I seem to be slightly psychic - or whatever
you care to call it. I have some sixth sense which warns me of trouble. Some
would call it the logic of the subconscious which accumulates and draws
conclusions from data which never reaches the conscious mind.

 
          
 
‘In short,’ declared my friend, 'she told me
that she knew our destinies to be intertwined. I believe she thinks I am going
to marry her.'

 
          
 
'Ah, infatuation,' I said, still somewhat
perturbed, nonetheless. ‘You are the mysterious exile returned to claim a
throne, and what could be more romantic than that? What girl would not respond
to it? It is not an uncommon feeling, I have heard,'

 
          
 
He nodded. ‘Yes, yes. That is why I did not
treat the declaration too seriously. I was polite enough to her, never fear.'

 
          
 
I fingered my chin thoughtfully, realising
suddenly that I had not shaved for some time - there was
a
heavy
stubble there. I would do something about it soon. 'What did you
say?' I asked.

 
          
 
'I told her that the business of the revolt
was consuming all my attention, that I had noticed she was beautiful. . . She
is, don't you think?'

 
          
 
I did not answer this. All beauty is
comparative, I know, but I could not, frankly, tell a beautiful, eight-foot,
blue giantess from an ugly one!

 
          
 
'I told her that we should have to wait before
we could become better acquainted,' the Mendishar continued, chuckling.

 
          
 
I felt slightly relieved by the knowledge that
my friend had behaved so tactfully.

 
          
 
'A wise thing to Say.'
I nodded. 'When you sit the throne of Mendishar as
Bradhi,
that
will be the time to think of romance - or the avoiding of it.'

 
          
 
'Exactly,' said Hool Haji bringing his great
bulk to a standing position once more. 'I don't quite know if she accepted
this. She seemed to take it rather as a declaration of my own passion, which
troubled me a little.’

 
          
 
'Do not worry,' I said. 'What are your plans
for today?'

 
          
 
‘We must work speedily and prepare a message
to be sent to all the cilaks and orcilaks calling them to a fullscale meeting
here.' The two Martian words meant, roughly, village-leader and town-leader,
the suffix
ak
designating one holding power over his
fellows or - strictly speaking, in Martian, one who was charged by his fellows
to act in their interests. Cil meant a small community, orcil meant a larger
one.

 
          
 
'This is necessary.' Hool Haji continued, 'in
order that they should see for themselves that I am who I am as well, of
course, as deciding when and how we shall strike and deploy our warriors.'

 
          
 
'How many warriors do you estimate having at
your disposal?' I enquired washing myself with the cold water provided.

 
          
 
‘About ten thousand.'

 
          
 
‘And how many Priosa will they have to contend
with?’

 
          
 
‘About five thousand,
including the warriors not of the Priosa but expected to support them.
The Priosa will, of course, be much better armed and trained. My people have a
habit of fighting independently of any command. The Priosa have rid
themselves
of this lack of discipline, but I am not sure if
the same can be said for many of the village-dwelling warriors.'

 
          
 
I understood. This was a trait which the
Mendishar shared with their Argzoon cousins. The Argzoon had only been united
under that arch-villainess Horguhl - and united largely through fear of a
common enemy, the N'aal Beast, and superstition.

 
          
 
'That is another reason why my presence is
needed,' said Hool Haji. 'They will, Morahi Vaja feels, fight under
an
hereditary Bradhi, whereas they would be disinclined to take
orders from a mere cilak.''

 
          
 
'Then Morahi Vaja was right - you are
invaluable to the cause.'

 
          
 
'It seems so. It is a great responsibility.'

 
          
 
'It is responsibility to which you will have
to become accustomed,' I told him. 'As Bradhi of Mendishar you will have heavy
responsibilities for your people all your life.'

 
          
 
He sighed and gave me a wry smile. 'There are
some advantages in being a lone wanderer in the wilderness, are there not?'

 
          
 
'There are. But if you are of royal blood you
are not free to choose.'

 
          
 
He sighed again and gripped the hilt of his
great sword. 'You are more than an able fighting companion, Michael Kane. You
are also a friend of strong character.'

 
          
 
I grasped his arm and looked up into his eyes.
'Those words apply to you, Bradhinak Hool Haji.'

 
          
 
'I hope so,' he said.

Hool Haji's Duty

 
          
 
A FEW days later we received word that all the
various leaders of the towns and villages had been' given secret word and a
great meeting
was
planned in three days' time.

 
          
 
During that period of waiting we had spent
long hours in planning and fewer
hours
m relaxation.
Hool Haji spent a great deal of the time with Ora Lis. Like any man, he was
flattered by her adoration and could not resist basking in it I felt that no
good could come of this, but I could not blame him. In circumstances other than
mine I might have done the same myself. In fact, I have done it myself more
than once in the past, though not nearly so much was at stake then.

 
          
 
It seemed to me that Ora Lis was given good
cause to think that her passion was being reciprocated, but I could find no way
of warning my friend.

 
          
 
Once I found myself in the same room with her,
alone, and I talked with her for a short time.

 
          
 
In spite of what was, to me, her outlandish size
and strange face, she was plainly a simple, ingenuous, romantic girl. I tried
to speak of Hool Haji, told her of his many obligations to his
people, that
it might be years before he could think of
himself - and the taking of a wife.

 
          
 
Her response to this was to laugh and shrug
her shoulders.

 
          
 
'You are a wise man, Michael Kane - my brother
says that your counsel has aided them greatly - but I think you are not so wise
in matters of love.'

 
          
 
This struck deeper than it should have done,
for thoughts of my own love, Shizala, were forever with me. But I persevered.

 
          
 
'Have you not thought that Hool Haji may not
feel so strongly about you as you do for ‘im?' I asked gently.

 
          
 
Again the smile and the
light laugh.
'We are to be married in two days' tune,' she told me.

 
          
 
I gasped. 'Married? Hool Haji has told me
nothing of this!'

 
          
 
'Has he not? Well, it is so, nonetheless!’

 
          
 
After that I could make no reply but resolved
to seek out Hool Haji at the earliest opportunity.

 
          
 
I found him standing on the north wall of the
village, looking out over the lovely, blue-green hills, the cultivated fields
that sustained the villagers, and the large, scarlet rhani flowers that grew in
profusion hereabouts.

 
          
 
'Hool Haji,' I said without preliminary, 'did
you know that Ora Lis thinks she is to marry you in two days' time?'

 
          
 
He turned, smiling. 'Is that it? She is living
out some fantasy in a world of her own, I fear. She told me mysteriously
yesterday that if I met her by a certain tree yonder' - he pointed to the north-east
- 'that which we both desired would be brought about. A secret marriage! Even
more romantic than I guessed.'

 
          
 
'But do you not realise that she sincerely
believes you intend to make the rendezvous?'

 
          
 
He drew a deep breath. 'Yes. I suppose so. I
must do something about it, mustn't I?'

 
          
 
'You must - and swiftly.
The
poor girl!'

 
          
 
'You know, Michael Kane, the duties of the
past days have left me in a state almost of euphoria. I have spent time in Ora
Lis' company because I found it the most relaxing thing I could do. Yet I have
hardly heard anything she has said to me - can remember scarcely a word I have
said to her. Plainly, things have gone too far.'

 
          
 
The sun was beginning to set, staining the
deep blue sky with veins of red, yellow and purple.

 
          
 
'Will you go to see her now?' I described
where she was.

 
          
 
He yawned warily. 'No -1 had best do it when I
am more refreshed.
In the morning.''

 
          
 
We walked back slowly to the house of our
host. We passed Ora Lis on our way. She went swiftly by.
pausing
only to give Hool Haji a secret smile.

 
          
 
I was horrified. I understood my friend's
predicament, how the situation must have arisen, and I could sympathise with
him. Now he had to do what every man hates to do ^"^ - put a girl into the
deepest possible misery in the most tactful possible way.
Knowing
something of these situations.
I also knew that, no matter how tactful a
man tries to be, something always results so that he is misunderstood and the
girl weeps, refusing to be comforted by him. Few women do not respond in this
manner - and, frankly, those are the ones I admire - women like my own Shizala,
who was as feminine as could be but with a will of iron and a strength of
character most men would envy.

 
          
 
Not that I did not sympathise with the poor Ora
Lis. I sympathised very much. She was young, innocent - a village-girl with
none of the unpretentious sophistication of my Shizala, and one of the rigid
training that all members of the Southern Martian royal houses receive.

 
          
 
I sympathised with both. But it was up to Hool
Haji to do his unpleasant duty. And I knew that he would.

 
          
 
Again, after I had bathed and shaved with a
specially honed knife I had borrowed from Morahi Vaja - the blue Martians have
no body hair to speak of - and climbed wearily into bed, I was filled with a
sense of deep disquiet that would not leave me even in sleep. I tossed and
turned throughout the long Martian night and in the morning felt as unrefreshed
as when I had gone to bed.

 
          
 
Having risen and splashed cold water all over
my body in an effort to rid myself of my feeling of tiredness, I ate the food
the servant had brought me, strapped on my weapons and went out into the
courtyard of the house.

 
          
 
It was a beautiful morning but I could not
appreciate it greatly.

 
          
 
Just as I was turning back to look for Hool
Haji, Ora Lis came flying from the house. Tears ran freely down her face and
great groaning sobs came from her.

 
          
 
I realised that Hool Haji must have spoken to
her and told her the truth - the unpalatable truth. I tried to speak to her, to
say some comforting words to her, but she was past me in a flash and running
into the street.

 
          
 
I told myself that it was best that it should
have happened this way and that, being young and
resilient,
the poor girl would soon recover from her misery and find another young warrior
upon whom she could lavish the passion that was so plainly part of her
character. But I was wrong. I was to be proved very wrong in the events which
followed.

 
          
 
Hool Haji came out of the house next. He walked
slowly, with head bowed. When he looked up and saw me, I noticed that his eyes
reflected pain and sadness.

 
          
 
'You have done it,' I said.

 
          
 
‘Yes.'

 
          
 
‘I saw her - she ran past me and would not
stop when I called to her. It was the best thing.'

 
          
 
'I suppose so.'

 
          
 
'She will soon find someone else,' I said.

 
          
 
'You know, Michael Kane,' he said with a sigh,
'it cost me more than you realise to do what I did. In other circumstances I
might have grown to love Ora Lis.'

 
          
 
'Perhaps you will when this is over.'

 
          
 
'Will it not then be too late?'

 
          
 
I had to be realistic. 'Possibly,' I told him.

 
          
 
He seemed to make an effort to dismiss the
thoughts from his mind. 'Come,' he said, 'we must speak with Morahi Vaja. He
would learn your views on the deploying of the axe-men from Sala-Ras.'

 
          
 
If Hool Haji was in a mood of depression, I
was in one of utmost foreboding.

 
          
 
More was going to come out of this episode
than either of us could have foreseen.

 
          
 
It was to change the entire course of events
and fling me into some strange adventures.

 
          
 
It was to mean death to many.