A Princess of Mars (18 page)

"He will die as Bar Comas, your jeddak, sees fit, if at all,"
replied the young ruler, with emphasis and dignity.

"If at all?" roared Dak Kova. "By the dead hands at my throat but
he shall die, Bar Comas. No maudlin weakness on your part shall
save him. O, would that Warhoon were ruled by a real jeddak rather
than by a water-hearted weakling from whom even old Dak Kova could
tear the metal with his bare hands!"

Bar Comas eyed the defiant and insubordinate chieftain for an
instant, his expression one of haughty, fearless contempt and hate,
and then without drawing a weapon and without uttering a word he
hurled himself at the throat of his defamer.

I never before had seen two green Martian warriors battle with
nature's weapons and the exhibition of animal ferocity which ensued
was as fearful a thing as the most disordered imagination could
picture. They tore at each others' eyes and ears with their hands
and with their gleaming tusks repeatedly slashed and gored until
both were cut fairly to ribbons from head to foot.

Bar Comas had much the better of the battle as he was stronger,
quicker and more intelligent. It soon seemed that the encounter was
done saving only the final death thrust when Bar Comas slipped in
breaking away from a clinch. It was the one little opening that Dak
Kova needed, and hurling himself at the body of his adversary he
buried his single mighty tusk in Bar Comas' groin and with a last
powerful effort ripped the young jeddak wide open the full length of
his body, the great tusk finally wedging in the bones of Bar Comas'
jaw. Victor and vanquished rolled limp and lifeless upon the moss,
a huge mass of torn and bloody flesh.

Bar Comas was stone dead, and only the most herculean efforts on
the part of Dak Kova's females saved him from the fate he deserved.
Three days later he walked without assistance to the body of Bar
Comas which, by custom, had not been moved from where it fell, and
placing his foot upon the neck of his erstwhile ruler he assumed
the title of Jeddak of Warhoon.

The dead jeddak's hands and head were removed to be added to the
ornaments of his conqueror, and then his women cremated what
remained, amid wild and terrible laughter.

The injuries to Dak Kova had delayed the march so greatly that it
was decided to give up the expedition, which was a raid upon a small
Thark community in retaliation for the destruction of the incubator,
until after the great games, and the entire body of warriors, ten
thousand in number, turned back toward Warhoon.

My introduction to these cruel and bloodthirsty people was but an
index to the scenes I witnessed almost daily while with them. They
are a smaller horde than the Tharks but much more ferocious. Not a
day passed but that some members of the various Warhoon communities
met in deadly combat. I have seen as high as eight mortal duels
within a single day.

We reached the city of Warhoon after some three days march and I was
immediately cast into a dungeon and heavily chained to the floor
and walls. Food was brought me at intervals but owing to the utter
darkness of the place I do not know whether I lay there days, or
weeks, or months. It was the most horrible experience of all my
life and that my mind did not give way to the terrors of that inky
blackness has been a wonder to me ever since. The place was filled
with creeping, crawling things; cold, sinuous bodies passed over me
when I lay down, and in the darkness I occasionally caught glimpses
of gleaming, fiery eyes, fixed in horrible intentness upon me. No
sound reached me from the world above and no word would my jailer
vouchsafe when my food was brought to me, although I at first
bombarded him with questions.

Finally all the hatred and maniacal loathing for these awful
creatures who had placed me in this horrible place was centered
by my tottering reason upon this single emissary who represented
to me the entire horde of Warhoons.

I had noticed that he always advanced with his dim torch to where he
could place the food within my reach and as he stooped to place it
upon the floor his head was about on a level with my breast. So,
with the cunning of a madman, I backed into the far corner of my
cell when next I heard him approaching and gathering a little slack
of the great chain which held me in my hand I waited his coming,
crouching like some beast of prey. As he stooped to place my food
upon the ground I swung the chain above my head and crashed the
links with all my strength upon his skull. Without a sound he
slipped to the floor, stone dead.

Laughing and chattering like the idiot I was fast becoming I fell
upon his prostrate form my fingers feeling for his dead throat.
Presently they came in contact with a small chain at the end of
which dangled a number of keys. The touch of my fingers on these
keys brought back my reason with the suddenness of thought. No
longer was I a jibbering idiot, but a sane, reasoning man with
the means of escape within my very hands.

As I was groping to remove the chain from about my victim's neck
I glanced up into the darkness to see six pairs of gleaming eyes
fixed, unwinking, upon me. Slowly they approached and slowly I
shrank back from the awful horror of them. Back into my corner I
crouched holding my hands palms out, before me, and stealthily on
came the awful eyes until they reached the dead body at my feet.
Then slowly they retreated but this time with a strange grating
sound and finally they disappeared in some black and distant recess
of my dungeon.

Slowly I regained my composure and finally essayed again to attempt
to remove the keys from the dead body of my former jailer. But as
I reached out into the darkness to locate it I found to my horror
that it was gone. Then the truth flashed on me; the owners of
those gleaming eyes had dragged my prize away from me to be
devoured in their neighboring lair; as they had been waiting for
days, for weeks, for months, through all this awful eternity of
my imprisonment to drag my dead carcass to their feast.

For two days no food was brought me, but then a new messenger
appeared and my incarceration went on as before, but not again did
I allow my reason to be submerged by the horror of my position.

Shortly after this episode another prisoner was brought in and
chained near me. By the dim torch light I saw that he was a red
Martian and I could scarcely await the departure of his guards to
address him. As their retreating footsteps died away in the
distance, I called out softly the Martian word of greeting, kaor.

"Who are you who speaks out of the darkness?" he answered

"John Carter, a friend of the red men of Helium."

"I am of Helium," he said, "but I do not recall your name."

And then I told him my story as I have written it here, omitting
only any reference to my love for Dejah Thoris. He was much excited
by the news of Helium's princess and seemed quite positive that she
and Sola could easily have reached a point of safety from where they
left me. He said that he knew the place well because the defile
through which the Warhoon warriors had passed when they discovered
us was the only one ever used by them when marching to the south.

"Dejah Thoris and Sola entered the hills not five miles from a great
waterway and are now probably quite safe," he assured me.

My fellow prisoner was Kantos Kan, a padwar (lieutenant) in the navy
of Helium. He had been a member of the ill-fated expedition which
had fallen into the hands of the Tharks at the time of Dejah Thoris'
capture, and he briefly related the events which followed the defeat
of the battleships.

Badly injured and only partially manned they had limped slowly
toward Helium, but while passing near the city of Zodanga, the
capital of Helium's hereditary enemies among the red men of Barsoom,
they had been attacked by a great body of war vessels and all but
the craft to which Kantos Kan belonged were either destroyed or
captured. His vessel was chased for days by three of the Zodangan
war ships but finally escaped during the darkness of a moonless
night.

Thirty days after the capture of Dejah Thoris, or about the time of
our coming to Thark, his vessel had reached Helium with about ten
survivors of the original crew of seven hundred officers and men.
Immediately seven great fleets, each of one hundred mighty war
ships, had been dispatched to search for Dejah Thoris, and from
these vessels two thousand smaller craft had been kept out
continuously in futile search for the missing princess.

Two green Martian communities had been wiped off the face of Barsoom
by the avenging fleets, but no trace of Dejah Thoris had been found.
They had been searching among the northern hordes, and only within
the past few days had they extended their quest to the south.

Kantos Kan had been detailed to one of the small one-man fliers
and had had the misfortune to be discovered by the Warhoons while
exploring their city. The bravery and daring of the man won my
greatest respect and admiration. Alone he had landed at the city's
boundary and on foot had penetrated to the buildings surrounding the
plaza. For two days and nights he had explored their quarters and
their dungeons in search of his beloved princess only to fall into
the hands of a party of Warhoons as he was about to leave, after
assuring himself that Dejah Thoris was not a captive there.

During the period of our incarceration Kantos Kan and I became well
acquainted, and formed a warm personal friendship. A few days only
elapsed, however, before we were dragged forth from our dungeon for
the great games. We were conducted early one morning to an enormous
amphitheater, which instead of having been built upon the surface of
the ground was excavated below the surface. It had partially filled
with debris so that how large it had originally been was difficult
to say. In its present condition it held the entire twenty thousand
Warhoons of the assembled hordes.

The arena was immense but extremely uneven and unkempt. Around
it the Warhoons had piled building stone from some of the ruined
edifices of the ancient city to prevent the animals and the
captives from escaping into the audience, and at each end had been
constructed cages to hold them until their turns came to meet some
horrible death upon the arena.

Kantos Kan and I were confined together in one of the cages. In the
others were wild calots, thoats, mad zitidars, green warriors, and
women of other hordes, and many strange and ferocious wild beasts of
Barsoom which I had never before seen. The din of their roaring,
growling and squealing was deafening and the formidable appearance
of any one of them was enough to make the stoutest heart feel grave
forebodings.

Kantos Kan explained to me that at the end of the day one of these
prisoners would gain freedom and the others would lie dead about
the arena. The winners in the various contests of the day would be
pitted against each other until only two remained alive; the victor
in the last encounter being set free, whether animal or man. The
following morning the cages would be filled with a new consignment
of victims, and so on throughout the ten days of the games.

Shortly after we had been caged the amphitheater began to fill
and within an hour every available part of the seating space was
occupied. Dak Kova, with his jeds and chieftains, sat at the
center of one side of the arena upon a large raised platform.

At a signal from Dak Kova the doors of two cages were thrown open
and a dozen green Martian females were driven to the center of the
arena. Each was given a dagger and then, at the far end, a pack
of twelve calots, or wild dogs were loosed upon them.

As the brutes, growling and foaming, rushed upon the almost
defenseless women I turned my head that I might not see the horrid
sight. The yells and laughter of the green horde bore witness to
the excellent quality of the sport and when I turned back to the
arena, as Kantos Kan told me it was over, I saw three victorious
calots, snarling and growling over the bodies of their prey.
The women had given a good account of themselves.

Next a mad zitidar was loosed among the remaining dogs, and so it
went throughout the long, hot, horrible day.

During the day I was pitted against first men and then beasts, but
as I was armed with a long-sword and always outclassed my adversary
in agility and generally in strength as well, it proved but child's
play to me. Time and time again I won the applause of the
bloodthirsty multitude, and toward the end there were cries that
I be taken from the arena and be made a member of the hordes of
Warhoon.

Finally there were but three of us left, a great green warrior of
some far northern horde, Kantos Kan, and myself.

The other two were to battle and then I to fight the conqueror for
the liberty which was accorded the final winner.

Kantos Kan had fought several times during the day and like myself
had always proven victorious, but occasionally by the smallest of
margins, especially when pitted against the green warriors. I had
little hope that he could best his giant adversary who had mowed
down all before him during the day. The fellow towered nearly
sixteen feet in height, while Kantos Kan was some inches under six
feet. As they advanced to meet one another I saw for the first time
a trick of Martian swordsmanship which centered Kantos Kan's every
hope of victory and life on one cast of the dice, for, as he came to
within about twenty feet of the huge fellow he threw his sword arm
far behind him over his shoulder and with a mighty sweep hurled his
weapon point foremost at the green warrior. It flew true as an
arrow and piercing the poor devil's heart laid him dead upon the
arena.

Kantos Kan and I were now pitted against each other but as we
approached to the encounter I whispered to him to prolong the battle
until nearly dark in the hope that we might find some means of
escape. The horde evidently guessed that we had no hearts to fight
each other and so they howled in rage as neither of us placed a
fatal thrust. Just as I saw the sudden coming of dark I whispered
to Kantos Kan to thrust his sword between my left arm and my body.
As he did so I staggered back clasping the sword tightly with my arm
and thus fell to the ground with his weapon apparently protruding
from my chest. Kantos Kan perceived my coup and stepping quickly to
my side he placed his foot upon my neck and withdrawing his sword
from my body gave me the final death blow through the neck which is
supposed to sever the jugular vein, but in this instance the cold
blade slipped harmlessly into the sand of the arena. In the
darkness which had now fallen none could tell but that he had really
finished me. I whispered to him to go and claim his freedom and
then look for me in the hills east of the city, and so he left me.