Books: Thuvia, Maid of Mars
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Edgar Rice Burroughs >> Thuvia, Maid of Mars
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With slightly lightened heart he started out to explore the valley,
but scarce a dozen steps had he taken when the glistening of a
jewelled bauble lying on the sward caught his eye.
As he picked it up his first glance showed him that it was a
woman's hair ornament, and emblazoned upon it was the insignia of
the royal house of Ptarth.
But, sinister discovery, blood, still wet, splotched the magnificent
jewels of the setting.
Carthoris half choked as the dire possibilities which the thing
suggested presented themselves to his imagination. Yet he could
not, would not believe it.
It was impossible that that radiant creature could have met so
hideous an end. It was incredible that the glorious Thuvia should
ever cease to be.
Upon his already jewel-encrusted harness, to the strap that crossed
his great chest beneath which beat his loyal heart, Carthoris,
Prince of Helium, fastened the gleaming thing that Thuvia of Ptarth
had worn, and wearing, had made holy to the Heliumite.
Then he proceeded upon his way into the heart of the unknown valley.
For the most part the giant trees shut off his view to any but the
most limited distances. Occasionally he caught glimpses of the
towering hills that bounded the valley upon every side, and though
they stood out clear beneath the light of the two moons, he knew that
they were far off, and that the extent of the valley was immense.
For half the night he continued his search, until presently he was
brought to a sudden halt by the distant sound of squealing thoats.
Guided by the noise of these habitually angry beasts, he stole
forward through the trees until at last he came upon a level,
treeless plain, in the centre of which a mighty city reared its
burnished domes and vividly coloured towers.
About the walled city the red man saw a huge encampment of the
green warriors of the dead sea-bottoms, and as he let his eyes
rove carefully over the city he realized that here was no deserted
metropolis of a dead past.
But what city could it be? His studies had taught him that in this
little-explored portion of Barsoom the fierce tribe of Torquasian
green men ruled supreme, and that as yet no red man had succeeded
in piercing to the heart of their domain to return again to the
world of civilization.
The men of Torquas had perfected huge guns with which their uncanny
marksmanship had permitted them to repulse the few determined
efforts that near-by red nations had made to explore their country
by means of battle fleets of airships.
That he was within the boundary of Torquas, Carthoris was sure, but
that there existed there such a wondrous city he never had dreamed,
nor had the chronicles of the past even hinted at such a possibility,
for the Torquasians were known to live, as did the other green men
of Mars, within the deserted cities that dotted the dying planet,
nor ever had any green horde built so much as a single edifice,
other than the low-walled incubators where their young are hatched
by the sun's heat.
The encircling camp of green warriors lay about five hundred yards
from the city's walls. Between it and the city was no semblance
of breastwork or other protection against rifle or cannon fire;
yet distinctly now in the light of the rising sun Carthoris could
see many figures moving along the summit of the high wall, and upon
the roof tops beyond.
That they were beings like himself he was sure, though they were at
too great distance from him for him to be positive that they were
red men.
Almost immediately after sunrise the green warriors commenced firing
upon the little figures upon the wall. To Carthoris' surprise
the fire was not returned, but presently the last of the city's
inhabitants had sought shelter from the weird marksmanship of the
green men, and no further sign of life was visible beyond the wall.
Then Carthoris, keeping within the shelter of the trees that fringed
the plain, began circling the rear of the besiegers' line, hoping
against hope that somewhere he would obtain sight of Thuvia of
Ptarth, for even now he could not believe that she was dead.
That he was not discovered was a miracle, for mounted warriors were
constantly riding back and forth from the camp into the forest; but
the long day wore on and still he continued his seemingly fruitless
quest, until, near sunset, he came opposite a mighty gate in the
city's western wall.
Here seemed to be the principal force of the attacking horde.
Here a great platform had been erected whereon Carthoris could see
squatting a huge green warrior, surrounded by others of his kind.
This, then, must be the notorious Hortan Gur, Jeddak of Torquas,
the fierce old ogre of the south-western hemisphere, as only for
a jeddak are platforms raised in temporary camps or upon the march
by the green hordes of Barsoom.
As the Heliumite watched he saw another green warrior push his way
forward toward the rostrum. Beside him he dragged a captive, and
as the surrounding warriors parted to let the two pass, Carthoris
caught a fleeting glimpse of the prisoner.
His heart leaped in rejoicing. Thuvia of Ptarth still lived!
It was with difficulty that Carthoris restrained the impulse to
rush forward to the side of the Ptarthian princess; but in the end
his better judgment prevailed, for in the face of such odds he knew
that he should have been but throwing away, uselessly, any future
opportunity he might have to succour her.
He saw her dragged to the foot of the rostrum. He saw Hortan Gur
address her. He could not hear the creature's words, nor Thuvia's
reply; but it must have angered the green monster, for Carthoris
saw him leap toward the prisoner, striking her a cruel blow across
the face with his metal-banded arm.
Then the son of John Carter, Jeddak of Jeddaks, Warlord of Barsoom,
went mad. The old, blood-red haze through which his sire had glared
at countless foes, floated before his eyes.
His half-Earthly muscles, responding quickly to his will, sent
him in enormous leaps and bounds toward the green monster that had
struck the woman he loved.
The Torquasians were not looking in the direction of the forest.
All eyes had been upon the figures of the girl and their jeddak,
and loud was the hideous laughter that rang out in appreciation of
the wit of the green emperor's reply to his prisoner's appeal for
liberty.
Carthoris had covered about half the distance between the forest
and the green warriors, when a new factor succeeded in still further
directing the attention of the latter from him.
Upon a high tower within the beleaguered city a man appeared. From
his upturned mouth there issued a series of frightful shrieks;
uncanny shrieks that swept, shrill and terrifying, across the city's
walls, over the heads of the besiegers, and out across the forest
to the uttermost confines of the valley.
Once, twice, thrice the fearsome sound smote upon the ears of the
listening green men and then far, far off across the broad woods
came sharp and clear from the distance an answering shriek.
It was but the first. From every point rose similar savage cries,
until the world seemed to tremble to their reverberations.
The green warriors looked nervously this way and that. They knew
not fear, as Earth men may know it; but in the face of the unusual
their wonted self-assurance deserted them.
And then the great gate in the city wall opposite the platform of
Hortan Gur swung suddenly wide. From it issued as strange a sight
as Carthoris ever had witnessed, though at the moment he had time
to cast but a single fleeting glance at the tall bowmen emerging
through the portal behind their long, oval shields; to note their
flowing auburn hair; and to realize that the growling things at
their side were fierce Barsoomian lions.
Then he was in the midst of the astonished Torquasians. With
drawn long-sword he was among them, and to Thuvia of Ptarth, whose
startled eyes were the first to fall upon him, it seemed that she
was looking upon John Carter himself, so strangely similar to the
fighting of the father was that of the son.
Even to the famous fighting smile of the Virginian was the resemblance
true. And the sword arm! Ah, the subtleness of it, and the speed!
All about was turmoil and confusion. Green warriors were leaping
to the backs of their restive, squealing thoats. Calots were
growling out their savage gutturals, whining to be at the throats
of the oncoming foemen.
Thar Ban and another by the side of the rostrum had been the first
to note the coming of Carthoris, and it was with them he battled
for possession of the red girl, while the others hastened to meet
the host advancing from the beleaguered city.
Carthoris sought both to defend Thuvia of Ptarth and reach the
side of the hideous Hortan Gur that he might avenge the blow the
creature had struck the girl.
He succeeded in reaching the rostrum, over the dead bodies of
two warriors who had turned to join Thar Ban and his companion in
repulsing this adventurous red man, just as Hortan Gur was about
to leap from it to the back of his thoat.
The attention of the green warriors turned principally upon
the bowmen advancing upon them from the city, and upon the savage
banths that paced beside them--cruel beasts of war, infinitely more
terrible than their own savage calots.
As Carthoris leaped to the rostrum he drew Thuvia up beside him,
and then he turned upon the departing jeddak with an angry challenge
and a sword thrust.
As the Heliumite's point pricked his green hide, Hortan Gur turned
upon his adversary with a snarl, but at the same instant two
of his chieftains called to him to hasten, for the charge of the
fair-skinned inhabitants of the city was developing into a more
serious matter than the Torquasians had anticipated.
Instead of remaining to battle with the red man, Hortan Gur promised
him his attention after he had disposed of the presumptuous citizens
of the walled city, and, leaping astride his thoat, galloped off
to meet the rapidly advancing bowmen.
The other warriors quickly followed their jeddak, leaving Thuvia
and Carthoris alone upon the platform.
Between them and the city raged a terrific battle. The fair-skinned
warriors, armed only with their long bows and a kind of short-handled
war-axe, were almost helpless beneath the savage mounted green men
at close quarters; but at a distance their sharp arrows did fully
as much execution as the radium projectiles of the green men.
But if the warriors themselves were outclassed, not so their savage
companions, the fierce banths. Scarce had the two lines come
together when hundreds of these appalling creatures had leaped
among the Torquasians, dragging warriors from their thoats--dragging
down the huge thoats themselves, and bringing consternation to all
before them.
The numbers of the citizenry, too, was to their advantage, for
it seemed that scarce a warrior fell but his place was taken by a
score more, in such a constant stream did they pour from the city's
great gate.
And so it came, what with the ferocity of the banths and the
numbers of the bowmen, that at last the Torquasians fell back,
until presently the platform upon which stood Carthoris and Thuvia
lay directly in the centre of the fight.
That neither was struck by a bullet or an arrow seemed a miracle
to both; but at last the tide had rolled completely past them, so
that they were alone between the fighters and the city, except for
the dying and the dead, and a score or so of growling banths, less
well trained than their fellows, who prowled among the corpses
seeking meat.
To Carthoris the strangest part of the battle had been the terrific
toll taken by the bowmen with their relatively puny weapons. Nowhere
that he could see was there a single wounded green man, but the
corpses of their dead lay thick upon the field of battle.
Death seemed to follow instantly the slightest pinprick of a bowman's
arrow, nor apparently did one ever miss its goal. There could be
but one explanation: the missiles were poison-tipped.
Presently the sounds of conflict died in the distant forest.
Quiet reigned, broken only by the growling of the devouring banths.
Carthoris turned toward Thuvia of Ptarth. As yet neither had
spoken.
"Where are we, Thuvia?" he asked.
The girl looked at him questioningly. His very presence had seemed
to proclaim a guilty knowledge of her abduction. How else might
he have known the destination of the flier that brought her!
"Who should know better than the Prince of Helium?" she asked in
return. "Did he not come hither of his own free will?"
"From Aaanthor I came voluntarily upon the trail of the green man
who had stolen you, Thuvia," he replied; "but from the time I left
Helium until I awoke above Aaanthor I thought myself bound for
Ptarth.
"It had been intimated that I had guilty knowledge of your abduction,"
he explained simply, "and I was hastening to the jeddak, your
father, to convince him of the falsity of the charge, and to give my
service to your recovery. Before I left Helium some one tampered
with my compass, so that it bore me to Aaanthor instead of to
Ptarth. That is all. You believe me?"
"But the warriors who stole me from the garden!" she exclaimed.
"After we arrived at Aaanthor they wore the metal of the Prince of
Helium. When they took me they were trapped in Dusarian harness.
There seemed but a single explanation. Whoever dared the outrage
wished to put the onus upon another, should he be detected in the
act; but once safely away from Ptarth he felt safe in having his
minions return to their own harness."
"You believe that I did this thing, Thuvia?" he asked.
"Ah, Carthoris," she replied sadly, "I did not wish to believe it;
but when everything pointed to you--even then I would not believe
it."
"I did not do it, Thuvia," he said. "But let me be entirely honest
with you. As much as I love your father, as much as I respect Kulan
Tith, to whom you are betrothed, as well as I know the frightful
consequences that must have followed such an act of mine, hurling
into war, as it would, three of the greatest nations of Barsoom--yet,
notwithstanding all this, I should not have hesitated to take you
thus, Thuvia of Ptarth, had you even hinted that it would not have
displeased YOU.
"But you did nothing of the kind, and so I am here, not in my own
service, but in yours, and in the service of the man to whom you
are promised, to save you for him, if it lies within the power of
man to do so," he concluded, almost bitterly.
Thuvia of Ptarth looked into his face for several moments. Her
breast was rising and falling as though to some resistless emotion.
She half took a step toward him. Her lips parted as though to
speak--swiftly and impetuously.
And then she conquered whatever had moved her.
"The future acts of the Prince of Helium," she said coldly, "must
constitute the proof of his past honesty of purpose."
Carthoris was hurt by the girl's tone, as much as by the doubt as
to his integrity which her words implied.
He had half hoped that she might hint that his love would be
acceptable--certainly there was due him at least a little gratitude
for his recent acts in her behalf; but the best he received was
cold skepticism.
The Prince of Helium shrugged his broad shoulders. The girl noted
it, and the little smile that touched his lips, so that it became
her turn to be hurt.
Of course she had not meant to hurt him. He might have known that
after what he had said she could not do anything to encourage him!
But he need not have made his indifference quite so palpable. The
men of Helium were noted for their gallantry--not for boorishness.
Possibly it was the Earth blood that flowed in his veins.
How could she know that the shrug was but Carthoris' way of
attempting, by physical effort, to cast blighting sorrow from his
heart, or that the smile upon his lips was the fighting smile of his
father with which the son gave outward evidence of the determination
he had reached to submerge his own great love in his efforts to
save Thuvia of Ptarth for another, because he believed that she
loved this other!
He reverted to his original question.
"Where are we?" he asked. "I do not know."
"Nor I," replied the girl. "Those who stole me from Ptarth spoke
among themselves of Aaanthor, so that I thought it possible that
the ancient city to which they took me was that famous ruin; but
where we may be now I have no idea."
"When the bowmen return we shall doubtless learn all that there is
to know," said Carthoris. "Let us hope that they prove friendly.
What race may they be? Only in the most ancient of our legends
and in the mural paintings of the deserted cities of the dead
sea-bottoms are depicted such a race of auburn-haired, fair-skinned
people. Can it be that we have stumbled upon a surviving city of
the past which all Barsoom believes buried beneath the ages?"
Thuvia was looking toward the forest into which the green men and
the pursuing bowmen had disappeared. From a great distance came
the hideous cries of banths, and an occasional shot.
"It is strange that they do not return," said the girl.
"One would expect to see the wounded limping or being carried back
to the city," replied Carthoris, with a puzzled frown. "But how
about the wounded nearer the city? Have they carried them within?"
Both turned their eyes toward the field between them and the walled
city, where the fighting had been most furious.
There were the banths, still growling about their hideous feast.
Carthoris looked at Thuvia in astonishment. Then he pointed toward
the field.
"Where are they?" he whispered. "WHAT HAS BECOME OF THEIR DEAD
AND WOUNDED?"
CHAPTER VI
THE JEDDAK OF LOTHAR
The girl looked her incredulity.
"They lay in piles," she murmured. "There were thousands of them
but a minute ago."
"And now," continued Carthoris, "there remain but the banths and
the carcasses of the green men."
"They must have sent forth and carried the dead bowmen away while
we were talking," said the girl.
"It is impossible!" replied Carthoris. "Thousands of dead lay
there upon the field but a moment since. It would have required
many hours to have removed them. The thing is uncanny."
"I had hoped," said Thuvia, "that we might find an asylum with
these fair-skinned people. Notwithstanding their valour upon the
field of battle, they did not strike me as a ferocious or warlike
people. I had been about to suggest that we seek entrance to the
city, but now I scarce know if I care to venture among people whose
dead vanish into thin air."
"Let us chance it," replied Carthoris. "We can be no worse off within
their walls than without. Here we may fall prey to the banths or
the no less fierce Torquasians. There, at least, we shall find
beings moulded after our own images.
"All that causes me to hesitate," he added, "is the danger of taking
you past so many banths. A single sword would scarce prevail were
even a couple of them to charge simultaneously."
"Do not fear on that score," replied the girl, smiling. "The banths
will not harm us."
As she spoke she descended from the platform, and with Carthoris
at her side stepped fearlessly out upon the bloody field in the
direction of the walled city of mystery.
They had advanced but a short distance when a banth, looking up
from its gory feast, descried them. With an angry roar the beast
walked quickly in their direction, and at the sound of its voice
a score of others followed its example.
Carthoris drew his long-sword. The girl stole a quick glance
at his face. She saw the smile upon his lips, and it was as wine
to sick nerves; for even upon warlike Barsoom where all men are
brave, woman reacts quickly to quiet indifference to danger--to
dare-deviltry that is without bombast.
"You may return your sword," she said. "I told you that the banths
would not harm us. Look!" and as she spoke she stepped quickly
toward the nearest animal.
Carthoris would have leaped after her to protect her, but with a
gesture she motioned him back. He heard her calling to the banths
in a low, singsong voice that was half purr.
Instantly the great heads went up and all the wicked eyes
were riveted upon the figure of the girl. Then, stealthily, they
commenced moving toward her. She had stopped now and was standing
waiting them.
One, closer to her than the others, hesitated. She spoke to him
imperiously, as a master might speak to a refractory hound.
The great carnivore let its head droop, and with tail between its
legs came slinking to the girl's feet, and after it came the others
until she was entirely surrounded by the savage maneaters.
Turning she led them to where Carthoris stood. They growled a little
as they neared the man, but a few sharp words of command put them
in their places.
"How do you do it?" exclaimed Carthoris.
"Your father once asked me that same question in the galleries of
the Golden Cliffs within the Otz Mountains, beneath the temples of
the therns. I could not answer him, nor can I answer you. I do
not know whence comes my power over them, but ever since the day
that Sator Throg threw me among them in the banth pit of the Holy
Therns, and the great creatures fawned upon instead of devouring
me, I ever have had the same strange power over them. They come
at my call and do my bidding, even as the faithful Woola does the
bidding of your mighty sire."
With a word the girl dispersed the fierce pack. Roaring, they
returned to their interrupted feast, while Carthoris and Thuvia
passed among them toward the walled city.
As they advanced the man looked with wonder upon the dead bodies
of those of the green men that had not been devoured or mauled by
the banths.
He called the girl's attention to them. No arrows protruded from
the great carcasses. Nowhere upon any of them was the sign of
mortal wound, nor even slightest scratch or abrasion.
Before the bowmen's dead had disappeared the corpses of the Torquasians
had bristled with the deadly arrows of their foes. Where had the
slender messengers of death departed? What unseen hand had plucked
them from the bodies of the slain?
Despite himself Carthoris could scarce repress a shudder of
apprehension as he glanced toward the silent city before them. No
longer was sign of life visible upon wall or roof top. All was
quiet--brooding, ominous quiet.
Yet he was sure that eyes watched them from somewhere behind that
blank wall.
He glanced at Thuvia. She was advancing with wide eyes fixed upon
the city gate. He looked in the direction of her gaze, but saw
nothing.
His gaze upon her seemed to arouse her as from a lethargy. She
glanced up at him, a quick, brave smile touching her lips, and then,
as though the act was involuntary, she came close to his side and
placed one of her hands in his.
He guessed that something within her that was beyond her conscious
control was appealing to him for protection. He threw an arm about
her, and thus they crossed the field. She did not draw away from
him. It is doubtful that she realized that his arm was there, so
engrossed was she in the mystery of the strange city before them.
They stopped before the gate. It was a mighty thing. From its
construction Carthoris could but dimly speculate upon its unthinkable
antiquity.
It was circular, closing a circular aperture, and the Heliumite knew
from his study of ancient Barsoomian architecture that it rolled
to one side, like a huge wheel, into an aperture in the wall.
Even such world-old cities as ancient Aaanthor were as yet undreamed
of when the races lived that built such gates as these.
As he stood speculating upon the identity of this forgotten city,
a voice spoke to them from above. Both looked up. There, leaning
over the edge of the high wall, was a man.
His hair was auburn, his skin fair--fairer even than that of John
Carter, the Virginian. His forehead was high, his eyes large and
intelligent.
The language that he used was intelligible to the two below,
yet there was a marked difference between it and their Barsoomian
tongue.
"Who are you?" he asked. "And what do you here before the gate of
Lothar?"
"We are friends," replied Carthoris. "This be the princess,
Thuvia of Ptarth, who was captured by the Torquasian horde. I am
Carthoris of Helium, Prince of the house of Tardos Mors, Jeddak of
Helium, and son of John Carter, Warlord of Mars, and of his wife,
Dejah Thoris."
"`Ptarth'?" repeated the man. "`Helium'?" He shook his head. "I
never have heard of these places, nor did I know that there dwelt
upon Barsoom a race of thy strange colour. Where may these cities
lie, of which you speak? From our loftiest tower we have never
seen another city than Lothar."
Carthoris pointed toward the north-east.
"In that direction lie Helium and Ptarth," he said. "Helium is over
eight thousand haads from Lothar, while Ptarth lies nine thousand
five hundred haads north-east of Helium."[1]
[1]On Barsoom the AD is the basis of linear measurement. It is
the equivalent of an Earthly foot, measuring about 11.694 Earth
inches. As has been my custom in the past, I have generally
translated Barsoomian symbols of time, distance, etc., into their
Earthly equivalent, as being more easily understood by Earth readers.
For those of a more studious turn of mind it may be interesting
to know the Martian table of linear measurement, and so I give it
here:
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