Books: Thuvia, Maid of Mars
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Edgar Rice Burroughs >> Thuvia, Maid of Mars
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CHAPTER VIII
THE HALL OF DOOM
As Thuvia of Ptarth saw Carthoris depart from the presence of Tario,
leaving her alone with the man, a sudden qualm of terror seized
her.
There was an air of mystery pervading the stately chamber. Its
furnishings and appointments bespoke wealth and culture, and
carried the suggestion that the room was often the scene of royal
functions which filled it to its capacity.
And yet nowhere about her, in antechamber or corridor, was there
sign of any other being than herself and the recumbent figure of
Tario, the jeddak, who watched her through half-closed eyes from
the gorgeous trappings of his regal couch.
For a time after the departure of Jav and Carthoris the man eyed
her intently. Then he spoke.
"Come nearer," he said, and, as she approached: "Whose creature
are you? Who has dared materialize his imaginings of woman? It is
contrary to the customs and the royal edicts of Lothar. Tell me,
woman, from whose brain have you sprung? Jav's? No, do not deny
it. I know that it could be no other than that envious realist. He
seeks to tempt me. He would see me fall beneath the spell of your
charms, and then he, your master, would direct my destiny and--my
end. I see it all! I see it all!"
The blood of indignation and anger had been rising to Thuvia's
face. Her chin was up, a haughty curve upon her perfect lips.
"I know naught," she cried, "of what you are prating! I am Thuvia,
Princess of Ptarth. I am no man's `creature.' Never before to-day
did I lay eyes upon him you call Jav, nor upon your ridiculous city,
of which even the greatest nations of Barsoom have never dreamed.
"My charms are not for you, nor such as you. They are not for
sale or barter, even though the price were a real throne. And as
for using them to win your worse than futile power--" She ended
her sentence with a shrug of her shapely shoulders, and a little
scornful laugh.
When she had finished Tario was sitting upon the edge of his
couch, his feet upon the floor. He was leaning forward with eyes
no longer half closed, but wide with a startled expression in them.
He did not seem to note the LESE MAJESTE of her words and manner.
There was evidently something more startling and compelling about
her speech than that.
Slowly he came to his feet.
"By the fangs of Komal!" he muttered. "But you are REAL! A REAL
woman! No dream! No vain and foolish figment of the mind!"
He took a step toward her, with hands outstretched.
"Come!" he whispered. "Come, woman! For countless ages have I
dreamed that some day you would come. And now that you are here
I can scarce believe the testimony of my eyes. Even now, knowing
that you are real, I still half dread that you may be a lie."
Thuvia shrank back. She thought the man mad. Her hand stole to
the jewelled hilt of her dagger. The man saw the move, and stopped.
A cunning expression entered his eyes. Then they became at once
dreamy and penetrating as they fairly bored into the girl's brain.
Thuvia suddenly felt a change coming over her. What the cause of
it she did not guess; but somehow the man before her began to assume
a new relationship within her heart.
No longer was he a strange and mysterious enemy, but an old and
trusted friend. Her hand slipped from the dagger's hilt. Tario
came closer. He spoke gentle, friendly words, and she answered
him in a voice that seemed hers and yet another's.
He was beside her now. His hand was up her shoulder. His eyes
were down-bent toward hers. She looked up into his face. His
gaze seemed to bore straight through her to some hidden spring of
sentiment within her.
Her lips parted in sudden awe and wonder at the strange revealment
of her inner self that was being laid bare before her consciousness.
She had known Tario for ever. He was more than friend to her.
She moved a little closer to him. In one swift flood of light she
knew the truth. She loved Tario, Jeddak of Lothar! She had always
loved him.
The man, seeing the success of his strategy, could not restrain a
faint smile of satisfaction. Whether there was something in the
expression of his face, or whether from Carthoris of Helium in a
far chamber of the palace came a more powerful suggestion, who may
say? But something there was that suddenly dispelled the strange,
hypnotic influence of the man.
As though a mask had been torn from her eyes, Thuvia suddenly saw
Tario as she had formerly seen him, and, accustomed as she was to
the strange manifestations of highly developed mentality which are
common upon Barsoom, she quickly guessed enough of the truth to
know that she was in grave danger.
Quickly she took a step backward, tearing herself from his grasp.
But the momentary contact had aroused within Tario all the long-buried
passions of his loveless existence.
With a muffled cry he sprang upon her, throwing his arms about her
and attempting to drag her lips to his.
"Woman!" he cried. "Lovely woman! Tario would make you queen of
Lothar. Listen to me! Listen to the love of the last jeddaks of
Barsoom."
Thuvia struggled to free herself from his embrace.
"Stop, creature!" she cried. "Stop! I do not love you. Stop, or
I shall scream for help!"
Tario laughed in her face.
"`Scream for help,'" he mimicked. "And who within the halls of
Lothar is there who might come in answer to your call? Who would
dare enter the presence of Tario, unsummoned?"
"There is one," she replied, "who would come, and, coming, dare
to cut you down upon your own throne, if he thought that you had
offered affront to Thuvia of Ptarth!"
"Who, Jav?" asked Tario.
"Not Jav, nor any other soft-skinned Lotharian," she replied; "but
a real man, a real warrior--Carthoris of Helium!"
Again the man laughed at her.
"You forget the bowmen," he reminded her. "What could your red
warrior accomplish against my fearless legions?"
Again he caught her roughly to him, dragging her towards his couch.
"If you will not be my queen," he said, "you shall be my slave."
"Neither!" cried the girl.
As she spoke the single word there was a quick move of her right
hand; Tario, releasing her, staggered back, both hands pressed to
his side. At the same instant the room filled with bowmen, and
then the jeddak of Lothar sank senseless to the marble floor.
At the instant that he lost consciousness the bowmen were about to
release their arrows into Thuvia's heart. Involuntarily she gave
a single cry for help, though she knew that not even Carthoris of
Helium could save her now.
Then she closed her eyes and waited for the end. No slender shafts
pierced her tender side. She raised her lids to see what stayed
the hand of her executioners.
The room was empty save for herself and the still form of the jeddak
of Lothar lying at her feet, a little pool of crimson staining the
white marble of the floor beside him. Tario was unconscious.
Thuvia was amazed. Where were the bowmen? Why had they not loosed
their shafts? What could it all mean?
An instant before the room had been mysteriously filled with
armed men, evidently called to protect their jeddak; yet now, with
the evidence of her deed plain before them, they had vanished as
mysteriously as they had come, leaving her alone with the body of
their ruler, into whose side she had slipped her long, keen blade.
The girl glanced apprehensively about, first for signs of the return
of the bowmen, and then for some means of escape.
The wall behind the dais was pierced by two small doorways, hidden
by heavy hangings. Thuvia was running quickly towards one of
these when she heard the clank of a warrior's metal at the end of
the apartment behind her.
Ah, if she had but an instant more of time she could have reached
that screening arras and, perchance, have found some avenue of
escape behind it; but now it was too late--she had been discovered!
With a feeling that was akin to apathy she turned to meet her fate,
and there, before her, running swiftly across the broad chamber to
her side, was Carthoris, his naked long-sword gleaming in his hand.
For days she had doubted his intentions of the Heliumite. She
had thought him a party to her abduction. Since Fate had thrown
them together she had scarce favoured him with more than the most
perfunctory replies to his remarks, unless at such times as the
weird and uncanny happenings at Lothar had surprised her out of
her reserve.
She knew that Carthoris of Helium would fight for her; but whether
to save her for himself or another, she was in doubt.
He knew that she was promised to Kulan Tith, Jeddak of Kaol, but
if he had been instrumental in her abduction, his motives could
not be prompted by loyalty to his friend, or regard for her honour.
And yet, as she saw him coming across the marble floor of the audience
chamber of Tario of Lothar, his fine eyes filled with apprehension
for her safety, his splendid figure personifying all that is finest
in the fighting men of martial Mars, she could not believe that
any faintest trace of perfidy lurked beneath so glorious an exterior.
Never, she thought, in all her life had the sight of any man been
so welcome to her. It was with difficulty that she refrained from
rushing forward to meet him.
She knew that he loved her; but, in time, she recalled that she was
promised to Kulan Tith. Not even might she trust herself to show
too great gratitude to the Heliumite, lest he misunderstand.
Carthoris was by her side now. His quick glance had taken in the
scene within the room--the still figure of the jeddak sprawled upon
the floor--the girl hastening toward a shrouded exit.
"Did he harm you, Thuvia?" he asked.
She held up her crimsoned blade that he might see it.
"No," she said, "he did not harm me."
A grim smile lighted Carthoris' face.
"Praised be our first ancestor!" he murmured. "And now let us see
if we may not make good our escape from this accursed city before
the Lotharians discover that their jeddak is no more."
With the firm authority that sat so well upon him in whose veins
flowed the blood of John Carter of Virginia and Dejah Thoris
of Helium, he grasped her hand and, turning back across the hall,
strode toward the great doorway through which Jav had brought them
into the presence of the jeddak earlier in the day.
They had almost reached the threshold when a figure sprang into the
apartment through another entrance. It was Jav. He, too, took in
the scene within at a glance.
Carthoris turned to face him, his sword ready in his hand, and his
great body shielding the slender figure of the girl.
"Come, Jav of Lothar!" he cried. "Let us face the issue at once,
for only one of us may leave this chamber alive with Thuvia of
Ptarth." Then, seeing that the man wore no sword, he exclaimed:
"Bring on your bowmen, then, or come with us as my prisoner until
we have safely passed the outer portals of thy ghostly city."
"You have killed Tario!" exclaimed Jav, ignoring the other's
challenge. "You have killed Tario! I see his blood upon the
floor--real blood--real death. Tario was, after all, as real as I.
Yet he was an etherealist. He would not materialize his sustenance.
Can it be that they are right? Well, we, too, are right. And all
these ages we have been quarrelling--each saying that the other
was wrong!
"However, he is dead now. Of that I am glad. Now shall Jav come
into his own. Now shall Jav be Jeddak of Lothar!"
As he finished, Tario opened his eyes and then quickly sat up.
"Traitor! Assassin!" he screamed, and then: "Kadar! Kadar!"
which is the Barsoomian for guard.
Jav went sickly white. He fell upon his belly, wriggling toward
Tario.
"Oh, my Jeddak, my Jeddak!" he whimpered. "Jav had no hand in
this. Jav, your faithful Jav, but just this instant entered the
apartment to find you lying prone upon the floor and these two
strangers about to leave. How it happened I know not. Believe me,
most glorious Jeddak!"
"Cease, knave!" cried Tario. "I heard your words: `However, he
is dead now. Of that I am glad. Now shall Jav come into his own.
Now shall Jav be Jeddak of Lothar.'
"At last, traitor, I have found you out. Your own words have
condemned you as surely as the acts of these red creatures have
sealed their fates--unless--" He paused. "Unless the woman--"
But he got no further. Carthoris guessed what he would have said,
and before the words could be uttered he had sprung forward and
struck the man across the mouth with his open palm.
Tario frothed in rage and mortification.
"And should you again affront the Princess of Ptarth," warned the
Heliumite, "I shall forget that you wear no sword--not for ever
may I control my itching sword hand."
Tario shrank back toward the little doorways behind the dais. He
was trying to speak, but so hideously were the muscles of his face
working that he could utter no word for several minutes. At last
he managed to articulate intelligibly.
"Die!" he shrieked. "Die!" and then he turned toward the exit at
his back.
Jav leaped forward, screaming in terror.
"Have pity, Tario! Have pity! Remember the long ages that I have
served you faithfully. Remember all that I have done for Lothar.
Do not condemn me now to the death hideous. Save me! Save me!"
But Tario only laughed a mocking laugh and continued to back toward
the hangings that hid the little doorway.
Jav turned toward Carthoris.
"Stop him!" he screamed. "Stop him! If you love life, let him
not leave this room," and as he spoke he leaped in pursuit of his
jeddak.
Carthoris followed Jav's example, but the "last of the jeddaks
of Barsoom" was too quick for them. By the time they reached the
arras behind which he had disappeared, they found a heavy stone
door blocking their further progress.
Jav sank to the floor in a spasm of terror.
"Come, man!" cried Carthoris. "We are not dead yet. Let us
hasten to the avenues and make an attempt to leave the city. We
are still alive, and while we live we may yet endeavour to direct
our own destinies. Of what avail, to sink spineless to the floor?
Come, be a man!"
Jav but shook his head.
"Did you not hear him call the guards?" he moaned. "Ah, if we
could have but intercepted him! Then there might have been hope;
but, alas, he was too quick for us."
"Well, well," exclaimed Carthoris impatiently. "What if he did
call the guards? There will be time enough to worry about that
after they come--at present I see no indication that they have any
idea of over-exerting themselves to obey their jeddak's summons."
Jav shook his head mournfully.
"You do not understand," he said. "The guards have already
come--and gone. They have done their work and we are lost. Look
to the various exits."
Carthoris and Thuvia turned their eyes in the direction of the
several doorways which pierced the walls of the great chamber.
Each was tightly closed by huge stone doors.
"Well?" asked Carthoris.
"We are to die the death," whispered Jav faintly.
Further than that he would not say. He just sat upon the edge of
the jeddak's couch and waited.
Carthoris moved to Thuvia's side, and, standing there with naked
sword, he let his brave eyes roam ceaselessly about the great
chamber, that no foe might spring upon them unseen.
For what seemed hours no sound broke the silence of their living
tomb. No sign gave their executioners of the time or manner of
their death. The suspense was terrible. Even Carthoris of Helium
began to feel the terrible strain upon his nerves. If he could
but know how and whence the hand of death was to strike, he could
meet it unafraid, but to suffer longer the hideous tension of this
blighting ignorance of the plans of their assassins was telling
upon him grievously.
Thuvia of Ptarth drew quite close to him. She felt safer with the
feel of his arm against hers, and with the contact of her the man
took a new grip upon himself. With his old-time smile he turned
toward her.
"It would seem that they are trying to frighten us to death," he
said, laughing; "and, shame be upon me that I should confess it,
I think they were close to accomplishing their designs upon me."
She was about to make some reply when a fearful shriek broke from
the lips of the Lotharian.
"The end is coming!" he cried. "The end is coming! The floor!
The floor! Oh, Komal, be merciful!"
Thuvia and Carthoris did not need to look at the floor to be aware
of the strange movement that was taking place.
Slowly the marble flagging was sinking in all directions toward
the centre. At first the movement, being gradual, was scarce
noticeable; but presently the angle of the floor became such that
one might stand easily only by bending one knee considerably.
Jav was shrieking still, and clawing at the royal couch that had
already commenced to slide toward the centre of the room, where both
Thuvia and Carthoris suddenly noted a small orifice which grew in
diameter as the floor assumed more closely a funnel-like contour.
Now it became more and more difficult to cling to the dizzy
inclination of the smooth and polished marble.
Carthoris tried to support Thuvia, but himself commenced to slide
and slip toward the ever-enlarging aperture.
Better to cling to the smooth stone he kicked off his sandals
of zitidar hide and with his bare feet braced himself against the
sickening tilt, at the same time throwing his arms supportingly
about the girl.
In her terror her own hands clasped about the man's neck. Her
cheek was close to his. Death, unseen and of unknown form, seemed
close upon them, and because unseen and unknowable infinitely more
terrifying.
"Courage, my princess," he whispered.
She looked up into his face to see smiling lips above hers and
brave eyes, untouched by terror, drinking deeply of her own.
Then the floor sagged and tilted more swiftly. There was a sudden
slipping rush as they were precipitated toward the aperture.
Jav's screams rose weird and horrible in their ears, and then the
three found themselves piled upon the royal couch of Tario, which
had stuck within the aperture at the base of the marble funnel.
For a moment they breathed more freely, but presently they discovered
that the aperture was continuing to enlarge. The couch slipped
downward. Jav shrieked again. There was a sickening sensation as
they felt all let go beneath them, as they fell through darkness
to an unknown death.
CHAPTER IX
THE BATTLE IN THE PLAIN
The distance from the bottom of the funnel to the floor of the
chamber beneath it could not have been great, for all three of the
victims of Tario's wrath alighted unscathed.
Carthoris, still clasping Thuvia tightly to his breast, came to
the ground catlike, upon his feet, breaking the shock for the girl.
Scarce had his feet touched the rough stone flagging of this new
chamber than his sword flashed out ready for instant use. But
though the room was lighted, there was no sign of enemy about.
Carthoris looked toward Jav. The man was pasty white with fear.
"What is to be our fate?" asked the Heliumite. "Tell me, man!
Shake off your terror long enough to tell me, so I may be prepared
to sell my life and that of the Princess of Ptarth as dearly as
possible."
"Komal!" whispered Jav. "We are to be devoured by Komal!"
"Your deity?" asked Carthoris.
The Lotharian nodded his head. Then he pointed toward a low doorway
at one end of the chamber.
"From thence will he come upon us. Lay aside your puny sword, fool.
It will but enrage him the more and make our sufferings the worse."
Carthoris smiled, gripping his long-sword the more firmly.
Presently Jav gave a horrified moan, at the same time pointing
toward the door.
"He has come," he whimpered.
Carthoris and Thuvia looked in the direction the Lotharian had
indicated, expecting to see some strange and fearful creature in
human form; but to their astonishment they saw the broad head and
great-maned shoulders of a huge banth, the largest that either ever
had seen.
Slowly and with dignity the mighty beast advanced into the room.
Jav had fallen to the floor, and was wriggling his body in the same
servile manner that he had adopted toward Tario. He spoke to the
fierce beast as he would have spoken to a human being, pleading
with it for mercy.
Carthoris stepped between Thuvia and the banth, his sword ready to
contest the beast's victory over them. Thuvia turned toward Jav.
"Is this Komal, your god?" she asked.
Jav nodded affirmatively. The girl smiled, and then, brushing past
Carthoris, she stepped swiftly toward the growling carnivore.
In low, firm tones she spoke to it as she had spoken to the banths
of the Golden Cliffs and the scavengers before the walls of Lothar.
The beast ceased its growling. With lowered head and catlike purr,
it came slinking to the girl's feet. Thuvia turned toward Carthoris.
"It is but a banth," she said. "We have nothing to fear from it."
Carthoris smiled.
"I did not fear it," he replied, "for I, too, believed it to be
only a banth, and I have my long-sword."
Jav sat up and gazed at the spectacle before him--the slender girl
weaving her fingers in the tawny mane of the huge creature that he
had thought divine, while Komal rubbed his hideous snout against
her side.
"So this is your god!" laughed Thuvia.
Jav looked bewildered. He scarce knew whether he dare chance
offending Komal or not, for so strong is the power of superstition
that even though we know that we have been reverencing a sham, yet
still we hesitate to admit the validity of our new-found convictions.
"Yes," he said, "this is Komal. For ages the enemies of Tario have
been hurled to this pit to fill his maw, for Komal must be fed."
"Is there any way out of this chamber to the avenues of the city?"
asked Carthoris.
Jav shrugged.
"I do not know," he replied. "Never have I been here before, nor
ever have I cared to do so."
"Come," suggested Thuvia, "let us explore. There must be a way
out."
Together the three approached the doorway through which Komal had
entered the apartment that was to have witnessed their deaths.
Beyond was a low-roofed lair, with a small door at the far end.
This, to their delight, opened to the lifting of an ordinary latch,
letting them into a circular arena, surrounded by tiers of seats.
"Here is where Komal is fed in public," explained Jav. "Had Tario
dared it would have been here that our fates had been sealed; but
he feared too much thy keen blade, red man, and so he hurled us
all downward to the pit. I did not know how closely connected were
the two chambers. Now we may easily reach the avenues and the city
gates. Only the bowmen may dispute the right of way, and, knowing
their secret, I doubt that they have power to harm us."
Another door led to a flight of steps that rose from the arena
level upward through the seats to an exit at the back of the hall.
Beyond this was a straight, broad corridor, running directly through
the palace to the gardens at the side.
No one appeared to question them as they advanced, mighty Komal
pacing by the girl's side.
"Where are the people of the palace--the jeddak's retinue?" asked
Carthoris. "Even in the city streets as we came through I scarce
saw sign of a human being, yet all about are evidences of a mighty
population."
Jav sighed.
"Poor Lothar," he said. "It is indeed a city of ghosts. There are
scarce a thousand of us left, who once were numbered in the millions.
Our great city is peopled by the creatures of our own imaginings.
For our own needs we do not take the trouble to materialize these
peoples of our brain, yet they are apparent to us.
"Even now I see great throngs lining the avenue, hastening to and
fro in the round of their duties. I see women and children laughing
on the balconies--these we are forbidden to materialize; but yet
I see them--they are here. . . . But why not?" he mused. "No
longer need I fear Tario--he has done his worst, and failed. Why
not indeed?
"Stay, friends," he continued. "Would you see Lothar in all her
glory?"
Carthoris and Thuvia nodded their assent, more out of courtesy than
because they fully grasped the import of his mutterings.
Jav gazed at them penetratingly for an instant, then, with a wave
of his hand, cried: "Look!"
The sight that met them was awe-inspiring. Where before there
had been naught but deserted pavements and scarlet swards, yawning
windows and tenantless doors, now swarmed a countless multitude of
happy, laughing people.
"It is the past," said Jav in a low voice. "They do not see us--they
but live the old dead past of ancient Lothar--the dead and crumbled
Lothar of antiquity, which stood upon the shore of Throxus, mightiest
of the five oceans.
"See those fine, upstanding men swinging along the broad avenue?
See the young girls and the women smile upon them? See the men
greet them with love and respect? Those be seafarers coming up
from their ships which lie at the quays at the city's edge.
"Brave men, they--ah, but the glory of Lothar has faded! See their
weapons. They alone bore arms, for they crossed the five seas to
strange places where dangers were. With their passing passed the
martial spirit of the Lotharians, leaving, as the ages rolled by,
a race of spineless cowards.
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