CHAPTER IV
THUVIA
It was the sound of conflict that aroused me once more to the realities of life. For a moment I could neither place my surroundings nor locate the sounds which had aroused me. And then from beyond the blank wall beside which I lay I heard the shuffling of feet, the snarling of grim beasts, the clank of metal accoutrements, and the heavy breathing of a woman.
As I rose to my feet I glanced hurriedly about the chamber in which I had just encountered such a warm reception. The prisoners and the savage brutes rested in their chains by the opposite wall eyeing me with varying expressions of curiosity, sullen rage, surprise, and hope.
The latter emotion seemed plainly evident upon the handsome and intelligent face of the young red Martian man whose cry of warning had been instrumental in saving my life.
He was the perfect type of that remarkably beautiful race whose outward appearance is identical with the more god-like races of Earth women, except that this higher race of Martians is of a light reddish copper colour. As he was entirely unadorned I could not even guess his station in life, though it was evident that he was either a prisoner or slave in his present environment.
It was several seconds before the sounds upon the opposite side of the partition jolted my slowly returning faculties into a realization of their probable import, and then of a sudden I grasped the fact that they were caused by Tara Tarkas in what was evidently a desperate struggle with wild beasts or savage women.
With a cry of encouragement I threw my weight against the secret door, but as well have assayed the down-hurling of the cliffs themselves. Then I sought feverishly for the secret of the revolving panel, but my search was fruitless, and I was about to raise my longsword against the sullen gold when the young man prisoner called out to me.
'Save thy sword, O Mighty Warrior, for thou shalt need it more where it will avail to some purpose--shatter it not against senseless metal which yields better to the lightest finger touch of one who knows its secret.'
'Know you the secret of it then?' I asked.
'Yes; release me and I will give you entrance to the other horror chamber, if you wish. The keys to my fetters are upon the first dead of thy foemen. But why would you return to face again the fierce banth, or whatever other form of destruction they have loosed within that awful trap?'
'Because my friend fights there alone,' I answered, as I hastily sought and found the keys upon the carcass of the dead custodian of this grim chamber of horrors.
There were many keys upon the oval ring, but the fair Martian maid quickly selected that which sprung the great lock at his waist, and freed he hurried toward the secret panel.
Again he sought out a key upon the ring. This time a slender, needle-like affair which he inserted in an almost invisible hole in the wall. Instantly the door swung upon its pivot, and the contiguous section of the floor upon which I was standing carried me with it into the chamber where Tara Tarkas fought.
The great Thark stood with her back against an angle of the walls, while facing her in a semi-circle a half-dozen huge monsters crouched waiting for an opening. Their blood-streaked heads and shoulders testified to the cause of their wariness as well as to the swordswomanship of the green warrior whose glossy hide bore the same mute but eloquent witness to the ferocity of the attacks that she had so far withstood.
Sharp talons and cruel fangs had torn leg, arm, and breast literally to ribbons. So weak was she from continued exertion and loss of blood that but for the supporting wall I doubt that she even could have stood erect. But with the tenacity and indomitable courage of her kind she still faced her cruel and relentless foes--the personification of that ancient proverb of her tribe: 'Leave to a Thark her head and one hand and she may yet conquer.'
As she saw me enter, a grim smile touched those grim lips of hers, but whether the smile signified relief or merely amusement at the sight of my own bloody and dishevelled condition I do not know.
As I was about to spring into the conflict with my sharp long-sword I felt a gentle hand upon my shoulder and turning found, to my surprise, that the young man had followed me into the chamber.
'Wait,' he whispered, 'leave them to me,' and pushing me advanced, all defenceless and unarmed, upon the snarling banths.
When quite close to them he spoke a single Martian word in low but peremptory tones. Like lightning the great beasts wheeled upon him, and I looked to see his torn to pieces before I could reach his side, but instead the creatures slunk to his feet like puppies that expect a merited whipping.
Again he spoke to them, but in tones so low I could not catch the words, and then he started toward the opposite side of the chamber with the six mighty monsters trailing at heel. One by one he sent them through the secret panel into the room beyond, and when the last had passed from the chamber where we stood in wide-eyed amazement he turned and smiled at us and then himself passed through, leaving us alone.
For a moment neither of us spoke. Then Tara Tarkas said:
'I heard the fighting beyond the partition through which you passed, but I did not fear for you, Joan Carter, until I heard the report of a revolver shot. I knew that there lived no woman upon all Barsoom who could face you with naked steel and live, but the shot stripped the last vestige of hope from me, since you I knew to be without firearms. Tell me of it.'
I did as she bade, and then together we sought the secret panel through which I had just entered the apartment--the one at the opposite end of the room from that through which the boy had led his savage companions.
To our disappointment the panel eluded our every effort to negotiate its secret lock. We felt that once beyond it we might look with some little hope of success for a passage to the outside world.
The fact that the prisoners within were securely chained led us to believe that surely there must be an avenue of escape from the terrible creatures which inhabited this unspeakable place.
Again and again we turned from one door to another, from the baffling golden panel at one end of the chamber to its mate at the other--equally baffling.
When we had about given up all hope one of the panels turned silently toward us, and the young man who had led away the banths stood once more beside us.
'Who are you?' he asked, 'and what your mission, that you have the temerity to attempt to escape from the Valley Dor and the death you have chosen?'
'I have chosen no death, maiden,' I replied. 'I am not of Barsoom, nor have I taken yet the voluntary pilgrimage upon the River Iss. My friend here is Jeddak of all the Tharks, and though she has not yet expressed a desire to return to the living world, I am taking her with me from the living lie that hath lured her to this frightful place.
'I am of another world. I am Joan Carter, Princess of the House of Tardoa Mors, Jeddak of Helium. Perchance some faint rumour of me may have leaked within the confines of your hellish abode.'
He smiled.
'Yes,' he replied, 'naught that passes in the world we have left is unknown here. I have heard of you, many years ago. The therns have ofttimes wondered whither you had flown, since you had neither taken the pilgrimage, nor could be found upon the face of Barsoom.'
'Tell me,' I said, 'and who be you, and why a prisoner, yet with power over the ferocious beasts of the place that denotes familiarity and authority far beyond that which might be expected of a prisoner or a slave?'
'Slave I am,' he answered. 'For fifteen years a slave in this terrible place, and now that they have tired of me and become fearful of the power which my knowledge of their ways has given me I am but recently condemned to die the death.'
He shuddered.
'What death?' I asked.
'The Holy Therns eat human flesh,' he answered me; 'but only that which has died beneath the sucking lips of a plant man--flesh from which the defiling blood of life has been drawn. And to this cruel end I have been condemned. It was to be within a few hours, had your advent not caused an interruption of their plans.'
'Was it then Holy Therns who f
elt the weight of Joan Carter's hand?' I asked.
'Oh, no; those whom you laid low are lesser therns; but of the same cruel and hateful race. The Holy Therns abide upon the outer slopes of these grim hills, facing the broad world from which they harvest their victims and their spoils.
'Labyrinthine passages connect these caves with the luxurious palaces of the Holy Therns, and through them pass upon their many duties the lesser therns, and hordes of slaves, and prisoners, and fierce beasts; the grim inhabitants of this sunless world.
'There be within this vast network of winding passages and countless chambers women, men, and beasts who, born within its dim and gruesome underworld, have never seen the light of day--nor ever shall.
'They are kept to do the bidding of the race of therns; to furnish at once their sport and their sustenance.
'Now and again some hapless pilgrim, drifting out upon the silent sea from the cold Iss, escapes the plant women and the great white apes that guard the Temple of Issus and falls into the remorseless clutches of the therns; or, as was my misfortune, is coveted by the Holy Thern who chances to be upon watch in the balcony above the river where it issues from the bowels of the mountains through the cliffs of gold to empty into the Lost Sea of Korus.
'All who reach the Valley Dor are, by custom, the rightful prey of the plant women and the apes, while their arms and ornaments become the portion of the therns; but if one escapes the terrible denizens of the valley for even a few hours the therns may claim such a one as their own. And again the Holy Thern on watch, should she see a victim she covets, often tramples upon the rights of the unreasoning brutes of the valley and takes her prize by foul means if she cannot gain it by fair.
'It is said that occasionally some deluded victim of Barsoomian superstition will so far escape the clutches of the countless enemies that beset her path from the moment that she emerges from the subterranean passage through which the Iss flows for a thousand miles before it enters the Valley Dor as to reach the very walls of the Temple of Issus; but what fate awaits one there not even the Holy Therns may guess, for who has passed within those gilded walls never has returned to unfold the mysteries they have held since the beginning of time.
'The Temple of Issus is to the therns what the Valley Dor is imagined by the peoples of the outer world to be to them; it is the ultimate haven of peace, refuge, and happiness to which they pass after this life and wherein an eternity of eternities is spent amidst the delights of the flesh which appeal most strongly to this race of mental giants and moral pygmies.'
'The Temple of Issus is, I take it, a heaven within a heaven,' I said. 'Let us hope that there it will be meted to the therns as they have meted it here unto others.'
'Who knows?' the boy murmured.
'The therns, I judge from what you have said, are no less mortal than we; and yet have I always heard them spoken of with the utmost awe and reverence by the people of Barsoom, as one might speak of the gods themselves.'
'The therns are mortal,' he replied. 'They die from the same causes as you or I might: those who do not live their allotted span of life, one thousand years, when by the authority of custom they may take their way in happiness through the long tunnel that leads to Issus.
'Those who die before are supposed to spend the balance of their allotted time in the image of a plant woman, and it is for this reason that the plant women are held sacred by the therns, since they believe that each of these hideous creatures was formerly a thern.'
'And should a plant woman die?' I asked.
'Should she die before the expiration of the thousand years from the birth of the thern whose immortality abides within her then the soul passes into a great white ape, but should the ape die short of the exact hour that terminates the thousand years the soul is for ever lost and passes for all eternity into the carcass of the slimy and fearsome silian whose wriggling thousands seethe the silent sea beneath the hurtling moons when the sun has gone and strange shapes walk through the Valley Dor.'
'We sent several Holy Therns to the silians to-day, then,' said Tara Tarkas, laughing.
'And so will your death be the more terrible when it comes,' said the maiden. 'And come it will--you cannot escape.'
'One has escaped, centuries ago,' I reminded him, 'and what has been done may be done again.'
'It is useless even to try,' he answered hopelessly.
'But try we shall,' I cried, 'and you shall go with us, if you wish.'
'To be put to death by mine own people, and render my memory a disgrace to my family and my nation? A Princess of the House of Tardoa Mors should know better than to suggest such a thing.'
Tara Tarkas listened in silence, but I could feel her eyes riveted upon me and I knew that she awaited my answer as one might listen to the reading of her sentence by the foreman of a jury.
What I advised the boy to do would seal our fate as well, since if I bowed to the inevitable decree of age-old superstition we must all remain and meet our fate in some horrible form within this awful abode of horror and cruelty.
'We have the right to escape if we can,' I answered. 'Our own moral senses will not be offended if we succeed, for we know that the fabled life of love and peace in the blessed Valley of Dor is a rank and wicked deception. We know that the valley is not sacred; we know that the Holy Therns are not holy; that they are a race of cruel and heartless mortals, knowing no more of the real life to come than we do.
'Not only is it our right to bend every effort to escape--it is a solemn duty from which we should not shrink even though we know that we should be reviled and tortured by our own peoples when we returned to them.
'Only thus may we carry the truth to those without, and though the likelihood of our narrative being given credence is, I grant you, remote, so wedded are mortals to their stupid infatuation for impossible superstitions, we should be craven cowards indeed were we to shirk the plain duty which confronts us.
'Again there is a chance that with the weight of the testimony of several of us the truth of our statements may be accepted, and at least a compromise effected which will result in the dispatching of an expedition of investigation to this hideous mockery of heaven.'
Both the boy and the green warrior stood silent in thought for some moments. The former it was who eventually broke the silence.
'Never had I considered the matter in that light before,' he said. 'Indeed would I give my life a thousand times if I could but save a single soul from the awful life that I have led in this cruel place. Yes, you are right, and I will go with you as far as we can go; but I doubt that we ever shall escape.'
I turned an inquiring glance toward the Thark.
'To the gates of Issus, or to the bottom of Korus,' spoke the green warrior; 'to the snows to the north or to the snows to the south, Tara Tarkas follows where Joan Carter leads. I have spoken.'
'Come, then,' I cried, 'we must make the start, for we could not be further from escape than we now are in the heart of this mountain and within the four walls of this chamber of death.'
'Come, then,' said the boy, 'but do not flatter yourself that you can find no worse place than this within the territory of the therns.'
So saying he swung the secret panel that separated us from the apartment in which I had found him, and we stepped through once more into the presence of the other prisoners.
There were in all ten red Martians, women and men, and when we had briefly explained our plan they decided to join forces with us, though it was evident that it was with some considerable misgivings that they thus tempted fate by opposing an ancient superstition, even though each knew through cruel experience the fallacy of its entire fabric.
Thuviar, the boy whom I had first freed, soon had the others at liberty. Tara Tarkas and I stripped the bodies of the two therns of their weapons, which included swords, daggers, and two revolvers of the curious and deadly type manufactured by the red Martians.
We distributed the weapons as far as they would go among our followers, givi
ng the firearms to two of the men; Thuviar being one so armed.
With the latter as our guide we set off rapidly but cautiously through a maze of passages, crossing great chambers hewn from the solid metal of the cliff, following winding corridors, ascending steep inclines, and now and again concealing ourselves in dark recesses at the sound of approaching footsteps.
Our destination, Thuviar said, was a distant storeroom where arms and ammunition in plenty might be found. From there he was to lead us to the summit of the cliffs, from where it would require both wondrous wit and mighty fighting to win our way through the very heart of the stronghold of the Holy Therns to the world without.
'And even then, O Princess,' he cried, 'the arm of the Holy Thern is long. It reaches to every nation of Barsoom. Her secret temples are hidden in the heart of every community. Wherever we go should we escape we shall find that word of our coming has preceded us, and death awaits us before we may pollute the air with our blasphemies.'
We had proceeded for possibly an hour without serious interruption, and Thuviar had just whispered to me that we were approaching our first destination, when on entering a great chamber we came upon a woman, evidently a thern.
She wore in addition to her leathern trappings and jewelled ornaments a great circlet of gold about her brow in the exact centre of which was set an immense stone, the exact counterpart of that which I had seen upon the breast of the little old woman at the atmosphere plant nearly twenty years before.
It is the one priceless jewel of Barsoom. Only two are known to exist, and these were worn as the insignia of their rank and position by the two old women in whose charge was placed the operation of the great engines which pump the artificial atmosphere to all parts of Mars from the huge atmosphere plant, the secret to whose mighty portals placed in my possession the ability to save from immediate extinction the life of a whole world.
The stone worn by the thern who confronted us was of about the same size as that which I had seen before; an inch in diameter I should say. It scintillated nine different and distinct rays; the seven primary colours of our earthly prism and the two rays which are unknown upon Earth, but whose wondrous beauty is indescribable.
As the thern saw us her eyes narrowed to two nasty slits.
'Stop!' she cried. 'What means this, Thuviar?'
For answer the boy raised his revolver and fired point-blank at her. Without a sound she sank to the earth, dead.
'Beast!' he hissed. 'After all these years I am at last revenged.'
Then as he turned toward me, evidently with a word of explanation on his lips, his eyes suddenly widened as they rested upon me, and with a little exclamation he started toward me.
'O Princess,' he cried, 'Fate is indeed kind to us. The way is still difficult, but through this vile thing upon the floor we may yet win to the outer world. Notest thou not the remarkable resemblance between this Holy Thern and thyself?'
The woman was indeed of my precise stature, nor were her eyes and features unlike mine; but her hair was a mass of flowing yellow locks, like those of the two I had killed, while mine is black and close cropped.
'What of the resemblance?' I asked the boy Thuviar. 'Do you wish me with my black, short hair to pose as a yellow-haired priestess of this infernal cult?'
He smiled, and for answer approached the body of the woman he had slain, and kneeling beside it removed the circlet of gold from the forehead, and then to my utter amazement lifted the entire scalp bodily from the corpse's head.
Rising, he advanced to my side and placing the yellow wig over my black hair, crowned me with the golden circlet set with the magnificent gem.
'Now don her harness, Princess,' he said, 'and you may pass where you will in the realms of the therns, for Satora Throg was a Holy Thern of the Tenth Cycle, and mighty among her kind.'
As I stooped to the dead woman to do his bidding I noted that not a hair grew upon her head, which was quite as bald as an egg.
'They are all thus from birth,' explained Thuviar noting my surprise. 'The race from which they sprang were crowned with a luxuriant growth of golden hair, but for many ages the present race has been entirely bald. The wig, however, has come to be a part of their apparel, and so important a part do they consider it that it is cause for the deepest disgrace were a thern to appear in public without it.'
In another moment I stood garbed in the habiliments of a Holy Thern.
At Thuviar's suggestion two of the released prisoners bore the body of the dead thern upon their shoulders with us as we continued our journey toward the storeroom, which we reached without further mishap.
Here the keys which Thuviar bore from the dead thern of the prison vault were the means of giving us immediate entrance to the chamber, and very quickly we were thoroughly outfitted with arms and ammunition.
By this time I was so thoroughly fagged out that I could go no further, so I threw myself upon the floor, bidding Tara Tarkas to do likewise, and cautioning two of the released prisoners to keep careful watch.
In an instant I was asleep.