CHAPTER XII
TO SAVE DUSAR
Thuvia of Ptarth, battling for more than life against the lust ofJav, cast a quick glance over her shoulder toward the forest fromwhich had rumbled the fierce growl. Jav looked, too.
What they saw filled each with apprehension. It was Komal, thebanth-god, rushing wide-jawed upon them!
Which had he chosen for his prey? Or was it to be both?
They had not long to wait, for though the Lotharian attempted tohold the girl between himself and the terrible fangs, the greatbeast found him at last.
Then, shrieking, he attempted to fly toward Lothar, after pushingThuvia bodily into the face of the man-eater. But his flight wasof short duration. In a moment Komal was upon him, rending histhroat and chest with demoniacal fury.
The girl reached their side a moment later, but it was with difficultythat she tore the mad beast from its prey. Still growling andcasting hungry glances back upon Jav, the banth at last permitteditself to be led away into the wood.
With her giant protector by her side Thuvia set forth to find thepassage through the cliffs, that she might attempt the seeminglyimpossible feat of reaching far-distant Ptarth across the more thanseventeen thousand haads of savage Barsoom.
She could not believe that Carthoris had deliberately deserted her,and so she kept a constant watch for him; but as she bore too farto the north in her search for the tunnel she passed the Heliumiteas he was returning to Lothar in search of her.
Thuvia of Ptarth was having difficulty in determining the exactstatus of the Prince of Helium in her heart. She could not admiteven to herself that she loved him, and yet she had permitted himto apply to her that term of endearment and possession to whicha Barsoomian maid should turn deaf ears when voiced by other lipsthan those of her husband or fiance--"my princess."
Kulan Tith, Jeddak of Kaol, to whom she was affianced, commandedher respect and admiration. Had it been that she had surrenderedto her father's wishes because of pique that the handsome Heliumitehad not taken advantage of his visits to her father's courtto push the suit for her hand that she had been quite sure he hadcontemplated since that distant day the two had sat together uponthe carved seat within the gorgeous Garden of the Jeddaks thatgraced the inner courtyard of the palace of Salensus Oll at Kadabra?
Did she love Kulan Tith? Bravely she tried to believe that shedid; but all the while her eyes wandered through the coming darknessfor the figure of a clean-limbed fighting man--black-haired andgrey-eyed. Black was the hair of Kulan Tith; but his eyes werebrown.
It was almost dark when she found the entrance to the tunnel. Safelyshe passed through to the hills beyond, and here, under the brightlight of Mars' two moons, she halted to plan her future action.
Should she wait here in the hope that Carthoris would return insearch of her? Or should she continue her way north-east towardPtarth? Where, first, would Carthoris have gone after leaving thevalley of Lothar?
Her parched throat and dry tongue gave her the answer--towardAaanthor and water. Well, she, too, would go first to Aaanthor,where she might find more than the water she needed.
With Komal by her side she felt little fear, for he would protecther from all other savage beasts. Even the great white apes wouldflee the mighty banth in terror. Men only need she fear, but shemust take this and many other chances before she could hope toreach her father's court again.
When at last Carthoris found her, only to be struck down by thelong-sword of a green man, Thuvia prayed that the same fate mightovertake her.
The sight of the red warriors leaping from their fliers had, for amoment, filled her with renewed hope--hope that Carthoris of Heliummight be only stunned and that they would rescue him; but when shesaw the Dusarian metal upon their harness, and that they soughtonly to escape with her alone from the charging Torquasians, shegave up.
Komal, too, was dead--dead across the body of the Heliumite. Shewas, indeed, alone now. There was none to protect her.
The Dusarian warriors dragged her to the deck of the nearest flier.All about them the green warriors surged in an attempt to wresther from the red.
At last those who had not died in the conflict gained the decksof the two craft. The engines throbbed and purred--the propellerswhirred. Quickly the swift boats shot heavenward.
Thuvia of Ptarth glanced about her. A man stood near, smiling downinto her face. With a gasp of recognition she looked full intohis eyes, and then with a little moan of terror and understandingshe buried her face in her hands and sank to the polished skeel-wooddeck. It was Astok, Prince of Dusar, who bent above her.
Swift were the fliers of Astok of Dusar, and great the need forreaching his father's court as quickly as possible, for the fleetsof war of Helium and Ptarth and Kaol were scattered far and wideabove Barsoom. Nor would it go well with Astok of Dusar shouldany one of them discover Thuvia of Ptarth a prisoner upon his ownvessel.
Aaanthor lies in fifty south latitude, and forty east of Horz, thedeserted seat of ancient Barsoomian culture and learning, whileDusar lies fifteen degrees north of the equator and twenty degreeseast from Horz.
Great though the distance is, the fliers covered it without a stop.Long before they had reached their destination Thuvia of Ptarth hadlearned several things that cleared up the doubts that had assailedher mind for many days. Scarce had they risen above Aaanthor thanshe recognized one of the crew as a member of the crew of that otherflier that had borne her from her father's gardens to Aaanthor.The presence of Astok upon the craft settled the whole question.She had been stolen by emissaries of the Dusarian prince--Carthorisof Helium had had nothing to do with it.
Nor did Astok deny the charge when she accused him. He only smiledand pleaded his love for her.
"I would sooner mate with a white ape!" she cried, when he wouldhave urged his suit.
Astok glowered sullenly upon her.
"You shall mate with me, Thuvia of Ptarth," he growled, "or, byyour first ancestor, you shall have your preference--and mate witha white ape."
The girl made no reply, nor could he draw her into conversationduring the balance of the journey.
As a matter of fact Astok was a trifle awed by the proportionsof the conflict which his abduction of the Ptarthian princess hadinduced, nor was he over comfortable with the weight of responsibilitywhich the possession of such a prisoner entailed.
His one thought was to get her to Dusar, and there let his fatherassume the responsibility. In the meantime he would be as carefulas possible to do nothing to affront her, lest they all might becaptured and he have to account for his treatment of the girl toone of the great jeddaks whose interest centred in her.
And so at last they came to Dusar, where Astok hid his prisoner ina secret room high in the east tower of his own palace. He hadsworn his men to silence in the matter of the identity of the girl,for until he had seen his father, Nutus, Jeddak of Dusar, he darednot let any one know whom he had brought with him from the south.
But when he appeared in the great audience chamber before thecruel-lipped man who was his sire, he found his courage oozing,and he dared not speak of the princess hid within his palace. Itoccurred to him to test his father's sentiments upon the subject,and so he told a tale of capturing one who claimed to know thewhereabouts of Thuvia of Ptarth.
"And if you command it, Sire," he said, "I will go and captureher--fetching her here to Dusar."
Nutus frowned and shook his head.
"You have done enough already to set Ptarth and Kaol and Heliumall three upon us at once should they learn your part in the theftof the Ptarth princess. That you succeeded in shifting the guiltupon the Prince of Helium was fortunate, and a masterly move ofstrategy; but were the girl to know the truth and ever return toher father's court, all Dusar would have to pay the penalty, and tohave her here a prisoner amongst us would be an admission of guiltfrom the consequences of which naught could save us. It would costme my throne, Astok, and that I have no mind to lose.
&
nbsp; "If we had her here--" the elder man suddenly commenced to muse,repeating the phrase again and again. "If we had her here, Astok,"he exclaimed fiercely. "Ah, if we but had her here and none knewthat she was here! Can you not guess, man? The guilt of Dusarmight be for ever buried with her bones," he concluded in a low,savage whisper.
Astok, Prince of Dusar, shuddered.
Weak he was; yes, and wicked, too; but the suggestion that hisfather's words implied turned him cold with horror.
Cruel to their enemies are the men of Mars; but the word "enemies"is commonly interpreted to mean men only. Assassination runs riotin the great Barsoomian cities; yet to murder a woman is a crimeso unthinkable that even the most hardened of the paid assassinswould shrink from you in horror should you suggest such a thing tohim.
Nutus was apparently oblivious to his son's all-too-patent terrorat his suggestion. Presently he continued:
"You say that you know where the girl lies hid, since she was stolenfrom your people at Aaanthor. Should she be found by any one ofthe three powers, her unsupported story would be sufficient to turnthem all against us.
"There is but one way, Astok," cried the older man. "You must returnat once to her hiding-place and fetch her hither in all secrecy.And, look you here! Return not to Dusar without her, upon pain ofdeath!"
Astok, Prince of Dusar, well knew his royal father's temper. Heknew that in the tyrant's heart there pulsed no single throb oflove for any creature.
Astok's mother had been a slave woman. Nutus had never loved her.He had never loved another. In youth he had tried to find a brideat the courts of several of his powerful neighbours, but theirwomen would have none of him.
After a dozen daughters of his own nobility had sought self-destructionrather than wed him he had given up. And then it had been thathe had legally wed one of his slaves that he might have a son tostand among the jeds when Nutus died and a new jeddak was chosen.
Slowly Astok withdrew from the presence of his father. With whiteface and shaking limbs he made his way to his own palace. As hecrossed the courtyard his glance chanced to wander to the greateast tower looming high against the azure of the sky.
At sight of it beads of sweat broke out upon his brow.
Issus! No other hand than his could be trusted to do the horridthing. With his own fingers he must crush the life from thatperfect throat, or plunge the silent blade into the red, red heart.
Her heart! The heart that he had hoped would brim with love forhim!
But had it done so? He recalled the haughty contempt with which hisprotestations of love had been received. He went cold and then hotto the memory of it. His compunctions cooled as the self-satisfactionof a near revenge crowded out the finer instincts that had fora moment asserted themselves--the good that he had inherited fromthe slave woman was once again submerged in the bad blood that hadcome down to him from his royal sire; as, in the end, it alwayswas.
A cold smile supplanted the terror that had dilated his eyes. Heturned his steps toward the tower. He would see her before he setout upon the journey that was to blind his father to the fact thatthe girl was already in Dusar.
Quietly he passed in through the secret way, ascending a spiralrunway to the apartment in which the Princess of Ptarth was immured.
As he entered the room he saw the girl leaning upon the sill ofthe east casement, gazing out across the roof tops of Dusar towarddistant Ptarth. He hated Ptarth. The thought of it filled himwith rage. Why not finish her now and have it done with?
At the sound of his step she turned quickly toward him. Ah, howbeautiful she was! His sudden determination faded beneath theglorious light of her wondrous beauty. He would wait until he hadreturned from his little journey of deception--maybe there mightbe some other way then. Some other hand to strike the blow--withthat face, with those eyes before him, he could never do it. Ofthat he was positive. He had always gloried in the cruelty of hisnature, but, Issus! he was not that cruel. No, another must befound--one whom he could trust.
He was still looking at her as she stood there before him meetinghis gaze steadily and unafraid. He felt the hot passion of hislove mounting higher and higher.
Why not sue once more? If she would relent, all might yet bewell. Even if his father could not be persuaded, they could flyto Ptarth, laying all the blame of the knavery and intrigue thathad thrown four great nations into war, upon the shoulders of Nutus.And who was there that would doubt the justice of the charge?
"Thuvia," he said, "I come once again, for the last time, to laymy heart at your feet. Ptarth and Kaol and Dusar are battling withHelium because of you. Wed me, Thuvia, and all may yet be as itshould be."
The girl shook her head.
"Wait!" he commanded, before she could speak. "Know the truthbefore you speak words that may seal, not only your own fate, butthat of the thousands of warriors who battle because of you.
"Refuse to wed me willingly, and Dusar would be laid waste shouldever the truth be known to Ptarth and Kaol and Helium. They wouldraze our cities, leaving not one stone upon another. They wouldscatter our peoples across the face of Barsoom from the frozen northto the frozen south, hunting them down and slaying them, until thisgreat nation remained only as a hated memory in the minds of men.
"But while they are exterminating the Dusarians, countless thousandsof their own warriors must perish--and all because of the stubbornnessof a single woman who would not wed the prince who loves her.
"Refuse, Thuvia of Ptarth, and there remains but a singlealternative--no man must ever know your fate. Only a handful ofloyal servitors besides my royal father and myself know that youwere stolen from the gardens of Thuvan Dihn by Astok, Prince ofDusar, or that to-day you be imprisoned in my palace.
"Refuse, Thuvia of Ptarth, and you must die to save Dusar--thereis no other way. Nutus, the jeddak, has so decreed. I have spoken."
For a long moment the girl let her level gaze rest full upon theface of Astok of Dusar. Then she spoke, and though the words werefew, the unimpassioned tone carried unfathomable depths of coldcontempt.
"Better all that you have threatened," she said, "than you."
Then she turned her back upon him and went to stand once more beforethe east window, gazing with sad eyes toward distant Ptarth.
Astok wheeled and left the room, returning after a short intervalof time with food and drink.
"Here," he said, "is sustenance until I return again. The next toenter this apartment will be your executioner. Commend yourself toyour ancestors, Thuvia of Ptarth, for within a few days you shallbe with them."
Then he was gone.
Half an hour later he was interviewing an officer high in the navyof Dusar.
"Whither went Vas Kor?" he asked. "He is not at his palace."
"South, to the great waterway that skirts Torquas," replied theother. "His son, Hal Vas, is Dwar of the Road there, and thitherhas Vas Kor gone to enlist recruits among the workers on the farms."
"Good," said Astok, and a half-hour more found him rising aboveDusar in his swiftest flier.