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  THE SECRET TOWER

  I have no stomach to narrate the monotonous events of the tediousdays that Woola and I spent ferreting our way across the labyrinthof glass, through the dark and devious ways beyond that led beneaththe Valley Dor and Golden Cliffs to emerge at last upon the flankof the Otz Mountains just above the Valley of Lost Souls--thatpitiful purgatory peopled by the poor unfortunates who dare notcontinue their abandoned pilgrimage to Dor, or return to the variouslands of the outer world from whence they came.

  Here the trail of Dejah Thoris' abductors led along the mountains'base, across steep and rugged ravines, by the side of appallingprecipices, and sometimes out into the valley, where we foundfighting aplenty with the members of the various tribes that makeup the population of this vale of hopelessness.

  But through it all we came at last to where the way led up a narrowgorge that grew steeper and more impracticable at every step untilbefore us loomed a mighty fortress buried beneath the side of anoverhanging cliff.

  Here was the secret hiding place of Matai Shang, Father of Therns.Here, surrounded by a handful of the faithful, the hekkador ofthe ancient faith, who had once been served by millions of vassalsand dependents, dispensed the spiritual words among the half dozennations of Barsoom that still clung tenaciously to their false anddiscredited religion.

  Darkness was just falling as we came in sight of the seeminglyimpregnable walls of this mountain stronghold, and lest we be seenI drew back with Woola behind a jutting granite promontory, intoa clump of the hardy, purple scrub that thrives upon the barrensides of Otz.

  Here we lay until the quick transition from daylight to darknesshad passed. Then I crept out to approach the fortress walls insearch of a way within.

  Either through carelessness or over-confidence in the supposedinaccessibility of their hiding place, the triple-barred gate stoodajar. Beyond were a handful of guards, laughing and talking overone of their incomprehensible Barsoomian games.

  I saw that none of the guardsmen had been of the party thataccompanied Thurid and Matai Shang; and so, relying entirely uponmy disguise, I walked boldly through the gateway and up to thethern guard.

  The men stopped their game and looked up at me, but there was nosign of suspicion. Similarly they looked at Woola, growling at myheel.

  "Kaor!" I said in true Martian greeting, and the warriors arose andsaluted me. "I have but just found my way hither from the GoldenCliffs," I continued, "and seek audience with the hekkador, MataiShang, Father of Therns. Where may he be found?"

  "Follow me," said one of the guard, and, turning, led me acrossthe outer courtyard toward a second buttressed wall.

  Why the apparent ease with which I seemingly deceived them didnot rouse my suspicions I know not, unless it was that my mind wasstill so full of that fleeting glimpse of my beloved princess thatthere was room in it for naught else. Be that as it may, the factis that I marched buoyantly behind my guide straight into the jawsof death.

  Afterward I learned that thern spies had been aware of my comingfor hours before I reached the hidden fortress.

  The gate had been purposely left ajar to tempt me on. The guardshad been schooled well in their part of the conspiracy; and I,more like a schoolboy than a seasoned warrior, ran headlong intothe trap.

  At the far side of the outer court a narrow door let into theangle made by one of the buttresses with the wall. Here my guideproduced a key and opened the way within; then, stepping back, hemotioned me to enter.

  "Matai Shang is in the temple court beyond," he said; and as Woolaand I passed through, the fellow closed the door quickly upon us.

  The nasty laugh that came to my ears through the heavy planking ofthe door after the lock clicked was my first intimation that allwas not as it should be.

  I found myself in a small, circular chamber within the buttress.Before me a door opened, presumably, upon the inner court beyond.For a moment I hesitated, all my suspicions now suddenly, thoughtardily, aroused; then, with a shrug of my shoulders, I opened thedoor and stepped out into the glare of torches that lighted theinner court.

  Directly opposite me a massive tower rose to a height of threehundred feet. It was of the strangely beautiful modern Barsoomianstyle of architecture, its entire surface hand carved in boldrelief with intricate and fanciful designs. Thirty feet abovethe courtyard and overlooking it was a broad balcony, and there,indeed, was Matai Shang, and with him were Thurid and Phaidor,Thuvia, and Dejah Thoris--the last two heavily ironed. A handfulof thern warriors stood just behind the little party.

  As I entered the enclosure the eyes of those in the balcony werefull upon me.

  An ugly smile distorted the cruel lips of Matai Shang. Thuridhurled a taunt at me and placed a familiar hand upon the shoulderof my princess. Like a tigress she turned upon him, striking thebeast a heavy blow with the manacles upon her wrist.

  He would have struck back had not Matai Shang interfered, and thenI saw that the two men were not over-friendly; for the manner ofthe thern was arrogant and domineering as he made it plain to theFirst Born that the Princess of Helium was the personal propertyof the Father of Therns. And Thurid's bearing toward the ancienthekkador savored not at all of liking or respect.

  When the altercation in the balcony had subsided Matai Shang turnedagain to me.

  "Earth man," he cried, "you have earned a more ignoble death thannow lies within our weakened power to inflict upon you; but that thedeath you die tonight may be doubly bitter, know you that when youhave passed, your widow becomes the wife of Matai Shang, Hekkadorof the Holy Therns, for a Martian year.

  "At the end of that time, as you know, she shall be discarded,as is the law among us, but not, as is usual, to lead a quiet andhonored life as high priestess of some hallowed shrine. Instead,Dejah Thoris, Princess of Helium, shall become the plaything ofmy lieutenants--perhaps of thy most hated enemy, Thurid, the blackdator."

  As he ceased speaking he awaited in silence evidently for someoutbreak of rage upon my part--something that would have added tothe spice of his revenge. But I did not give him the satisfactionthat he craved.

  Instead, I did the one thing of all others that might rouse hisanger and increase his hatred of me; for I knew that if I diedDejah Thoris, too, would find a way to die before they could heapfurther tortures or indignities upon her.

  Of all the holy of holies which the thern venerates and worshipsnone is more revered than the yellow wig which covers his bald pate,and next thereto comes the circlet of gold and the great diadem,whose scintillant rays mark the attainment of the Tenth Cycle.

  And, knowing this, I removed the wig and circlet from my head,tossing them carelessly upon the flagging of the court. Then Iwiped my feet upon the yellow tresses; and as a groan of rage arosefrom the balcony I spat full upon the holy diadem.

  Matai Shang went livid with anger, but upon the lips of Thurid Icould see a grim smile of amusement, for to him these things werenot holy; so, lest he should derive too much amusement from myact, I cried: "And thus did I with the holies of Issus, Goddessof Life Eternal, ere I threw Issus herself to the mob that oncehad worshiped her, to be torn to pieces in her own temple."

  That put an end to Thurid's grinning, for he had been high in thefavor of Issus.

  "Let us have an end to this blaspheming!" he cried, turning to theFather of Therns.

  Matai Shang rose and, leaning over the edge of the balcony, gavevoice to the weird call that I had heard from the lips of thepriests upon the tiny balcony upon the face of the Golden Cliffsoverlooking the Valley Dor, when, in times past, they calledthe fearsome white apes and the hideous plant men to the feast ofvictims floating down the broad bosom of the mysterious Iss towardthe silian-infested waters of the Lost Sea of Korus. "Let loosethe death!" he cried, and immediately a dozen doors in the base ofthe tower swung open, and a dozen grim and terrible banths spranginto the arena.

  This was not the first time that I had faced the ferocious Barsoomianlion, but never had I been pitted, single-handed,
against a fulldozen of them. Even with the assistance of the fierce Woola, therecould be but a single outcome to so unequal a struggle.

  For a moment the beasts hesitated beneath the brilliant glareof the torches; but presently their eyes, becoming accustomed tothe light, fell upon Woola and me, and with bristling manes anddeep-throated roars they advanced, lashing their tawny sides withtheir powerful tails.

  In the brief interval of life that was left me I shot a last,parting glance toward my Dejah Thoris. Her beautiful face was setin an expression of horror; and as my eyes met hers she extendedboth arms toward me as, struggling with the guards who now heldher, she endeavored to cast herself from the balcony into the pitbeneath, that she might share my death with me. Then, as the banthswere about to close upon me, she turned and buried her dear facein her arms.

  Suddenly my attention was drawn toward Thuvia of Ptarth. Thebeautiful girl was leaning far over the edge of the balcony, hereyes bright with excitement.

  In another instant the banths would be upon me, but I could notforce my gaze from the features of the red girl, for I knew thather expression meant anything but the enjoyment of the grim tragedythat would so soon be enacted below her; there was some deeper,hidden meaning which I sought to solve.

  For an instant I thought of relying on my earthly muscles andagility to escape the banths and reach the balcony, which I couldeasily have done, but I could not bring myself to desert thefaithful Woola and leave him to die alone beneath the cruel fangsof the hungry banths; that is not the way upon Barsoom, nor was itever the way of John Carter.

  Then the secret of Thuvia's excitement became apparent as from herlips there issued the purring sound I had heard once before; thattime that, within the Golden Cliffs, she called the fierce banthsabout her and led them as a shepherdess might lead her flock ofmeek and harmless sheep.

  At the first note of that soothing sound the banths halted in theirtracks, and every fierce head went high as the beasts sought theorigin of the familiar call. Presently they discovered the redgirl in the balcony above them, and, turning, roared out theirrecognition and their greeting.

  Guards sprang to drag Thuvia away, but ere they had succeeded shehad hurled a volley of commands at the listening brutes, and asone they turned and marched back into their dens.

  "You need not fear them now, John Carter!" cried Thuvia, beforethey could silence her. "Those banths will never harm you now,nor Woola, either."

  It was all I cared to know. There was naught to keep me from thatbalcony now, and with a long, running leap I sprang far aloft untilmy hands grasped its lowest sill.

  In an instant all was wild confusion. Matai Shang shrank back.Thurid sprang forward with drawn sword to cut me down.

  Again Dejah Thoris wielded her heavy irons and fought him back.Then Matai Shang grasped her about the waist and dragged her awaythrough a door leading within the tower.

  For an instant Thurid hesitated, and then, as though fearing thatthe Father of Therns would escape him with the Princess of Helium,he, too, dashed from the balcony in their wake.

  Phaidor alone retained her presence of mind. Two of the guards sheordered to bear away Thuvia of Ptarth; the others she commanded toremain and prevent me from following. Then she turned toward me.

  "John Carter," she cried, "for the last time I offer you the loveof Phaidor, daughter of the Holy Hekkador. Accept and your princessshall be returned to the court of her grandfather, and you shalllive in peace and happiness. Refuse and the fate that my fatherhas threatened shall fall upon Dejah Thoris.

  "You cannot save her now, for by this time they have reached aplace where even you may not follow. Refuse and naught can saveyou; for, though the way to the last stronghold of the Holy Thernswas made easy for you, the way hence hath been made impossible.What say you?"

  "You knew my answer, Phaidor," I replied, "before ever you spoke.Make way," I cried to the guards, "for John Carter, Prince ofHelium, would pass!"

  With that I leaped over the low baluster that surrounded the balcony,and with drawn long-sword faced my enemies.

  There were three of them; but Phaidor must have guessed what theoutcome of the battle would be, for she turned and fled from thebalcony the moment she saw that I would have none of her proposition.

  The three guardsmen did not wait for my attack. Instead, theyrushed me--the three of them simultaneously; and it was that whichgave me an advantage, for they fouled one another in the narrowprecincts of the balcony, so that the foremost of them stumbledfull upon my blade at the first onslaught.

  The red stain upon my point roused to its full the old blood-lustof the fighting man that has ever been so strong within my breast,so that my blade flew through the air with a swiftness and deadlyaccuracy that threw the two remaining therns into wild despair.

  When at last the sharp steel found the heart of one of them theother turned to flee, and, guessing that his steps would lead himalong the way taken by those I sought, I let him keep ever farenough ahead to think that he was safely escaping my sword.

  Through several inner chambers he raced until he came to a spiralrunway. Up this he dashed, I in close pursuit. At the upper endwe came out into a small chamber, the walls of which were blankexcept for a single window overlooking the slopes of Otz and theValley of Lost Souls beyond.

  Here the fellow tore frantically at what appeared to be but apiece of the blank wall opposite the single window. In an instantI guessed that it was a secret exit from the room, and so I pausedthat he might have an opportunity to negotiate it, for I carednothing to take the life of this poor servitor--all I craved wasa clear road in pursuit of Dejah Thoris, my long-lost princess.

  But, try as he would, the panel would yield neither to cunning norforce, so that eventually he gave it up and turned to face me.

  "Go thy way, Thern," I said to him, pointing toward the entranceto the runway up which we had but just come. "I have no quarrelwith you, nor do I crave your life. Go!"

  For answer he sprang upon me with his sword, and so suddenly, atthat, that I was like to have gone down before his first rush. Sothere was nothing for it but to give him what he sought, and thatas quickly as might be, that I might not be delayed too long inthis chamber while Matai Shang and Thurid made way with Dejah Thorisand Thuvia of Ptarth.

  The fellow was a clever swordsman--resourceful and extremelytricky. In fact, he seemed never to have heard that there existedsuch a thing as a code of honor, for he repeatedly outraged a dozenBarsoomian fighting customs that an honorable man would rather diethan ignore.

  He even went so far as to snatch his holy wig from his head andthrow it in my face, so as to blind me for a moment while he thrustat my unprotected breast.

  When he thrust, however, I was not there, for I had fought withtherns before; and while none had ever resorted to precisely thatsame expedient, I knew them to be the least honorable and mosttreacherous fighters upon Mars, and so was ever on the alert forsome new and devilish subterfuge when I was engaged with one oftheir race.

  But at length he overdid the thing; for, drawing his shortsword,he hurled it, javelinwise, at my body, at the same instant rushingupon me with his long-sword. A single sweeping circle of my ownblade caught the flying weapon and hurled it clattering againstthe far wall, and then, as I sidestepped my antagonist's impetuousrush, I let him have my point full in the stomach as he hurtledby.

  Clear to the hilt my weapon passed through his body, and with afrightful shriek he sank to the floor, dead.

  Halting only for the brief instant that was required to wrenchmy sword from the carcass of my late antagonist, I sprang acrossthe chamber to the blank wall beyond, through which the thern hadattempted to pass. Here I sought for the secret of its lock, butall to no avail.

  In despair I tried to force the thing, but the cold, unyieldingstone might well have laughed at my futile, puny endeavors. In fact,I could have sworn that I caught the faint suggestion of tauntinglaughter from beyond the baffling panel.

  In disgust
I desisted from my useless efforts and stepped to thechamber's single window.

  The slopes of Otz and the distant Valley of Lost Souls held nothingto compel my interest then; but, towering far above me, the tower'scarved wall riveted my keenest attention.

  Somewhere within that massive pile was Dejah Thoris. Above me Icould see windows. There, possibly, lay the only way by which Icould reach her. The risk was great, but not too great when thefate of a world's most wondrous woman was at stake.

  I glanced below. A hundred feet beneath lay jagged granite bouldersat the brink of a frightful chasm upon which the tower abutted; andif not upon the boulders, then at the chasm's bottom, lay death,should a foot slip but once, or clutching fingers loose their holdfor the fraction of an instant.

  But there was no other way and with a shrug, which I must admitwas half shudder, I stepped to the window's outer sill and beganmy perilous ascent.

  To my dismay I found that, unlike the ornamentation upon mostHeliumetic structures, the edges of the carvings were quite generallyrounded, so that at best my every hold was most precarious.

  Fifty feet above me commenced a series of projecting cylindricalstones some six inches in diameter. These apparently circled thetower at six-foot intervals, in bands six feet apart; and as eachstone cylinder protruded some four or five inches beyond the surfaceof the other ornamentation, they presented a comparatively easymode of ascent could I but reach them.

  Laboriously I climbed toward them by way of some windows whichlay below them, for I hoped that I might find ingress to the towerthrough one of these, and thence an easier avenue along which toprosecute my search.

  At times so slight was my hold upon the rounded surfaces of thecarving's edges that a sneeze, a cough, or even a slight gust ofwind would have dislodged me and sent me hurtling to the depthsbelow.

  But finally I reached a point where my fingers could just clutchthe sill of the lowest window, and I was on the point of breathinga sigh of relief when the sound of voices came to me from abovethrough the open window.

  "He can never solve the secret of that lock." The voice was MataiShang's. "Let us proceed to the hangar above that we may be farto the south before he finds another way--should that be possible."

  "All things seem possible to that vile calot," replied anothervoice, which I recognized as Thurid's.

  "Then let us haste," said Matai Shang. "But to be doubly sure, Iwill leave two who shall patrol this runway. Later they may followus upon another flier--overtaking us at Kaol."

  My upstretched fingers never reached the window's sill. At thefirst sound of the voices I drew back my hand and clung there tomy perilous perch, flattened against the perpendicular wall, scarcedaring to breathe.

  What a horrible position, indeed, in which to be discovered byThurid! He had but to lean from the window to push me with hissword's point into eternity.

  Presently the sound of the voices became fainter, and once againI took up my hazardous ascent, now more difficult, since morecircuitous, for I must climb so as to avoid the windows.

  Matai Shang's reference to the hangar and the fliers indicatedthat my destination lay nothing short of the roof of the tower,and toward this seemingly distant goal I set my face.

  The most difficult and dangerous part of the journey was accomplishedat last, and it was with relief that I felt my fingers close aboutthe lowest of the stone cylinders.

  It is true that these projections were too far apart to make thebalance of the ascent anything of a sinecure, but I at least hadalways within my reach a point of safety to which I might cling incase of accident.

  Some ten feet below the roof, the wall inclined slightly inwardpossibly a foot in the last ten feet, and here the climbing wasindeed immeasurably easier, so that my fingers soon clutched theeaves.

  As I drew my eyes above the level of the tower's top I saw a flierall but ready to rise.

  Upon her deck were Matai Shang, Phaidor, Dejah Thoris, Thuvia ofPtarth, and a few thern warriors, while near her was Thurid in theact of clambering aboard.

  He was not ten paces from me, facing in the opposite direction;and what cruel freak of fate should have caused him to turn aboutjust as my eyes topped the roof's edge I may not even guess.

  But turn he did; and when his eyes met mine his wicked face lightedwith a malignant smile as he leaped toward me, where I was hasteningto scramble to the secure footing of the roof.

  Dejah Thoris must have seen me at the same instant, for she screameda useless warning just as Thurid's foot, swinging in a mighty kick,landed full in my face.

  Like a felled ox, I reeled and tumbled backward over the tower'sside.