The Chessmen of Mars

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  CHAPTER XIII

  A DESPERATE DEED

  E-Med crossed the tower chamber toward Tara of Helium and the slavegirl, Lan-O. He seized the former roughly by a shoulder. "Stand!" hecommanded. Tara struck his hand from her and rising, backed away.

  "Lay not your hand upon the person of a princess of Helium, beast!" shewarned.

  E-Med laughed. "Think you that I play at jetan for you without firstknowing something of the stake for which I play?" he demanded. "Comehere!"

  The girl drew herself to her full height, folding her arms across herbreast, nor did E-Med note that the slim fingers of her right hand wereinserted beneath the broad leather strap of her harness where it passedover her left shoulder.

  "And O-Tar learns of this you shall rue it, E-Med," cried the slavegirl; "there be no law in Manator that gives you this girl before youshall have won her fairly."

  "What cares O-Tar for her fate?" replied E-Med. "Have I not heard? Didshe not flout the great jeddak, heaping abuse upon him? By my firstancestor, I think O-Tar might make a jed of the man who subdued her,"and again he advanced toward Tara.

  "Wait!" said the girl in low, even tone. "Perhaps you know not what youdo. Sacred to the people of Helium are the persons of the women ofHelium. For the honor of the humblest of them would the great jeddakhimself unsheathe his sword. The greatest nations of Barsoom havetrembled to the thunders of war in defense of the person of DejahThoris, my mother. We are but mortal and so may die; but we may not bedefiled. You may play at jetan for a princess of Helium, but though youmay win the match, never may you claim the reward. If thou wouldstpossess a dead body press me too far, but know, man of Manator, thatthe blood of The Warlord flows not in the veins of Tara of Helium fornaught. I have spoken."

  "I know naught of Helium and O-Tar is our warlord," replied E-Med; "butI do know that I would examine more closely the prize that I shall playfor and win. I would test the lips of her who is to be my slave afterthe next games; nor is it well, woman, to drive me too far to anger."His eyes narrowed as he spoke, his visage taking on the semblance ofthat of a snarling beast. "If you doubt the truth of my words askLan-O, the slave girl."

  "He speaks truly, O woman of Helium," interjected Lan-O. "Try not thetemper of E-Med, if you value your life."

  But Tara of Helium made no reply. Already had she spoken. She stood insilence now facing the burly warrior who approached her. He came closeand then quite suddenly he seized her and, bending, tried to draw herlips to his.

  Lan-O saw the woman from Helium half turn, and with a quick movementjerk her right hand from where it had lain upon her breast. She saw thehand shoot from beneath the arm of E-Med and rise behind his shoulderand she saw in the hand a long, slim blade. The lips of the warriorwere drawing closer to those of the woman, but they never touched them,for suddenly the man straightened, stiffly, a shriek upon his lips, andthen he crumpled like an empty fur and lay, a shrunken heap, upon thefloor. Tara of Helium stooped and wiped her blade upon his harness.

  Lan-O, wide-eyed, looked with horror upon the corpse. "For this weshall both die," she cried.

  "And who would live a slave in Manator?" asked Tara of Helium.

  "I am not so brave as thou," said the slave girl, "and life is sweetand there is always hope."

  "Life is sweet," agreed Tara of Helium, "but honor is sacred. But donot fear. When they come I shall tell them the truth--that you had nohand in this and no opportunity to prevent it."

  For a moment the slave girl seemed to be thinking deeply. Suddenly hereyes lighted. "There is a way, perhaps," she said, "to turn suspicionfrom us. He has the key to this chamber upon him. Let us open the doorand drag him out--maybe we shall find a place to hide him."

  "Good!" exclaimed Tara of Helium, and the two immediately set about thematter Lan-O had suggested. Quickly they found the key and unlatchedthe door and then, between them, they half carried, half dragged, thecorpse of E-Med from the room and down the stairway to the next levelwhere Lan-O said there were vacant chambers. The first door they triedwas unlatched, and through this the two bore their grisly burden into asmall room lighted by a single window. The apartment bore evidence ofhaving been utilized as a living-room rather than as a cell, beingfurnished with a degree of comfort and even luxury. The walls werepaneled to a height of about seven feet from the floor, while theplaster above and the ceiling were decorated with faded paintings ofanother day.

  As Tara's eyes ran quickly over the interior her attention was drawn toa section of paneling that seemed to be separated at one edge from thepiece next adjoining it. Quickly she crossed to it, discovering thatone vertical edge of an entire panel projected a half-inch beyond theothers. There was a possible explanation which piqued her curiosity,and acting upon its suggestion she seized upon the projecting edge andpulled outward. Slowly the panel swung toward her, revealing a darkaperture in the wall behind.

  "Look, Lan-O!" she cried. "See what I have found--a hole in which wemay hide the thing upon the floor."

  Lan-O joined her and together the two investigated the dark aperture,finding a small platform from which a narrow runway led downward intoStygian darkness. Thick dust covered the floor within the doorway,indicating that a great period of time had elapsed since human foot hadtrod it--a secret way, doubtless, unknown to living Manatorians. Herethey dragged the corpse of E-Med, leaving it upon the platform, and asthey left the dark and forbidden closet Lan-O would have slammed to thepanel had not Tara prevented.

  "Wait!" she said, and fell to examining the door frame and the stile.

  "Hurry!" whispered the slave girl. "If they come we are lost."

  "It may serve us well to know how to open this place again," repliedTara of Helium, and then suddenly she pressed a foot against a sectionof the carved base at the right of the open panel. "Ah!" she breathed,a note of satisfaction in her tone, and closed the panel until itfitted snugly in its place. "Come!" she said and turned toward theouter doorway of the chamber.

  They reached their own cell without detection, and closing the doorTara locked it from the inside and placed the key in a secret pocket inher harness.

  "Let them come," she said. "Let them question us! What could two poorprisoners know of the whereabouts of their noble jailer? I ask you,Lan-O, what could they?"

  "Nothing," admitted Lan-O, smiling with her companion.

  "Tell me of these men of Manator," said Tara presently. "Are they alllike E-Med, or are some of them like A-Kor, who seemed a brave andchivalrous character?"

  "They are not unlike the peoples of other countries," replied Lan-O."There be among them both good and bad. They are brave warriors andmighty. Among themselves they are not without chivalry and honor, butin their dealings with strangers they know but one law--the law ofmight. The weak and unfortunate of other lands fill them with contemptand arouse all that is worst in their natures, which doubtless accountsfor their treatment of us, their slaves."

  "But why should they feel contempt for those who have suffered themisfortune of falling into their hands?" queried Tara.

  "I do not know," said Lan-O; "A-Kor says that he believes that it isbecause their country has never been invaded by a victorious foe. Intheir stealthy raids never have they been defeated, because they havenever waited to face a powerful force; and so they have come to believethemselves invincible, and the other peoples are held in contempt asinferior in valor and the practice of arms."

  "Yet A-Kor is one of them," said Tara.

  "He is a son of O-Tar, the jeddak," replied Lan-O; "but his mother wasa high born Gatholian, captured and made slave by O-Tar, and A-Korboasts that in his veins runs only the blood of his mother, and indeedis he different from the others. His chivalry is of a gentler form,though not even his worst enemy has dared question his courage, whilehis skill with the sword, and the spear, and the thoat is famousthroughout the length and breadth of Manator."

  "What think you they will do with him?" asked Tara of Helium.

  "Sentence him to the games," replied Lan-O. "If O
-Tar be not greatlyangered he may be sentenced to but a single game, in which case he maycome out alive; but if O-Tar wishes really to dispose of him he will besentenced to the entire series, and no warrior has ever survived thefull ten, or rather none who was under a sentence from O-Tar."

  "What are the games? I do not understand," said Tara "I have heard themspeak of playing at jetan, but surely no one can be killed at jetan. Weplay it often at home."

  "But not as they play it in the arena at Manator," replied Lan-O. "Cometo the window," and together the two approached an aperture facingtoward the east.

  Below her Tara of Helium saw a great field entirely surrounded by thelow building, and the lofty towers of which that in which she wasimprisoned was but a unit. About the arena were tiers of seats; but thething that caught her attention was a gigantic jetan board laid outupon the floor of the arena in great squares of alternate orange andblack.

  "Here they play at jetan with living pieces. They play for great stakesand usually for a woman--some slave of exceptional beauty. O-Tarhimself might have played for you had you not angered him, but now youwill be played for in an open game by slaves and criminals, and youwill belong to the side that wins--not to a single warrior, but to allwho survive the game."

  The eyes of Tara of Helium flashed, but she made no comment.

  "Those who direct the play do not necessarily take part in it,"continued the slave girl, "but sit in those two great thrones which yousee at either end of the board and direct their pieces from square tosquare."

  "But where lies the danger?" asked Tara of Helium. "If a piece be takenit is merely removed from the board--this is a rule of jetan as oldalmost as the civilization of Barsoom."

  "But here in Manator, when they play in the great arena with livingmen, that rule is altered," explained Lan-O. "When a warrior is movedto a square occupied by an opposing piece, the two battle to the deathfor possession of the square and the one that is successful advantagesby the move. Each is caparisoned to simulate the piece he representsand in addition he wears that which indicates whether he be slave, awarrior serving a sentence, or a volunteer. If serving a sentence thenumber of games he must play is also indicated, and thus the onedirecting the moves knows which pieces to risk and which to conserve,and further than this, a man's chances are affected by the positionthat is assigned him for the game. Those whom they wish to die arealways Panthans in the game, for the Panthan has the least chance ofsurviving."

  "Do those who direct the play ever actually take part in it?" askedTara.

  "Oh, yes," said Lan-O. "Often when two warriors, even of the highestclass, hold a grievance against one another O-Tar compels them tosettle it upon the arena. Then it is that they take active part andwith drawn swords direct their own players from the position of Chief.They pick their own players, usually the best of their own warriors andslaves, if they be powerful men who possess such, or their friends mayvolunteer, or they may obtain prisoners from the pits. These are gamesindeed--the very best that are seen. Often the great chiefs themselvesare slain."

  "It is within this amphitheater that the justice of Manator is meted,then?" asked Tara.

  "Very largely," replied Lan-O.

  "How, then, through such justice, could a prisoner win his liberty?"continued the girl from Helium.

  "If a man, and he survived ten games his liberty would be his," repliedLan-O.

  "But none ever survives?" queried Tara. "And if a woman?"

  "No stranger within the gates of Manator ever has survived ten games,"replied the slave girl. "They are permitted to offer themselves intoperpetual slavery if they prefer that to fighting at jetan. Of coursethey may be called upon, as any warrior, to take part in a game, buttheir chances then of surviving are increased, since they may neveragain have the chance of winning to liberty."

  "But a woman," insisted Tara; "how may a woman win her freedom?"

  Lan-O laughed. "Very simply," she cried, derisively. "She has but tofind a warrior who will fight through ten consecutive games for her andsurvive."

  "'Just are the laws of Manator,'" quoted Tara, scornfully.

  Then it was that they heard footsteps outside their cell and a momentlater a key turned in the lock and the door opened. A warrior facedthem.

  "Hast seen E-Med the dwar?" he asked.

  "Yes," replied Tara, "he was here some time ago."

  The man glanced quickly about the bare chamber and then searchinglyfirst at Tara of Helium and then at the slave girl, Lan-O. The puzzledexpression upon his face increased. He scratched his head. "It isstrange," he said. "A score of men saw him ascend into this tower; andthough there is but a single exit, and that well guarded, no man hasseen him pass out."

  Tara of Helium hid a yawn with the back of a shapely hand. "ThePrincess of Helium is hungry, fellow," she drawled; "tell your masterthat she would eat."

  It was an hour later that food was brought, an officer and severalwarriors accompanying the bearer. The former examined the roomcarefully, but there was no sign that aught amiss had occurred there.The wound that had sent E-Med the dwar to his ancestors had not bled,fortunately for Tara of Helium.

  "Woman," cried the officer, turning upon Tara, "you were the last tosee E-Med the dwar. Answer me now and answer me truthfully. Did you seehim leave this room?"

  "I did," answered Tara of Helium.

  "Where did he go from here?"

  "How should I know? Think you that I can pass through a locked door ofskeel?" the girl's tone was scornful.

  "Of that we do not know," said the officer. "Strange things havehappened in the cell of your companion in the pits of Manator. Perhapsyou could pass through a locked door of skeel as easily as he performsseemingly more impossible feats."

  "Whom do you mean," she cried; "Turan the panthan? He lives, then? Tellme, is he here in Manator unharmed?"

  "I speak of that thing which calls itself Ghek the kaldane," repliedthe officer.

  "But Turan! Tell me, padwar, have you heard aught of him?" Tara's tonewas insistent and she leaned a little forward toward the officer, herlips slightly parted in expectancy.

  Into the eyes of the slave girl, Lan-O, who was watching her, therecrept a soft light of understanding; but the officer ignored Tara'squestion--what was the fate of another slave to him? "Men do notdisappear into thin air," he growled, "and if E-Med be not found soonO-Tar himself may take a hand in this. I warn you, woman, if you be oneof those horrid Corphals that by commanding the spirits of the wickeddead gains evil mastery over the living, as many now believe the thingcalled Ghek to be, that lest you return E-Med, O-Tar will have no mercyon you."

  "What foolishness is this?" cried the girl. "I am a princess of Helium,as I have told you all a score of times. Even if the fabled Corphalsexisted, as none but the most ignorant now believes, the lore of theancients tells us that they entered only into the bodies of wickedcriminals of the lowest class. Man of Manator, thou art a fool, and thyjeddak and all his people," and she turned her royal back upon thepadwar, and gazed through the window across the Field of Jetan and theroofs of Manator through the low hills and the rolling country andfreedom.

  "And you know so much of Corphals, then," he cried, "you know thatwhile no common man dare harm them they may be slain by the hand of ajeddak with impunity!"

  The girl did not reply, nor would she speak again, for all his threatsand rage, for she knew now that none in all Manator dared harm her saveO-Tar, the jeddak, and after a while the padwar left, taking his menwith him. And after they had gone Tara stood for long looking out uponthe city of Manator, and wondering what more of cruel wrongs Fate heldin store for her. She was standing thus in silent meditation when thererose to her the strains of martial music from the city below--the deep,mellow tones of the long war trumpets of mounted troops, the clear,ringing notes of foot-soldiers' music. The girl raised her head andlooked about, listening, and Lan-O, standing at an opposite window,looking toward the west, motioned Tara to join her. Now they could seeacross roofs and avenues to The Gate
of Enemies, through which troopswere marching into the city.

  "The Great Jed is coming," said Lan-O, "none other dares enter thus,with blaring trumpets, the city of Manator. It is U-Thor, Jed ofManatos, second city of Manator. They call him The Great Jed the lengthand breadth of Manator, and because the people love him, O-Tar hateshim. They say, who know, that it would need but slight provocation toinflame the two to war. How such a war would end no one could guess;for the people of Manator worship the great O-Tar, though they do notlove him. U-Thor they love, but he is not the jeddak," and Taraunderstood, as only a Martian may, how much that simple statementencompassed.

  The loyalty of a Martian to his jeddak is almost an instinct, andsecond not even to the instinct of self-preservation at that. Nor isthis strange in a race whose religion includes ancestor worship, andwhere families trace their origin back into remote ages and a jeddaksits upon the same throne that his direct progenitors have occupiedfor, perhaps, hundreds of thousands of years, and rules the descendantsof the same people that his forebears ruled. Wicked jeddaks have beendethroned, but seldom are they replaced by other than members of theimperial house, even though the law gives to the jeds the right toselect whom they please.

  "U-Thor is a just man and good, then?" asked Tara of Helium.

  "There be none nobler," replied Lan-O. "In Manatos none but wickedcriminals who deserve death are forced to play at jetan, and even thenthe play is fair and they have their chance for freedom. Volunteers mayplay, but the moves are not necessarily to the death--a wound, and evensometimes points in swordplay, deciding the issue. There they look uponjetan as a martial sport--here it is but butchery. And U-Thor isopposed to the ancient slave raids and to the policy that keeps Manatorforever isolated from the other nations of Barsoom; but U-Thor is notjeddak and so there is no change."

  The two girls watched the column moving up the broad avenue from TheGate of Enemies toward the palace of O-Tar. A gorgeous, barbaricprocession of painted warriors in jewel-studded harness and wavingfeathers; vicious, squealing thoats caparisoned in rich trappings; farabove their heads the long lances of their riders bore flutteringpennons; foot-soldiers swinging easily along the stone pavement, theirsandals of zitidar hide giving forth no sound; and at the rear of eachutan a train of painted chariots, drawn by mammoth zitidars, carryingthe equipment of the company to which they were attached. Utan afterutan entered through the great gate, and even when the head of thecolumn reached the palace of O-Tar they were not all within the city.

  "I have been here many years," said the girl, Lan-O; "but never have Iseen even The Great Jed bring so many fighting men into the city ofManator."

  Through half-closed eyes Tara of Helium watched the warriors marchingup the broad avenue, trying to imagine them the fighting men of herbeloved Helium coming to the rescue of their princess. That splendidfigure upon the great thoat might be John Carter, himself, Warlord ofBarsoom, and behind him utan after utan of the veterans of the empire,and then the girl opened her eyes again and saw the host of painted,befeathered barbarians, and sighed. But yet she watched, fascinated bythe martial scene, and now she noted again the groups of silent figuresupon the balconies. No waving silks; no cries of welcome; no showers offlowers and jewels such as would have marked the entry of such asplendid, friendly pageant into the twin cities of her birth.

  "The people do not seem friendly to the warriors of Manatos," sheremarked to Lan-O; "I have not seen a single welcoming sign from thepeople on the balconies."

  The slave girl looked at her in surprise. "It cannot be that you do notknow!" she exclaimed. "Why, they are--" but she got no further. Thedoor swung open and an officer stood before them.

  "The slave girl, Tara, is summoned to the presence of O-Tar, thejeddak!" he announced.