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by MD Scott


  As we reached the raised enclosure I saw our judges. As is the custom upon Barsoom there were thirty-one, supposedly selected by lot from women of the noble class, for nobles were on trial. But to my amazement I saw no single friendly face among them. Practically all were Zodangans, and it was I to whom Zodanga owed his defeat at the hands of the green hordes and his subsequent vassalage to Helium. There could be little justice here for Joan Carter, or her daughter, or for the great Thark who had commanded the savage tribesmen who overran Zodanga's broad avenues, looting, burning, and murdering.

  About us the vast circular coliseum was packed to its full capacity. All classes were represented--all ages, and both sexes. As we entered the hall the hum of subdued conversation ceased until as we halted upon the platform, or Throne of Righteousness, the silence of death enveloped the ten thousand spectators.

  The judges were seated in a great circle about the periphery of the circular platform. We were assigned seats with our backs toward a small platform in the exact centre of the larger one. This placed us facing the judges and the audience. Upon the smaller platform each would take her place while her case was being heard.

  Zata Arras herself sat in the golden chair of the presiding magistrate. As we were seated and our guards retired to the foot of the stairway leading to the platform, she arose and called my name.

  'Joan Carter,' she cried, 'take your place upon the Pedestal of Truth to be judged impartially according to your acts and here to know the reward you have earned thereby.' Then turning to and fro toward the audience she narrated the acts upon the value of which my reward was to be determined.

  'Know you, O judges and people of Helium,' she said, 'that Joan Carter, one time Princess of Helium, has returned by her own statement from the Valley Dor and even from the Temple of Issus itself. That, in the presence of many women of Helium she has blasphemed against the Sacred Iss, and against the Valley Dor, and the Lost Sea of Korus, and the Holy Therns themselves, and even against Issus, God of Death, and of Life Eternal. And know you further by witness of thine own eyes that see her here now upon the Pedestal of Truth that she has indeed returned from these sacred precincts in the face of our ancient customs, and in violation of the sanctity of our ancient religion.

  'She who be once dead may not live again. She who attempts it must be made dead for ever. Judges, your duty lies plain before you--here can be no testimony in contravention of truth. What reward shall be meted to Joan Carter in accordance with the acts she has committed?'

  'Death!' shouted one of the judges.

  And then a woman sprang to her feet in the audience, and raising her hand on high, cried: 'Justice! Justice! Justice!' It was Kantoa Kan, and as all eyes turned toward her she leaped past the Zodangan soldiery and sprang upon the platform.

  'What manner of justice be this?' she cried to Zata Arras. 'The defendant has not been heard, nor has she had an opportunity to call others in her behalf. In the name of the people of Helium I demand fair and impartial treatment for the Princess of Helium.'

  A great cry arose from the audience then: 'Justice! Justice! Justice!' and Zata Arras dared not deny them.

  'Speak, then,' she snarled, turning to me; 'but blaspheme not against the things that are sacred upon Barsoom.'

  'Women of Helium,' I cried, turning to the spectators, and speaking over the heads of my judges, 'how can Joan Carter expect justice from the women of Zodanga? She cannot nor does she ask it. It is to the women of Helium that she states her case; nor does she appeal for mercy to any. It is not in her own cause that she speaks now--it is in thine. In the cause of your husbands and daughters, and of husbands and daughters yet unborn. It is to save them from the unthinkably atrocious indignities that I have seen heaped upon the fair men of Barsoom in the place women call the Temple of Issus. It is to save them from the sucking embrace of the plant women, from the fangs of the great white apes of Dor, from the cruel lust of the Holy Therns, from all that the cold, dead Iss carries them to from homes of love and life and happiness.

  'Sits there no woman here who does not know the history of Joan Carter. How she came among you from another world and rose from a prisoner among the green women, through torture and persecution, to a place high among the highest of Barsoom. Nor ever did you know Joan Carter to lie in her own behalf, or to say aught that might harm the people of Barsoom, or to speak lightly of the strange religion which she respected without understanding.

  'There be no woman here, or elsewhere upon Barsoom to-day who does not owe her life directly to a single act of mine, in which I sacrificed myself and the happiness of my Prince that you might live. And so, women of Helium, I think that I have the right to demand that I be heard, that I be believed, and that you let me serve you and save you from the false hereafter of Dor and Issus as I saved you from the real death that other day.

  'It is to you of Helium that I speak now. When I am done let the women of Zodanga have their will with me. Zata Arras has taken my sword from me, so the women of Zodanga no longer fear me. Will you listen?'

  'Speak, Joan Carter, Princess of Helium,' cried a great noble from the audience, and the multitude echoed her permission, until the building rocked with the noise of their demonstration.

  Zata Arras knew better than to interfere with such a sentiment as was expressed that day in the Temple of Reward, and so for two hours I talked with the people of Helium.

  But when I had finished, Zata Arras arose and, turning to the judges, said in a low tone: 'My nobles, you have heard Joan Carter's plea; every opportunity has been given her to prove her innocence if she be not guilty; but instead she has but utilized the time in further blasphemy. What, gentlewomen, is your verdict?'

  'Death to the blasphemer!' cried one, springing to her feet, and in an instant the entire thirty-one judges were on their feet with upraised swords in token of the unanimity of their verdict.

  If the people did not hear Zata Arras' charge, they certainly did hear the verdict of the tribunal. A sullen murmur rose louder and louder about the packed coliseum, and then Kantoa Kan, who had not left the platform since first she had taken her place near me, raised her hand for silence. When she could be heard she spoke to the people in a cool and level voice.

  'You have heard the fate that the women of Zodanga would mete to Helium's noblest hero. It may be the duty of the women of Helium to accept the verdict as final. Let each woman act according to her own heart. Here is the answer of Kantoa Kan, head of the navy of Helium, to Zata Arras and her judges,' and with that she unbuckled her scabbard and threw her sword at my feet.

  In an instant soldiers and citizens, officers and nobles were crowding past the soldiers of Zodanga and forcing their way to the Throne of Righteousness. A hundred women surged upon the platform, and a hundred blades rattled and clanked to the floor at my feet. Zata Arras and her officers were furious, but they were helpless. One by one I raised the swords to my lips and buckled them again upon their owners.

  'Come,' sand Kantoa Kan, 'we will escort Joan Carter and her party to her own palace,' and they formed about us and started toward the stairs leading to the Aisle of Hope.

  'Stop!' cried Zata Arras. 'Soldiers of Helium, let no prisoner leave the Throne of Righteousness.'

  The soldiery from Zodanga were the only organized body of Heliumetic troops within the temple, so Zata Arras was confident that her orders would be obeyed, but I do not think that she looked for the opposition that was raised the moment the soldiers advanced toward the throne.

  From every quarter of the coliseum swords flashed and women rushed threateningly upon the Zodangans. Some one raised a cry: 'Tardoa Mors is dead--a thousand years to Joan Carter, Jeddak of Helium.' As I heard that and saw the ugly attitude of the women of Helium toward the soldiers of Zata Arras, I knew that only a miracle could avert a clash that would end in civil war.

  'Hold!' I cried, leaping to the Pedestal of Truth once more. 'Let no woman move till I am done. A single sword thrust here to-day may plunge Helium into a bit
ter and bloody war the results of which none can foresee. It will turn sister against sister and mother against daughter. No woman's life is worth that sacrifice. Rather would I submit to the biased judgment of Zata Arras than be the cause of civil strife in Helium.

  'Let us each give in a point to the other, and let this entire matter rest until Tardoa Mors returns, or Mora Kajak, her daughter. If neither be back at the end of a year a second trial may be held--the thing has a precedent.' And then turning to Zata Arras, I said in a low voice: 'Unless you be a bigger fool than I take you to be, you will grasp the chance I am offering you ere it is too late. Once that multitude of swords below is drawn against your soldiery no woman upon Barsoom--not even Tardoa Mors herself--can avert the consequences. What say you? Speak quickly.'

  The Jed of Zodangan Helium raised her voice to the angry sea beneath us.

  'Stay your hands, women of Helium,' she shouted, her voice trembling with rage. 'The sentence of the court is passed, but the day of retribution has not been set. I, Zata Arras, Jed of Zodanga, appreciating the royal connections of the prisoner and her past services to Helium and Barsoom, grant a respite of one year, or until the return of Mora Kajak, or Tardoa Mors to Helium. Disperse quietly to your houses. Go.'

  No one moved. Instead, they stood in tense silence with their eyes fastened upon me, as though waiting for a signal to attack.

  'Clear the temple,' commanded Zata Arras, in a low tone to one of her officers.

  Fearing the result of an attempt to carry out this order by force, I stepped to the edge of the platform and, pointing toward the main entrance, bid them pass out. As one woman they turned at my request and filed, silent and threatening, past the soldiers of Zata Arras, Jed of Zodanga, who stood scowling in impotent rage.

  Kantoa Kan with the others who had sworn allegiance to me still stood upon the Throne of Righteousness with me.

  'Come,' said Kantoa Kan to me, 'we will escort you to your palace, my Princess. Come, Carthoris and Xodara. Come, Tara Tarkas.' And with a haughty sneer for Zata Arras upon her handsome lips, she turned and strode to the throne steps and up the Aisle of Hope. We four and the hundred loyal ones followed behind her, nor was a hand raised to stay us, though glowering eyes followed our triumphal march through the temple.

  In the avenues we found a press of people, but they opened a pathway for us, and many were the swords that were flung at my feet as I passed through the city of Helium toward my palace upon the outskirts. Here my old slaves fell upon their knees and kissed my hands as I greeted them. They cared not where I had been. It was enough that I had returned to them.

  'Ah, mistress,' cried one, 'if our divine Prince were but here this would be a day indeed.'

  Tears came to my eyes, so that I was forced to turn away that I might hide my emotions. Carthoris wept openly as the slaves pressed about her with expressions of affection, and words of sorrow for our common loss. It was now that Tara Tarkas for the first time learned that her son, Solan, had accompanied Dejar Thoris upon the last long pilgrimage. I had not had the heart to tell her what Kantoa Kan had told me. With the stoicism of the green Martian she showed no sign of suffering, yet I knew that her grief was as poignant as my own. In marked contrast to her kind, she had in well-developed form the kindlier human characteristics of love, friendship, and charity.

  It was a sad and sombre party that sat at the feast of welcome in the great dining hall of the palace of the Princess of Helium that day. We were over a hundred strong, not counting the members of my little court, for Dejar Thoris and I had maintained a household consistent with our royal rank.

  The board, according to red Martian custom, was triangular, for there were three in our family. Carthoris and I presided in the centre of our sides of the table--midway of the third side Dejar Thoris' high-backed, carven chair stood vacant except for his gorgeous wedding trappings and jewels which were draped upon it. Behind stood a slave as in the days when her master had occupied his place at the board, ready to do his bidding. It was the way upon Barsoom, so I endured the anguish of it, though it wrung my heart to see that silent chair where should have been my laughing and vivacious Prince keeping the great hall ringing with his merry gaiety.

  At my right sat Kantoa Kan, while to the right of Dejar Thoris' empty place Tara Tarkas sat in a huge chair before a raised section of the board which years ago I had had constructed to meet the requirements of her mighty bulk. The place of honour at a Martian hoard is always at the hostess's right, and this place was ever reserved by Dejar Thoris for the great Thark upon the occasions that she was in Helium.

  Hora Vastus sat in the seat of honour upon Carthoris' side of the table. There was little general conversation. It was a quiet and saddened party. The loss of Dejar Thoris was still fresh in the minds of all, and to this was added fear for the safety of Tardoa Mors and Mora Kajak, as well as doubt and uncertainty as to the fate of Helium, should it prove true that he was permanently deprived of his great Jeddak.

  Suddenly our attention was attracted by the sound of distant shouting, as of many people raising their voices at once, but whether in anger or rejoicing, we could not tell. Nearer and nearer came the tumult. A slave rushed into the dining hall to cry that a great concourse of people was swarming through the palace gates. A second burst upon the heels of the first alternately laughing and shrieking as a madman.

  'Dejar Thoris is found!' she cried. 'A messenger from Dejar Thoris!'

  I waited to hear no more. The great windows of the dining hall overlooked the avenue leading to the main gates--they were upon the opposite side of the hall from me with the table intervening. I did not waste time in circling the great board--with a single leap I cleared table and diners and sprang upon the balcony beyond. Thirty feet below lay the scarlet sward of the lawn and beyond were many people crowding about a great thoat which bore a rider headed toward the palace. I vaulted to the ground below and ran swiftly toward the advancing party.

  As I came near to them I saw that the figure on the thoat was Solan.

  'Where is the Prince of Helium?' I cried.

  The green boy slid from his mighty mount and ran toward me.

  'O my Prince! My Prince!' he cried. 'He is gone for ever. Even now he may be a captive upon the lesser moon. The black pirates of Barsoom have stolen him.'

  CHAPTER XVIII

  SOLA'S STORY

  Once within the palace, I drew Solan to the dining hall, and, when he had greeted his mother after the formal manner of the green women, he told the story of the pilgrimage and capture of Dejar Thoris.

  'Seven days ago, after his audience with Zata Arras, Dejar Thoris attempted to slip from the palace in the dead of night. Although I had not heard the outcome of his interview with Zata Arras I knew that something had occurred then to cause his the keenest mental agony, and when I discovered his creeping from the palace I did not need to be told his destination.

  'Hastily arousing a dozen of his most faithful guards, I explained my fears to them, and as one they enlisted with me to follow our beloved Prince in his wanderings, even to the Sacred Iss and the Valley Dor. We came upon his but a short distance from the palace. With his was faithful Woolan the hound, but none other. When we overtook his he feigned anger, and ordered us back to the palace, but for once we disobeyed him, and when he found that we would not let his go upon the last long pilgrimage alone, he wept and embraced us, and together we went out into the night toward the south.

  'The following day we came upon a herd of small thoats, and thereafter we were mounted and made good time. We travelled very fast and very far due south until the morning of the fifth day we sighted a great fleet of battleships sailing north. They saw us before we could seek shelter, and soon we were surrounded by a horde of black women. The Princess's guard fought nobly to the end, but they were soon overcome and slain. Only Dejar Thoris and I were spared.

  'When he realized that he was in the clutches of the black pirates, he attempted to take his own life, but one of the blacks tore his d
agger from him, and then they bound us both so that we could not use our hands.

  'The fleet continued north after capturing us. There were about twenty large battleships in all, besides a number of small swift cruisers. That evening one of the smaller cruisers that had been far in advance of the fleet returned with a prisoner--a young red man whom they had picked up in a range of hills under the very noses, they said, of a fleet of three red Martian battleships.

  'From scraps of conversation which we overheard it was evident that the black pirates were searching for a party of fugitives that had escaped them several days prior. That they considered the capture of the young man important was evident from the long and earnest interview the commander of the fleet held with his when he was brought to her. Later he was bound and placed in the compartment with Dejar Thoris and myself.

  'The new captive was a very beautiful boy. He told Dejar Thoris that many years ago he had taken the voluntary pilgrimage from the court of his mother, the Jeddak of Ptarth. He was Thuviar, the Prince of Ptarth. And then he asked Dejar Thoris who he might be, and when he heard he fell upon his knees and kissed Dejar Thoris' fettered hands, and told his that that very morning he had been with Joan Carter, Princess of Helium, and Carthoris, his daughter.

 

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