tmp_b8f7d28b703a3437bd724778e112fcd6_S1_0sS.fixed.tidied

by MD Scott

  But to my surprise I ran against a blank wall before I reached a point where the waters came to the roof of the corridor. Could I be mistaken? I felt around. No, I had come to the main corridor, and still there was a breathing space between the surface of the water and the rocky ceiling above. And then I turned up the main corridor in the direction that Carthoris and the head of the column had passed a half-hour before. On and on I swam, my heart growing lighter at every stroke, for I knew that I was approaching closer and closer to the point where there would be no chance that the waters ahead could be deeper than they were about me. I was positive that I must soon feel the solid floor beneath my feet again and that once more my chance would come to reach the Temple of Issus and the side of the fair prisoner who languished there.

  But even as hope was at its highest I felt the sudden shock of contact as my head struck the rocks above. The worst, then, had come to me. I had reached one of those rare places where a Martian tunnel dips suddenly to a lower level. Somewhere beyond I knew that it rose again, but of what value was that to me, since I did not know how great the distance that it maintained a level entirely beneath the surface of the water!

  There was but a single forlorn hope, and I took it. Filling my lungs with air, I dived beneath the surface and swam through the inky, icy blackness on and on along the submerged gallery. Time and time again I rose with upstretched hand, only to feel the disappointing rocks close above me.

  Not for much longer would my lungs withstand the strain upon them. I felt that I must soon succumb, nor was there any retreating now that I had gone this far. I knew positively that I could never endure to retrace my path now to the point from which I had felt the waters close above my head. Death stared me in the face, nor ever can I recall a time that I so distinctly felt the icy breath from her dead lips upon my brow.

  One more frantic effort I made with my fast ebbing strength. Weakly I rose for the last time--my tortured lungs gasped for the breath that would fill them with a strange and numbing element, but instead I felt the revivifying breath of life-giving air surge through my starving nostrils into my dying lungs. I was saved.

  A few more strokes brought me to a point where my feet touched the floor, and soon thereafter I was above the water level entirely, and racing like mad along the corridor searching for the first doorway that would lead me to Issus. If I could not have Dejar Thoris again I was at least determined to avenge his death, nor would any life satisfy me other than that of the fiend incarnate who was the cause of such immeasurable suffering upon Barsoom.

  Sooner than I had expected I came to what appeared to me to be a sudden exit into the temple above. It was at the right side of the corridor, which ran on, probably, to other entrances to the pile above.

  To me one point was as good as another. What knew I where any of them led! And so without waiting to be again discovered and thwarted, I ran quickly up the short, steep incline and pushed open the doorway at its end.

  The portal swung slowly in, and before it could be slammed against me I sprang into the chamber beyond. Although not yet dawn, the room was brilliantly lighted. Its sole occupant lay prone upon a low couch at the further side, apparently in sleep. From the hangings and sumptuous furniture of the room I judged it to be a living-room of some priest, possibly of Issus himself.

  At the thought the blood tingled through my veins. What, indeed, if fortune had been kind enough to place the hideous creature alone and unguarded in my hands. With his as hostage I could force acquiescence to my every demand. Cautiously I approached the recumbent figure, on noiseless feet. Closer and closer I came to it, but I had crossed but little more than half the chamber when the figure stirred, and, as I sprang, rose and faced me.

  At first an expression of terror overspread the features of the man who confronted me--then startled incredulity--hope--thanksgiving.

  My heart pounded within my breast as I advanced toward her--tears came to my eyes--and the words that would have poured forth in a perfect torrent choked in my throat as I opened my arms and took into them once more the man I loved--Dejar Thoris, Prince of Helium.

  CHAPTER XXII

  VICTORY AND DEFEAT

  'Joan Carter, Joan Carter,' he sobbed, with his dear head upon my shoulder; 'even now I can scarce believe the witness of my own eyes. When the boy, Thuviar, told me that you had returned to Barsoom, I listened, but I could not understand, for it seemed that such happiness would be impossible for one who had suffered so in silent loneliness for all these long years. At last, when I realized that it was truth, and then came to know the awful place in which I was held prisoner, I learned to doubt that even you could reach me here.

  'As the days passed, and moon after moon went by without bringing even the faintest rumour of you, I resigned myself to my fate. And now that you have come, scarce can I believe it. For an hour I have heard the sounds of conflict within the palace. I knew not what they meant, but I have hoped against hope that it might be the women of Helium headed by my Princess.

  'And tell me, what of Carthoris, our son?'

  'She was with me less than an hour since, Dejar Thoris,' I replied. 'It must have been she whose women you have heard battling within the precincts of the temple.

  'Where is Issus?' I asked suddenly.

  Dejar Thoris shrugged his shoulders.

  'He sent me under guard to this room just before the fighting began within the temple halls. He said that he would send for me later. He seemed very angry and somewhat fearful. Never have I seen his act in so uncertain and almost terrified a manner. Now I know that it must have been because he had learned that Joan Carter, Princess of Helium, was approaching to demand an accounting of his for the imprisonment of her Prince.'

  The sounds of conflict, the clash of arms, the shouting and the hurrying of many feet came to us from various parts of the temple. I knew that I was needed there, but I dared not leave Dejar Thoris, nor dared I take his with me into the turmoil and danger of battle.

  At last I bethought me of the pits from which I had just emerged. Why not secrete his there until I could return and fetch him away in safety and for ever from this awful place. I explained my plan to him.

  For a moment he clung more closely to me.

  'I cannot bear to be parted from you now, even for a moment, Joan Carter,' he said. 'I shudder at the thought of being alone again where that terrible creature might discover me. You do not know him. None can imagine his ferocious cruelty who has not witnessed his daily acts for over half a year. It has taken me nearly all this time to realize even the things that I have seen with my own eyes.'

  'I shall not leave you, then, my Prince,' I replied.

  He was silent for a moment, then he drew my face to his and kissed me.

  'Go, Joan Carter,' he said. 'Our daughter is there, and the soldiers of Helium, fighting for the Prince of Helium. Where they are you should be. I must not think of myself now, but of them and of my husband's duty. I may not stand in the way of that. Hide me in the pits, and go.'

  I led his to the door through which I had entered the chamber from below. There I pressed his dear form to me, and then, though it tore my heart to do it, and filled me only with the blackest shadows of terrible foreboding, I guided his across the threshold, kissed his once again, and closed the door upon him.

  Without hesitating longer, I hurried from the chamber in the direction of the greatest tumult. Scarce half a dozen chambers had I traversed before I came upon the theatre of a fierce struggle. The blacks were massed at the entrance to a great chamber where they were attempting to block the further progress of a body of red women toward the inner sacred precincts of the temple.

  Coming from within as I did, I found myself behind the blacks, and, without waiting to even calculate their numbers or the foolhardiness of my venture, I charged swiftly across the chamber and fell upon them from the rear with my keen long-sword.

  As I struck the first blow I cried aloud, 'For Helium!' And then I rained cut after cut upon the su
rprised warriors, while the reds without took heart at the sound of my voice, and with shouts of 'Joan Carter! Joan Carter!' redoubled their efforts so effectually that before the blacks could recover from their temporary demoralization their ranks were broken and the red women had burst into the chamber.

  The fight within that room, had it had but a competent chronicler, would go down in the annals of Barsoom as a historic memorial to the grim ferocity of his warlike people. Five hundred women fought there that day, the black women against the red. No woman asked quarter or gave it. As though by common assent they fought, as though to determine once and for all their right to live, in accordance with the law of the survival of the fittest.

  I think we all knew that upon the outcome of this battle would hinge for ever the relative positions of these two races upon Barsoom. It was a battle between the old and the new, but not for once did I question the outcome of it. With Carthoris at my side I fought for the red women of Barsoom and for their total emancipation from the throttling bondage of a hideous superstition.

  Back and forth across the room we surged, until the floor was ankle deep in blood, and dead women lay so thickly there that half the time we stood upon their bodies as we fought. As we swung toward the great windows which overlooked the gardens of Issus a sight met my gaze which sent a wave of exultation over me.

  'Look!' I cried. 'Women of the First Born, look!'

  For an instant the fighting ceased, and with one accord every eye turned in the direction I had indicated, and the sight they saw was one no woman of the First Born had ever imagined could be.

  Across the gardens, from side to side, stood a wavering line of black warriors, while beyond them and forcing them ever back was a great horde of green warriors astride their mighty thoats. And as we watched, one, fiercer and more grimly terrible than her fellows, rode forward from the rear, and as she came she shouted some fierce command to her terrible legion.

  It was Tara Tarkas, Jeddak of Thark, and as she couched her great forty-foot metal-shod lance we saw her warriors do likewise. Then it was that we interpreted her command. Twenty yards now separated the green women from the black line. Another word from the great Thark, and with a wild and terrifying battle-cry the green warriors charged. For a moment the black line held, but only for a moment--then the fearsome beasts that bore equally terrible riders passed completely through it.

  After them came utan upon utan of red women. The green horde broke to surround the temple. The red women charged for the interior, and then we turned to continue our interrupted battle; but our foes had vanished.

  My first thought was of Dejar Thoris. Calling to Carthoris that I had found her mother, I started on a run toward the chamber where I had left him, with my girl close beside me. After us came those of our little force who had survived the bloody conflict.

  The moment I entered the room I saw that some one had been there since I had left. A silk lay upon the floor. It had not been there before. There were also a dagger and several metal ornaments strewn about as though torn from their wearer in a struggle. But worst of all, the door leading to the pits where I had hidden my Prince was ajar.

  With a bound I was before it, and, thrusting it open, rushed within. Dejar Thoris had vanished. I called his name aloud again and again, but there was no response. I think in that instant I hovered upon the verge of insanity. I do not recall what I said or did, but I know that for an instant I was seized with the rage of a maniac.

  'Issus!' I cried. 'Issus! Where is Issus? Search the temple for him, but let no woman harm his but Joan Carter. Carthoris, where are the apartments of Issus?'

  'This way,' cried the girl, and, without waiting to know that I had heard her, she dashed off at breakneck speed, further into the bowels of the temple. As fast as she went, however, I was still beside her, urging her on to greater speed.

  At last we came to a great carved door, and through this Carthoris dashed, a foot ahead of me. Within, we came upon such a scene as I had witnessed within the temple once before--the throne of Issus, with the reclining slaves, and about it the ranks of soldiery.

  We did not even give the women a chance to draw, so quickly were we upon them. With a single cut I struck down two in the front rank. And then by the mere weight and momentum of my body, I rushed completely through the two remaining ranks and sprang upon the dais beside the carved sorapus throne.

  The repulsive creature, squatting there in terror, attempted to escape me and leap into a trap behind him. But this time I was not to be outwitted by any such petty subterfuge. Before he had half arisen I had grasped his by the arm, and then, as I saw the guard starting to make a concerted rush upon me from all sides, I whipped out my dagger and, holding it close to that vile breast, ordered them to halt.

  'Back!' I cried to them. 'Back! The first black foot that is planted upon this platform sends my dagger into Issus' heart.'

  For an instant they hesitated. Then an officer ordered them back, while from the outer corridor there swept into the throne room at the heels of my little party of survivors a full thousand red women under Kantoa Kan, Hora Vastus, and Xodara.

  'Where is Dejar Thoris?' I cried to the thing within my hands.

  For a moment his eyes roved wildly about the scene beneath him. I think that it took a moment for the true condition to make any impression upon her--she could not at first realize that the temple had fallen before the assault of women of the outer world. When he did, there must have come, too, a terrible realization of what it meant to her--the loss of power--humiliation--the exposure of the fraud and imposture which he had for so long played upon his own people.

  There was just one thing needed to complete the reality of the picture he was seeing, and that was added by the highest noble of his realm--the high priestess of his religion--the prime minister of his government.

  'Issus, God of Death, and of Life Eternal,' she cried, 'arise in the might of thy righteous wrath and with one single wave of thy omnipotent hand strike dead thy blasphemers! Let not one escape. Issus, thy people depend upon thee. son of the Lesser Moon, thou only art all-powerful. Thou only canst save thy people. I am done. We await thy will. Strike!'

  And then it was that he went mad. A screaming, gibbering maniac writhed in my grasp. It bit and clawed and scratched in impotent fury. And then it laughed a weird and terrible laughter that froze the blood. The slave girls upon the dais shrieked and cowered away. And the thing jumped at them and gnashed its teeth and then spat upon them from frothing lips. God, but it was a horrid sight.

  Finally, I shook the thing, hoping to recall it for a moment to rationality.

  'Where is Dejar Thoris?' I cried again.

  The awful creature in my grasp mumbled inarticulately for a moment, then a sudden gleam of cunning shot into those hideous, close-set eyes.

  'Dejar Thoris? Dejar Thoris?' and then that shrill, unearthly laugh pierced our ears once more.

  'Yes, Dejar Thoris--I know. And Thuviar, and Phaidor, son of Matain Shang. They each love Joan Carter. Ha-ah! but it is droll. Together for a year they will meditate within the Temple of the Sun, but ere the year is quite gone there will be no more food for them. Ho-oh! what divine entertainment,' and he licked the froth from his cruel lips. 'There will be no more food--except each other. Ha-ah! Ha-ah!'

  The horror of the suggestion nearly paralysed me. To this awful fate the creature within my power had condemned my Prince. I trembled in the ferocity of my rage. As a terrier shakes a rat I shook Issus, God of Life Eternal.

  'Countermand your orders!' I cried. 'Recall the condemned. Haste, or you die!'

  'It is too late. Ha-ah! Ha-ah!' and then he commenced his gibbering and shrieking again.

  Almost of its own volition, my dagger flew up above that putrid heart. But something stayed my hand, and I am now glad that it did. It were a terrible thing to have struck down a man with one's own hand. But a fitter fate occurred to me for this false deity.

  'First Born,' I cried, turning to those who stood w
ithin the chamber, 'you have seen to-day the impotency of Issus--the gods are impotent. Issus is no god. He is a cruel and wicked old man, who has deceived and played upon you for ages. Take him. Joan Carter, Princess of Helium, would not contaminate her hand with his blood,' and with that I pushed the raving beast, whom a short half-hour before a whole world had worshipped as divine, from the platform of his throne into the waiting clutches of his betrayed and vengeful people.

  Spying Xodara among the officers of the red women, I called her to lead me quickly to the Temple of the Sun, and, without waiting to learn what fate the First Born would wreak upon their god, I rushed from the chamber with Xodara, Carthoris, Hora Vastus, Kantoa Kan, and a score of other red nobles.

  The black led us rapidly through the inner chambers of the temple, until we stood within the central court--a great circular space paved with a transparent marble of exquisite whiteness. Before us rose a golden temple wrought in the most wondrous and fanciful designs, inlaid with diamond, ruby, sapphire, turquoise, emerald, and the thousand nameless gems of Mars, which far transcend in loveliness and purity of ray the most priceless stones of Earth.