CHAPTER XVIII
CHAINED IN WARHOON
It must have been several hours before I regained consciousness and Iwell remember the feeling of surprise which swept over me as I realizedthat I was not dead.
I was lying among a pile of sleeping silks and furs in the corner of asmall room in which were several green warriors, and bending over mewas an ancient and ugly female.
As I opened my eyes she turned to one of the warriors, saying,
"He will live, O Jed."
"'Tis well," replied the one so addressed, rising and approaching mycouch, "he should render rare sport for the great games."
And now as my eyes fell upon him, I saw that he was no Thark, for hisornaments and metal were not of that horde. He was a huge fellow,terribly scarred about the face and chest, and with one broken tusk anda missing ear. Strapped on either breast were human skulls anddepending from these a number of dried human hands.
His reference to the great games of which I had heard so much whileamong the Tharks convinced me that I had but jumped from purgatory intogehenna.
After a few more words with the female, during which she assured himthat I was now fully fit to travel, the jed ordered that we mount andride after the main column.
I was strapped securely to as wild and unmanageable a thoat as I hadever seen, and, with a mounted warrior on either side to prevent thebeast from bolting, we rode forth at a furious pace in pursuit of thecolumn. My wounds gave me but little pain, so wonderfully and rapidlyhad the applications and injections of the female exercised theirtherapeutic powers, and so deftly had she bound and plastered theinjuries.
Just before dark we reached the main body of troops shortly after theyhad made camp for the night. I was immediately taken before theleader, who proved to be the jeddak of the hordes of Warhoon.
Like the jed who had brought me, he was frightfully scarred, and alsodecorated with the breastplate of human skulls and dried dead handswhich seemed to mark all the greater warriors among the Warhoons, aswell as to indicate their awful ferocity, which greatly transcends eventhat of the Tharks.
The jeddak, Bar Comas, who was comparatively young, was the object ofthe fierce and jealous hatred of his old lieutenant, Dak Kova, the jedwho had captured me, and I could not but note the almost studiedefforts which the latter made to affront his superior.
He entirely omitted the usual formal salutation as we entered thepresence of the jeddak, and as he pushed me roughly before the ruler heexclaimed in a loud and menacing voice.
"I have brought a strange creature wearing the metal of a Thark whom itis my pleasure to have battle with a wild thoat at the great games."
"He will die as Bar Comas, your jeddak, sees fit, if at all," repliedthe young ruler, with emphasis and dignity.
"If at all?" roared Dak Kova. "By the dead hands at my throat but heshall die, Bar Comas. No maudlin weakness on your part shall save him.O, would that Warhoon were ruled by a real jeddak rather than by awater-hearted weakling from whom even old Dak Kova could tear the metalwith his bare hands!"
Bar Comas eyed the defiant and insubordinate chieftain for an instant,his expression one of haughty, fearless contempt and hate, and thenwithout drawing a weapon and without uttering a word he hurled himselfat the throat of his defamer.
I never before had seen two green Martian warriors battle with nature'sweapons and the exhibition of animal ferocity which ensued was asfearful a thing as the most disordered imagination could picture. Theytore at each others' eyes and ears with their hands and with theirgleaming tusks repeatedly slashed and gored until both were cut fairlyto ribbons from head to foot.
Bar Comas had much the better of the battle as he was stronger, quickerand more intelligent. It soon seemed that the encounter was donesaving only the final death thrust when Bar Comas slipped in breakingaway from a clinch. It was the one little opening that Dak Kovaneeded, and hurling himself at the body of his adversary he buried hissingle mighty tusk in Bar Comas' groin and with a last powerful effortripped the young jeddak wide open the full length of his body, thegreat tusk finally wedging in the bones of Bar Comas' jaw. Victor andvanquished rolled limp and lifeless upon the moss, a huge mass of tornand bloody flesh.
Bar Comas was stone dead, and only the most herculean efforts on thepart of Dak Kova's females saved him from the fate he deserved. Threedays later he walked without assistance to the body of Bar Comas which,by custom, had not been moved from where it fell, and placing his footupon the neck of his erstwhile ruler he assumed the title of Jeddak ofWarhoon.
The dead jeddak's hands and head were removed to be added to theornaments of his conqueror, and then his women cremated what remained,amid wild and terrible laughter.
The injuries to Dak Kova had delayed the march so greatly that it wasdecided to give up the expedition, which was a raid upon a small Tharkcommunity in retaliation for the destruction of the incubator, untilafter the great games, and the entire body of warriors, ten thousand innumber, turned back toward Warhoon.
My introduction to these cruel and bloodthirsty people was but an indexto the scenes I witnessed almost daily while with them. They are asmaller horde than the Tharks but much more ferocious. Not a daypassed but that some members of the various Warhoon communities met indeadly combat. I have seen as high as eight mortal duels within asingle day.
We reached the city of Warhoon after some three days march and I wasimmediately cast into a dungeon and heavily chained to the floor andwalls. Food was brought me at intervals but owing to the utterdarkness of the place I do not know whether I lay there days, or weeks,or months. It was the most horrible experience of all my life and thatmy mind did not give way to the terrors of that inky blackness has beena wonder to me ever since. The place was filled with creeping,crawling things; cold, sinuous bodies passed over me when I lay down,and in the darkness I occasionally caught glimpses of gleaming, fieryeyes, fixed in horrible intentness upon me. No sound reached me fromthe world above and no word would my jailer vouchsafe when my food wasbrought to me, although I at first bombarded him with questions.
Finally all the hatred and maniacal loathing for these awful creatureswho had placed me in this horrible place was centered by my totteringreason upon this single emissary who represented to me the entire hordeof Warhoons.
I had noticed that he always advanced with his dim torch to where hecould place the food within my reach and as he stooped to place it uponthe floor his head was about on a level with my breast. So, with thecunning of a madman, I backed into the far corner of my cell when nextI heard him approaching and gathering a little slack of the great chainwhich held me in my hand I waited his coming, crouching like some beastof prey. As he stooped to place my food upon the ground I swung thechain above my head and crashed the links with all my strength upon hisskull. Without a sound he slipped to the floor, stone dead.
Laughing and chattering like the idiot I was fast becoming I fell uponhis prostrate form my fingers feeling for his dead throat. Presentlythey came in contact with a small chain at the end of which dangled anumber of keys. The touch of my fingers on these keys brought back myreason with the suddenness of thought. No longer was I a jibberingidiot, but a sane, reasoning man with the means of escape within myvery hands.
As I was groping to remove the chain from about my victim's neck Iglanced up into the darkness to see six pairs of gleaming eyes fixed,unwinking, upon me. Slowly they approached and slowly I shrank backfrom the awful horror of them. Back into my corner I crouched holdingmy hands palms out, before me, and stealthily on came the awful eyesuntil they reached the dead body at my feet. Then slowly theyretreated but this time with a strange grating sound and finally theydisappeared in some black and distant recess of my dungeon.
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