Masters of the Pit or Barbarians of Mars

by Michael Moorcock

  Zapha suggested that we should approach the place cautiously, but he also thought that it would be a safe place to make camp if it were uninhabited.

  As we approached the buildings we noticed that they were, in fact, ruined shells of houses. Weeds grew in the streets. It looked as if, long ago, a fire had destroyed the city.

  But when we approached closer we saw a party of mounted men to the west of the city. They were riding full tilt at it with bared weapons - swords and axes mainly. They were yellow-skinned men and were wearing bright cloaks and highly-decorated war-harness. The yellow of their skins was not like that of the Oriental, but a deeper, brighter yellow, somewhat like lemon-yellow.

  From somewhere within the ruins we heard a yell - the voice of one man - and we gathered that it was he the yellow men were attacking.

  We were undecided how to act, not knowing what situation had arisen, but rode in closer to get a better view of what was happening.

  Then I saw the man whose voice we had heard - and I could not believe my eyes.

  The man whom the yellow warriors attacked with such ferocity was none other than Hool Haji!

  The Blue Giant looked weary and travel-stained. He seemed to have a half-healed wound in his shoulder, but he bore a great, wide sword of a kind I had seen in the hands of the yellow-skinned warriors.

  As the yellow riders bore down on Hool Haji, I gave a great shout and urged my dahara towards him.

  Zapha and his men followed and soon we were face to face with the yellow warriors.

  They seemed dismayed by our sudden appearance. They had expected to have to fight only one man and now found nearly twenty riders coming to his rescue.

  We had killed and wounded only a few before the rest turned their mounts about and rode away. They mounted a hill and were quickly lost from our view on the other side.

  I swung myself off my dahara's broad back and walked towards Hool Haji. He seemed as astonished to see me as I was to see him.

  "Hool Haji!" I cried. "You are alive! How did you get here?"

  He laughed. "You will think me a liar when I tell you - but tell you I must. I had thought you dead, also, Michael Kane. Have you any food? We must feast and celebrate our coming together again!"

  We posted guards and the rest of us built a fire and cooked some provisions.

  While we ate, Hool Haji told me his story.

  He had, as I suspected, been carried to the mountain lair of the First Masters. It was a dark warren of caves in the highest peaks and there they nested like strange birds.

  He had not been harmed at first, but had been deposited close to the central nest, where a young creature of the same species rested.

  From the way that they protected this youngster, Hool Haji gathered that this was, in fact, the last of their species, since he saw no females while he was there.

  He had been left as food for the young one by the First Masters and expected them to kill him but, just as they were coming towards him, something had disturbed them. He didn't know what it was. They had suddenly taken it into their heads to fly off.

  Left alone with the young one, who was actually not very much smaller than himself, he had conceived the idea of training it and thus escaping from the eyrie.

  Using his sword, which the First Masters had not had sense enough to take from him, he prodded the young creature to the edge of the outer cage. He clambered upon its back and, by many pricks from the sword, had taught it to obey him.

  He had meant to return in the direction of the Crystal Pit and see if he could find any trace of me, but the young Jihadoo - as Hool Haji called it - had revealed a mind of its own after its initial bewilderment, and had resisted him.

  It had begun to fly very fast until it had become very tired.

  Lower and lower it had sunk, by this time just managing to brush over the tops of the trees.

  Then some kind of weariness caused it to turn in the air and began snapping at Hool Haji. A fight developed. Hool Haji was forced to kill the creature to protect himself and they had both fallen to earth, where Hool Haji had escaped with only a few bruises. But the creature was dead. Hool Haji had landed in the swamp we had just crossed, but had managed to haul himself to firm ground, and began crossing the marsh.

  Then the men with small heads had attacked. Hool Haji called them the Perodi.

  They had overwhelmed him after a desperate fight and taken him overland to a city which lay many shatis to the West.

  Here the men with small heads had sold him as a slave to the yellow-skinned people who lived in the city - the Cinivik, as they called themselves.

  Hool Haji had refused to work as a slave for the Cinivik and had at length been chained in one of their prisons, of which, apparently, they had many.

  He was displayed, because of his physical peculiarities, as some kind of zoo specimen, but bided his time until he had recovered all his strength.

  Then he had managed to wrench his chains out of the wall and throttle his gaoler, taking the man's sword and escaping, after a fight or two, from the city.

  As luck would have it, his only route of escape was into the marshes. He had had several encounters with the Perodi but had managed to beat them. He had won several swords from them in these fights and had snapped two while getting the chains off his arm.

  Apparently a reward had been offered for him and the Perodi had told the Cinivik where he was. He had taken to using the ruins as his main base.

  A small party of warriors had been sent out to find him, but he had killed several and beaten the rest off.

  He would have been killed or recaptured, he believed, if we had not arrived on the scene just as the second expedition were about to attack him.

  "And that, in brief, is the sum total of my adventures until today," he told me. "I am sorry if I have bored you."

  "You have not," I told him. "And now let me tell you my story. I think you will like it."

  I told Hool Haji everything that had happened since our forced parting and he listened attentively.

  After I had finished, he said: "Of the two of us, the most has happened to you. So you are on the way to Bagarad now, are you? I will be pleased to rejoin you and help as best I can."

  "Discovering you alive is the best thing that has happened yet," I told him sincerely.

  That night I slept well and deeply.

  In the morning we rode on for Bagarad, which was still several days* journey away.

  The terrain was easier now and made travel lighter. The whole party of us rode long, talking and joking among ourselves, while a great plain stretched away in all directions, giving us a sense of security, since no enemies could approach without warning.

  But there were no enemies on the plain, only herds of strange looking animals which, Zapha informed us, were quite harmless.

  Soon the plain gave way to hill country that was just as pleasant, for the hills were covered in bright, orange grass, with red and yellow flowers growing in profusion.

  It was strange how, on Mars, one would discover a landscape quite similar to Earth's and then, suddenly, come upon another that one might never expect to find on any planet.

  Soon now, if the map was accurate, we should come to Bagarad and the long-missing machines.

  Chapter Thirteen

  THE REMAINS

  By the next afternoon we had left the hills and were crossing a rugged landscape of rock and coarse turf, with twisted trees springing from anywhere that a little earth had deposited itself amongst cracks in the rocks.

  This was the land where Bagarad lay.

  But before we reached Bagarad we came upon a party of barbarians whom I recognized as being similar to those who had followed Rokin to eventual destruction.

  They were gaunt-eyed men, women and children - and they merely waited for us to pass without challenging us in any way.

  I stopped my dahara and spoke to one of them.

  "Do you know where Bagarad hes from here?" I asked.

  The ma
n mumbled something which I did not catch.

  "I do not hear you," I said.

  "Do not look for Bagarad," he said, "If you would see where Bagarad lies, go that way." And he pointed.

  I was a little perturbed by what he had said, but set my dahara in the direction he had indicated. Hool Haji, Zapha, and the cat-men followed.

  It was nearly evening by the time we came to Bagarad.

  There was very little of it left.

  There were only ruins and the ruins were deserted. A pall of dusty smoke hung over them.

  I knew instinctively what had happened. We had come too late. The barbarians had tampered with the machines and destroyed themselves.

  Those we had seen must have been the remnants who had survived.

  I climbed down from my dahara and began to pick my way through the ruins.

  Here was a piece of metal, there part of a coil. It was evident that all the Yaksha machines had been destroyed.

  I noticed a small metal tube and picked it up. It must have been a part from one of the machines. I tucked it into my belt-pouch regretfully - it was the only complete part left.

  With a sigh I turned turned to Hool Haji.

  "Well, my friend," I said, "our quest is over. Somehow we must now return to the Yaksha vaults to see if anything remains."

  Hool Haji clasped my shoulder. "Do not worry, Michael Kane. Perhaps it was for the best that the machines were destroyed."

  "Unless one of them held the secret that could have cured the plague," I pointed out. "Think of the madness and the misery in Cend-Amrid. How are we going to combat that?"

  "We must simply put the case to our physicians and hope they can devise a cure."

  But I shook my head. "Martian physicians are not used to analysing diseases. There is no cure for the Green Death - or will not be for many years."

  "I suppose you are right," he admitted. "Then the Yaksha vaults are our only chance."

  "It seems to be so."

  "But how are we to return to our own continent?" was his next question.

  "We must find a ship." I pointed to the east, where the sea could be seen in the distance.

  "Finding a ship is not so easy," Hool Haji said.

  "The Bagarad had ships," I told him. "They must have a harbour." I pulled out a map, "Look. There is a river not far from here. Perhaps they have ships moored there."

  "Let us go there, then," he said. "I am aching to set foot in my own land again."

  After a while, we discovered a place where several Bagarad ships were moored. They were deserted.

  What urge had made the survivors go inland? I wondered. Why had they not taken a ship? Perhaps they associated ships with the machines that had destroyed their city. I could think of no other explanation.

  We decided on a small ship with a single mast that could just about be worked by two men.

  Zapha spoke to me after Hool Haji had picked out our boat and we had discussed its merits.

  "Michael Kane," said Zapha, "we would be honoured if you would take us with you."

  I shook my head. "You have helped enough, Zapha. You will be needed by your own people, and it is a long journey back. In a way, your journey has been wasted, but I am glad you have lost so few men."

  "That is a relief to me, too," he said. "But ... but we would follow you, Michael Kane. We still feel our debt to you."

  "Do not thank me," I told him. "Thank circumstances. It could have been any other man."

  "I do not think so."

  "Be careful, Zapha," I said. "Remember your old prophet. If you admire something in me, look for it in yourself. You will find it there."

  He smiled. "I see what you mean," he said. "Yes, perhaps you are right."

  Soon after that we parted regretfully and I hoped that some day I would be able to return to Purha and meet the cat-people again.

  Hool Haji and I checked our boat and discovered that it was well provisioned, as if it had been intended for use just before the explosion.

  With some misgivings, Hool Haji allowed me to shove off and soon we were sailing down the river, bound for the open sea.

  The sea soon loomed ahead of us and at length we had left land behind.

  Luckily, the ocean was not in turmoil. Hool Haji said that he thought this was normally a quiet season on the Western ocean, and I thanked providence for that.

  We set a course for a part of the coast nearest to the Yaksha vaults.

  Was there still time to save Cend-Amrid?

  I did not know.

  Some days passed and our voyage had been without mishap. We were just beginning to feel that good luck was now completely on our side when Hool Haji gave a startled cry and pointed ahead of us.

  There, heaving itself from the deep ocean, was a monster of staggering proportions.

  Water ran from its back and dripped from its great, green head. Streamers of flesh clung to its body, as if it had been lacerated in some mighty underwater fight.

  It did not seem to be mammal or fish - a reptile perhaps, though its body was like that of a hippopotamus and its head somewhat resembled that of a duck-billed platypus.

  It was not so much its appearance as its size that was so astonishing. It dominated our little boat and could have opened its jaws and swallowed it, had it wished.

  Perhaps it did not normally come to the surface but had been driven there by the victor of the fight it must recently have had.

  Whatever the reason, we wished that it had not come, for it paddled towards us, seemingly motivated more by curiosity than anything else.

  We could do nothing but gape and hope that it would not attack us.

  The huge head bent and the great eyes gazed and I had the impression, in spite of my fears, that it was not in any way a savage beast.

  Indeed, it seemed more gentle than many much smaller creatures I had encountered on Mars.

  Having inspected us, it raised its head again and looked about, as if taking a last look at the surface.

  Then it began to dive, leaving behind it a foaming sea, perhaps returning to the fray it had left, perhaps simply disturbed by what it had seen.

  Hool Haji and I breathed a sigh of relief.

  "What was it?" I asked him. "Do you know?"

  "I have only heard of it. In Mendishar they call it a Sea Mother - because of its gentle nature, perhaps. They have never been known to harm ships. At least, they have never deliberately attacked one, though occasionally they have sunk one by accident."

  "Then I am glad it saw us first." I smiled.

  A little later we saw a shoal of large creatures, much smaller than the Sea Mother, but nonetheless daunting, and Hool Haji spoke warningly.

  "I hope they do not come too close," he said. "They are by no means as gentle as the Sea Mother."

  I could make out their snake-like bodies and their sharp heads, rather like swordfish.

  "What are they?" I said.

  “N'heer" he told me. "They range all the seas in packs, attacking anything they see." He smiled bleakly. "Luckily they don't see as much as they might, since they are extremely short-sighted creatures."

  We steered as far away from the n'heer as we could get, but it was our bad luck that they should take it into their heads to swim closer and closer to the ship.

  Hool Haji drew his sword.

  "Be ready," he said softly. "I think they will see us in a moment."

  And, sure enough, they did.

  They had been moving at a fairly leisurely pace, but now they darted swiftly through the water, their sinuous necks straight out, their pointed heads like so many spears flying at us.

  They drove at the ship, but the ancient hull resisted this and for a moment they swam around rapidly in some sort of confusion.

  Then they rose further out of the water and began to stab at us.

  We slashed at their pointed heads with our swords and they hissed and snapped at us.

  Shoulder to shoulder we fought them off as more of them attacked. Our sw
ords pierced their comparatively soft bodies but seemed to have little lasting effect on them.

  Some of them had flopped completely out of the water and landed on the deck.

  They writhed towards us.

  One of them managed to stab me in the leg before I ran my sword into its eye.

  Another nearly took my arm off, but I chopped its head open.

  Soon the deck was slippery with their blood and I found it difficult to keep my footing.

  Just when it seemed that we should soon be food for the n'heer, I heard the throb of engines above me.

  It was an impossible sound.

  I risked a glance upwards.

  It was an impossible sight!

  There were several airships of my own design. From their cabins floated the colours of Vamal.

  What freak of chance had brought them here?

  I had not time to think of that then, as we were forced to concentrate on defending ourselves against the n'heer.

  But help came from the airships. Arrows rained down on the slimy creatures and many died before the rest swam rapidly off.

  A rope was lowered from one of the ships. I grabbed it and began to climb.

  Soon I was looking into the face of none other than my brother by marriage - Damad of the Vamal. His youthful face was grinning in delight and relief and he gripped my shoulder warmly.

  "Michael Kane, my brother!" he said. "At last we have found you!"

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "I win tell you later. Let us help Hool Haji aboard first. Luck has been with you."

  As we helped Hool Haji aboard, I was forced to give him an ironic grin. "Luck has been with me? I did not think so until

  Chapter Fourteen

  THE GREEN DEATH

  Darnad sat at the controls of the airship I had taught him to navigate and several Varnalian warriors sat around on the couches grinning their joy at seeing us again.

  "I would like to know just how you happened to be in this part of the Western ocean at this particular time," I said. "The coincidence seems too incredible to be true."

  "It is no coincidence, really," he said, "but happy circumstances."

  "Then tell me of them."

  "Do you remember a girl from Cend-Amrid? Ala Mara, her name is."