Chapter 16
TURAN dashed himself against the door of his prison in a vaineffort to break through the solid skeel to the side of Tara whomhe knew to be in grave danger, but the heavy panels held and hesucceeded only in bruising his shoulders and his arms. At last hedesisted and set about searching his prison for some other meansof escape. He found no other opening in the stone walls, but hissearch revealed a heterogeneous collection of odds and ends ofarms and apparel, of harness and ornaments and insignia, andsleeping silks and furs in great quantities. There were swordsand spears and several large, two-bladed battle-axes, the headsof which bore a striking resemblance to the propellor of a smallflier. Seizing one of these he attacked the door once more withgreat fury. He expected to hear something from I-Gos at thisruthless destruction, but no sound came to him from beyond thedoor, which was, he thought, too thick for the human voice topenetrate; but he would have wagered much that I-Gos heard him.Bits of the hard wood splintered at each impact of the heavy axe,but it was slow work and heavy. Presently he was compelled torest, and so it went for what seemed hours--working almost to theverge of exhaustion and then resting for a few minutes; but everthe hole grew larger though he could see nothing of the interiorof the room beyond because of the hanging that I-Gos had drawnacross it after he had locked Turan within.
At last, however, the panthan had hewn an opening through whichhis body could pass, and seizing a long-sword that he had broughtclose to the door for the purpose he crawled through into thenext room. Flinging aside the arras he stood ready, sword inhand, to fight his way to the side of Tara of Helium--but she wasnot there. In the center of the room lay I-Gos, dead upon thefloor; but Tara of Helium was nowhere to be seen.
Turan was nonplussed. It must have been her hand that had struckdown the old man, yet she had made no effort to release Turanfrom his prison. And then he thought of those last words of hers:"I do not want your love! I hate you," and the truth dawned uponhim--she had seized upon this first opportunity to escape him.With downcast heart Turan turned away. What should he do? Therecould be but one answer. While he lived and she lived he muststill leave no stone unturned to effect her escape and safereturn to the land of her people. But how? How was he even tofind his way from this labyrinth? How was he to find her again?He walked to the nearest doorway. It chanced to be that which ledinto the room containing the mounted dead, awaitingtransportation to balcony or grim room or whatever place was toreceive them. His eyes travelled to the great, painted warrior onthe thoat and as they ran over the splendid trappings and theserviceable arms a new light came into the pain-dulled eyes ofthe panthan. With a quick step he crossed to the side of the deadwarrior and dragged him from his mount. With equal celerity hestripped him of his harness and his arms, and tearing off hisown, donned the regalia of the dead man. Then he hastened back tothe room in which he had been trapped, for there he had seen thatwhich he needed to make his disguise complete. In a cabinet hefound them--pots of paint that the old taxidermist had used toplace the war-paint in its wide bands across the cold faces ofdead warriors.
A few moments later Gahan of Gathol emerged from the room awarrior of Manator in every detail of harness, equipment, andornamentation. He had removed from the leather of the dead manthe insignia of his house and rank so that he might pass, withthe least danger of arousing suspicion, as a common warrior.
To search for Tara of Helium in the vast, dim labyrinth of thepits of O-Tar seemed to the Gatholian a hopeless quest,foredoomed to failure. It would be wiser to seek the streets ofManator where he might hope to learn first if she had beenrecaptured and, if not, then he could return to the pits andpursue the hunt for her. To find egress from the maze he mustperforce travel a considerable distance through the windingcorridors and chambers, since he had no idea as to the locationor direction of any exit. In fact, he could not have retraced hissteps a hundred yards toward the point at which he and Tara hadentered the gloomy caverns, and so he set out in the hope that hemight find by accident either Tara of Helium or a way to thestreet level above.
For a time he passed room after room filled with the cunninglypreserved dead of Manator, many of which were piled in tiersafter the manner that firewood is corded, and as he moved throughcorridor and chamber he noticed hieroglyphics painted upon thewalls above every opening and at each fork or crossing ofcorridors, until by observation he reached the conclusion thatthese indicated the designations of passageways, so that one whounderstood them might travel quickly and surely through the pits;but Turan did not understand them. Even could he have read thelanguage of Manator they might not materially have aided oneunfamiliar with the city; but he could not read them at allsince, though there is but one spoken language upon Barsoom,there are as many different written languages as there arenations. One thing, however, soon became apparent to him--thehieroglyphic of a corridor remained the same until the corridorended.
It was not long before Turan realized from the distance that hehad traveled that the pits were part of a vast systemundermining, possibly, the entire city. At least he was convincedthat he had passed beyond the precincts of the palace. Thecorridors and chambers varied in appearance and architecture fromtime to time. All were lighted, though usually quite dimly, withradium bulbs. For a long time he saw no signs of life other thanan occasional ulsio, then quite suddenly he came face to facewith a warrior at one of the numerous crossings. The fellowlooked at him, nodded, and passed on. Turan breathed a sigh ofrelief as he realized that his disguise was effective, but he wascaught in the middle of it by a hail from the warrior who hadstopped and turned toward him. The panthan was glad that a swordhung at his side, and glad too that they were buried in the dimrecesses of the pits and that there would be but a singleantagonist, for time was precious.
"Heard you any word of the other?'' called the warrior to him.
"No," replied Turan, who had not the faintest idea to whom orwhat the fellow referred.
"He cannot escape," continued the warrior. "The woman randirectly into our arms, but she swore that she knew not where hercompanion might be found."
"They took her back to O-Tar?" asked Turan, for now he knew whomthe other meant, and he would know more.
"They took her back to The Towers of Jetan," replied the warrior."Tomorrow the games commence and doubtless she will be playedfor, though I doubt if any wants her, beautiful as she is. Shefears not even O-Tar. By Cluros! but she would make a hard slaveto subdue--a regular she-banth she is. Not for me," and hecontinued on his way shaking his head.
Turan hurried on searching for an avenue that led to the level ofthe streets above when suddenly he came to the open doorway of asmall chamber in which sat a man who was chained to the wall.Turan voiced a low exclamation of surprise and pleasure as herecognized that the man was A-Kor, and that he had stumbled byaccident upon the very cell in which he had been imprisoned.A-Kor looked at him questioningly. It was evident that he did notrecognize his fellow prisoner. Turan crossed to the table andleaning close to the other whispered to him.
"I am Turan the panthan," he said, "who was chained beside you."
A-Kor looked at him closely. "Your own mother would never knowyou!" he said; "but tell me, what has transpired since they tookyou away?"
Turan recounted his experiences in the throne room of O-Tar andin the pits beneath, "and now," he continued, "I must find theseTowers of Jetan and see what may be done toward liberating thePrincess of Helium."
A-Kor shook his head. "Long was I dwar of the Towers," he said,"and I can say to you, stranger, that you might as well attemptto reduce Manator, single handed, as to rescue a prisoner fromThe Towers of Jetan."
"But I must," replied Turan.
"Are you better than a good swordsman?" asked A-Kor presently.
"I am accounted so," replied Turan.
"Then there is a way--sst!" he was suddenly silent and pointingtoward the base of the wall at the end of the room.
Turan looked in the direction the other's forefinger indicated,to see projecting from the mouth of an ulsio's burrow two largechelae and a pair of protruding eyes.
"Ghek!" he cried and immediately the hideous kaldane crawled outupon the floor and approached the table. A-Kor drew back with ahalf-stifled ejaculation of repulsion. "Do not fear," Turanreassured him. "It is my friend--he whom I told you held O-Tarwhile Tara and I escaped."
Ghek climbed to the table top and squatted between the twowarriors. "You are safe in assuming," he said addressing A-Kor,"that Turan the panthan has no master in all Manator where theart of sword-play is concerned. I overheard your conversation--goon."
"You are his friend," continued A-Kor, "and so I may explainsafely in your presence the only plan I know whereby he may hopeto rescue the Princess of Helium. She is to be the stake of oneof the games and it is O-Tar's desire that she be won by slavesand common warriors, since she repulsed him. Thus would he punishher. Not a single man, but all who survive upon the winning sideare to possess her. With money, however, one may buy off theothers before the game. That you could do, and if your side wonand you survived she would become your slave."
"But how may a stranger and a hunted fugitive accomplish this?"asked Turan.
"No one will recognize you. You will go tomorrow to the keeper ofthe Towers and enlist in that game for which the girl is to bethe stake, telling the keeper that you are from Manataj, thefarthest city of Manator. If he questions you, you may say thatyou saw her when she was brought into the city after her capture.If you win her, you will find thoats stabled at my palace and youwill carry from me a token that will place all that is mine atyour disposal."
"But how can I buy off the others in the game without money?"asked Turan. "I have none--not even of my own country."
A-Kor opened his pocket-pouch and drew forth a packet ofManatorian money.
"Here is sufficient to buy them off twice over," he said, handinga portion of it to Turan.
"But why do you do this for a stranger?" asked the panthan.
"My mother was a captive princess here," replied A-Kor. "I but dofor the Princess of Helium what my mother would have me do."
"Under the circumstances, then, Manatorian," replied Turan, "Icannot but accept your generosity on behalf of Tara of Helium andlive in hope that some day I may do for you something in return."
"Now you must be gone," advised A-Kor. "At any minute a guard maycome and discover you here. Go directly to the Avenue of Gates,which circles the city just within the outer wall. There you willfind many places devoted to the lodging of strangers. You willknow them by the thoat's head carved above the doors. Say thatyou are here from Manataj to witness the games. Take the name ofU-Kal--it will arouse no suspicion, nor will you if you can avoidconversation. Early in the morning seek the keeper of The Towersof Jetan. May the strength and fortune of all your ancestors bewith you!"
Bidding good-bye to Ghek and A-Kor, the panthan, followingdirections given him by A-Kor, set out to find his way to theAvenue of Gates, nor had he any great difficulty. On the way hemet several warriors, but beyond a nod they gave him no heed.With ease he found a lodging place where there were manystrangers from other cities of Manator. As he had had no sleepsince the previous night he threw himself among the silks andfurs of his couch to gain the rest which he must have, was he togive the best possible account of himself in the service of Taraof Helium the following day.
It was already morning when he awoke, and rising he paid for hislodgings, sought a place to eat, and a short time later was onhis way toward The Towers of Jetan, which he had no difficulty infinding owing to the great crowds that were winding along theavenues toward the games. The new keeper of The Towers who hadsucceeded E-Med was too busy to scrutinize entries closely, forin addition to the many volunteer players there were scores ofslaves and prisoners being forced into the games by their ownersor the government. The name of each must be recorded as well asthe position he was to play and the game or games in which he wasto be entered, and then there were the substitutes for each thatwas entered in more than a single game--one for each additionalgame that an individual was entered for, that no succeeding gamemight be delayed by the death or disablement of a player.
"Your name?" asked a clerk as Turan presented himself.
"U-Kal," replied the panthan.
"Your city?"
"Manataj."
The keeper, who was standing beside the clerk, looked at Turan."You have come a great way to play at jetan," he said. "It isseldom that the men of Manataj attend other than the decennialgames. Tell me of O-Zar! Will he attend next year? Ah, but he wasa noble fighter. If you be half the swordsman, U-Kal, the fame ofManataj will increase this day. But tell me, what of O-Zar?"
"He is well," replied Turan, glibly, "and he sent greetings tohis friends in Manator."
"Good!" exclaimed the keeper, "and now in what game would youenter?"
"I would play for the Heliumetic princess, Tara," replied Turan.
"But man, she is to be the stake of a game for slaves andcriminals," cried the keeper. "You would not volunteer for such agame!"
"But I would," replied Turan. "I saw here when she was broughtinto the city and even then I vowed to possess her."
"But you will have to share her with the survivors even if yourcolor wins," objected the other.
"They may be brought to reason," insisted Turan.
"And you will chance incurring the wrath of O-Tar, who has nolove for this savage barbarian," explained the keeper.
"And I win her O-Tar will be rid of her," said Turan.
The keeper of The Towers of Jetan shook his head. "You are rash,"he said. "I would that I might dissuade the friend of my friendO-Zar from such madness."
"Would you favor the friend of O-Zar?" asked Turan.
"Gladly!" exclaimed the other. "What may I do for him?"
"Make me chief of the Black and give me for my pieces all slavesfrom Gathol, for I understand that those be excellent warriors,"replied the panthan.
"It is a strange request," said the keeper, "but for my friendO-Zar I would do even more, though of course --" hehesitated--"it is customary for one who would be chief to makesome slight payment."
"Certainly," Turan hastened to assure him; "I had not forgottenthat. I was about to ask you what the customary amount is."
"For the friend of my friend it shall be nominal," replied thekeeper, naming a figure that Gahan, accustomed to the high priceof wealthy Gathol, thought ridiculously low.
"Tell me," he said, handing the money to the keeper, "when thegame for the Heliumite is to be played."
"It is the second in order of the day's games; and now if youwill come with me you may select your pieces."
Turan followed the keeper to a large court which lay between thetowers and the jetan field, where hundreds of warriors wereassembled. Already chiefs for the games of the day were selectingtheir pieces and assigning them to positions, though for theprincipal games these matters had been arranged for weeks before.The keeper led Turan to a part of the courtyard where themajority of the slaves were assembled.
"Take your choice of those not assigned," said the keeper, "andwhen you have your quota conduct them to the field. Your placewill be assigned you by an officer there, and there you willremain with your pieces until the second game is called. I wishyou luck, U-Kal, though from what I have heard you will be morelucky to lose than to win the slave from Helium."
After the fellow had departed Turan approached the slaves. "Iseek the best swordsmen for the second game," he announced. "Menfrom Gathol I wish, for I have heard that these be noblefighters."
A slave rose and approached him. "It is all the same in whichgame we die," he said. "I would fight for you as a panthan in thesecond game."
Another came. "I am not from Gathol," he said. "I am from Helium,and I would fight for the honor of a princess of Helium."
"Good!" exclaimed Turan. "Art a swordsman of repute in Helium?"
"I was a dwar under the great Warlord, and I have fought at hisside in a score of battles from The Golden Cliffs to The CarrionCaves. My name is Val Dor. Who knows Helium, knows my prowess."
The name was well known to Gahan, who had heard the man spoken ofon his last visit to Helium, and his mysterious disappearancediscussed as well as his renown as a fighter.
"How could I know aught of Helium?" asked Turan; "but if you besuch a fighter as you say no position could suit you better thanthat of Flier. What say you?"
The man's eyes denoted sudden surprise. He looked keenly atTuran, his eyes running quickly over the other's harness. Then hestepped quite close so that his words might not be overheard.
"Methinks you may know more of Helium than of Manator," hewhispered.
"What mean you, fellow?" demanded Turan, seeking to cudgel hisbrains for the source of this man's knowledge, guess, orinspiration.
"I mean," replied Val Dor, "that you are not of Manator and thatif you wish to hide the fact it is well that you speak not to aManatorian as you did just speak to me of--Fliers! There be noFliers in Manator and no piece in their game of Jetan bearingthat name. Instead they call him who stands next to the Chief orPrincess, Odwar. The piece has the same moves and power that theFlier has in the game as played outside Manator. Remember thisthen and remember, too, that if you have a secret it be safe inthe keeping of Val Dor of Helium."
Turan made no reply but turned to the task of selecting theremainder of his pieces. Val Dor, the Heliumite, and Floran, thevolunteer from Gathol, were of great assistance to him, since oneor the other of them knew most of the slaves from whom hisselection was to be made. The pieces all chosen, Turan led themto the place beside the playing field where they were to waittheir turn, and here he passed the word around that they were tofight for more than the stake he offered for the princess shouldthey win. This stake they accepted, so that Turan was sure ofpossessing Tara if his side was victorious, but he knew thatthese men would fight even more valorously for chivalry than formoney, nor was it difficult to enlist the interest even of theGatholians in the service of the princess. And now he held outthe possibility of a still further reward.
"I cannot promise you," he explained, "but I may say I have heardthat this day which makes it possible that should we win thisgame we may even win your freedom!"
They leaped to their feet and crowded around him with manyquestions.
"It may not be spoken of aloud," he said; "but Floran and Val Dorknow and they assure me that you may all be trusted. Listen! WhatI would tell you places my life in your hands, but you must knowthat every man will realize that he is fighting today thegreatest battle of his life--for the honor and the freedom ofBarsoom's most wondrous princess and for his own freedom aswell--for the chance to return each to his own country and to thewoman who awaits him there.
"First, then, is my secret. I am not of Manator. Like yourselvesI am a slave, though for the moment disguised as a Manatorianfrom Manataj. My country and my identity must remain undisclosedfor reasons that have no bearing upon our game today. I, then, amone of you. I fight for the same things that you will fight for.
"And now for that which I have but just learned. U-Thor, thegreat jed of Manatos, quarreled with O-Tar in the palace the daybefore yesterday and their warriors set upon one another. U-Thorwas driven as far as The Gate of Enemies, where he now liesencamped. At any moment the fight may be renewed; but it isthought that U-Thor has sent to Manatos for reinforcements. Now,men of Gathol, here is the thing that interests you. U-Thor hasrecently taken to wife the Princess Haja of Gathol, who was slaveto O-Tar and whose son, A-Kor, was dwar of The Towers of Jetan.Haja's heart is filled with loyalty for Gathol and compassion forher sons who are here enslaved, and this latter sentiment she hasto some extent transmitted to U-Thor. Aid me, therefore, infreeing the Princess Tara of Helium and I believe that I can aidyou and her and myself to escape the city. Bend close your ears,slaves of O-Tar, that no cruel enemy may hear my words," andGahan of Gathol whispered in low tones the daring plan he hadconceived. "And now," he demanded, when he had finished, "let himwho does not dare speak now." None replied. "Is there none?"
"And it would not betray you should I cast my sword at thy feet,it had been done ere this," said one in low tones pregnant withsuppressed feeling.
"And I!" "And I!" "And I!" chorused the others in vibrantwhispers.