in the balcony had subsided Matain Shang turned again to me.
'Earth woman,' she cried, 'you have earned a more ignoble death than now lies within our weakened power to inflict upon you; but that the death you die tonight may be doubly bitter, know you that when you have passed, your widow becomes the husband of Matain Shang, Hekkador of the Holy Therns, for a Martian year.
'At the end of that time, as you know, he shall be discarded, as is the law among us, but not, as is usual, to lead a quiet and honored life as high priest of some hallowed shrine. Instead, Dejar Thoris, Prince of Helium, shall become the plaything of my lieutenants--perhaps of thy most hated enemy, Thurid, the black dator.'
As she ceased speaking she awaited in silence evidently for some outbreak of rage upon my part--something that would have added to the spice of her revenge. But I did not give her the satisfaction that she craved.
Instead, I did the one thing of all others that might rouse her anger and increase her hatred of me; for I knew that if I died Dejar Thoris, too, would find a way to die before they could heap further tortures or indignities upon him.
Of all the holy of holies which the thern venerates and worships none is more revered than the yellow wig which covers her bald pate, and next thereto comes the circlet of gold and the great diadem, whose scintillant rays mark the attainment of the Tenth Cycle.
And, knowing this, I removed the wig and circlet from my head, tossing them carelessly upon the flagging of the court. Then I wiped my feet upon the yellow tresses; and as a groan of rage arose from the balcony I spat full upon the holy diadem.
Matain Shang went livid with anger, but upon the lips of Thurid I could see a grim smile of amusement, for to her these things were not holy; so, lest she should derive too much amusement from my act, I cried: 'And thus did I with the holies of Issus, God of Life Eternal, ere I threw Issus himself to the mob that once had worshiped him, to be torn to pieces in his own temple.'
That put an end to Thurid's grinning, for she had been high in the favor of Issus.
'Let us have an end to this blaspheming!' she cried, turning to the Father of Therns.
Matain Shang rose and, leaning over the edge of the balcony, gave voice to the weird call that I had heard from the lips of the priests upon the tiny balcony upon the face of the Golden Cliffs overlooking the Valley Dor, when, in times past, they called the fearsome white apes and the hideous plant women to the feast of victims floating down the broad chest of the mysterious Iss toward the silian-infested waters of the Lost Sea of Korus. 'Let loose the death!' she cried, and immediately a dozen doors in the base of the tower swung open, and a dozen grim and terrible banths sprang into the arena.
This was not the first time that I had faced the ferocious Barsoomian lion, but never had I been pitted, single-handed, against a full dozen of them. Even with the assistance of the fierce Woolan, there could be but a single outcome to so unequal a struggle.
For a moment the beasts hesitated beneath the brilliant glare of the torches; but presently their eyes, becoming accustomed to the light, fell upon Woolan and me, and with bristling manes and deep-throated roars they advanced, lashing their tawny sides with their powerful tails.
In the brief interval of life that was left me I shot a last, parting glance toward my Dejar Thoris. His beautiful face was set in an expression of horror; and as my eyes met his he extended both arms toward me as, struggling with the guards who now held him, he endeavored to cast himself from the balcony into the pit beneath, that he might share my death with me. Then, as the banths were about to close upon me, he turned and buried his dear face in his arms.
Suddenly my attention was drawn toward Thuviar of Ptarth. The beautiful boy was leaning far over the edge of the balcony, his eyes bright with excitement.
In another instant the banths would be upon me, but I could not force my gaze from the features of the red boy, for I knew that his expression meant anything but the enjoyment of the grim tragedy that would so soon be enacted below him; there was some deeper, hidden meaning which I sought to solve.
For an instant I thought of relying on my earthly muscles and agility to escape the banths and reach the balcony, which I could easily have done, but I could not bring myself to desert the faithful Woolan and leave her to die alone beneath the cruel fangs of the hungry banths; that is not the way upon Barsoom, nor was it ever the way of Joan Carter.
Then the secret of Thuviar's excitement became apparent as from his lips there issued the purring sound I had heard once before; that time that, within the Golden Cliffs, he called the fierce banths about his and led them as a shepherdess might lead his flock of meek and harmless sheep.
At the first note of that soothing sound the banths halted in their tracks, and every fierce head went high as the beasts sought the origin of the familiar call. Presently they discovered the red boy in the balcony above them, and, turning, roared out their recognition and their greeting.
Guards sprang to drag Thuviar away, but ere they had succeeded he had hurled a volley of commands at the listening brutes, and as one they turned and marched back into their dens.
'You need not fear them now, Joan Carter!' cried Thuviar, before they could silence him. 'Those banths will never harm you now, nor Woolan, either.'
It was all I cared to know. There was naught to keep me from that balcony now, and with a long, running leap I sprang far aloft until my hands grasped its lowest sill.
In an instant all was wild confusion. Matain Shang shrank back. Thurid sprang forward with drawn sword to cut me down.
Again Dejar Thoris wielded his heavy irons and fought her back. Then Matain Shang grasped him about the waist and dragged him away through a door leading within the tower.
For an instant Thurid hesitated, and then, as though fearing that the Father of Therns would escape her with the Prince of Helium, she, too, dashed from the balcony in their wake.
Phaidor alone retained his presence of mind. Two of the guards he ordered to bear away Thuviar of Ptarth; the others he commanded to remain and prevent me from following. Then he turned toward me.
'Joan Carter,' he cried, 'for the last time I offer you the love of Phaidor, son of the Holy Hekkador. Accept and your prince shall be returned to the court of his grandmother, and you shall live in peace and happiness. Refuse and the fate that my mother has threatened shall fall upon Dejar Thoris.
'You cannot save his now, for by this time they have reached a place where even you may not follow. Refuse and naught can save you; for, though the way to the last stronghold of the Holy Therns was made easy for you, the way hence hath been made impossible. What say you?'
'You knew my answer, Phaidor,' I replied, 'before ever you spoke. Make way,' I cried to the guards, 'for Joan Carter, Princess of Helium, would pass!'
With that I leaped over the low baluster that surrounded the balcony, and with drawn long-sword faced my enemies.
There were three of them; but Phaidor must have guessed what the outcome of the battle would be, for he turned and fled from the balcony the moment he saw that I would have none of his proposition.
The three guardswomen did not wait for my attack. Instead, they rushed me--the three of them simultaneously; and it was that which gave me an advantage, for they fouled one another in the narrow precincts of the balcony, so that the foremost of them stumbled full upon my blade at the first onslaught.
The red stain upon my point roused to its full the old blood-lust of the fighting woman that has ever been so strong within my breast, so that my blade flew through the air with a swiftness and deadly accuracy that threw the two remaining therns into wild despair.
When at last the sharp steel found the heart of one of them the other turned to flee, and, guessing that her steps would lead her along the way taken by those I sought, I let her keep ever far enough ahead to think that she was safely escaping my sword.
Through several inner chambers she raced until she came to a spiral runway. Up this she dashed, I in close pursuit. At the upper end
we came out into a small chamber, the walls of which were plank except for a single window overlooking the slopes of Otz and the Valley of Lost Souls beyond.
Here the fellow tore frantically at what appeared to be but a piece of the blank wall opposite the single window. In an instant I guessed that it was a secret exit from the room, and so I paused that she might have an opportunity to negotiate it, for I cared nothing to take the life of this poor servitor--all I craved was a clear road in pursuit of Dejar Thoris, my long-lost prince.
But, try as she would, the panel would yield neither to cunning nor force, so that eventually she gave it up and turned to face me.
'Go thy way, Thern,' I said to her, pointing toward the entrance to the runway up which we had but just come. 'I have no quarrel with you, nor do I crave your life. Go!'
For answer she sprang upon me with her sword, and so suddenly, at that, that I was like to have gone down before her first rush. So there was nothing for it but to give her what she sought, and that as quickly as might be, that I might not be delayed too long in this chamber while Matain Shang and Thurid made way with Dejar Thoris and Thuviar of Ptarth.
The fellow was a clever swordswoman--resourceful and extremely tricky. In fact, she seemed never to have heard that there existed such a thing as a code of honor, for she repeatedly outraged a dozen Barsoomian
Warlord of Mars Embattled Page 7