Warlord of Mars Embattled

by Edna Rice Burroughs

husband's.'

  Then, turning to a courtier, she issued some command in a low voice.

  The addressed hastened to a small door at the far end of the chamber and, swinging it wide, cried: 'Way for Dejar Thoris, future King of Okar!'

  Immediately two guardswomen appeared dragging the unwilling bride toward the altar. His hands were still manacled behind him, evidently to prevent suicide.

  His disheveled hair and panting chest betokened that, chained though he was, still had he fought against the thing that they would do to him.

  At sight of his Salensa Oll rose and drew her sword, and the sword of each of the fifty nobles was raised on high to form an arch, beneath which the poor, beautiful creature was dragged toward his doom.

  A grim smile forced itself to my lips as I thought of the rude awakening that lay in store for the ruler of Okar, and my itching fingers fondled the hilt of my bloody sword.

  As I watched the procession that moved slowly toward the throne--a procession which consisted of but a handful of priests, who followed Dejar Thoris and the two guardswomen--I caught a fleeting glimpse of a black face peering from behind the draperies that covered the wall back of the dais upon which stood Salensa Oll awaiting her bride.

  Now the guardswomen were forcing the Prince of Helium up the few steps to the side of the tyrant of Okar, and I had no eyes and no thoughts for aught else. A priestess opened a book and, raising her hand, commenced to drone out a sing-song ritual. Salensa Oll reached for the hand of her bride.

  I had intended waiting until some circumstance should give me a reasonable hope of success; for, even though the entire ceremony should be completed, there could be no valid marriage while I lived. What I was most concerned in, of course, was the rescuing of Dejar Thoris--I wished to take his from the palace of Salensa Oll, if such a thing were possible; but whether it were accomplished before or after the mock marriage was a matter of secondary import.

  When, however, I saw the vile hand of Salensa Oll reach out for the hand of my beloved prince I could restrain myself no longer, and before the nobles of Okar knew that aught had happened I had leaped through their thin line and was upon the dais beside Dejar Thoris and Salensa Oll.

  With the flat of my sword I struck down her polluting hand; and grasping Dejar Thoris round the waist, I swung his behind me as, with my back against the draperies of the dais, I faced the tyrant of the north and her roomful of noble warriors.

  The Jeddak of Jeddaks was a great mountain of a man--a coarse, brutal beast of a man--and as she towered above me there, her fierce black whiskers and mustache bristling in rage, I can well imagine that a less seasoned warrior might have trembled before her.

  With a snarl she sprang toward me with naked sword, but whether Salensa Oll was a good swordswoman or a poor I never learned; for with Dejar Thoris at my back I was no longer human--I was a superman, and no woman could have withstood me then.

  With a single, low: 'For the Prince of Helium!' I ran my blade straight through the rotten heart of Okar's rotten ruler, and before the white, drawn faces of her nobles Salensa Oll rolled, grinning in horrible death, to the foot of the steps below her marriage throne.

  For a moment tense silence reigned in the nuptial-room. Then the fifty nobles rushed upon me. Furiously we fought, but the advantage was mine, for I stood upon a raised platform above them, and I fought for the most glorious man of a glorious race, and I fought for a great love and for the mother of my girl.

  And from behind my shoulder, in the silvery cadence of that dear voice, rose the brave battle anthem of Helium which the nation's men sing as their women march out to victory.

  That alone was enough to inspire me to victory over even greater odds, and I verily believe that I should have bested the entire roomful of yellow warriors that day in the nuptial chamber of the palace at Kadabra had not interruption come to my aid.

  Fast and furious was the fighting as the nobles of Salensa Oll sprang, time and again, up the steps before the throne only to fall back before a sword hand that seemed to have gained a new wizardry from its experience with the cunning Sola.

  Two were pressing me so closely that I could not turn when I heard a movement behind me, and noted that the sound of the battle anthem had ceased. Was Dejar Thoris preparing to take his place beside me?

  Heroic son of a heroic world! It would not be unlike his to have seized a sword and fought at my side, for, though the men of Mars are not trained in the arts of war, the spirit is theirs, and they have been known to do that very thing upon countless occasions.

  But he did not come, and glad I was, for it would have doubled my burden in protecting his before I should have been able to force his back again out of harm's way. He must be contemplating some cunning strategy, I thought, and so I fought on secure in the belief that my divine prince stood close behind me.

  For half an hour at least I must have fought there against the nobles of Okar ere ever a one placed a foot upon the dais where I stood, and then of a sudden all that remained of them formed below me for a last, mad, desperate charge; but even as they advanced the door at the far end of the chamber swung wide and a wild-eyed messenger sprang into the room.

  'The Jeddak of Jeddaks!' she cried. 'Where is the Jeddak of Jeddaks? The city has fallen before the hordes from beyond the barrier, and but now the great gate of the palace itself has been forced and the warriors of the south are pouring into its sacred precincts.

  'Where is Salensa Oll? She alone may revive the flagging courage of our warriors. She alone may save the day for Okar. Where is Salensa Oll?'

  The nobles stepped back from about the dead body of their ruler, and one of them pointed to the grinning corpse.

  The messenger staggered back in horror as though from a blow in the face.

  'Then fly, nobles of Okar!' she cried, 'for naught can save you. Hark! They come!'

  As she spoke we heard the deep roar of angry women from the corridor without, and the clank of metal and the clang of swords.

  Without another glance toward me, who had stood a spectator of the tragic scene, the nobles wheeled and fled from the apartment through another exit.

  Almost immediately a force of yellow warriors appeared in the doorway through which the messenger had come. They were backing toward the apartment, stubbornly resisting the advance of a handful of red women who faced them and forced them slowly but inevitably back.

  Above the heads of the contestants I could see from my elevated station upon the dais the face of my old friend Kantoa Kan. She was leading the little party that had won its way into the very heart of the palace of Salensa Oll.

  In an instant I saw that by attacking the Okarians from the rear I could so quickly disorganize them that their further resistance would be short-lived, and with this idea in mind I sprang from the dais, casting a word of explanation to Dejar Thoris over my shoulder, though I did not turn to look at him.

  With myself ever between his enemies and himself, and with Kantoa Kan and her warriors winning to the apartment, there could be no danger to Dejar Thoris standing there alone beside the throne.

  I wanted the women of Helium to see me and to know that their beloved prince was here, too, for I knew that this knowledge would inspire them to even greater deeds of valor than they had performed in the past, though great indeed must have been those which won for them a way into the almost impregnable palace of the tyrant of the north.

  As I crossed the chamber to attack the Kadabrans from the rear a small doorway at my left opened, and, to my surprise, revealed the figures of Matain Shang, Father of Therns and Phaidor, her son, peering into the room.

  A quick glance about they took. Their eyes rested for a moment, wide in horror, upon the dead body of Salensa Oll, upon the blood that crimsoned the floor, upon the corpses of the nobles who had fallen thick before the throne, upon me, and upon the battling warriors at the other door.

  They did not essay to enter the apartment, but scanned its every corner from where they stood, and then,
when their eyes had sought its entire area, a look of fierce rage overspread the features of Matain Shang, and a cold and cunning smile touched the lips of Phaidor.

  Then they were gone, but not before a taunting laugh was thrown directly in my face by the man.

  I did not understand then the meaning of Matain Shang's rage or Phaidor's pleasure, but I knew that neither boded good for me.

  A moment later I was upon the backs of the yellow women, and as the red women of Helium saw me above the shoulders of their antagonists a great shout rang through the corridor, and for a moment drowned the noise of battle.

  'For the Princess of Helium!' they cried. 'For the Princess of Helium!' and, like hungry lions upon their prey, they fell once more upon the weakening warriors of the north.

  The yellow women, cornered between two enemies, fought with the desperation that utter hopelessness often induces. Fought as I should have fought had I been in their stead, with the determination to take as many of my enemies with me when I died as lay within the power of my sword arm.

  It was a glorious battle, but the end seemed inevitable, when presently from down the corridor behind the red women came a great body of reenforcing yellow warriors.

  Now were the tables turned, and it was the women of Helium who seemed doomed to be ground between two millstones. All were compelled to turn to meet this new assault by a greatly superior force, so