The Collected John Carter of Mars (Volume 2)

by Edgar Rice Burroughs

  Preceded by Gor Hajus and followed by Dar Tarus, I ascended the runway towards the roof where the conversation of the priests had informed us were located the royal hangars. Had Hovan Du and Sag Or been with us my cup of happiness would have been full, for within half a day, what had seemed utter failure and defeat had been turned almost to assured success. At the landing where lay Xaxa’s apartments we halted and looked within, for the long night voyage I contemplated would be cold and the body of Valla Dia must be kept warm with suitable robes even though it was inhabited by the spirit of Xaxa. Seeing no one we entered and soon found what we required. As I was adjusting a heavy robe of orluk about the Jeddara she regained consciousness. Instantly she recognized me and then Gor Hajus and finally Dar Tarus. Mechanically she felt for her dagger, but it was not there and when she saw my smile she paled with anger. At first she must have jumped to the conclusion that she had been the victim of a hoax, but presently a doubt seemed to enter her mind—she must have been recalling some of the things that had transpired within the temple of the Great Tur, and these, neither she nor any other mortal might explain.

  “Who are you?” she demanded.

  “I am Tur,” I replied, brazenly.

  “What is your purpose with me?”

  “I am going to take you away from Phundahl,” I replied.

  “But I do not wish to go. You are not Tur. You are Vad Varo. I shall call for help and my guards will come and slay you.”

  “There is no one in the palace,” I reminded her. “Did I, Tur, not send them away?”

  “I shall not go with you,” she announced firmly. “Rather would I die.”

  “You shall go with me, Xaxa,” I replied, and though she fought and struggled we carried her from her apartment and up the spiral runway to the roof where, I prayed, I should find the hangars and the royal fliers; and as we stepped out into the fresh night air of Mars we did see the hangars before us, but we saw something else—a group of Phundahlian warriors of the Jeddara’s Guard whom they had evidently failed to notify of the commands of Tur. At sight of them Xaxa cried aloud in relief.

  “To me! To the Jeddara!” she cried. “Strike down these assassins and save me!”

  There were three of them and there were three of us, but they were armed and between us we had but Xaxa’s slender dagger. Gor Hajus carried that. Victory seemed turned to defeat as they rushed towards us; but it was Gor Hajus who gave them pause. He seized Xaxa and raised the blade, its point above her heart. “Halt!” he cried, “or I strike.”

  The warriors hesitated; Xaxa was silent, stricken with fear. Thus we stood in stalemate when, just beyond the three Phundahlian warriors, I saw a movement at the roof ’s edge. What was it? In the dim light I saw something that seemed a human head, and yet unhuman, rise slowly above the edge of the roof, and then, silently, a great form followed, and then I recognized it—Hovan Du, the great white ape.

  “Tell them,” I cried to Xaxa in a loud voice that Hovan Du might hear, “that I am Tur, for see, I come again in the semblance of a white ape!” and I pointed to Hovan Du. “I would not destroy these poor warriors. Let them lay down their weapons and go in peace.”

  The men turned, and seeing the great ape standing there behind them, materialized, it might have been, out of thin air, were shaken.

  “Who is he, Jeddara?” demanded one of the men.

  “It is Tur,” replied Xaxa in a weak voice; “but save me from him! Save me from him!”

  “Throw down your weapons and your harness and fly!” I commanded, “or Tur will strike you dead. Heard you not the people rushing from the palace at Tur’s command? How think you we brought Xaxa hither with a lesser power than Tur’s when all her palace was filled with her fighting men? Go, while yet you may in safety.”

  One of them unbuckled his harness and threw it with his weapons upon the roof, and as he started at a run for the spiral his companions followed his example. Then Hovan Du approached us.

  “Well done, Vad Varo,” he growled, “though I know not what it is all about.”

  “That you shall know later,” I told him, “but now we must find a swift flier and be upon our way. Where is Sag Or? Does he still live?”

  “I have him securely bound and safely hidden in one of the high towers of the palace,” replied the ape. “It will be easy to get him when we have launched a flier.”

  Xaxa was eyeing us ragefully. “You are not Tur!” she cried. “The ape has exposed you.”

  “But too late to profit you in any way, Jeddara,” I assured her. “Nor could you convince one of your people who stood in the temple this night that I am not Tur. Nor do you, yourself, know that I am not. The ways of Tur, the all-powerful, all-knowing, are beyond the conception of mortal man. To you then, Jeddara, I am Tur, and you will find me all-powerful enough for my purposes.”

  I think she was still perplexed as we found and dragged forth a flier, aboard which we placed her, and turned the craft’s nose towards a lofty tower where Hovan Du told us lay Sag Or.

  “I shall be glad to see myself again,” said Dar Tarus, with a laugh.

  “And you shall be yourself again, Dar Tarus,” I told him, “as soon as ever we can come again to the pits of Ras Thavas.”

  “Would that I might be reunited with my sweet Kara Vasa,” he sighed. “Then, Vad Varo, the last full measure of my gratitude would be yours.”

  “Where may we find her?”

  “Alas, I do not know. It was while I was searching for her that I was apprehended by the agents of Xaxa. I had been to her father’s palace only to learn that he had been assassinated and his property confiscated. The whereabouts of Kara Vasa they either did not know or would not divulge; but they held me there upon one pretext or another until a detachment of the Jeddara’s Guard could come and arrest me.”

  “We shall have to make inquiries of Sag Or,” I said.

  We were now coming to a stop alongside a window of the tower Hovan Du had indicated, and he and Dar Tarus leaped to the sill and disappeared within. We were all armed now, having taken the weapons discarded by the three warriors at the hangars, and with a good flier beneath our feet and all our little company reunited, with Xaxa and Sag Or, whom they were now conducting aboard, we were indeed in high spirits.

  As we got under way again, setting our nose towards the east, I asked Sag Or if he knew what had become of Kara Vasa, but he assured me, in surly tones, that he did not.

  “Think again, Sag Or,” I admonished him, “and think hard, for perhaps upon your answer your life depends.”

  “What chance have I for life?” he sneered, casting an ugly look towards Dar Tarus.

  “You have every chance,” I replied. “Your life lies in the hollow of my hand; and you serve me well it shall be yours, though in your own body and not in that belonging to Dar Tarus.”

  “You do not intend destroying me?”

  “Neither you nor Xaxa,” I answered. “Xaxa shall live on in her own body and you in yours.”

  “I do not wish to live in my own body,” snapped the Jeddara.

  Dar Tarus stood looking at Sag Or—looking at his own body like some disembodied soul—as weird a situation as I have ever encountered.

  “Tell me, Sag Or,” he said, “what has become of Kara Vasa. When my body has been restored to me and yours to you I shall hold no enmity against you if you have not harmed Kara Vasa and will tell me where she be.”

  “I cannot tell you, for I do not know. She was not harmed, but the day after you were assassinated she disappeared from Phundahl. We were positive that she was spirited away by her father, but from him we could learn nothing. Then he was assassinated,” the man glanced at Xaxa, “and since, we have learned nothing. A slave told us that Kara Vasa, with some of her father’s warriors, had embarked upon a flier and set out for Helium, where she purposed placing herself under the protection of the great Warlord of Barsoom; but of the truth of that we know nothing. This is the truth. I, Sag Or, have spoken!”

  It was fu
tile then to search Phundahl for Kara Vasa and so we held our course towards the east and the Tower of Thavas.

  chapter XIII

  BACK TO THAVAS

  ALL THAT NIGHT we sped beneath the hurtling moons of Mars, as strange a company as was ever foregathered upon any planet, I will swear. Two men, each possessing the body of the other, an old and wicked empress whose fair body belonged to a youthful damsel beloved by another of this company, a great white ape dominated by half the brain of a human being, and I, a creature of a distant planet, with Gor Hajus, the Assassin of Toonol, completed the mad roster.

  I could scarce keep my eyes from the fair form and face of Xaxa, and it is well that I was thus fascinated for I caught her in the act of attempting to hurl herself overboard, so repugnant to her was the prospect of living again in her own old and hideous corpse. After that I kept her securely bound and fastened to the deck, though it hurt me to see the bonds upon those fair limbs.

  Dar Tarus was almost equally fascinated by the contemplation of his own body, which he had not seen for many years.

  “By my first ancestor,” he ejaculated. “It must be that I was the least vain of fellows, for I give you my word I had no idea that I was so fair to look upon. I can say this now without seeming egotism, since I am speaking of Sag Or,” and he laughed aloud at his little joke.

  But the fact remained that the body and face of Dar Tarus were beautiful indeed, though there was a hint of steel in the eyes and the set of the jaw that betokened fighting blood. Little wonder, then, that Sag Or had coveted the body of this young warrior; for his own, which Dar Tarus now possessed, was marked by dissipation and age; nor that Dar Tarus yearned to come again into his own.

  Just before dawn we dropped to one of the numerous small islands that dot the Great Toonolian Marshes and nosing the ship between the boles of great trees we came to rest upon the surface of the ground, half buried in the lush and gorgeous jungle grasses, well hidden from the sight of possible pursuers. Here Hovan Du found fruits and nuts for us which the simian section of his brain pronounced safe for human consumption, and instinct led him to a near-by spring from which there bubbled delicious water. We four were half famished and much fatigued, so that the food and water were most welcome to us; nor did Xaxa and Sag Or refuse them. Having eaten, three of us lay down upon the ship’s deck to sleep, after securely chaining our prisoners, while the fourth stood watch. In this way, taking turns, we slept away most of the day and when night fell, rested and refreshed, we were ready to resume our flight.

  Making a wide detour to the south we avoided Toonol and about two hours before dawn we sighted the high Tower of Thavas. I think we were all keyed up to the highest pitch of excitement, for there was not one aboard that flier but whose whole life would be seriously affected by the success or failure of our venture. As a first precaution we secured the hands of Xaxa and Sag Or behind their backs and placed gags in their mouths, lest they succeed in giving warning of our approach.

  Cluros had long since set and Thuria was streaming towards the horizon as we stopped our motor and drifted without lights a mile or two south of the tower while we waited impatiently for Thuria to leave the heavens to darkness and the world to us. To the north-west the lights of Toonol shone plainly against the dark background of the windows of the great laboratory of Ras Thavas, but the tower itself was dark from plinth to pinnacle.

  And now the nearer moon dropped plummetlike beneath the horizon and left the scene to darkness and to us. Dar Tarus started the motor, the wonderful, silent motor of Barsoom, and we moved slowly, close to the ground, towards Ras Thavas’ island, with no sound other than the gentle whirring of our propeller; nor could that have been heard scarce a hundred feet so slowly was it turning. Close off the island we came to a stop behind a cluster of giant trees and Hovan Du, going into the bow, uttered a few low growls. Then we stood waiting in silence, listening. There was a rustling in the dense undergrowth upon the shore. Again Hovan Du voiced his low, grim call and this time there came an answer from the black shadows. Hovan Du spoke in the language of the great apes and the invisible creature replied.

  For five minutes, during which time we were aware from the different voices that others had joined in the conversation from the shore, the apes conversed, and then Hovan Du turned to me.

  “It is arranged,” he said. “They will permit us to hide our ship beneath these trees and they will permit us to pass out again when we are ready and board her, nor will they harm us in any way. All they ask is that when we are through we shall leave the gate open that leads to the inner court.”

  “Do they understand that while an ape goes in with us none will return with us?” I asked.

  “Yes; but they will not harm us.”

  “Why do they wish the gate left open?”

  “Do not inquire too closely, Vad Varo,” replied Hovan Du. “It should be enough that the great apes make it possible for you to restore Valla Dia’s body to her brain and escape with her from this terrible place.”

  “It is enough,” I replied. “When may we land?”

  “At once. They will help us drag the ship beneath the trees and make her fast.”

  “But first we must top the wall to the inner court,” I reminded him.

  “Yes, true—I had forgotten that we cannot open the gate from this side.”

  He spoke again, then, to the apes, whom we had not yet seen; and then he told us that all was arranged and that he and Dar Tarus would return with the ship after landing us inside the wall.

  Again we got under way and rising slowly above the outer wall dropped silently to the courtyard beyond. The night was unusually dark, clouds having followed Thuria and blotted out the stars after the moon had set. No one could have seen the ship at a distance of fifty feet, and we moved almost without noise. Quietly we lowered our prisoners over the side and Gor Hajus and I remained with them while Dar Tarus and Hovan Du rose again and piloted the ship back to its hiding place.

  I moved at once to the gate and, unlatching it, waited. I heard nothing. Never, I think, have I endured such utter silence. There came no sound from the great pile rising behind me, nor any from the dark jungle beyond the wall. Dimly I could see the huddled forms of Gor Hajus, Xaxa and Sag Or beside me—otherwise I might have been alone in the darkness and immensity of space.

  It seemed an eternity that I waited there before I heard a soft scratching on the panels of the heavy gate. I pushed it open and Dar Tarus and Hovan Du stepped silently within as I closed and relatched it. No one spoke. All had been carefully planned so that there was no need of speech. Dar Tarus and I led the way, Gor Hajus and Hovan Du brought up the rear with the prisoners. We moved directly to the entrance to the tower, found the runway and descended to the pits. Every fortune seemed with us. We met no one, we had no difficulty in finding the vault we sought, and once within we secured the door so that we had no fear of interruption—that was our first concern—and then I hastened to the spot where I had hidden Valla Dia behind the body of a large warrior, tucked far back against the wall in a dark corner. My heart stood still as I dragged aside the body of the warrior, for always had I feared that Ras Thavas, knowing my interest in her and guessing the purpose of my venture, would cause every chamber and pit to be searched and every body to be examined until he found her for whom he sought; but my fears had been baseless, for there lay the body of Xaxa, the old and wrinkled casket of the lovely brain of my beloved, where I had hidden it against this very night. Gently I lifted it out and bore it to one of the two ersite topped tables. Xaxa, standing there bound and gagged, looked on with eyes that shot hate and loathing at me and at that hideous body to which her brain was so soon to be restored.

  As I lifted her to the adjoining slab she tried to wriggle from my grasp and hurl herself to the floor, but I held her and soon had strapped her securely in place. A moment later she was unconscious and the re-transference was well under way. Gor Hajus, Sag Or and Hovan Du were interested spectators, but to Dar Tarus,
who stood ready to assist me, it was an old story, for he had worked in the laboratory and seen more than enough of similar operations. I will not bore you with a description of it—it was but a repetition of what I had done many times in preparation for this very event.

  At last it was completed and my heart fairly stood still as I replaced the embalming fluid with Valla Dia’s own life blood and saw the color mount to her cheeks and her rounded bosom rise and fall to her gentle breathing. Then she opened her eyes and looked up into mine.

  “What has happened, Vad Varo?” she asked. “Has something gone amiss that you have recalled me so soon, or did I not respond to the fluid?”

  Her eyes wandered past me to the faces of the others standing about. “What does it mean?” she asked. “Who are these?”

  I raised her gently in my arms and pointed at the body of Xaxa lying deathlike on the ersite slab beside her. Valla Dia’s eyes went wide. “It is done?” she cried, and clapped her hands to her face and felt of all her features and of the soft, delicate contours of her smooth neck; and yet she could scarce believe it and asked for a glass and I took one from Xaxa’s pocket-pouch and handed it to her. She looked long into it and the tears commenced to roll down her cheeks, and then she looked up at me through the mist of them and put her dear arms about my neck and drew my face down to hers. “My chieftain,” she whispered—that was all. But it was enough. For those two words I had risked my life and faced unknown dangers, and gladly would I risk my life again for that same reward and always, for ever.

  Another night had fallen before I had completed the restoration of Dar Tarus and Hovan Du. Xaxa, and Sag Or and the great ape I left sleeping the deathlike sleep of Ras Thavas’ marvellous anaesthetic. The great ape I had no intention of restoring, but the others I felt bound to return to Phundahl, though Dar Tarus, now resplendent in his own flesh and the gorgeous trappings of Sag Or, urged me not to inflict them again upon the long suffering Phundahlians.