CHAPTER VI

Gods of Mars

by Edgar R. Burroughs

CHAPTER VI, GODS OF MARS by Edgar R. Burroughs
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THE BLACK PIRATES OF BARSOOM


"What is it?" I asked of the girl.

For answer she pointed to the sky.

I looked, and there, above us, I saw shadowy bodies flitting
hither and thither high over temple, court, and garden.

Almost immediately flashes of light broke from these strange
objects. There was a roar of musketry, and then answering
flashes and roars from temple and rampart.

"The black pirates of Barsoom, O Prince," said Thuvia.

In great circles the air craft of the marauders swept lower
and lower toward the defending forces of the therns.

Volley after volley they vomited upon the temple guards;
volley on volley crashed through the thin air toward the
fleeting and illusive fliers.

As the pirates swooped closer toward the ground, thern
soldiery poured from the temples into the gardens and courts.
The sight of them in the open brought a score of fliers
darting toward us from all directions.

The therns fired upon them through shields affixed to their
rifles, but on, steadily on, came the grim, black craft. They
were small fliers for the most part, built for two to three men.
A few larger ones there were, but these kept high aloft dropping
bombs upon the temples from their keel batteries.

At length, with a concerted rush, evidently in response to a
signal of command, the pirates in our immediate vicinity
dashed recklessly to the ground in the very midst of the
thern soldiery.

Scarcely waiting for their craft to touch, the creatures
manning them leaped among the therns with the fury of
demons. Such fighting! Never had I witnessed its like before.
I had thought the green Martians the most ferocious warriors
in the universe, but the awful abandon with which the black
pirates threw themselves upon their foes transcended everything
I ever before had seen.

Beneath the brilliant light of Mars' two glorious moons the
whole scene presented itself in vivid distinctness. The golden-
haired, white-skinned therns battling with desperate courage
in hand-to-hand conflict with their ebony-skinned foemen.

Here a little knot of struggling warriors trampled a bed of
gorgeous pimalia; there the curved sword of a black man
found the heart of a thern and left its dead foeman at the
foot of a wondrous statue carved from a living ruby; yonder
a dozen therns pressed a single pirate back upon a bench of
emerald, upon whose iridescent surface a strangely beautiful
Barsoomian design was traced out in inlaid diamonds.

A little to one side stood Thuvia, the Thark, and I. The tide
of battle had not reached us, but the fighters from time to
time swung close enough that we might distinctly note them.

The black pirates interested me immensely. I had heard
vague rumours, little more than legends they were, during
my former life on Mars; but never had I seen them, nor
talked with one who had.

They were popularly supposed to inhabit the lesser moon,
from which they descended upon Barsoom at long intervals.
Where they visited they wrought the most horrible atrocities,
and when they left carried away with them firearms and
ammunition, and young girls as prisoners. These latter,
the rumour had it, they sacrificed to some terrible god
in an orgy which ended in the eating of their victims.

I had an excellent opportunity to examine them, as the
strife occasionally brought now one and now another close
to where I stood. They were large men, possibly six feet and
over in height. Their features were clear cut and handsome
in the extreme; their eyes were well set and large, though a
slight narrowness lent them a crafty appearance; the iris, as
well as I could determine by moonlight, was of extreme
blackness, while the eyeball itself was quite white and clear.
The physical structure of their bodies seemed identical with
those of the therns, the red men, and my own. Only in the
colour of their skin did they differ materially from us; that
is of the appearance of polished ebony, and odd as it
may seem for a Southerner to say it, adds to rather than
detracts from their marvellous beauty.

But if their bodies are divine, their hearts, apparently,
are quite the reverse. Never did I witness such a malign lust
for blood as these demons of the outer air evinced in their
mad battle with the therns.

All about us in the garden lay their sinister craft, which
the therns for some reason, then unaccountable to me, made
no effort to injure. Now and again a black warrior would
rush from a near by temple bearing a young woman in his arms.
Straight for his flier he would leap while those of his
comrades who fought near by would rush to cover his escape.

The therns on their side would hasten to rescue the girl,
and in an instant the two would be swallowed in the vortex
of a maelstrom of yelling devils, hacking and hewing at
one another, like fiends incarnate.

But always, it seemed, were the black pirates of Barsoom
victorious, and the girl, brought miraculously unharmed
through the conflict, borne away into the outer darkness
upon the deck of a swift flier.

Fighting similar to that which surrounded us could be
heard in both directions as far as sound carried, and Thuvia
told me that the attacks of the black pirates were usually
made simultaneously along the entire ribbon-like domain of
the therns, which circles the Valley Dor on the outer slopes
of the Mountains of Otz.

As the fighting receded from our position for a moment,
Thuvia turned toward me with a question.

"Do you understand now, O Prince," she said, "why a million
warriors guard the domains of the Holy Therns by day and by night?"

"The scene you are witnessing now is but a repetition of
what I have seen enacted a score of times during the fifteen
years I have been a prisoner here. From time immemorial
the black pirates of Barsoom have preyed upon the Holy Therns.

"Yet they never carry their expeditions to a point, as one
might readily believe it was in their power to do, where the
extermination of the race of therns is threatened. It is as
though they but utilized the race as playthings, with which
they satisfy their ferocious lust for fighting; and from whom
they collect toll in arms and ammunition and in prisoners."

"Why don't they jump in and destroy these fliers?" I asked.
"That would soon put a stop to the attacks, or at least the
blacks would scarce be so bold. Why, see how perfectly
unguarded they leave their craft, as though they were
lying safe in their own hangars at home."

"The therns do not dare. They tried it once, ages ago, but
the next night and for a whole moon thereafter a thousand
great black battleships circled the Mountains of Otz, pouring
tons of projectiles upon the temples, the gardens, and the
courts, until every thern who was not killed was driven
for safety into the subterranean galleries.

"The therns know that they live at all only by the sufferance
of the black men. They were near to extermination that once
and they will not venture risking it again."

As she ceased talking a new element was instilled into the
conflict. It came from a source equally unlooked for by
either thern or pirate. The great banths which we had
liberated in the garden had evidently been awed at first
by the sound of the battle, the yelling of the warriors
and the loud report of rifle and bomb.

But now they must have become angered by the continuous
noise and excited by the smell of new blood, for all of
a sudden a great form shot from a clump of low shrubbery
into the midst of a struggling mass of humanity. A horrid
scream of bestial rage broke from the banth as he felt warm
flesh beneath his powerful talons.

As though his cry was but a signal to the others, the
entire great pack hurled themselves among the fighters.
Panic reigned in an instant. Thern and black man turned alike
against the common enemy, for the banths showed no partiality
toward either.

The awful beasts bore down a hundred men by the mere
weight of their great bodies as they hurled themselves into
the thick of the fight. Leaping and clawing, they mowed down
the warriors with their powerful paws, turning for an instant
to rend their victims with frightful fangs.

The scene was fascinating in its terribleness, but suddenly
it came to me that we were wasting valuable time watching this
conflict, which in itself might prove a means of our escape.

The therns were so engaged with their terrible assailants
that now, if ever, escape should be comparatively easy. I
turned to search for an opening through the contending
hordes. If we could but reach the ramparts we might find
that the pirates somewhere had thinned the guarding forces
and left a way open to us to the world without.

As my eyes wandered about the garden, the sight of the
hundreds of air craft lying unguarded around us suggested the
simplest avenue to freedom. Why it had not occurred to me
before! I was thoroughly familiar with the mechanism of
every known make of flier on Barsoom. For nine years I
had sailed and fought with the navy of Helium. I had raced
through space on the tiny one-man air scout and I had
commanded the greatest battleship that ever had floated
in the thin air of dying Mars.

To think, with me, is to act. Grasping Thuvia by the arm,
I whispered to Tars Tarkas to follow me. Quickly we glided
toward a small flier which lay furthest from the battling
warriors. Another instant found us huddled on the tiny
deck. My hand was on the starting lever. I pressed my thumb
upon the button which controls the ray of repulsion, that
splendid discovery of the Martians which permits them to navigate
the thin atmosphere of their planet in huge ships that dwarf the
dreadnoughts of our earthly navies into pitiful significance.

The craft swayed slightly but she did not move. Then a
new cry of warning broke upon our ears. Turning, I saw a
dozen black pirates dashing toward us from the melee. We
had been discovered. With shrieks of rage the demons
sprang for us. With frenzied insistence I continued to press
the little button which should have sent us racing out into
space, but still the vessel refused to budge. Then it came to
me--the reason that she would not rise.

We had stumbled upon a two-man flier. Its ray tanks
were charged only with sufficient repulsive energy to lift
two ordinary men. The Thark's great weight was anchoring
us to our doom.

The blacks were nearly upon us. There was not an instant
to be lost in hesitation or doubt.

I pressed the button far in and locked it. Then I set the
lever at high speed and as the blacks came yelling upon us
I slipped from the craft's deck and with drawn long-sword
met the attack.

At the same moment a girl's shriek rang out behind me
and an instant later, as the blacks fell upon me. I heard
far above my head, and faintly, in Thuvia's voice: "My
Prince, O my Prince; I would rather remain and die with--"
But the rest was lost in the noise of my assailants.

I knew though that my ruse had worked and that temporarily
at least Thuvia and Tars Tarkas were safe, and the means of
escape was theirs.

For a moment it seemed that I could not withstand the
weight of numbers that confronted me, but again, as on so
many other occasions when I had been called upon to face
fearful odds upon this planet of warriors and fierce beasts,
I found that my earthly strength so far transcended that of
my opponents that the odds were not so greatly against me
as they appeared.

My seething blade wove a net of death about me. For an
instant the blacks pressed close to reach me with their shorter
swords, but presently they gave back, and the esteem in which
they suddenly had learned to hold my sword arm was writ
large upon each countenance.

I knew though that it was but a question of minutes
before their greater numbers would wear me down, or get
around my guard. I must go down eventually to certain death
before them. I shuddered at the thought of it, dying thus in
this terrible place where no word of my end ever could
reach my Dejah Thoris. Dying at the hands of nameless
black men in the gardens of the cruel therns.

Then my old-time spirit reasserted itself. The fighting blood
of my Virginian sires coursed hot through my veins. The
fierce blood lust and the joy of battle surged over me. The
fighting smile that has brought consternation to a thousand
foemen touched my lips. I put the thought of death out of
my mind, and fell upon my antagonists with fury that those
who escaped will remember to their dying day.

That others would press to the support of those who faced
me I knew, so even as I fought I kept my wits at work,
searching for an avenue of escape.

It came from an unexpected quarter out of the black night
behind me. I had just disarmed a huge fellow who had
given me a desperate struggle, and for a moment the blacks
stood back for a breathing spell.

They eyed me with malignant fury, yet withal there was
a touch of respect in their demeanour.

"Thern," said one, "you fight like a Dator. But for your
detestable yellow hair and your white skin you would be an
honour to the First Born of Barsoom."

"I am no thern," I said, and was about to explain that I was
from another world, thinking that by patching a truce with
these fellows and fighting with them against the therns I
might enlist their aid in regaining my liberty. But just at that
moment a heavy object smote me a resounding whack between
my shoulders that nearly felled me to the ground.

As I turned to meet this new enemy an object passed over
my shoulder, striking one of my assailants squarely in the
face and knocking him senseless to the sward. At the same
instant I saw that the thing that had struck us was the
trailing anchor of a rather fair-sized air vessel; possibly
a ten man cruiser.

The ship was floating slowly above us, not more than fifty
feet over our heads. Instantly the one chance for escape that
it offered presented itself to me. The vessel was slowly rising
and now the anchor was beyond the blacks who faced me
and several feet above their heads.

With a bound that left them gaping in wide-eyed astonishment
I sprang completely over them. A second leap carried me just
high enough to grasp the now rapidly receding anchor.

But I was successful, and there I hung by one hand, dragging
through the branches of the higher vegetation of the gardens,
while my late foemen shrieked and howled beneath me.

Presently the vessel veered toward the west and then
swung gracefully to the south. In another instant I was
carried beyond the crest of the Golden Cliffs, out over the
Valley Dor, where, six thousand feet below me, the Lost Sea
of Korus lay shimmering in the moonlight.

Carefully I climbed to a sitting posture across the anchor's
arms. I wondered if by chance the vessel might be deserted.
I hoped so. Or possibly it might belong to a friendly people,
and have wandered by accident almost within the clutches
of the pirates and the therns. The fact that it was retreating
from the scene of battle lent colour to this hypothesis.

But I decided to know positively, and at once, so, with the
greatest caution, I commenced to climb slowly up the anchor
chain toward the deck above me.

One hand had just reached for the vessel's rail and found
it when a fierce black face was thrust over the side and
eyes filled with triumphant hate looked into mine.