CHAPTER XIV

Gods of Mars

by Edgar R. Burroughs

CHAPTER XIV, GODS OF MARS by Edgar R. Burroughs
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THE EYES IN THE DARK


My son! I could not believe my ears. Slowly I rose and faced
the handsome youth. Now that I looked at him closely I
commenced to see why his face and personality had attracted
me so strongly. There was much of his mother's incomparable
beauty in his clear-cut features, but it was strongly
masculine beauty, and his grey eyes and the expression of
them were mine.

The boy stood facing me, half hope and half uncertainty
in his look.

"Tell me of your mother," I said. "Tell me all you can of
the years that I have been robbed by a relentless fate of her
dear companionship."

With a cry of pleasure he sprang toward me and threw his
arms about my neck, and for a brief moment as I held my
boy close to me the tears welled to my eyes and I was
like to have choked after the manner of some maudlin
fool--but I do not regret it, nor am I ashamed. A long life
has taught me that a man may seem weak where women
and children are concerned and yet be anything but a
weakling in the sterner avenues of life.

"Your stature, your manner, the terrible ferocity of
your swordsmanship," said the boy, "are as my mother has
described them to me a thousand times--but even with such
evidence I could scarce credit the truth of what seemed
so improbable to me, however much I desired it to be true.
Do you know what thing it was that convinced me more than
all the others?"

"What, my boy?" I asked.

"Your first words to me--they were of my mother. None
else but the man who loved her as she has told me my father
did would have thought first of her."

"For long years, my son, I can scarce recall a moment
that the radiant vision of your mother's face has not been
ever before me. Tell me of her."

"Those who have known her longest say that she has not
changed, unless it be to grow more beautiful--were that
possible. Only, when she thinks I am not about to see her,
her face grows very sad, and, oh, so wistful. She thinks ever
of you, my father, and all Helium mourns with her and for
her. Her grandfather's people love her. They loved you also,
and fairly worship your memory as the saviour of Barsoom.

"Each year that brings its anniversary of the day that saw
you racing across a near dead world to unlock the secret of
that awful portal behind which lay the mighty power of life
for countless millions a great festival is held in your honour;
but there are tears mingled with the thanksgiving--tears of
real regret that the author of the happiness is not with them
to share the joy of living he died to give them. Upon all
Barsoom there is no greater name than John Carter."

"And by what name has your mother called you, my boy?"
I asked.

"The people of Helium asked that I be named with my
father's name, but my mother said no, that you and she had
chosen a name for me together, and that your wish must be
honoured before all others, so the name that she called me
is the one that you desired, a combination of hers and
yours--Carthoris."

Xodar had been at the wheel as I talked with my son,
and now he called me.

"She is dropping badly by the head, John Carter," he said.
"So long as we were rising at a stiff angle it was not
noticeable, but now that I am trying to keep a horizontal
course it is different. The wound in her bow has opened
one of her forward ray tanks."

It was true, and after I had examined the damage I found
it a much graver matter than I had anticipated. Not only was
the forced angle at which we were compelled to maintain
the bow in order to keep a horizontal course greatly impeding
our speed, but at the rate that we were losing our repulsive
rays from the forward tanks it was but a question of an hour
or more when we would be floating stern up and helpless.

We had slightly reduced our speed with the dawning of a
sense of security, but now I took the helm once more and
pulled the noble little engine wide open, so that again we
raced north at terrific velocity. In the meantime Carthoris
and Xodar with tools in hand were puttering with the great
rent in the bow in a hopeless endeavour to stem the tide
of escaping rays.

It was still dark when we passed the northern boundary of
the ice cap and the area of clouds. Below us lay a typical
Martian landscape. Rolling ochre sea bottom of long dead
seas, low surrounding hills, with here and there the grim and
silent cities of the dead past; great piles of mighty
architecture tenanted only by age-old memories of a
once powerful race, and by the great white apes of Barsoom.

It was becoming more and more difficult to maintain our
little vessel in a horizontal position. Lower and lower sagged
the bow until it became necessary to stop the engine to prevent
our flight terminating in a swift dive to the ground.

As the sun rose and the light of a new day swept away
the darkness of night our craft gave a final spasmodic plunge,
turned half upon her side, and then with deck tilting
at a sickening angle swung in a slow circle, her bow dropping
further below her stern each moment.

To hand-rail and stanchion we clung, and finally as we
saw the end approaching, snapped the buckles of our harness
to the rings at her sides. In another moment the deck
reared at an angle of ninety degrees and we hung in our
leather with feet dangling a thousand yards above the ground.

I was swinging quite close to the controlling devices, so I
reached out to the lever that directed the rays of repulsion.
The boat responded to the touch, and very gently we began
to sink toward the ground.

It was fully half an hour before we touched. Directly north
of us rose a rather lofty range of hills, toward which we
decided to make our way, since they afforded greater
opportunity for concealment from the pursuers we were
confident might stumble in this direction.

An hour later found us in the time-rounded gullies of the
hills, amid the beautiful flowering plants that abound in the
arid waste places of Barsoom. There we found numbers of
huge milk-giving shrubs--that strange plant which serves in
great part as food and drink for the wild hordes of green men.
It was indeed a boon to us, for we all were nearly famished.

Beneath a cluster of these which afforded perfect concealment
from wandering air scouts, we lay down to sleep--for me the
first time in many hours. This was the beginning of my
fifth day upon Barsoom since I had found myself suddenly
translated from my cottage on the Hudson to Dor, the
valley beautiful, the valley hideous. In all this time I had
slept but twice, though once the clock around within the
storehouse of the therns.

It was mid-afternoon when I was awakened by some one
seizing my hand and covering it with kisses. With a start I
opened my eyes to look into the beautiful face of Thuvia.

"My Prince! My Prince!" she cried, in an ecstasy of happiness.
"'Tis you whom I had mourned as dead. My ancestors
have been good to me; I have not lived in vain."

The girl's voice awoke Xodar and Carthoris. The boy
gazed upon the woman in surprise, but she did not seem to
realize the presence of another than I. She would have
thrown her arms about my neck and smothered me with
caresses, had I not gently but firmly disengaged myself.

"Come, come, Thuvia," I said soothingly; "you are overwrought
by the danger and hardships you have passed through.
You forget yourself, as you forget that I am the husband
of the Princess of Helium."

"I forget nothing, my Prince," she replied. "You have
spoken no word of love to me, nor do I expect that you
ever shall; but nothing can prevent me loving you. I would
not take the place of Dejah Thoris. My greatest ambition is to
serve you, my Prince, for ever as your slave. No greater boon
could I ask, no greater honour could I crave, no greater
happiness could I hope."

As I have before said, I am no ladies' man, and I must admit
that I seldom have felt so uncomfortable and embarrassed
as I did that moment. While I was quite familiar with the
Martian custom which allows female slaves to Martian men,
whose high and chivalrous honour is always ample protection
for every woman in his household, yet I had never myself
chosen other than men as my body servants.

"And I ever return to Helium, Thuvia," I said, "you shall
go with me, but as an honoured equal, and not as a slave.
There you shall find plenty of handsome young nobles who
would face Issus herself to win a smile from you, and we shall
have you married in short order to one of the best of
them. Forget your foolish gratitude-begotten infatuation,
which your innocence has mistaken for love. I like your
friendship better, Thuvia."

"You are my master; it shall be as you say," she replied
simply, but there was a note of sadness in her voice.

"How came you here, Thuvia?" I asked. "And where is Tars Tarkas?"

"The great Thark, I fear, is dead," she replied sadly.
"He was a mighty fighter, but a multitude of green warriors
of another horde than his overwhelmed him. The last that I
saw of him they were bearing him, wounded and bleeding,
to the deserted city from which they had sallied to attack us."

"You are not sure that he is dead, then?" I asked.
"And where is this city of which you speak?"

"It is just beyond this range of hills. The vessel in which
you so nobly resigned a place that we might find escape defied
our small skill in navigation, with the result that we drifted
aimlessly about for two days. Then we decided to abandon
the craft and attempt to make our way on foot to the nearest
waterway. Yesterday we crossed these hills and came upon
the dead city beyond. We had passed within its streets and
were walking toward the central portion, when at an intersecting
avenue we saw a body of green warriors approaching.

"Tars Tarkas was in advance, and they saw him, but me they did
not see. The Thark sprang back to my side and forced me into
an adjacent doorway, where he told me to remain in hiding
until I could escape, making my way to Helium if possible.

"'There will be no escape for me now,' he said,
'for these be the Warhoon of the South. When they
have seen my metal it will be to the death.'

"Then he stepped out to meet them. Ah, my Prince, such
fighting! For an hour they swarmed about him, until the
Warhoon dead formed a hill where he had stood; but at last
they overwhelmed him, those behind pushing the foremost upon
him until there remained no space to swing his great sword.
Then he stumbled and went down and they rolled over him like
a huge wave. When they carried him away toward the heart of
the city, he was dead, I think, for I did not see him move."

"Before we go farther we must be sure," I said. "I cannot
leave Tars Tarkas alive among the Warhoons. To-night I shall
enter the city and make sure."

"And I shall go with you," spoke Carthoris.

"And I," said Xodar.

"Neither one of you shall go," I replied. "It is work that
requires stealth and strategy, not force. One man alone may
succeed where more would invite disaster. I shall go alone.
If I need your help, I will return for you."

They did not like it, but both were good soldiers, and it
had been agreed that I should command. The sun already
was low, so that I did not have long to wait before the
sudden darkness of Barsoom engulfed us.

With a parting word of instructions to Carthoris and Xodar,
in case I should not return, I bade them all farewell and
set forth at a rapid dogtrot toward the city.

As I emerged from the hills the nearer moon was winging
its wild flight through the heavens, its bright beams turning
to burnished silver the barbaric splendour of the ancient
metropolis. The city had been built upon the gently rolling
foothills that in the dim and distant past had sloped down
to meet the sea. It was due to this fact that I had no
difficulty in entering the streets unobserved.

The green hordes that use these deserted cities seldom
occupy more than a few squares about the central plaza,
and as they come and go always across the dead sea bottoms
that the cities face, it is usually a matter of comparative
ease to enter from the hillside.

Once within the streets, I kept close in the dense shadows
of the walls. At intersections I halted a moment to make sure
that none was in sight before I sprang quickly to the shadows
of the opposite side. Thus I made the journey to the vicinity
of the plaza without detection. As I approached the purlieus
of the inhabited portion of the city I was made aware of the
proximity of the warriors' quarters by the squealing and
grunting of the thoats and zitidars corralled within the hollow
courtyards formed by the buildings surrounding each square.

These old familiar sounds that are so distinctive of green
Martian life sent a thrill of pleasure surging through me. It was
as one might feel on coming home after a long absence. It
was amid such sounds that I had first courted the incomparable
Dejah Thoris in the age-old marble halls of the dead city of Korad.

As I stood in the shadows at the far corner of the first
square which housed members of the horde, I saw warriors
emerging from several of the buildings. They all went in
the same direction, toward a great building which stood
in the centre of the plaza. My knowledge of green Martian
customs convinced me that this was either the quarters of the
principal chieftain or contained the audience chamber wherein
the Jeddak met his jeds and lesser chieftains. In either event,
it was evident that something was afoot which might have a
bearing on the recent capture of Tars Tarkas.

To reach this building, which I now felt it imperative that
I do, I must needs traverse the entire length of one square
and cross a broad avenue and a portion of the plaza. From
the noises of the animals which came from every courtyard
about me, I knew that there were many people in the
surrounding buildings--probably several communities of
the great horde of the Warhoons of the South.

To pass undetected among all these people was in itself
a difficult task, but if I was to find and rescue the great
Thark I must expect even more formidable obstacles before
success could be mine. I had entered the city from the south
and now stood on the corner of the avenue through which
I had passed and the first intersecting avenue south of the
plaza. The buildings upon the south side of this square did
not appear to be inhabited, as I could see no lights, and so
I decided to gain the inner courtyard through one of them.

Nothing occurred to interrupt my progress through the
deserted pile I chose, and I came into the inner court close
to the rear walls of the east buildings without detection.
Within the court a great herd of thoats and zitidars moved
restlessly about, cropping the moss-like ochre vegetation which
overgrows practically the entire uncultivated area of Mars.
What breeze there was came from the north-west, so there
was little danger that the beasts would scent me. Had they,
their squealing and grunting would have grown to such a
volume as to attract the attention of the warriors within
the buildings.

Close to the east wall, beneath the overhanging balconies
of the second floors, I crept in dense shadows the full length
of the courtyard, until I came to the buildings at the north
end. These were lighted for about three floors up, but above
the third floor all was dark.

To pass through the lighted rooms was, of course, out of
the question, since they swarmed with green Martian men
and women. My only path lay through the upper floors, and
to gain these it was necessary to scale the face of the wall.
The reaching of the balcony of the second floor was a matter
of easy accomplishment--an agile leap gave my hands a grasp
upon the stone hand-rail above. In another instant I had
drawn myself upon the balcony.

Here through the open windows I saw the green folk squatting
upon their sleeping silks and furs, grunting an occasional
monosyllable, which, in connection with their wondrous telepathic
powers, is ample for their conversational requirements.
As I drew closer to listen to their words a warrior
entered the room from the hall beyond.

"Come, Tan Gama," he cried, "we are to take the Thark before
Kab Kadja. Bring another with you."

The warrior addressed arose and, beckoning to a fellow
squatting near, the three turned and left the apartment.

If I could but follow them the chance might come to free
Tars Tarkas at once. At least I would learn the location
of his prison.

At my right was a door leading from the balcony into the building.
It was at the end of an unlighted hall, and on the impulse of the
moment I stepped within. The hall was broad and led straight
through to the front of the building. On either side were the
doorways of the various apartments which lined it.

I had no more than entered the corridor than I saw the
three warriors at the other end--those whom I had just seen
leaving the apartment. Then a turn to the right took them
from my sight again. Quickly I hastened along the hallway
in pursuit. My gait was reckless, but I felt that Fate had been
kind indeed to throw such an opportunity within my grasp,
and I could not afford to allow it to elude me now.

At the far end of the corridor I found a spiral stairway
leading to the floors above and below. The three had evidently
left the floor by this avenue. That they had gone down and
not up I was sure from my knowledge of these ancient
buildings and the methods of the Warhoons.

I myself had once been a prisoner of the cruel hordes of
northern Warhoon, and the memory of the underground
dungeon in which I lay still is vivid in my memory. And so
I felt certain that Tars Tarkas lay in the dark pits beneath
some nearby building, and that in that direction I should find
the trail of the three warriors leading to his cell.

Nor was I wrong. At the bottom of the runway, or rather
at the landing on the floor below, I saw that the shaft
descended into the pits beneath, and as I glanced down the
flickering light of a torch revealed the presence of the
three I was trailing.

Down they went toward the pits beneath the structure, and
at a safe distance behind I followed the flicker of their torch.
The way led through a maze of tortuous corridors, unlighted
save for the wavering light they carried. We had gone
perhaps a hundred yards when the party turned abruptly
through a doorway at their right. I hastened on as rapidly as
I dared through the darkness until I reached the point at
which they had left the corridor. There, through an open
door, I saw them removing the chains that secured the great
Thark, Tars Tarkas, to the wall.

Hustling him roughly between them, they came immediately
from the chamber, so quickly in fact that I was near to
being apprehended. But I managed to run along the corridor
in the direction I had been going in my pursuit of them
far enough to be without the radius of their meagre light
as they emerged from the cell.

I had naturally assumed that they would return with
Tars Tarkas the same way that they had come, which would
have carried them away from me; but, to my chagrin, they
wheeled directly in my direction as they left the room. There
was nothing for me but to hasten on in advance and keep
out of the light of their torch. I dared not attempt to halt in
the darkness of any of the many intersecting corridors, for
I knew nothing of the direction they might take. Chance was
as likely as not to carry me into the very corridor they might
choose to enter.

The sensation of moving rapidly through these dark passages
was far from reassuring. I knew not at what moment I might
plunge headlong into some terrible pit or meet with some
of the ghoulish creatures that inhabit these lower worlds
beneath the dead cities of dying Mars. There filtered to me
a faint radiance from the torch of the men behind--just
enough to permit me to trace the direction of the winding
passageways directly before me, and so keep me from
dashing myself against the walls at the turns.

Presently I came to a place where five corridors diverged
from a common point. I had hastened along one of them for
some little distance when suddenly the faint light of the torch
disappeared from behind me. I paused to listen for sounds of
the party behind me, but the silence was as utter as the
silence of the tomb.

Quickly I realized that the warriors had taken one of the
other corridors with their prisoner, and so I hastened back with
a feeling of considerable relief to take up a much safer and
more desirable position behind them. It was much slower
work returning, however, than it had been coming, for now
the darkness was as utter as the silence.

It was necessary to feel every foot of the way back with
my hand against the side wall, that I might not pass the spot
where the five roads radiated. After what seemed an eternity to
me, I reached the place and recognized it by groping across
the entrances to the several corridors until I had counted five
of them. In not one, however, showed the faintest sign of light.

I listened intently, but the naked feet of the green men sent
back no guiding echoes, though presently I thought I detected
the clank of side arms in the far distance of the middle corridor.
Up this, then, I hastened, searching for the light, and stopping
to listen occasionally for a repetition of the sound; but soon I
was forced to admit that I must have been following a blind lead,
as only darkness and silence rewarded my efforts.

Again I retraced my steps toward the parting of the ways,
when to my surprise I came upon the entrance to three
diverging corridors, any one of which I might have traversed
in my hasty dash after the false clue I had been following.
Here was a pretty fix, indeed! Once back at the point
where the five passageways met, I might wait with some
assurance for the return of the warriors with Tars Tarkas.
My knowledge of their customs lent colour to the belief that
he was but being escorted to the audience chamber to have
sentence passed upon him. I had not the slightest doubt but
that they would preserve so doughty a warrior as the great
Thark for the rare sport he would furnish at the Great Games.

But unless I could find my way back to that point the
chances were most excellent that I would wander for days
through the awful blackness, until, overcome by thirst and
hunger, I lay down to die, or-- What was that!

A faint shuffling sounded behind me, and as I cast a hasty
glance over my shoulder my blood froze in my veins for the
thing I saw there. It was not so much fear of the present
danger as it was the horrifying memories it recalled of that
time I near went mad over the corpse of the man I had killed
in the dungeons of the Warhoons, when blazing eyes came
out of the dark recesses and dragged the thing that had been
a man from my clutches and I heard it scraping over the stone
of my prison as they bore it away to their terrible feast.

And now in these black pits of the other Warhoons I looked
into those same fiery eyes, blazing at me through the
terrible darkness, revealing no sign of the beast behind them.
I think that the most fearsome attribute of these awesome
creatures is their silence and the fact that one never sees
them--nothing but those baleful eyes glaring unblinkingly out
of the dark void behind.

Grasping my long-sword tightly in my hand, I backed slowly
along the corridor away from the thing that watched me,
but ever as I retreated the eyes advanced, nor was there any
sound, not even the sound of breathing, except the occasional
shuffling sound as of the dragging of a dead limb, that had
first attracted my attention.

On and on I went, but I could not escape my sinister pursuer.
Suddenly I heard the shuffling noise at my right, and,
looking, saw another pair of eyes, evidently approaching from
an intersecting corridor. As I started to renew my slow
retreat I heard the noise repeated behind me, and then before
I could turn I heard it again at my left.

The things were all about me. They had me surrounded
at the intersection of two corridors. Retreat was cut off in
all directions, unless I chose to charge one of the beasts.
Even then I had no doubt but that the others would hurl
themselves upon my back. I could not even guess the size
or nature of the weird creatures. That they were of goodly
proportions I guessed from the fact that the eyes were on a
level with my own.

Why is it that darkness so magnifies our dangers? By day
I would have charged the great banth itself, had I thought
it necessary, but hemmed in by the darkness of these silent
pits I hesitated before a pair of eyes.

Soon I saw that the matter shortly would be taken entirely
from my hands, for the eyes at my right were moving slowly
nearer me, as were those at my left and those behind and
before me. Gradually they were closing in upon me--but
still that awful stealthy silence!

For what seemed hours the eyes approached gradually
closer and closer, until I felt that I should go mad for the
horror of it. I had been constantly turning this way and
that to prevent any sudden rush from behind, until I was
fairly worn out. At length I could endure it no longer, and,
taking a fresh grasp upon my long-sword, I turned suddenly
and charged down upon one of my tormentors.

As I was almost upon it the thing retreated before me,
but a sound from behind caused me to wheel in time to see
three pairs of eyes rushing at me from the rear. With a cry
of rage I turned to meet the cowardly beasts, but as I advanced
they retreated as had their fellow. Another glance over
my shoulder discovered the first eyes sneaking on me again.
And again I charged, only to see the eyes retreat before me
and hear the muffled rush of the three at my back.

Thus we continued, the eyes always a little closer in the
end than they had been before, until I thought that I should
go mad with the terrible strain of the ordeal. That they were
waiting to spring upon my back seemed evident, and that it
would not be long before they succeeded was equally apparent,
for I could not endure the wear of this repeated charge and
countercharge indefinitely. In fact, I could feel myself weakening
from the mental and physical strain I had been undergoing.

At that moment I caught another glimpse from the corner
of my eye of the single pair of eyes at my back making a
sudden rush upon me. I turned to meet the charge; there was
a quick rush of the three from the other direction; but I
determined to pursue the single pair until I should have at
least settled my account with one of the beasts and thus be
relieved of the strain of meeting attacks from both directions.

There was no sound in the corridor, only that of my own
breathing, yet I knew that those three uncanny creatures
were almost upon me. The eyes in front were not retreating
so rapidly now; I was almost within sword reach of them. I
raised my sword arm to deal the blow that should free me,
and then I felt a heavy body upon my back. A cold, moist,
slimy something fastened itself upon my throat. I stumbled
and went down.