Masters of the Pit or Barbarians of Mars

  With a sinking heart I realized that we had come to the barbarians' base and I was soon to face their much-admired leader, Rokin the Gold.

  The dahara stopped after a while and heavy hands hauled 302 the straps away from my body and dumped me on the ground. One of the barbarians, perhaps the one I had spoken to earlier, put a skin of tepid water to my lips and I drank thirstily.

  "Food soon," he promised. "After you've been looked over by Rokin."

  He went away and I lay on hard shingle, listening to the nearby sounds of the sea. I was still half in a daze.

  Later I heard voices and there was a thump. I turned my head and saw the great bulk of Hool Haji lying beside me. I noticed his wound and saw that at least the barbarians had had the grace to dress it, though crudely.

  He turned his head and smiled at me grimly.

  "At least we live," he said.

  "But for how long?" I said. "And will it be worth it? We must escape as soon as possible, Hool Haji. You know why!"

  "I know," he said evenly. "Thoughts of escape are well in my mind. But at present we can only bide our time. What of the girl you rescued from Cend-Amrid - where is she?"

  "Safe, as far as I know," I told him. "Or, at least, she was not captured by the barbarians."

  "Good. How did you discover this?"

  I told him the little I had learned.

  "Perhaps she saw something of what happened and went for help," he said, though clearly not convinced.

  "She could not operate the controls unless she had watched me very carefully indeed. I can think of no explanation. I just hope that she will be all right."

  "Have you noticed one thing?" Hool Haji asked then. 'The one real chance we have?"

  "What's that?"

  "The secret skinning knife is still in my harness."

  That was something! All blue Martians carry small knives hidden in their ornate war harness. To someone not used to looking for such things, it seemed part of the general decoration of the harness, but I had had cause to thank those secret knives once before. Unfortunately, I now wore a Southern-style harness that did not contain a knife. Still, one was better than none. If I could reach it with my teeth, I might be able to cut Hool Haji's bonds.

  I was rolling towards him with this intention when suddenly there came a sound from above. I rolled back and looked up.

  Framed against the sky, which was lit only by Phobos, I saw a gigantic figure, clad all. in bright metal. The metal was gold, crudely fashioned into armour, with great, bent rivets plainly visible, holding it all together. It was a splendid picture of barbarian grandiose ostentation, and the man wore it well enough.

  He had a finely combed yellow beard and hair to match, long and flowing and plainly cleaner than that of his fellows. At his hip he wore a huge broadsword, the hilt of which he gripped as he looked down at me, a vast grin spreading across his face.

  "Which are you," he said in a deep, humorous voice, "the Bradhi or the Bradhinak?"

  "Which are you!" I said, though I guessed the obvious.

  "Bradhi, my friend, as you well know if you've talked as much to my men as they say. Bradhi Rokin the Gold, leader of these hounds, the Bagarad. Now - be civil and answer me."

  "I am the Bradhinak Michael Kane of Vamal, City of the Green Mists, most beautiful in the whole of Vashu." I spoke as grandiosely, using the Martian word for their planet.

  He grinned again. "And you - the other one. You must be the Bradhi, then, eh?"

  "Bradhi of a long line," Hool Haji said proudly. "Bradhi of the Mendishar - there is no greater boast."

  "You think not, eh?"

  Hool Haji did not reply. He looked at Rokin with an unwinking stare.

  Rokin did not seem to mind.

  "You killed a lot of my men, I'm told, including my finest lieutenant, Zonom the Render. I thought him unkillable."

  "It was easy," I said. "It was incidental. I did not realize he was one of those I killed until after I had done it."

  Rokin roared with laughter. "What a boaster! Better than a Bagarad!"

  "Some, I've been told," I said. "It is not difficult to believe if they are all like Zonom." He frowned a little, though he still grinned, pointing at me, his golden armour creaking at the joints. "You think so? You'll find there are few to beat the Bagarad."

  "Few what?"

  "Eh? What d'you mean?"

  "Few what? Children?"

  "No! Men, my friend!" His face cleared. Like many primitive people he seemed to appreciate an insult for its own sake, whether levelled at him or not. I knew, however, that there was a point that could be over-stepped and it was not always easy to see it. I did not bother to worry about it.

  "What are you going to do with us now?" I asked him.

  "I'm not sure. They say you seemed concerned about the weapons I've removed from that place we found. What do you know about them?"

  "Nothing," I said.

  "They say you seemed to know a great deal about them.”

  "Then they were wrong."

  *Tell him to give them back," growled Hool Haji. "Tell him what we told his friend - they're fools to meddle with such power!"

  "So you do know something." Rokin mused. "How much?"

  "We only know that to tamper with them will mean death for you all, at the very least. It could mean the destruction of half of Mars!"

  "Do not try to frighten me with such threats," Rokin smiled. "I am no little boy to be told what is bad for me and what is good."

  "In this case," I said urgently, "you are as the smallest child. And these are no toys you are playing with!"

  "I know that, my friend. They are weapons. Weapons that will win me half Mars if I use them well."

  "Forget about them!" I said.

  "Nonsense. Why should I?"

  "For one thing," I told him, "there is a plague in a city some distance from here. One of the machines you have might be capable of checking it. If it is not checked it must soon escape the confines of the city and begin to spread. Do you know what a plague is? A disease?"

  "Well, I've had one or two complaints myself - so have others I know. I was coughing for a couple of days when I lost myself swimming in the ocean when I was a lad. Is that what you mean?"

  "No." I described the symptoms of the green plague that was destroying the folk of Cend-Amrid.

  He looked rather green himself when I had finished. "Arc you sure it's that bad?" he said.

  "It is," I said. "What would you think if something like that swept throughout this continent, eventually spreading to your own?"

  "How can it 'spread'?" he said unbelievingly.

  I tried to explain about germs and microbes, but it meant nothing to him. All I succeeded in doing was weakening my case and leaving him shaking his head.

  "What a liar! What a liar!" he repeated. "Little creatures in our blood! Hoi Hoi Hoi! You must be a Bagarad. You must have been stolen from us as a baby!"

  "Believe what I tell you about the plague or not," I said desperately. "But believe its effects, at least - even Rokin the Gold is not safe from it."

  He tapped his armour. "This is gold - it protects me from anything - man or magic!"

  "You seem to respect us," I said. "Then will you release us?"

  He shook his head. "No." He grinned. "I think we'll find you useful - if only for ransom."

  It was impossible, plainly, to reach the barbarian by appealing to his reason. There was nothing for it but to hope we could make an early escape, after seeing just what machines he had stolen and, if possible, making sure he could never use them. This gave rise to another thought.

  "What if I can help with the machines?" I said. "Would you release us then?"

  "Perhaps," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "If I decided to trust you."

  "I am a scientist," I informed him. "I might throw in my lot with you if you made it worth my while." This line of attack seemed to be getting better results, for he rubbed his jaw and nodded again.

  "I'll thin
k about all this," he said, "and talk to you again in the morning." He turned and began to stride down the beach. "I'll have some food sent to you," he called, as an afterthought.

  The food was brought and it was not bad - honest, plain meat, herbs and vegetables. It was fed to us by two grinning barbarians whose weak jokes we were forced to put up with as we ate.

  When they had gone and the barbarian camp seemed still, I again began to roll towards Hool Haji, intent on getting at the knife in his harness.

  Being tied so firmly, it was hard to tell if anyone could see us or not. I decided to take the chance.

  Inch by inch I got closer to my friend, and at last my teeth were in the pommel of the secret knife.

  Slowly I worked it out of its hiding place until it was firmly clamped in my teeth.

  Hool Haji's hands were tied behind his back, so that now he had to roll over while I tried to saw at his bonds.

  After what seemed an age the first strand parted, then the second. Very soon his hands would be free!

  I was just starting on the last piece of rope securing Hool Haji's hands when there came a gruff laugh from above and I glimpsed gold as the knife was snatched from my teeth.

  "You're game, the pair of you," came Rokin's voice, full of rough laughter. "But you're too valuable to let go. We'd better send you to sleep again."

  Hool Haji and I made a desperate attempt to get to our feet and attack him, but our bonds had checked our circulation.

  A sword-pommel was raised.

  It descended.

  I blacked out.

  Chapter Seven

  VOYAGE TO BAGARAD

  We were at sea when I awoke in the musty-smelling hold of a ship whose sides did not seem to be of wood, as I had expected.

  My bonds had been cut, and apart from slight cramp in my muscles I was feeling much better physically. I was also thinking with greater clarity. The recent experiences with the barbarians seemed to have drained me of much of my original emotion and, while I knew it would return in time, I felt detached and, in some ways, in a healthier state of mind. Perhaps it was the ship. The space is confined, the possibilities limited, and thus one feels more in control of one's environment, particularly in contrast to the seemingly limitless horizons existing on Mars of the age I know.

  Whatever the reasons - and they were probably an amalgam of all those I have suggested and more - I could work out better what I must do. The first objective must be to inspect all the machines Rokin had looted and check if one of them had properties capable of acting against the plague. If one should prove to have this property then I should have to think of ways of getting it away from Rokin and - the thought appalled me, but it was going to be necessary - destroy the rest. If none of the machines could provide me with what I wanted, then I could destroy them all. The latter would be the easier task, of course.

  The ship was rolling and I was forced to brace myself against the sides of the hold. The hull seemed made in one piece, of a kind of durable plastic that I had discovered earlier in the Yaksha stronghold. It was dark, but as my eyes became accustomed to it, I could make out objects that might once have been engine mountings. But there were no engines now. Here again was an artifact left over from what the Martians call the Mightiest War - the war that almost totally eliminated both the Yaksha and the Sheev and virtually destroyed the planet itself.

  I heard a stifled groan from the opposite comer. I thought I recognized the voice.

  "Hool Haji?" I said. "Is it you?"

  “It is I, my friend - or what is left of me. One moment while I make sure I am all in one piece. Where are we?"

  Through the dimness I saw my comrade's huge shape rise from where he had been lying, saw him stagger and fall against a bulwark.

  As best I could, I made my way towards him as the ship pitched about dreadfully. Though little sound permeated the hold, I had the impression that we were in the middle of a particularly unpleasant storm. I had heard that the Western ocean was not thought a healthy place for seafarers, which was probably why it was so infrequently crossed.

  Hool Haji groaned. "Oh, the Mendishar were never meant to travel on the sea, Michael Kane."

  He shifted his position as the ship was struck by another great wave.

  Suddenly light streamed into the hold and sea water rushed in with it, soaking us at once. Framed in the opening above was a bearded barbarian.

  "On deck!" he ordered curtly, his voice just heard above the howl of the storm.

  "In this!" I said. "We're not seamen!"

  "Then this is the time to become seamen, my friend. Rokin wants to see you."

  I shrugged and made my way to the ladder now revealed in the light of the open hatch.

  Hool Haji followed me.

  Together we climbed out on to the slippery deck, clinging to the rope that ran along the centre of the deck, looped between the two large masts, their sails now reefed.

  Spray swirled in the air, water slapped the deck, the ship was tumbled about by the great grey mass of heaving water. Sky and sea were grey and indistinguishable - everything seemed to be moving below us and about us. I had never experienced such a dreadful storm.

  If a Blue Giant can turn green, then Hool Haji's face was green, his eyes showing a kind of agony that seemed to come as much from a deep-rooted disturbance in his soul as much as from the physical discomfort.

  We edged our way towards the bridge of the ship, where Rokin, still in his golden armour, clung to the rail, looking about him as if in wonderment.

  Somehow we managed to join him on the bridge.

  He turned to us, saying something I could not catch in a tone that matched the wonderment in his gaze. I indicated that I had not heard him.

  "Never seen one like this 1" he shouted. "We'll be lucky if we stay up."

  "What did you want to see us for?" I asked.

  "Help! "he shouted.

  "What can we do? We know nothing of ships or seafaring."

  "There are machines in the hold, forward. They're powerful. Couldn't they take the storm?"

  "I doubt it," I yelled back.

  He nodded to himself, then looked into my face. He appeared to accept the truth of what I said.

  "What are our chances? " I asked,

  "Poor!"

  He still seemed to show little fear. He was, perhaps, more incredulous at the intensity of the storm.

  Just then another great wave struck the ship and water came crashing down upon me. Then I felt Rokin's weighted bulk fall on me.

  I heard a cry.

  Then I knew that I had been hurled off the ship and was totally at the mercy of the raging ocean.

  I struggled desperately to stay afloat, keeping mouth and nostrils as closed as possible.

  I was hurtled crazily upon the crests of waves, crashing into valleys with walls of water, until I saw a trailing rope. I did not know if it was attached to anything or not - but I grabbed and caught it. I clung to the rope and felt the comfort of resistance at the other end.

  I do not know for how long I clung to the rope, but whatever it was attached to the other end kept me afloat until the storm slowly abated.

  I opened salt-encrusted eyes in the watery light of an early sunrise.

  I saw a mast floating in the water ahead of me. My rope was fastened to it.

  I hauled myself towards the broken mast, dragging myself wearily through the water. Then, as I neared it, I could see that several others were clinging to the mast.

  When at length I grasped the mast, with a feeling of relief out of all proportion to the safety the mast offered, I saw that one of those who clung there, barely conscious, was Hool Haji, his great head lolling with exhaustion.

  I reached out to touch him, to give him comfort and to let him know I still lived.

  At that moment I heard a distant cry to my left and, looking in that direct, saw that the hull of the ship was miraculously still afloat.

  Sunlight flashed on gold and I knew that Rokin had also surv
ived. Clamping the rope between my teeth, I struck out towards the ship. At length the rope ran out before I had reached the ship but, lucidly, it was drifting in my direction.

  Soon I was being dragged on board and some of the barbarians were hauling in the rope and the mast.

  It was not long before Hool Haji was also being helped aboard and we lay together, utterly weary, on the deck. Rokin, seemingly just as weary, was leaning on a broken rail and looking down on us.

  From somewhere a hot drink was brought to us and we felt recovered enough to sit up and view the ship.

  Virtually everything had been stripped from the deck by the fury of the storm. Only the miraculous hull had survived, relatively undamaged. Both masts had been ripped away, and 311 most of the rails and all the deck furniture, including one of the hatch-covers, had been swept overboard.

  Rokin walked towards us.

  "You were lucky," he said.

  "And you," I replied. "Where are we?"

  "Somewhere on the Western sea. Perhaps, judging by the direction of the storm, closer to our own land than yours. We can only hope that the currents are in our favour and that we shall soon reach land. Most of our provisions were ruined when yonder hold filled." He pointed to the hold that had had its cover ripped off. "The machines are down there, too - also half immersed - but safe enough, I'd guess."

  "They will never be safe - to you," I warned him.

  He grinned. "Nothing can harm Rokin - not even that storm."

  "If I am right about the power of those machines," I told him, "they threaten far more danger than the storm."

  "To Rokin's enemies, perhaps," retaliated the barbarian.

  "To Rokin, too."

  "What harm can they do to me? I have them."

  "I have warned you," I said, shaking my head.

  "What do you warn me about?"

  "Your own ignorance!" I said.

  He shrugged. "One does not have to be so full of knowledge to use such machines."

  "Certainly," I agreed. "But one needs knowledge to understand them. If you do not understand them, then you will fear them soon enough."

  "I do not follow your reasoning, Bradhinak. You are boring me."

  Once again I gave up trying to argue with the barbarian, though I knew that in this case, as in all things, it is not enough' to know that something works. One must also understand how it works before it can be used to advantage, and used without personal danger.