CHAPTER XV
SOLA TELLS ME HER STORY
When consciousness returned, and, as I soon learned, I was down but amoment, I sprang quickly to my feet searching for my sword, and there Ifound it, buried to the hilt in the green breast of Zad, who lay stonedead upon the ochre moss of the ancient sea bottom. As I regained myfull senses I found his weapon piercing my left breast, but onlythrough the flesh and muscles which cover my ribs, entering near thecenter of my chest and coming out below the shoulder. As I had lungedI had turned so that his sword merely passed beneath the muscles,inflicting a painful but not dangerous wound.
Removing the blade from my body I also regained my own, and turning myback upon his ugly carcass, I moved, sick, sore, and disgusted, towardthe chariots which bore my retinue and my belongings. A murmur ofMartian applause greeted me, but I cared not for it.
Bleeding and weak I reached my women, who, accustomed to suchhappenings, dressed my wounds, applying the wonderful healing andremedial agents which make only the most instantaneous of death blowsfatal. Give a Martian woman a chance and death must take a back seat.They soon had me patched up so that, except for weakness from loss ofblood and a little soreness around the wound, I suffered no greatdistress from this thrust which, under earthly treatment, undoubtedlywould have put me flat on my back for days.
As soon as they were through with me I hastened to the chariot of DejahThoris, where I found my poor Sola with her chest swathed in bandages,but apparently little the worse for her encounter with Sarkoja, whosedagger it seemed had struck the edge of one of Sola's metal breastornaments and, thus deflected, had inflicted but a slight flesh wound.
As I approached I found Dejah Thoris lying prone upon her silks andfurs, her lithe form wracked with sobs. She did not notice mypresence, nor did she hear me speaking with Sola, who was standing ashort distance from the vehicle.
"Is she injured?" I asked of Sola, indicating Dejah Thoris by aninclination of my head.
"No," she answered, "she thinks that you are dead."
"And that her grandmother's cat may now have no one to polish itsteeth?" I queried, smiling.
"I think you wrong her, John Carter," said Sola. "I do not understandeither her ways or yours, but I am sure the granddaughter of tenthousand jeddaks would never grieve like this over any who held but thehighest claim upon her affections. They are a proud race, but they arejust, as are all Barsoomians, and you must have hurt or wronged hergrievously that she will not admit your existence living, though shemourns you dead.
"Tears are a strange sight upon Barsoom," she continued, "and so it isdifficult for me to interpret them. I have seen but two people weep inall my life, other than Dejah Thoris; one wept from sorrow, the otherfrom baffled rage. The first was my mother, years ago before theykilled her; the other was Sarkoja, when they dragged her from me today."
"Your mother!" I exclaimed, "but, Sola, you could not have known yourmother, child."
"But I did. And my father also," she added. "If you would like tohear the strange and un-Barsoomian story come to the chariot tonight,John Carter, and I will tell you that of which I have never spoken inall my life before. And now the signal has been given to resume themarch, you must go."
"I will come tonight, Sola," I promised. "Be sure to tell Dejah ThorisI am alive and well. I shall not force myself upon her, and be surethat you do not let her know I saw her tears. If she would speak withme I but await her command."
Sola mounted the chariot, which was swinging into its place in line,and I hastened to my waiting thoat and galloped to my station besideTars Tarkas at the rear of the column.
We made a most imposing and awe-inspiring spectacle as we strung outacross the yellow landscape; the two hundred and fifty ornate andbrightly colored chariots, preceded by an advance guard of some twohundred mounted warriors and chieftains riding five abreast and onehundred yards apart, and followed by a like number in the sameformation, with a score or more of flankers on either side; the fiftyextra mastodons, or heavy draught animals, known as zitidars, and thefive or six hundred extra thoats of the warriors running loose withinthe hollow square formed by the surrounding warriors. The gleamingmetal and jewels of the gorgeous ornaments of the men and women,duplicated in the trappings of the zitidars and thoats, andinterspersed with the flashing colors of magnificent silks and furs andfeathers, lent a barbaric splendor to the caravan which would haveturned an East Indian potentate green with envy.
The enormous broad tires of the chariots and the padded feet of theanimals brought forth no sound from the moss-covered sea bottom; and sowe moved in utter silence, like some huge phantasmagoria, except whenthe stillness was broken by the guttural growling of a goaded zitidar,or the squealing of fighting thoats. The green Martians converse butlittle, and then usually in monosyllables, low and like the faintrumbling of distant thunder.
We traversed a trackless waste of moss which, bending to the pressureof broad tire or padded foot, rose up again behind us, leaving no signthat we had passed. We might indeed have been the wraiths of thedeparted dead upon the dead sea of that dying planet for all the soundor sign we made in passing. It was the first march of a large body ofmen and animals I had ever witnessed which raised no dust and left nospoor; for there is no dust upon Mars except in the cultivateddistricts during the winter months, and even then the absence of highwinds renders it almost unnoticeable.
We camped that night at the foot of the hills we had been approachingfor two days and which marked the southern boundary of this particularsea. Our animals had been two days without drink, nor had they hadwater for nearly two months, not since shortly after leaving Thark;but, as Tars Tarkas explained to me, they require but little and canlive almost indefinitely upon the moss which covers Barsoom, and which,he told me, holds in its tiny stems sufficient moisture to meet thelimited demands of the animals.
After partaking of my evening meal of cheese-like food and vegetablemilk I sought out Sola, whom I found working by the light of a torchupon some of Tars Tarkas' trappings. She looked up at my approach, herface lighting with pleasure and with welcome.
"I am glad you came," she said; "Dejah Thoris sleeps and I am lonely.Mine own people do not care for me, John Carter; I am too unlike them.It is a sad fate, since I must live my life amongst them, and I oftenwish that I were a true green Martian woman, without love and withouthope; but I have known love and so I am lost.
"I promised to tell you my story, or rather the story of my parents.From what I have learned of you and the ways of your people I am surethat the tale will not seem strange to you, but among green Martians ithas no parallel within the memory of the oldest living Thark, nor doour legends hold many similar tales.
"My mother was rather small, in fact too small to be allowed theresponsibilities of maternity, as our chieftains breed principally forsize. She was also less cold and cruel than most green Martian women,and caring little for their society, she often roamed the desertedavenues of Thark alone, or went and sat among the wild flowers thatdeck the nearby hills, thinking thoughts and wishing wishes which Ibelieve I alone among Tharkian women today may understand, for am I notthe child of my mother?
"And there among the hills she met a young warrior, whose duty it wasto guard the feeding zitidars and thoats and see that they roamed notbeyond the hills. They spoke at first only of such things as interesta community of Tharks, but gradually, as they came to meet more often,and, as was now quite evident to both, no longer by chance, they talkedabout themselves, their likes, their ambitions and their hopes. Shetrusted him and told him of the awful repugnance she felt for thecruelties of their kind, for the hideous, loveless lives they must everlead, and then she waited for the storm of denunciation to break fromhis cold, hard lips; but instead he took her in his arms and kissed her.
"They kept their love a secret for six long years. She, my mother, wasof the retinue of the great Tal Hajus, while her lover was a simplewarrior, wearing only his own metal. Had their defection from
thetraditions of the Tharks been discovered both would have paid thepenalty in the great arena before Tal Hajus and the assembled hordes.
"The egg from which I came was hidden beneath a great glass vessel uponthe highest and most inaccessible of the partially ruined towers ofancient Thark. Once each year my mother visited it for the five longyears it lay there in the process of incubation. She dared not comeoftener, for in the mighty guilt of her conscience she feared that herevery move was watched. During this period my father gained greatdistinction as a warrior and had taken the metal from severalchieftains. His love for my mother had never diminished, and his ownambition in life was to reach a point where he might wrest the metalfrom Tal Hajus himself, and thus, as ruler of the Tharks, be free toclaim her as his own, as well as, by the might of his power, protectthe child which otherwise would be quickly dispatched should the truthbecome known.
"It was a wild dream, that of wresting the metal from Tal Hajus in fiveshort years, but his advance was rapid, and he soon stood high in thecouncils of Thark. But one day the chance was lost forever, in so faras it could come in time to save his loved ones, for he was orderedaway upon a long expedition to the ice-clad south, to make war upon thenatives there and despoil them of their furs, for such is the manner ofthe green Barsoomian; he does not labor for what he can wrest in battlefrom others.
"He was gone for four years, and when he returned all had been over forthree; for about a year after his departure, and shortly before thetime for the return of an expedition which had gone forth to fetch thefruits of a community incubator, the egg had hatched. Thereafter mymother continued to keep me in the old tower, visiting me nightly andlavishing upon me the love the community life would have robbed us bothof. She hoped, upon the return of the expedition from the incubator,to mix me with the other young assigned to the quarters of Tal Hajus,and thus escape the fate which would surely follow discovery of her sinagainst the ancient traditions of the green men.
"She taught me rapidly the language and customs of my kind, and onenight she told me the story I have told to you up to this point,impressing upon me the necessity for absolute secrecy and the greatcaution I must exercise after she had placed me with the other youngTharks to permit no one to guess that I was further advanced ineducation than they, nor by any sign to divulge in the presence ofothers my affection for her, or my knowledge of my parentage; and thendrawing me close to her she whispered in my ear the name of my father.
"And then a light flashed out upon the darkness of the tower chamber,and there stood Sarkoja, her gleaming, baleful eyes fixed in a frenzyof loathing and contempt upon my mother. The torrent of hatred andabuse she poured out upon her turned my young heart cold in terror.That she had heard the entire story was apparent, and that she hadsuspected something wrong from my mother's long nightly absences fromher quarters accounted for her presence there on that fateful night.
"One thing she had not heard, nor did she know, the whispered name ofmy father. This was apparent from her repeated demands upon my motherto disclose the name of her partner in sin, but no amount of abuse orthreats could wring this from her, and to save me from needless tortureshe lied, for she told Sarkoja that she alone knew nor would she evertell her child.
"With final imprecations, Sarkoja hastened away to Tal Hajus to reporther discovery, and while she was gone my mother, wrapping me in thesilks and furs of her night coverings, so that I was scarcelynoticeable, descended to the streets and ran wildly away toward theoutskirts of the city, in the direction which led to the far south, outtoward the man whose protection she might not claim, but on whose faceshe wished to look once more before she died.
"As we neared the city's southern extremity a sound came to us fromacross the mossy flat, from the direction of the only pass through thehills which led to the gates, the pass by which caravans from eithernorth or south or east or west would enter the city. The sounds weheard were the squealing of thoats and the grumbling of zitidars, withthe occasional clank of arms which announced the approach of a body ofwarriors. The thought uppermost in her mind was that it was my fatherreturned from his expedition, but the cunning of the Thark held herfrom headlong and precipitate flight to greet him.
"Retreating into the shadows of a doorway she awaited the coming of thecavalcade which shortly entered the avenue, breaking its formation andthronging the thoroughfare from wall to wall. As the head of theprocession passed us the lesser moon swung clear of the overhangingroofs and lit up the scene with all the brilliancy of her wondrouslight. My mother shrank further back into the friendly shadows, andfrom her hiding place saw that the expedition was not that of myfather, but the returning caravan bearing the young Tharks. Instantlyher plan was formed, and as a great chariot swung close to our hidingplace she slipped stealthily in upon the trailing tailboard, crouchinglow in the shadow of the high side, straining me to her bosom in afrenzy of love.
"She knew, what I did not, that never again after that night would shehold me to her breast, nor was it likely we would ever look upon eachother's face again. In the confusion of the plaza she mixed me withthe other children, whose guardians during the journey were now free torelinquish their responsibility. We were herded together into a greatroom, fed by women who had not accompanied the expedition, and the nextday we were parceled out among the retinues of the chieftains.
"I never saw my mother after that night. She was imprisoned by TalHajus, and every effort, including the most horrible and shamefultorture, was brought to bear upon her to wring from her lips the nameof my father; but she remained steadfast and loyal, dying at lastamidst the laughter of Tal Hajus and his chieftains during some awfultorture she was undergoing.
"I learned afterwards that she told them that she had killed me to saveme from a like fate at their hands, and that she had thrown my body tothe white apes. Sarkoja alone disbelieved her, and I feel to this daythat she suspects my true origin, but does not dare expose me, at thepresent, at all events, because she also guesses, I am sure, theidentity of my father.
"When he returned from his expedition and learned the story of mymother's fate I was present as Tal Hajus told him; but never by thequiver of a muscle did he betray the slightest emotion; only he did notlaugh as Tal Hajus gleefully described her death struggles. From thatmoment on he was the cruelest of the cruel, and I am awaiting the daywhen he shall win the goal of his ambition, and feel the carcass of TalHajus beneath his foot, for I am as sure that he but waits theopportunity to wreak a terrible vengeance, and that his great love isas strong in his breast as when it first transfigured him nearly fortyyears ago, as I am that we sit here upon the edge of a world-old oceanwhile sensible people sleep, John Carter."
"And your father, Sola, is he with us now?" I asked.
"Yes," she replied, "but he does not know me for what I am, nor does heknow who betrayed my mother to Tal Hajus. I alone know my father'sname, and only I and Tal Hajus and Sarkoja know that it was she whocarried the tale that brought death and torture upon her he loved."
We sat silent for a few moments, she wrapped in the gloomy thoughts ofher terrible past, and I in pity for the poor creatures whom theheartless, senseless customs of their race had doomed to loveless livesof cruelty and of hate. Presently she spoke.
"John Carter, if ever a real man walked the cold, dead bosom of Barsoomyou are one. I know that I can trust you, and because the knowledgemay someday help you or him or Dejah Thoris or myself, I am going totell you the name of my father, nor place any restrictions orconditions upon your tongue. When the time comes, speak the truth ifit seems best to you. I trust you because I know that you are notcursed with the terrible trait of absolute and unswerving truthfulness,that you could lie like one of your own Virginia gentlemen if a liewould save others from sorrow or suffering. My father's name is TarsTarkas."