Page 13 of The Gods of Mars


  CHAPTER XI

  WHEN HELL BROKE LOOSE

  Early the next morning Xodar and I commenced work upon our plans forescape. First I had him sketch upon the stone floor of our cell asaccurate a map of the south polar regions as was possible with thecrude instruments at our disposal--a buckle from my harness, and thesharp edge of the wondrous gem I had taken from Sator Throg.

  From this I computed the general direction of Helium and the distanceat which it lay from the opening which led to Omean.

  Then I had him draw a map of Omean, indicating plainly the position ofShador and of the opening in the dome which led to the outer world.

  These I studied until they were indelibly imprinted in my memory. FromXodar I learned the duties and customs of the guards who patrolledShador. It seemed that during the hours set aside for sleep only oneman was on duty at a time. He paced a beat that passed around theprison, at a distance of about a hundred feet from the building.

  The pace of the sentries, Xodar said, was very slow, requiring nearlyten minutes to make a single round. This meant that for practicallyfive minutes at a time each side of the prison was unguarded as thesentry pursued his snail-like pace upon the opposite side.

  "This information you ask," said Xodar, "will be all very valuableAFTER we get out, but nothing that you have asked has any bearing onthat first and most important consideration."

  "We will get out all right," I replied, laughing. "Leave that to me."

  "When shall we make the attempt?" he asked.

  "The first night that finds a small craft moored near the shore ofShador," I replied.

  "But how will you know that any craft is moored near Shador? Thewindows are far beyond our reach."

  "Not so, friend Xodar; look!"

  With a bound I sprang to the bars of the window opposite us, and took aquick survey of the scene without.

  Several small craft and two large battleships lay within a hundredyards of Shador.

  "To-night," I thought, and was just about to voice my decision toXodar, when, without warning, the door of our prison opened and a guardstepped in.

  If the fellow saw me there our chances of escape might quickly goglimmering, for I knew that they would put me in irons if they had theslightest conception of the wonderful agility which my earthly musclesgave me upon Mars.

  The man had entered and was standing facing the centre of the room, sothat his back was toward me. Five feet above me was the top of apartition wall separating our cell from the next.

  There was my only chance to escape detection. If the fellow turned, Iwas lost; nor could I have dropped to the floor undetected, since hewas so nearly below me that I would have struck him had I done so.

  "Where is the white man?" cried the guard of Xodar. "Issus commandshis presence." He started to turn to see if I were in another part ofthe cell.

  I scrambled up the iron grating of the window until I could catch agood footing on the sill with one foot; then I let go my hold andsprang for the partition top.

  "What was that?" I heard the deep voice of the black bellow as my metalgrated against the stone wall as I slipped over. Then I droppedlightly to the floor of the cell beyond.

  "Where is the white slave?" again cried the guard.

  "I know not," replied Xodar. "He was here even as you entered. I amnot his keeper--go find him."

  The black grumbled something that I could not understand, and then Iheard him unlocking the door into one of the other cells on the furtherside. Listening intently, I caught the sound as the door closed behindhim. Then I sprang once more to the top of the partition and droppedinto my own cell beside the astonished Xodar.

  "Do you see now how we will escape?" I asked him in a whisper.

  "I see how you may," he replied, "but I am no wiser than before as tohow I am to pass these walls. Certain it is that I cannot bounce overthem as you do."

  We heard the guard moving about from cell to cell, and finally, hisrounds completed, he again entered ours. When his eyes fell upon methey fairly bulged from his head.

  "By the shell of my first ancestor!" he roared. "Where have you been?"

  "I have been in prison since you put me here yesterday," I answered."I was in this room when you entered. You had better look to youreyesight."

  He glared at me in mingled rage and relief.

  "Come," he said. "Issus commands your presence."

  He conducted me outside the prison, leaving Xodar behind. There wefound several other guards, and with them the red Martian youth whooccupied another cell upon Shador.

  The journey I had taken to the Temple of Issus on the preceding day wasrepeated. The guards kept the red boy and myself separated, so that wehad no opportunity to continue the conversation that had beeninterrupted the previous night.

  The youth's face had haunted me. Where had I seen him before. Therewas something strangely familiar in every line of him; in his carriage,his manner of speaking, his gestures. I could have sworn that I knewhim, and yet I knew too that I had never seen him before.

  When we reached the gardens of Issus we were led away from the templeinstead of toward it. The way wound through enchanted parks to amighty wall that towered a hundred feet in air.

  Massive gates gave egress upon a small plain, surrounded by the samegorgeous forests that I had seen at the foot of the Golden Cliffs.

  Crowds of blacks were strolling in the same direction that our guardswere leading us, and with them mingled my old friends the plant men andgreat white apes.

  The brutal beasts moved among the crowd as pet dogs might. If theywere in the way the blacks pushed them roughly to one side, or whackedthem with the flat of a sword, and the animals slunk away as in greatfear.

  Presently we came upon our destination, a great amphitheatre situatedat the further edge of the plain, and about half a mile beyond thegarden walls.

  Through a massive arched gateway the blacks poured in to take theirseats, while our guards led us to a smaller entrance near one end ofthe structure.

  Through this we passed into an enclosure beneath the seats, where wefound a number of other prisoners herded together under guard. Some ofthem were in irons, but for the most part they seemed sufficiently awedby the presence of their guards to preclude any possibility ofattempted escape.

  During the trip from Shador I had had no opportunity to talk with myfellow-prisoner, but now that we were safely within the barred paddockour guards abated their watchfulness, with the result that I foundmyself able to approach the red Martian youth for whom I felt such astrange attraction.

  "What is the object of this assembly?" I asked him. "Are we to fightfor the edification of the First Born, or is it something worse thanthat?"

  "It is a part of the monthly rites of Issus," he replied, "in whichblack men wash the sins from their souls in the blood of men from theouter world. If, perchance, the black is killed, it is evidence of hisdisloyalty to Issus--the unpardonable sin. If he lives through thecontest he is held acquitted of the charge that forced the sentence ofthe rites, as it is called, upon him.

  "The forms of combat vary. A number of us may be pitted togetheragainst an equal number, or twice the number of blacks; or singly wemay be sent forth to face wild beasts, or some famous black warrior."

  "And if we are victorious," I asked, "what then--freedom?"

  He laughed.

  "Freedom, forsooth. The only freedom for us death. None who entersthe domains of the First Born ever leave. If we prove able fighters weare permitted to fight often. If we are not mighty fighters--" Heshrugged his shoulders. "Sooner or later we die in the arena."

  "And you have fought often?" I asked.

  "Very often," he replied. "It is my only pleasure. Some hundred blackdevils have I accounted for during nearly a year of the rites of Issus.My mother would be very proud could she only know how well I havemaintained the traditions of my father's prowess."

  "Your father must have been a mighty warrior!" I said. "I ha
ve knownmost of the warriors of Barsoom in my time; doubtless I knew him. Whowas he?"

  "My father was--"

  "Come, calots!" cried the rough voice of a guard. "To the slaughterwith you," and roughly we were hustled to the steep incline that led tothe chambers far below which let out upon the arena.

  The amphitheatre, like all I had ever seen upon Barsoom, was built in alarge excavation. Only the highest seats, which formed the low wallsurrounding the pit, were above the level of the ground. The arenaitself was far below the surface.

  Just beneath the lowest tier of seats was a series of barred cages on alevel with the surface of the arena. Into these we were herded. But,unfortunately, my youthful friend was not of those who occupied a cagewith me.

  Directly opposite my cage was the throne of Issus. Here the horridcreature squatted, surrounded by a hundred slave maidens sparkling injewelled trappings. Brilliant cloths of many hues and strange patternsformed the soft cushion covering of the dais upon which they reclinedabout her.

  On four sides of the throne and several feet below it stood three solidranks of heavily armed soldiery, elbow to elbow. In front of thesewere the high dignitaries of this mock heaven--gleaming blacks bedeckedwith precious stones, upon their foreheads the insignia of their rankset in circles of gold.

  On both sides of the throne stretched a solid mass of humanity from topto bottom of the amphitheatre. There were as many women as men, andeach was clothed in the wondrously wrought harness of his station andhis house. With each black was from one to three slaves, drawn fromthe domains of the therns and from the outer world. The blacks are all"noble." There is no peasantry among the First Born. Even the lowestsoldier is a god, and has his slaves to wait upon him.

  The First Born do no work. The men fight--that is a sacred privilegeand duty; to fight and die for Issus. The women do nothing, absolutelynothing. Slaves wash them, slaves dress them, slaves feed them. Thereare some, even, who have slaves that talk for them, and I saw one whosat during the rites with closed eyes while a slave narrated to her theevents that were transpiring within the arena.

  The first event of the day was the Tribute to Issus. It marked the endof those poor unfortunates who had looked upon the divine glory of thegoddess a full year before. There were ten of them--splendid beautiesfrom the proud courts of mighty Jeddaks and from the temples of theHoly Therns. For a year they had served in the retinue of Issus;to-day they were to pay the price of this divine preferment with theirlives; tomorrow they would grace the tables of the court functionaries.

  A huge black entered the arena with the young women. Carefully heinspected them, felt of their limbs and poked them in the ribs.Presently he selected one of their number whom he led before the throneof Issus. He addressed some words to the goddess which I could nothear. Issus nodded her head. The black raised his hands above hishead in token of salute, grasped the girl by the wrist, and dragged herfrom the arena through a small doorway below the throne.

  "Issus will dine well to-night," said a prisoner beside me.

  "What do you mean?" I asked.

  "That was her dinner that old Thabis is taking to the kitchens. Didstnot note how carefully he selected the plumpest and tenderest of thelot?"

  I growled out my curses on the monster sitting opposite us on thegorgeous throne.

  "Fume not," admonished my companion; "you will see far worse than thatif you live even a month among the First Born."

  I turned again in time to see the gate of a nearby cage thrown open andthree monstrous white apes spring into the arena. The girls shrank ina frightened group in the centre of the enclosure.

  One was on her knees with imploring hands outstretched toward Issus;but the hideous deity only leaned further forward in keeneranticipation of the entertainment to come. At length the apes spiedthe huddled knot of terror-stricken maidens and with demoniacal shrieksof bestial frenzy, charged upon them.

  A wave of mad fury surged over me. The cruel cowardliness of thepower-drunk creature whose malignant mind conceived such frightfulforms of torture stirred to their uttermost depths my resentment and mymanhood. The blood-red haze that presaged death to my foes swam beforemy eyes.

  The guard lolled before the unbarred gate of the cage which confinedme. What need of bars, indeed, to keep those poor victims from rushinginto the arena which the edict of the gods had appointed as their deathplace!

  A single blow sent the black unconscious to the ground. Snatching uphis long-sword, I sprang into the arena. The apes were almost upon themaidens, but a couple of mighty bounds were all my earthly musclesrequired to carry me to the centre of the sand-strewn floor.

  For an instant silence reigned in the great amphitheatre, then a wildshout arose from the cages of the doomed. My long-sword circledwhirring through the air, and a great ape sprawled, headless, at thefeet of the fainting girls.

  The other apes turned now upon me, and as I stood facing them a sullenroar from the audience answered the wild cheers from the cages. Fromthe tail of my eye I saw a score of guards rushing across theglistening sand toward me. Then a figure broke from one of the cagesbehind them. It was the youth whose personality so fascinated me.

  He paused a moment before the cages, with upraised sword.

  "Come, men of the outer world!" he shouted. "Let us make our deathsworth while, and at the back of this unknown warrior turn this day'sTribute to Issus into an orgy of revenge that will echo through theages and cause black skins to blanch at each repetition of the rites ofIssus. Come! The racks without your cages are filled with blades."

  Without waiting to note the outcome of his plea, he turned and boundedtoward me. From every cage that harboured red men a thunderous shoutwent up in answer to his exhortation. The inner guards went downbeneath howling mobs, and the cages vomited forth their inmates hotwith the lust to kill.

  The racks that stood without were stripped of the swords with which theprisoners were to have been armed to enter their allotted combats, anda swarm of determined warriors sped to our support.

  The great apes, towering in all their fifteen feet of height, had gonedown before my sword while the charging guards were still some distanceaway. Close behind them pursued the youth. At my back were the younggirls, and as it was in their service that I fought, I remainedstanding there to meet my inevitable death, but with the determinationto give such an account of myself as would long be remembered in theland of the First Born.

  I noted the marvellous speed of the young red man as he raced after theguards. Never had I seen such speed in any Martian. His leaps andbounds were little short of those which my earthly muscles had producedto create such awe and respect on the part of the green Martians intowhose hands I had fallen on that long-gone day that had seen my firstadvent upon Mars.

  The guards had not reached me when he fell upon them from the rear, andas they turned, thinking from the fierceness of his onslaught that adozen were attacking them, I rushed them from my side.

  In the rapid fighting that followed I had little chance to note aughtelse than the movements of my immediate adversaries, but now and againI caught a fleeting glimpse of a purring sword and a lightly springingfigure of sinewy steel that filled my heart with a strange yearning anda mighty but unaccountable pride.

  On the handsome face of the boy a grim smile played, and ever and anonhe threw a taunting challenge to the foes that faced him. In this andother ways his manner of fighting was similar to that which had alwaysmarked me on the field of combat.

  Perhaps it was this vague likeness which made me love the boy, whilethe awful havoc that his sword played amongst the blacks filled my soulwith a tremendous respect for him.

  For my part, I was fighting as I had fought a thousand timesbefore--now sidestepping a wicked thrust, now stepping quickly in tolet my sword's point drink deep in a foeman's heart, before it burieditself in the throat of his companion.

  We were having a merry time of it, we two, when a great body of Issus'own guards
were ordered into the arena. On they came with fiercecries, while from every side the armed prisoners swarmed upon them.

  For half an hour it was as though all hell had broken loose. In thewalled confines of the arena we fought in an inextricablemass--howling, cursing, blood-streaked demons; and ever the sword ofthe young red man flashed beside me.

  Slowly and by repeated commands I had succeeded in drawing theprisoners into a rough formation about us, so that at last we foughtformed into a rude circle in the centre of which were the doomed maids.

  Many had gone down on both sides, but by far the greater havoc had beenwrought in the ranks of the guards of Issus. I could see messengersrunning swiftly through the audience, and as they passed the noblesthere unsheathed their swords and sprang into the arena. They weregoing to annihilate us by force of numbers--that was quite evidentlytheir plan.

  I caught a glimpse of Issus leaning far forward upon her throne, herhideous countenance distorted in a horrid grimace of hate and rage, inwhich I thought I could distinguish an expression of fear. It was thatface that inspired me to the thing that followed.

  Quickly I ordered fifty of the prisoners to drop back behind us andform a new circle about the maidens.

  "Remain and protect them until I return," I commanded.

  Then, turning to those who formed the outer line, I cried, "Down withIssus! Follow me to the throne; we will reap vengeance where vengeanceis deserved."

  The youth at my side was the first to take up the cry of "Down withIssus!" and then at my back and from all sides rose a hoarse shout, "Tothe throne! To the throne!"

  As one man we moved, an irresistible fighting mass, over the bodies ofdead and dying foes toward the gorgeous throne of the Martian deity.Hordes of the doughtiest fighting-men of the First Born poured from theaudience to check our progress. We mowed them down before us as theyhad been paper men.

  "To the seats, some of you!" I cried as we approached the arena'sbarrier wall. "Ten of us can take the throne," for I had seen thatIssus' guards had for the most part entered the fray within the arena.

  On both sides of me the prisoners broke to left and right for theseats, vaulting the low wall with dripping swords lusting for thecrowded victims who awaited them.

  In another moment the entire amphitheatre was filled with the shrieksof the dying and the wounded, mingled with the clash of arms andtriumphant shouts of the victors.

  Side by side the young red man and I, with perhaps a dozen others,fought our way to the foot of the throne. The remaining guards,reinforced by the high dignitaries and nobles of the First Born, closedin between us and Issus, who sat leaning far forward upon her carvedsorapus bench, now screaming high-pitched commands to her following,now hurling blighting curses upon those who sought to desecrate hergodhood.

  The frightened slaves about her trembled in wide-eyed expectancy,knowing not whether to pray for our victory or our defeat. Severalamong them, proud daughters no doubt of some of Barsoom's noblestwarriors, snatched swords from the hands of the fallen and fell uponthe guards of Issus, but they were soon cut down; glorious martyrs to ahopeless cause.

  The men with us fought well, but never since Tars Tarkas and I foughtout that long, hot afternoon shoulder to shoulder against the hordes ofWarhoon in the dead sea bottom before Thark, had I seen two men fightto such good purpose and with such unconquerable ferocity as the youngred man and I fought that day before the throne of Issus, Goddess ofDeath, and of Life Eternal.

  Man by man those who stood between us and the carven sorapus wood benchwent down before our blades. Others swarmed in to fill the breach, butinch by inch, foot by foot we won nearer and nearer to our goal.

  Presently a cry went up from a section of the stands near by--"Riseslaves!" "Rise slaves!" it rose and fell until it swelled to a mightyvolume of sound that swept in great billows around the entireamphitheatre.

  For an instant, as though by common assent, we ceased our fighting tolook for the meaning of this new note nor did it take but a moment totranslate its significance. In all parts of the structure the femaleslaves were falling upon their masters with whatever weapon came firstto hand. A dagger snatched from the harness of her mistress was wavedaloft by some fair slave, its shimmering blade crimson with thelifeblood of its owner; swords plucked from the bodies of the deadabout them; heavy ornaments which could be turned into bludgeons--suchwere the implements with which these fair women wreaked the long-pentvengeance which at best could but partially recompense them for theunspeakable cruelties and indignities which their black masters hadheaped upon them. And those who could find no other weapons used theirstrong fingers and their gleaming teeth.

  It was at once a sight to make one shudder and to cheer; but in a briefsecond we were engaged once more in our own battle with only theunquenchable battle cry of the women to remind us that they stillfought--"Rise slaves!" "Rise slaves!"

  Only a single thin rank of men now stood between us and Issus. Herface was blue with terror. Foam flecked her lips. She seemed tooparalysed with fear to move. Only the youth and I fought now. Theothers all had fallen, and I was like to have gone down too from anasty long-sword cut had not a hand reached out from behind myadversary and clutched his elbow as the blade was falling upon me. Theyouth sprang to my side and ran his sword through the fellow before hecould recover to deliver another blow.

  I should have died even then but for that as my sword was tight wedgedin the breastbone of a Dator of the First Born. As the fellow wentdown I snatched his sword from him and over his prostrate body lookedinto the eyes of the one whose quick hand had saved me from the firstcut of his sword--it was Phaidor, daughter of Matai Shang.

  "Fly, my Prince!" she cried. "It is useless to fight them longer. Allwithin the arena are dead. All who charged the throne are dead but youand this youth. Only among the seats are there left any of yourfighting-men, and they and the slave women are fast being cut down.Listen! You can scarce hear the battle-cry of the women now for nearlyall are dead. For each one of you there are ten thousand blacks withinthe domains of the First Born. Break for the open and the sea ofKorus. With your mighty sword arm you may yet win to the Golden Cliffsand the templed gardens of the Holy Therns. There tell your story toMatai Shang, my father. He will keep you, and together you may find away to rescue me. Fly while there is yet a bare chance for flight."

  But that was not my mission, nor could I see much to be preferred inthe cruel hospitality of the Holy Therns to that of the First Born.

  "Down with Issus!" I shouted, and together the boy and I took up thefight once more. Two blacks went down with our swords in their vitals,and we stood face to face with Issus. As my sword went up to end herhorrid career her paralysis left her, and with an ear-piercing shriekshe turned to flee. Directly behind her a black gulf suddenly yawnedin the flooring of the dais. She sprang for the opening with the youthand I close at her heels. Her scattered guard rallied at her cry andrushed for us. A blow fell upon the head of the youth. He staggeredand would have fallen, but I caught him in my left arm and turned toface an infuriated mob of religious fanatics crazed by the affront Ihad put upon their goddess, just as Issus disappeared into the blackdepths beneath me.