CHAPTER XVI

  ANOTHER CHANGE OF NAME

  Turan dashed himself against the door of his prison in a vain effort tobreak through the solid skeel to the side of Tara whom he knew to be ingrave danger, but the heavy panels held and he succeeded only inbruising his shoulders and his arms. At last he desisted and set aboutsearching his prison for some other means of escape. He found no otheropening in the stone walls, but his search revealed a heterogeneouscollection of odds and ends of arms and apparel, of harness andornaments and insignia, and sleeping silks and furs in greatquantities. There were swords and spears and several large, two-bladedbattle-axes, the heads of which bore a striking resemblance to thepropellor of a small flier. Seizing one of these he attacked the dooronce more with great fury. He expected to hear something from I-Gos atthis ruthless destruction, but no sound came to him from beyond thedoor, which was, he thought, too thick for the human voice topenetrate; but he would have wagered much that I-Gos heard him. Bits ofthe hard wood splintered at each impact of the heavy axe, but it wasslow work and heavy. Presently he was compelled to rest, and so it wentfor what seemed hours--working almost to the verge of exhaustion andthen resting for a few minutes; but ever the hole grew larger though hecould see nothing of the interior of the room beyond because of thehanging that I-Gos had drawn across it after he had locked Turan within.

  At last, however, the panthan had hewn an opening through which hisbody could pass, and seizing a long-sword that he had brought close tothe door for the purpose he crawled through into the next room.Flinging aside the arras he stood ready, sword in hand, to fight hisway to the side of Tara of Helium--but she was not there. In the centerof the room lay I-Gos, dead upon the floor; but Tara of Helium wasnowhere to be seen.

  Turan was nonplussed. It must have been her hand that had struck downthe old man, yet she had made no effort to release Turan from hisprison. And then he thought of those last words of hers: "I do not wantyour love! I hate you," and the truth dawned upon him--she had seizedupon this first opportunity to escape him. With downcast heart Turanturned away. What should he do? There could be but one answer. While helived and she lived he must still leave no stone unturned to effect herescape and safe return to the land of her people. But how? How was heeven to find his way from this labyrinth? How was he to find her again?He walked to the nearest doorway. It chanced to be that which led intothe room containing the mounted dead, awaiting transportation tobalcony or grim room or whatever place was to receive them. His eyestravelled to the great, painted warrior on the thoat and as they ranover the splendid trappings and the serviceable arms a new light cameinto the pain-dulled eyes of the panthan. With a quick step he crossedto the side of the dead warrior and dragged him from his mount. Withequal celerity he stripped him of his harness and his arms, and tearingoff his own, donned the regalia of the dead man. Then he hastened backto the room in which he had been trapped, for there he had seen thatwhich he needed to make his disguise complete. In a cabinet he foundthem--pots of paint that the old taxidermist had used to place thewar-paint in its wide bands across the cold faces of dead warriors.

  A few moments later Gahan of Gathol emerged from the room a warrior ofManator in every detail of harness, equipment, and ornamentation. Hehad removed from the leather of the dead man the insignia of his houseand rank so that he might pass, with the least danger of arousingsuspicion, as a common warrior.

  To search for Tara of Helium in the vast, dim labyrinth of the pits ofO-Tar seemed to the Gatholian a hopeless quest, foredoomed to failure.It would be wiser to seek the streets of Manator where he might hope tolearn first if she had been recaptured and, if not, then he couldreturn to the pits and pursue the hunt for her. To find egress from themaze he must perforce travel a considerable distance through thewinding corridors and chambers, since he had no idea as to the locationor direction of any exit. In fact, he could not have retraced his stepsa hundred yards toward the point at which he and Tara had entered thegloomy caverns, and so he set out in the hope that he might find byaccident either Tara of Helium or a way to the street level above.

  For a time he passed room after room filled with the cunninglypreserved dead of Manator, many of which were piled in tiers after themanner that firewood is corded, and as he moved through corridor andchamber he noticed hieroglyphics painted upon the walls above everyopening and at each fork or crossing of corridors, until by observationhe reached the conclusion that these indicated the designations ofpassageways, so that one who understood them might travel quickly andsurely through the pits; but Turan did not understand them. Even couldhe have read the language of Manator they might not materially haveaided one unfamiliar with the city; but he could not read them at allsince, though there is but one spoken language upon Barsoom, there areas many different written languages as there are nations. One thing,however, soon became apparent to him--the hieroglyphic of a corridorremained the same until the corridor ended.

  It was not long before Turan realized from the distance that he hadtraveled that the pits were part of a vast system undermining,possibly, the entire city. At least he was convinced that he had passedbeyond the precincts of the palace. The corridors and chambers variedin appearance and architecture from time to time. All were lighted,though usually quite dimly, with radium bulbs. For a long time he sawno signs of life other than an occasional ulsio, then quite suddenly hecame face to face with a warrior at one of the numerous crossings. Thefellow looked at him, nodded, and passed on. Turan breathed a sigh ofrelief as he realized that his disguise was effective, but he wascaught in the middle of it by a hail from the warrior who had stoppedand turned toward him. The panthan was glad that a sword hung at hisside, and glad too that they were buried in the dim recesses of thepits and that there would be but a single antagonist, for time wasprecious.

  "Heard you any word of the other?" called the warrior to him.

  "No," replied Turan, who had not the faintest idea to whom or what thefellow referred.

  "He cannot escape," continued the warrior. "The woman ran directly intoour arms, but she swore that she knew not where her companion might befound."

  "They took her back to O-Tar?" asked Turan, for now he knew whom theother meant, and he would know more.

  "They took her back to The Towers of Jetan," replied the warrior."Tomorrow the games commence and doubtless she will be played for,though I doubt if any wants her, beautiful as she is. She fears noteven O-Tar. By Cluros! but she would make a hard slave to subdue--aregular she-banth she is. Not for me," and he continued on his wayshaking his head.

  Turan hurried on searching for an avenue that led to the level of thestreets above when suddenly he came to the open doorway of a smallchamber in which sat a man who was chained to the wall. Turan voiced alow exclamation of surprise and pleasure as he recognized that the manwas A-Kor, and that he had stumbled by accident upon the very cell inwhich he had been imprisoned. A-Kor looked at him questioningly. It wasevident that he did not recognize his fellow prisoner. Turan crossed tothe table and leaning close to the other whispered to him.

  "I am Turan the panthan," he said, "who was chained beside you."

  A-Kor looked at him closely. "Your own mother would never know you!" hesaid; "but tell me, what has transpired since they took you away?"

  Turan recounted his experiences in the throne room of O-Tar and in thepits beneath, "and now," he continued, "I must find these Towers ofJetan and see what may be done toward liberating the Princess ofHelium."

  A-Kor shook his head. "Long was I dwar of the Towers," he said, "and Ican say to you, stranger, that you might as well attempt to reduceManator, single handed, as to rescue a prisoner from The Towers ofJetan."

  "But I must," replied Turan.

  "Are you better than a good swordsman?" asked A-Kor presently.

  "I am accounted so," replied Turan.

  "Then there is a way--sst!" he was suddenly silent and pointing towardthe base of the wall at the end of the room.

  Turan looked in the direction
the other's forefinger indicated, to seeprojecting from the mouth of an ulsio's burrow two large chelae and apair of protruding eyes.

  "Ghek!" he cried and immediately the hideous kaldane crawled out uponthe floor and approached the table. A-Kor drew back with a half-stifledejaculation of repulsion. "Do not fear," Turan reassured him. "It is myfriend--he whom I told you held O-Tar while Tara and I escaped."

  Ghek climbed to the table top and squatted between the two warriors."You are safe in assuming," he said addressing A-Kor, "that Turan thepanthan has no master in all Manator where the art of sword-play isconcerned. I overheard your conversation--go on."

  "You are his friend," continued A-Kor, "and so I may explain safely inyour presence the only plan I know whereby he may hope to rescue thePrincess of Helium. She is to be the stake of one of the games and itis O-Tar's desire that she be won by slaves and common warriors, sinceshe repulsed him. Thus would he punish her. Not a single man, but allwho survive upon the winning side are to possess her. With money,however, one may buy off the others before the game. That you could do,and if your side won and you survived she would become your slave."

  "But how may a stranger and a hunted fugitive accomplish this?" askedTuran.

  "No one will recognize you. You will go tomorrow to the keeper of theTowers and enlist in that game for which the girl is to be the stake,telling the keeper that you are from Manataj, the farthest city ofManator. If he questions you, you may say that you saw her when she wasbrought into the city after her capture. If you win her, you will findthoats stabled at my palace and you will carry from me a token thatwill place all that is mine at your disposal."

  "But how can I buy off the others in the game without money?" askedTuran. "I have none--not even of my own country."

  A-Kor opened his pocket-pouch and drew forth a packet of Manatorianmoney.

  "Here is sufficient to buy them off twice over," he said, handing aportion of it to Turan.

  "But why do you do this for a stranger?" asked the panthan.

  "My mother was a captive princess here," replied A-Kor. "I but do forthe Princess of Helium what my mother would have me do."

  "Under the circumstances, then, Manatorian," replied Turan, "I cannotbut accept your generosity on behalf of Tara of Helium and live in hopethat some day I may do for you something in return."

  "Now you must be gone," advised A-Kor. "At any minute a guard may comeand discover you here. Go directly to the Avenue of Gates, whichcircles the city just within the outer wall. There you will find manyplaces devoted to the lodging of strangers. You will know them by thethoat's head carved above the doors. Say that you are here from Manatajto witness the games. Take the name of U-Kal--it will arouse nosuspicion, nor will you if you can avoid conversation. Early in themorning seek the keeper of The Towers of Jetan. May the strength andfortune of all your ancestors be with you!"

  Bidding good-bye to Ghek and A-Kor, the panthan, following directionsgiven him by A-Kor, set out to find his way to the Avenue of Gates, norhad he any great difficulty. On the way he met several warriors, butbeyond a nod they gave him no heed. With ease he found a lodging placewhere there were many strangers from other cities of Manator. As he hadhad no sleep since the previous night he threw himself among the silksand furs of his couch to gain the rest which he must have, was he togive the best possible account of himself in the service of Tara ofHelium the following day.

  It was already morning when he awoke, and rising he paid for hislodgings, sought a place to eat, and a short time later was on his waytoward The Towers of Jetan, which he had no difficulty in finding owingto the great crowds that were winding along the avenues toward thegames. The new keeper of The Towers who had succeeded E-Med was toobusy to scrutinize entries closely, for in addition to the manyvolunteer players there were scores of slaves and prisoners beingforced into the games by their owners or the government. The name ofeach must be recorded as well as the position he was to play and thegame or games in which he was to be entered, and then there were thesubstitutes for each that was entered in more than a single game--onefor each additional game that an individual was entered for, that nosucceeding game might be delayed by the death or disablement of aplayer.

  "Your name?" asked a clerk as Turan presented himself.

  "U-Kal," replied the panthan.

  "Your city?"

  "Manataj."

  The keeper, who was standing beside the clerk, looked at Turan. "Youhave come a great way to play at jetan," he said. "It is seldom thatthe men of Manataj attend other than the decennial games. Tell me ofO-Zar! Will he attend next year? Ah, but he was a noble fighter. If yoube half the swordsman, U-Kal, the fame of Manataj will increase thisday. But tell me, what of O-Zar?"

  "He is well," replied Turan, glibly, "and he sent greetings to hisfriends in Manator."

  "Good!" exclaimed the keeper, "and now in what game would you enter?"

  "I would play for the Heliumetic princess, Tara," replied Turan.

  "But man, she is to be the stake of a game for slaves and criminals,"cried the keeper. "You would not volunteer for such a game!"

  "But I would," replied Turan. "I saw her when she was brought into thecity and even then I vowed to possess her."

  "But you will have to share her with the survivors even if your colorwins," objected the other.

  "They may be brought to reason," insisted Turan.

  "And you will chance incurring the wrath of O-Tar, who has no love forthis savage barbarian," explained the keeper.

  "And I win her O-Tar will be rid of her," said Turan.

  The keeper of The Towers of Jetan shook his head. "You are rash," hesaid. "I would that I might dissuade the friend of my friend O-Zar fromsuch madness."

  "Would you favor the friend of O-Zar?" asked Turan.

  "Gladly!" exclaimed the other. "What may I do for him?"

  "Make me chief of the Black and give me for my pieces all slaves fromGathol, for I understand that those be excellent warriors," replied thepanthan.

  "It is a strange request," said the keeper, "but for my friend O-Zar Iwould do even more, though of course--" he hesitated--"it is customaryfor one who would be chief to make some slight payment."

  "Certainly," Turan hastened to assure him; "I had not forgotten that. Iwas about to ask you what the customary amount is."

  "For the friend of my friend it shall be nominal," replied the keeper,naming a figure that Gahan, accustomed to the high price of wealthyGathol, thought ridiculously low.

  "Tell me," he said, handing the money to the keeper, "when the game forthe Heliumite is to be played."

  "It is the second in order of the day's games; and now if you will comewith me you may select your pieces."

  Turan followed the keeper to a large court which lay between the towersand the jetan field, where hundreds of warriors were assembled. Alreadychiefs for the games of the day were selecting their pieces andassigning them to positions, though for the principal games thesematters had been arranged for weeks before. The keeper led Turan to apart of the courtyard where the majority of the slaves were assembled.

  "Take your choice of those not assigned," said the keeper, "and whenyou have your quota conduct them to the field. Your place will beassigned you by an officer there, and there you will remain with yourpieces until the second game is called. I wish you luck, U-Kal, thoughfrom what I have heard you will be more lucky to lose than to win theslave from Helium."

  After the fellow had departed Turan approached the slaves. "I seek thebest swordsmen for the second game," he announced. "Men from Gathol Iwish, for I have heard that these be noble fighters."

  A slave rose and approached him. "It is all the same in which game wedie," he said. "I would fight for you as a panthan in the second game."

  Another came. "I am not from Gathol," he said. "I am from Helium, and Iwould fight for the honor of a princess of Helium."

  "Good!" exclaimed Turan. "Art a swordsman of repute in Helium?"

  "I was a dwar under the great Warlord
, and I have fought at his side ina score of battles from The Golden Cliffs to The Carrion Caves. My nameis Val Dor. Who knows Helium, knows my prowess."

  The name was well known to Gahan, who had heard the man spoken of onhis last visit to Helium, and his mysterious disappearance discussed aswell as his renown as a fighter.

  "How could I know aught of Helium?" asked Turan; "but if you be such afighter as you say no position could suit you better than that ofFlier. What say you?"

  The man's eyes denoted sudden surprise. He looked keenly at Turan, hiseyes running quickly over the other's harness. Then he stepped quiteclose so that his words might not be overheard.

  "Methinks you may know more of Helium than of Manator," he whispered.

  "What mean you, fellow?" demanded Turan, seeking to cudgel his brainsfor the source of this man's knowledge, guess, or inspiration.

  "I mean," replied Val Dor, "that you are not of Manator and that if youwish to hide the fact it is well that you speak not to a Manatorian asyou did just speak to me of--Fliers! There be no Fliers in Manator andno piece in their game of Jetan bearing that name. Instead they callhim who stands next to the Chief or Princess, Odwar. The piece has thesame moves and power that the Flier has in the game as played outsideManator. Remember this then and remember, too, that if you have asecret it be safe in the keeping of Val Dor of Helium."

  Turan made no reply but turned to the task of selecting the remainderof his pieces. Val Dor, the Heliumite, and Floran, the volunteer fromGathol, were of great assistance to him, since one or the other of themknew most of the slaves from whom his selection was to be made. Thepieces all chosen, Turan led them to the place beside the playing fieldwhere they were to wait their turn, and here he passed the word aroundthat they were to fight for more than the stake he offered for theprincess should they win. This stake they accepted, so that Turan wassure of possessing Tara if his side was victorious, but he knew thatthese men would fight even more valorously for chivalry than for money,nor was it difficult to enlist the interest even of the Gatholians inthe service of the princess. And now he held out the possibility of astill further reward.

  "I cannot promise you," he explained, "but I may say I have heard thatthis day which makes it possible that should we win this game we mayeven win your freedom!"

  They leaped to their feet and crowded around him with many questions.

  "It may not be spoken of aloud," he said; "but Floran and Val Dor knowand they assure me that you may all be trusted. Listen! What I wouldtell you places my life in your hands, but you must know that every manwill realize that he is fighting today the greatest battle of hislife--for the honor and the freedom of Barsoom's most wondrous princessand for his own freedom as well--for the chance to return each to hisown country and to the woman who awaits him there.

  "First, then, is my secret. I am not of Manator. Like yourselves I am aslave, though for the moment disguised as a Manatorian from Manataj. Mycountry and my identity must remain undisclosed for reasons that haveno bearing upon our game today. I, then, am one of you. I fight for thesame things that you will fight for.

  "And now for that which I have but just learned. U-Thor, the great jedof Manatos, quarreled with O-Tar in the palace the day before yesterdayand their warriors set upon one another. U-Thor was driven as far asThe Gate of Enemies, where he now lies encamped. At any moment thefight may be renewed; but it is thought that U-Thor has sent to Manatosfor reinforcements. Now, men of Gathol, here is the thing thatinterests you. U-Thor has recently taken to wife the Princess Haja ofGathol, who was slave to O-Tar and whose son, A-Kor, was dwar of TheTowers of Jetan. Haja's heart is filled with loyalty for Gathol andcompassion for her sons who are here enslaved, and this lattersentiment she has to some extent transmitted to U-Thor. Aid me,therefore, in freeing the Princess Tara of Helium and I believe that Ican aid you and her and myself to escape the city. Bend close yourears, slaves of O-Tar, that no cruel enemy may hear my words," andGahan of Gathol whispered in low tones the daring plan he hadconceived. "And now," he demanded, when he had finished, "let him whodoes not dare speak now." None replied. "Is there none?"

  "And it would not betray you should I cast my sword at thy feet, it hadbeen done ere this," said one in low tones pregnant with suppressedfeeling.

  "And I!" "And I!" "And I!" chorused the others in vibrant whispers.