A Princess of Mars (10 page)

"I hear you, Tars Tarkas," I answered. "As you know I am not of
Barsoom; your ways are not my ways, and I can only act in the
future as I have in the past, in accordance with the dictates of
my conscience and guided by the standards of mine own people. If
you will leave me alone I will go in peace, but if not, let the
individual Barsoomians with whom I must deal either respect my
rights as a stranger among you, or take whatever consequences may
befall. Of one thing let us be sure, whatever may be your ultimate
intentions toward this unfortunate young woman, whoever would offer
her injury or insult in the future must figure on making a full
accounting to me. I understand that you belittle all sentiments of
generosity and kindliness, but I do not, and I can convince your
most doughty warrior that these characteristics are not incompatible
with an ability to fight."

Ordinarily I am not given to long speeches, nor ever before had I
descended to bombast, but I had guessed at the keynote which would
strike an answering chord in the breasts of the green Martians, nor
was I wrong, for my harangue evidently deeply impressed them, and
their attitude toward me thereafter was still further respectful.

Tars Tarkas himself seemed pleased with my reply, but his only
comment was more or less enigmatical—"And I think I know Tal Hajus,
Jeddak of Thark."

I now turned my attention to Dejah Thoris, and assisting her to
her feet I turned with her toward the exit, ignoring her hovering
guardian harpies as well as the inquiring glances of the chieftains.
Was I not now a chieftain also! Well, then, I would assume the
responsibilities of one. They did not molest us, and so Dejah
Thoris, Princess of Helium, and John Carter, gentleman of Virginia,
followed by the faithful Woola, passed through utter silence from
the audience chamber of Lorquas Ptomel, Jed among the Tharks of
Barsoom.

As we reached the open the two female guards who had been detailed
to watch over Dejah Thoris hurried up and made as though to assume
custody of her once more. The poor child shrank against me and I
felt her two little hands fold tightly over my arm. Waving the
women away, I informed them that Sola would attend the captive
hereafter, and I further warned Sarkoja that any more of her cruel
attentions bestowed upon Dejah Thoris would result in Sarkoja's
sudden and painful demise.

My threat was unfortunate and resulted in more harm than good to
Dejah Thoris, for, as I learned later, men do not kill women upon
Mars, nor women, men. So Sarkoja merely gave us an ugly look and
departed to hatch up deviltries against us.

I soon found Sola and explained to her that I wished her to guard
Dejah Thoris as she had guarded me; that I wished her to find other
quarters where they would not be molested by Sarkoja, and I finally
informed her that I myself would take up my quarters among the men.

Sola glanced at the accouterments which were carried in my hand and
slung across my shoulder.

"You are a great chieftain now, John Carter," she said, "and I
must do your bidding, though indeed I am glad to do it under any
circumstances. The man whose metal you carry was young, but he was
a great warrior, and had by his promotions and kills won his way
close to the rank of Tars Tarkas, who, as you know, is second to
Lorquas Ptomel only. You are eleventh, there are but ten chieftains
in this community who rank you in prowess."

"And if I should kill Lorquas Ptomel?" I asked.

"You would be first, John Carter; but you may only win that honor
by the will of the entire council that Lorquas Ptomel meet you in
combat, or should he attack you, you may kill him in self-defense,
and thus win first place."

I laughed, and changed the subject. I had no particular desire
to kill Lorquas Ptomel, and less to be a jed among the Tharks.

I accompanied Sola and Dejah Thoris in a search for new quarters,
which we found in a building nearer the audience chamber and of far
more pretentious architecture than our former habitation. We also
found in this building real sleeping apartments with ancient beds of
highly wrought metal swinging from enormous gold chains depending
from the marble ceilings. The decoration of the walls was most
elaborate, and, unlike the frescoes in the other buildings I had
examined, portrayed many human figures in the compositions. These
were of people like myself, and of a much lighter color than
Dejah Thoris. They were clad in graceful, flowing robes, highly
ornamented with metal and jewels, and their luxuriant hair was of
a beautiful golden and reddish bronze. The men were beardless
and only a few wore arms. The scenes depicted for the most part,
a fair-skinned, fair-haired people at play.

Dejah Thoris clasped her hands with an exclamation of rapture as she
gazed upon these magnificent works of art, wrought by a people long
extinct; while Sola, on the other hand, apparently did not see them.

We decided to use this room, on the second floor and overlooking
the plaza, for Dejah Thoris and Sola, and another room adjoining
and in the rear for the cooking and supplies. I then dispatched
Sola to bring the bedding and such food and utensils as she might
need, telling her that I would guard Dejah Thoris until her return.

As Sola departed Dejah Thoris turned to me with a faint smile.

"And whereto, then, would your prisoner escape should you leave her,
unless it was to follow you and crave your protection, and ask your
pardon for the cruel thoughts she has harbored against you these
past few days?"

"You are right," I answered, "there is no escape for either of us
unless we go together."

"I heard your challenge to the creature you call Tars Tarkas, and
I think I understand your position among these people, but what I
cannot fathom is your statement that you are not of Barsoom."

"In the name of my first ancestor, then," she continued, "where may
you be from? You are like unto my people, and yet so unlike. You
speak my language, and yet I heard you tell Tars Tarkas that you had
but learned it recently. All Barsoomians speak the same tongue from
the ice-clad south to the ice-clad north, though their written
languages differ. Only in the valley Dor, where the river Iss
empties into the lost sea of Korus, is there supposed to be a
different language spoken, and, except in the legends of our
ancestors, there is no record of a Barsoomian returning up the river
Iss, from the shores of Korus in the valley of Dor. Do not tell me
that you have thus returned! They would kill you horribly anywhere
upon the surface of Barsoom if that were true; tell me it is not!"

Her eyes were filled with a strange, weird light; her voice was
pleading, and her little hands, reached up upon my breast, were
pressed against me as though to wring a denial from my very heart.

"I do not know your customs, Dejah Thoris, but in my own Virginia
a gentleman does not lie to save himself; I am not of Dor; I have
never seen the mysterious Iss; the lost sea of Korus is still lost,
so far as I am concerned. Do you believe me?"

And then it struck me suddenly that I was very anxious that she
should believe me. It was not that I feared the results which would
follow a general belief that I had returned from the Barsoomian
heaven or hell, or whatever it was. Why was it, then! Why should
I care what she thought? I looked down at her; her beautiful face
upturned, and her wonderful eyes opening up the very depth of her
soul; and as my eyes met hers I knew why, and—I shuddered.

A similar wave of feeling seemed to stir her; she drew away from me
with a sigh, and with her earnest, beautiful face turned up to mine,
she whispered: "I believe you, John Carter; I do not know what a
'gentleman' is, nor have I ever heard before of Virginia; but on
Barsoom no man lies; if he does not wish to speak the truth he is
silent. Where is this Virginia, your country, John Carter?" she
asked, and it seemed that this fair name of my fair land had never
sounded more beautiful than as it fell from those perfect lips on
that far-gone day.

"I am of another world," I answered, "the great planet Earth, which
revolves about our common sun and next within the orbit of your
Barsoom, which we know as Mars. How I came here I cannot tell you,
for I do not know; but here I am, and since my presence has
permitted me to serve Dejah Thoris I am glad that I am here."

She gazed at me with troubled eyes, long and questioningly. That
it was difficult to believe my statement I well knew, nor could I
hope that she would do so however much I craved her confidence and
respect. I would much rather not have told her anything of my
antecedents, but no man could look into the depth of those eyes
and refuse her slightest behest.

Finally she smiled, and, rising, said: "I shall have to believe even
though I cannot understand. I can readily perceive that you are not
of the Barsoom of today; you are like us, yet different—but why
should I trouble my poor head with such a problem, when my heart
tells me that I believe because I wish to believe!"

It was good logic, good, earthly, feminine logic, and if it
satisfied her I certainly could pick no flaws in it. As a matter of
fact it was about the only kind of logic that could be brought to
bear upon my problem. We fell into a general conversation then,
asking and answering many questions on each side. She was curious
to learn of the customs of my people and displayed a remarkable
knowledge of events on Earth. When I questioned her closely on this
seeming familiarity with earthly things she laughed, and cried out:

"Why, every school boy on Barsoom knows the geography, and much
concerning the fauna and flora, as well as the history of your
planet fully as well as of his own. Can we not see everything which
takes place upon Earth, as you call it; is it not hanging there in
the heavens in plain sight?"

This baffled me, I must confess, fully as much as my statements had
confounded her; and I told her so. She then explained in general
the instruments her people had used and been perfecting for ages,
which permit them to throw upon a screen a perfect image of what
is transpiring upon any planet and upon many of the stars. These
pictures are so perfect in detail that, when photographed and
enlarged, objects no greater than a blade of grass may be distinctly
recognized. I afterward, in Helium, saw many of these pictures, as
well as the instruments which produced them.

"If, then, you are so familiar with earthly things," I asked, "why
is it that you do not recognize me as identical with the inhabitants
of that planet?"

She smiled again as one might in bored indulgence of a questioning
child.

"Because, John Carter," she replied, "nearly every planet and star
having atmospheric conditions at all approaching those of Barsoom,
shows forms of animal life almost identical with you and me; and,
further, Earth men, almost without exception, cover their bodies
with strange, unsightly pieces of cloth, and their heads with
hideous contraptions the purpose of which we have been unable to
conceive; while you, when found by the Tharkian warriors, were
entirely undisfigured and unadorned.

"The fact that you wore no ornaments is a strong proof of your
un-Barsoomian origin, while the absence of grotesque coverings
might cause a doubt as to your earthliness."

I then narrated the details of my departure from the Earth,
explaining that my body there lay fully clothed in all the, to her,
strange garments of mundane dwellers. At this point Sola returned
with our meager belongings and her young Martian protege, who, of
course, would have to share the quarters with them.

Sola asked us if we had had a visitor during her absence, and seemed
much surprised when we answered in the negative. It seemed that as
she had mounted the approach to the upper floors where our quarters
were located, she had met Sarkoja descending. We decided that she
must have been eavesdropping, but as we could recall nothing of
importance that had passed between us we dismissed the matter as of
little consequence, merely promising ourselves to be warned to the
utmost caution in the future.

Dejah Thoris and I then fell to examining the architecture and
decorations of the beautiful chambers of the building we were
occupying. She told me that these people had presumably flourished
over a hundred thousand years before. They were the early
progenitors of her race, but had mixed with the other great race
of early Martians, who were very dark, almost black, and also with
the reddish yellow race which had flourished at the same time.

These three great divisions of the higher Martians had been forced
into a mighty alliance as the drying up of the Martian seas had
compelled them to seek the comparatively few and always diminishing
fertile areas, and to defend themselves, under new conditions of
life, against the wild hordes of green men.

Ages of close relationship and intermarrying had resulted in the
race of red men, of which Dejah Thoris was a fair and beautiful
daughter. During the ages of hardships and incessant warring
between their own various races, as well as with the green men, and
before they had fitted themselves to the changed conditions, much
of the high civilization and many of the arts of the fair-haired
Martians had become lost; but the red race of today has reached a
point where it feels that it has made up in new discoveries and in a
more practical civilization for all that lies irretrievably buried
with the ancient Barsoomians, beneath the countless intervening
ages.

These ancient Martians had been a highly cultivated and literary
race, but during the vicissitudes of those trying centuries of
readjustment to new conditions, not only did their advancement and
production cease entirely, but practically all their archives,
records, and literature were lost.