The Chessmen of Mars (6 page)

Again arose the moaning from the hills, but this time closer.
Almost immediately it was answered from the opposite side of the
valley, behind her, and then from the distance to the right of
her, and twice upon her left. Her eyes had found a tree, quite
near. Slowly, and without taking her eyes from the shadows of
that other tree, she moved toward the overhanging branches that
might afford her sanctuary in the event of need, and at her first
move a low growl rose from the spot she had been watching and she
heard the sudden moving of a big body. Simultaneously the
creature shot into the moonlight in full charge upon her, its
tail erect, its tiny ears laid flat, its great mouth with its
multiple rows of sharp and powerful fangs already yawning for its
prey, its ten legs carrying it forward in great leaps, and now
from the beast's throat issued the frightful roar with which it
seeks to paralyze its prey. It was a banth—the great, maned lion
of Barsoom. Tara of Helium saw it coming and leaped for the tree
toward which she had been moving, and the banth realized her
intention and redoubled his speed. As his hideous roar awakened
the echoes in the hills, so too it awakened echoes in the valley;
but these echoes came from the living throats of others of his
kind, until it seemed to the girl that Fate had thrown her into
the midst of a countless multitude of these savage beasts.

Almost incredibly swift is the speed of a charging banth, and
fortunate it was that the girl had not been caught farther in the
open. As it was, her margin of safety was next to negligible, for
as she swung nimbly to the lower branches the creature in pursuit
of her crashed among the foliage almost upon her as it sprang
upward to seize her. It was only a combination of good fortune
and agility that saved her. A stout branch deflected the raking
talons of the carnivore, but so close was the call that a giant
forearm brushed her flesh in the instant before she scrambled to
the higher branches.

Baffled, the banth gave vent to his rage and disappointment in a
series of frightful roars that caused the very ground to tremble,
and to these were added the roarings and the growlings and the
moanings of his fellows as they approached from every direction,
in the hope of wresting from him whatever of his kill they could
take by craft or prowess. And now he turned snarling upon them as
they circled the tree, while the girl, huddled in a crotch above
them, looked down upon the gaunt, yellow monsters padding on
noiseless feet in a restless circle about her. She wondered now
at the strange freak of fate that had permitted her to come down
this far into the valley by night unharmed, but even more she
wondered how she was to return to the hills. She knew that she
would not dare venture it by night and she guessed, too, that by
day she might be confronted by even graver perils. To depend upon
this valley for sustenance she now saw to be beyond the pale of
possibility because of the banths that would keep her from food
and water by night, while the dwellers in the towers would
doubtless make it equally impossible for her to forage by day.
There was but one solution of her difficulty and that was to
return to her flier and pray that the wind would waft her to some
less terrorful land; but when might she return to the flier? The
banths gave little evidence of relinquishing hope of her, and even
if they wandered out of sight would she dare risk the attempt?
She doubted it.

Hopeless indeed seemed her situation—hopeless it was.

As Thuria, swift racer of the night, shot again into the sky the
scene changed. As by magic a new aspect fell athwart the face of
Nature. It was as though in the instant one had been transported
from one planet to another. It was the age-old miracle of the
Martian nights that is always new, even to Martians—two moons
resplendent in the heavens, where one had been but now;
conflicting, fast-changing shadows that altered the very hills
themselves; far Cluros, stately, majestic, almost stationary,
shedding his steady light upon the world below; Thuria, a great
and glorious orb, swinging swift across the vaulted dome of the
blue-black night, so low that she seemed to graze the hills, a
gorgeous spectacle that held the girl now beneath the spell of
its enchantment as it always had and always would.

"Ah, Thuria, mad queen of heaven!" murmured Tara of Helium. "The
hills pass in stately procession, their bosoms rising and
falling; the trees move in restless circles; the little grasses
describe their little arcs; and all is movement, restless,
mysterious movement without sound, while Thuria passes." The girl
sighed and let her gaze fall again to the stern realities
beneath. There was no mystery in the huge banths. He who had
discovered her squatted there looking hungrily up at her. Most of
the others had wandered away in search of other prey, but a few
remained hoping yet to bury their fangs in that soft body.

The night wore on. Again Thuria left the heavens to her lord and
master, hurrying on to keep her tryst with the Sun in other
skies. But a single banth waited impatiently beneath the tree
which harbored Tara of Helium. The others had left, but their
roars, and growls, and moans thundered or rumbled, or floated
back to her from near and far. What prey found they in this
little valley? There must be something that they were accustomed
to find here that they should be drawn in so great numbers. The
girl wondered what it could be.

How long the night! Numb, cold, and exhausted, Tara of Helium
clung to the tree in growing desperation, for once she had dozed
and almost fallen. Hope was low in her brave little heart. How
much more could she endure? She asked herself the question and
then, with a brave shake of her head, she squared her shoulders.
"I still live!" she said aloud.

The banth looked up and growled.

Came Thuria again and after awhile the great Sun—a flaming
lover, pursuing his heart's desire. And Cluros, the cold husband,
continued his serene way, as placid as before his house had been
violated by this hot Lothario. And now the Sun and both Moons
rode together in the sky, lending their far mysteries to make
weird the Martian dawn. Tara of Helium looked out across the fair
valley that spread upon all sides of her. It was rich and
beautiful, but even as she looked upon it she shuddered, for to
her mind came a picture of the headless things that the towers
and the walls hid. Those by day and the banths by night! Ah, was
it any wonder that she shuddered?

With the coming of the Sun the great Barsoomian lion rose to his
feet. He turned angry eyes upon the girl above him, voiced a
single ominous growl, and slunk away toward the hills. The girl
watched him, and she saw that he gave the towers as wide a berth
as possible and that he never took his eyes from one of them
while he was passing it. Evidently the inmates had taught these
savage creatures to respect them. Presently he passed from sight
in a narrow defile, nor in any direction that she could see was
there another. Momentarily at least the landscape was deserted.
The girl wondered if she dared to attempt to regain the hills and
her flier. She dreaded the coming of the workmen to the fields as
she was sure they would come. She shrank from again seeing the
headless bodies, and found herself wondering if these things
would come out into the fields and work. She looked toward the
nearest tower. There was no sign of life there. The valley lay
quiet now and deserted. She lowered herself stiffly to the
ground. Her muscles were cramped and every move brought a twinge
of pain. Pausing a moment to drink again at the stream she felt
refreshed and then turned without more delay toward the hills. To
cover the distance as quickly as possible seemed the only plan to
pursue. The trees no longer offered concealment and so she did
not go out of her way to be near them. The hills seemed very far
away. She had not thought, the night before, that she had
traveled so far. Really it had not been far, but now, with the
three towers to pass in broad daylight, the distance seemed great
indeed.

The second tower lay almost directly in her path. To make a
detour would not lessen the chance of detection, it would only
lengthen the period of her danger, and so she laid her course
straight for the hill where her flier was, regardless of the
tower. As she passed the first enclosure she thought that she
heard the sound of movement within, but the gate did not open and
she breathed more easily when it lay behind her. She came then to
the second enclosure, the outer wall of which she must circle, as
it lay across her route. As she passed close along it she
distinctly heard not only movement within, but voices. In the
world-language of Barsoom she heard a man issuing
instructions—so many were to pick usa, so many were to irrigate
this field, so many to cultivate that, and so on, as a foreman
lay out the day's work for his crew.

Tara of Helium had just reached the gate in the outer wall.
Without warning it swung open toward her. She saw that for a
moment it would hide her from those within and in that moment she
turned and ran, keeping close to the wall, until, passing out of
sight beyond the curve of the structure, she came to the opposite
side of the enclosure. Here, panting from her exertion and from
the excitement of her narrow escape, she threw herself among some
tall weeds that grew close to the foot of the wall. There she lay
trembling for some time, not even daring to raise her head and
look about. Never before had Tara of Helium felt the paralyzing
effects of terror. She was shocked and angry at herself, that
she, daughter of John Carter, Warlord of Barsoom, should exhibit
fear. Not even the fact that there had been none there to witness
it lessened her shame and anger, and the worst of it was she knew
that under similar circumstances she would again be equally as
craven. It was not the fear of death—she knew that. No, it was
the thought of those headless bodies and that she might see them
and that they might even touch her—lay hands upon her—seize
her. She shuddered and trembled at the thought.

After a while she gained sufficient command of herself to raise
her head and look about. To her horror she discovered that
everywhere she looked she saw people working in the fields or
preparing to do so. Workmen were coming from other towers. Little
bands were passing to this field and that. They were even some
already at work within thirty ads of her—about a hundred yards.
There were ten, perhaps, in the party nearest her, both men and
women, and all were beautiful of form and grotesque of face. So
meager were their trappings that they were practically naked; a
fact that was in no way remarkable among the tillers of the
fields of Mars. Each wore the peculiar, high leather collar that
completely hid the neck, and each wore sufficient other leather
to support a single sword and a pocket-pouch. The leather was
very old and worn, showing long, hard service, and was absolutely
plain with the exception of a single device upon the left
shoulder. The heads, however, were covered with ornaments of
precious metals and jewels, so that little more than eyes, nose,
and mouth were discernible. These were hideously inhuman and yet
grotesquely human at the same time. The eyes were far apart and
protruding, the nose scarce more than two small, parallel slits
set vertically above a round hole that was the mouth. The heads
were peculiarly repulsive—so much so that it seemed unbelievable
to the girl that they formed an integral part of the beautiful
bodies below them.

So fascinated was Tara of Helium that she could scarce take her
eyes from the strange creatures—a fact that was to prove her
undoing, for in order that she might see them she was forced to
expose a part of her own head and presently, to her
consternation, she saw that one of the creatures had stopped his
work and was staring directly at her. She did not dare move, for
it was still possible that the thing had not seen her, or at
least was only suspicious that some creature lay hid among the
weeds. If she could allay this suspicion by remaining motionless
the creature might believe that he had been mistaken and return
to his work; but, alas, such was not to be the case. She saw the
thing call the attention of others to her and almost immediately
four or five of them started to move in her direction.

It was impossible now to escape discovery. Her only hope lay in
flight. If she could elude them and reach the hills and the flier
ahead of them she might escape, and that could be accomplished in
but one way—flight, immediate and swift. Leaping to her feet she
darted along the base of the wall which she must skirt to the
opposite side, beyond which lay the hill that was her goal. Her
act was greeted by strange whistling sounds from the things
behind her, and casting a glance over her shoulder she saw them
all in rapid pursuit.

There were also shrill commands that she halt, but to these she
paid no attention. Before she had half circled the enclosure she
discovered that her chances for successful escape were great,
since it was evident to her that her pursuers were not so fleet
as she. High indeed then were her hopes as she came in sight of
the hill, but they were soon dashed by what lay before her, for
there, in the fields that lay between, were fully a hundred
creatures similar to those behind her and all were on the alert,
evidently warned by the whistling of their fellows. Instructions
and commands were shouted to and fro, with the result that those
before her spread roughly into a great half circle to intercept
her, and when she turned to the right, hoping to elude the net,
she saw others coming from fields beyond, and to the left the
same was true. But Tara of Helium would not admit defeat. Without
once pausing she turned directly toward the center of the
advancing semi-circle, beyond which lay her single chance of
escape, and as she ran she drew her long, slim dagger. Like her
valiant sire, if die she must, she would die fighting. There were
gaps in the thin line confronting her and toward the widest of
one of these she directed her course. The things on either side
of the opening guessed her intent for they closed in to place
themselves in her path. This widened the openings on either side
of them and as the girl appeared almost to rush into their arms
she turned suddenly at right angles, ran swiftly in the new
direction for a few yards, and then dashed quickly toward the
hill again. Now only a single warrior, with a wide gap on either
side of him, barred her clear way to freedom, though all the
others were speeding as rapidly as they could to intercept her.
If she could pass this one without too much delay she could
escape, of that she was certain. Her every hope hinged on this.
The creature before her realized it, too, for he moved
cautiously, though swiftly, to intercept her, as a Rugby fullback
might maneuver in the realization that he alone stood between the
opposing team and a touchdown.