The gods of Mars
expecting you and we are prepared.”
“So it would appear,” I answered, “for you were all ready to become my
prisoners with scarce a blow struck on either side.”
“The fleet must have missed you,” he said, “but it will return to
Omean, and then that will be a very different matter—for John Carter.”
“I do not know that the fleet has missed me as yet,” I said, but of
course he did not grasp my meaning, and only looked puzzled.
“Many prisoners travel to Issus in your grim craft, Yersted?” I asked.
“Very many,” he assented.
“Might you remember one whom men called Dejah Thoris?”
“Well, indeed, for her great beauty, and then, too, for the fact that
she was wife to the first mortal that ever escaped from Issus through
all the countless ages of her godhood. And the way that Issus remembers
her best as the wife of one and the mother of another who raised their
hands against the Goddess of Life Eternal.”
I shuddered for fear of the cowardly revenge that I knew Issus might
have taken upon the innocent Dejah Thoris for the sacrilege of her son
and her husband.
“And where is Dejah Thoris now?” I asked, knowing that he would say the
words I most dreaded, but yet I loved her so that I could not refrain
from hearing even the worst about her fate so that it fell from the
lips of one who had seen her but recently. It was to me as though it
brought her closer to me.
“Yesterday the monthly rites of Issus were held,” replied Yersted, “and
I saw her then sitting in her accustomed place at the foot of Issus.”
“What,” I cried, “she is not dead, then?”
“Why, no,” replied the black, “it has been no year since she gazed upon
the divine glory of the radiant face of—”
“No year?” I interrupted.
“Why, no,” insisted Yersted. “It cannot have been upward of three
hundred and seventy or eighty days.”
A great light burst upon me. How stupid I had been! I could scarcely
retain an outward exhibition of my great joy. Why had I forgotten the
great difference in the length of Martian and Earthly years! The ten
Earth years I had spent upon Barsoom had encompassed but five years and
ninety-six days of Martian time, whose days are forty-one minutes
longer than ours, and whose years number six hundred and eighty-seven
days.
I am in time! I am in time! The words surged through my brain again and
again, until at last I must have voiced them audibly, for Yersted shook
his head.
“In time to save your Princess?” he asked, and then without waiting for
my reply, “No, John Carter, Issus will not give up her own. She knows
that you are coming, and ere ever a vandal foot is set within the
precincts of the Temple of Issus, if such a calamity should befall,
Dejah Thoris will be put away for ever from the last faint hope of
rescue.”
“You mean that she will be killed merely to thwart me?” I asked.
“Not that, other than as a last resort,” he replied. “Hast ever heard
of the Temple of the Sun? It is there that they will put her. It lies
far within the inner court of the Temple of Issus, a little temple that
raises a thin spire far above the spires and minarets of the great
temple that surrounds it. Beneath it, in the ground, there lies the
main body of the temple consisting in six hundred and eighty-seven
circular chambers, one below another. To each chamber a single corridor
leads through solid rock from the pits of Issus.
“As the entire Temple of the Sun revolves once with each revolution of
Barsoom about the sun, but once each year does the entrance to each
separate chamber come opposite the mouth of the corridor which forms
its only link to the world without.
“Here Issus puts those who displease her, but whom she does not care to
execute forthwith. Or to punish a noble of the First Born she may cause
him to be placed within a chamber of the Temple of the Sun for a year.
Ofttimes she imprisons an executioner with the condemned, that death
may come in a certain horrible form upon a given day, or again but
enough food is deposited in the chamber to sustain life but the number
of days that Issus has allotted for mental anguish.
“Thus will Dejah Thoris die, and her fate will be sealed by the first
alien foot that crosses the threshold of Issus.”
So I was to be thwarted in the end, although I had performed the
miraculous and come within a few short moments of my divine Princess,
yet was I as far from her as when I stood upon the banks of the Hudson
forty-eight million miles away.
CHAPTER XXI
THROUGH FLOOD AND FLAME
Yersted’s information convinced me that there was no time to be lost. I
must reach the Temple of Issus secretly before the forces under Tars
Tarkas assaulted at dawn. Once within its hated walls I was positive
that I could overcome the guards of Issus and bear away my Princess,
for at my back I would have a force ample for the occasion.
No sooner had Carthoris and the others joined me than we commenced the
transportation of our men through the submerged passage to the mouth of
the gangways which lead from the submarine pool at the temple end of
the watery tunnel to the pits of Issus.
Many trips were required, but at last all stood safely together again
at the beginning of the end of our quest. Five thousand strong we were,
all seasoned fighting-men of the most warlike race of the red men of
Barsoom.
As Carthoris alone knew the hidden ways of the tunnels we could not
divide the party and attack the temple at several points at once as
would have been most desirable, and so it was decided that he lead us
all as quickly as possible to a point near the temple’s centre.
As we were about to leave the pool and enter the corridor, an officer
called my attention to the waters upon which the submarine floated. At
first they seemed to be merely agitated as from the movement of some
great body beneath the surface, and I at once conjectured that another
submarine was rising to the surface in pursuit of us; but presently it
became apparent that the level of the waters was rising, not with
extreme rapidity, but very surely, and that soon they would overflow
the sides of the pool and submerge the floor of the chamber.
For a moment I did not fully grasp the terrible import of the slowly
rising water. It was Carthoris who realized the full meaning of the
thing—its cause and the reason for it.
“Haste!” he cried. “If we delay, we all are lost. The pumps of Omean
have been stopped. They would drown us like rats in a trap. We must
reach the upper levels of the pits in advance of the flood or we shall
never reach them. Come.”
“Lead the way, Carthoris,” I cried. “We will follow.”
At my command, the youth leaped into one of the corridors, and in
column of twos the soldiers followed him in good order, each company
entering the corridor only at the command of its dwar, or captain.
Before the last company filed from the chamber the water was ankle
deep, and that the men were nervous was quite evident. Entirely
unaccustomed to water except in quantities sufficient for drinking and
bathing purposes the red Martians instinctively shrank from it in such
formidable depths and menacing activity. That they were undaunted while
it swirled and eddied about their ankles, spoke well for their bravery
and their discipline.
I was the last to leave the chamber of the submarine, and as I followed
the rear of the column toward the corridor, I moved through water to my
knees. The corridor, too, was flooded to the same depth, for its floor
was on a level with the floor of the chamber from which it led, nor was
there any perceptible rise for many yards.
The march of the troops through the corridor was as rapid as was
consistent with the number of men that moved through so narrow a
passage, but it was not ample to permit us to gain appreciably on the
pursuing tide. As the level of the passage rose, so, too, did the
waters rise until it soon became apparent to me, who brought up the
rear, that they were gaining rapidly upon us. I could understand the
reason for this, as with the narrowing expanse of Omean as the waters
rose toward the apex of its dome, the rapidity of its rise would
increase in inverse ratio to the ever-lessening space to be filled.
Long ere the last of the column could hope to reach the upper pits
which lay above the danger point I was convinced that the waters would
surge after us in overwhelming volume, and that fully half the
expedition would be snuffed out.
As I cast about for some means of saving as many as possible of the
doomed men, I saw a diverging corridor which seemed to rise at a steep
angle at my right. The waters were now swirling about my waist. The men
directly before me were quickly becoming panic-stricken. Something must
be done at once or they would rush forward upon their fellows in a mad
stampede that would result in trampling down hundreds beneath the flood
and eventually clogging the passage beyond any hope of retreat for
those in advance.
Raising my voice to its utmost, I shouted my command to the dwars ahead
of me.
“Call back the last twenty-five utans,” I shouted. “Here seems a way of
escape. Turn back and follow me.”
My orders were obeyed by nearer thirty utans, so that some three
thousand men came about and hastened into the teeth of the flood to
reach the corridor up which I directed them.
As the first dwar passed in with his utan I cautioned him to listen
closely for my commands, and under no circumstances to venture into the
open, or leave the pits for the temple proper until I should have come
up with him, “or you know that I died before I could reach you.”
The officer saluted and left me. The men filed rapidly past me and
entered the diverging corridor which I hoped would lead to safety. The
water rose breast high. Men stumbled, floundered, and went down. Many I
grasped and set upon their feet again, but alone the work was greater
than I could cope with. Soldiers were being swept beneath the boiling
torrent, never to rise. At length the dwar of the 10th utan took a
stand beside me. He was a valorous soldier, Gur Tus by name, and
together we kept the now thoroughly frightened troops in the semblance
of order and rescued many that would have drowned otherwise.
Djor Kantos, son of Kantos Kan, and a padwar of the fifth utan joined
us when his utan reached the opening through which the men were
fleeing. Thereafter not a man was lost of all the hundreds that
remained to pass from the main corridor to the branch.
As the last utan was filing past us the waters had risen until they
surged about our necks, but we clasped hands and stood our ground until
the last man had passed to the comparative safety of the new
passageway. Here we found an immediate and steep ascent, so that within
a hundred yards we had reached a point above the waters.
For a few minutes we continued rapidly up the steep grade, which I
hoped would soon bring us quickly to the upper pits that let into the
Temple of Issus. But I was to meet with a cruel disappointment.
Suddenly I heard a cry of “fire” far ahead, followed almost at once by
cries of terror and the loud commands of dwars and padwars who were
evidently attempting to direct their men away from some grave danger.
At last the report came back to us. “They have fired the pits ahead.”
“We are hemmed in by flames in front and flood behind.” “Help, John
Carter; we are suffocating,” and then there swept back upon us at the
rear a wave of dense smoke that sent us, stumbling and blinded, into a
choking retreat.
There was naught to do other than seek a new avenue of escape. The fire
and smoke were to be feared a thousand times over the water, and so I
seized upon the first gallery which led out of and up from the
suffocating smoke that was engulfing us.
Again I stood to one side while the soldiers hastened through on the