The warlord of Mars
the vessels disembarked their crews. At the city of Kaol we visited,
cementing the new ties that had been formed between Kaol and Helium,
and then one long-to-be-remembered day we sighted the tall, thin towers
of the twin cities of Helium.
The people had long been preparing for our coming. The sky was gorgeous
with gaily trimmed fliers. Every roof within both cities was spread
with costly silks and tapestries.
Gold and jewels were scattered over roof and street and plaza, so that
the two cities seemed ablaze with the fires of the hearts of the
magnificent stones and burnished metal that reflected the brilliant
sunlight, changing it into countless glorious hues.
At last, after twelve years, the royal family of Helium was reunited in
their own mighty city, surrounded by joy-mad millions before the palace
gates. Women and children and mighty warriors wept in gratitude for the
fate that had restored their beloved Tardos Mors and the divine
princess whom the whole nation idolized. Nor did any of us who had been
upon that expedition of indescribable danger and glory lack for
plaudits.
That night a messenger came to me as I sat with Dejah Thoris and
Carthoris upon the roof of my city palace, where we had long since
caused a lovely garden to be made that we three might find seclusion
and quiet happiness among ourselves, far from the pomp and ceremony of
court, to summon us to the Temple of Reward—“where one is to be judged
this night,” the summons concluded.
I racked my brain to try and determine what important case there might
be pending which could call the royal family from their palaces on the
eve of their return to Helium after years of absence; but when the
jeddak summons no man delays.
As our flier touched the landing stage at the temple’s top we saw
countless other craft arriving and departing. In the streets below a
great multitude surged toward the great gates of the temple.
Slowly there came to me the recollection of the deferred doom that
awaited me since that time I had been tried here in the Temple by Zat
Arras for the sin of returning from the Valley Dor and the Lost Sea of
Korus.
Could it be possible that the strict sense of justice which dominates
the men of Mars had caused them to overlook the great good that had
come out of my heresy? Could they ignore the fact that to me, and me
alone, was due the rescue of Carthoris, of Dejah Thoris, of Mors Kajak,
of Tardos Mors?
I could not believe it, and yet for what other purpose could I have
been summoned to the Temple of Reward immediately upon the return of
Tardos Mors to his throne?
My first surprise as I entered the temple and approached the Throne of
Righteousness was to note the men who sat there as judges. There was
Kulan Tith, Jeddak of Kaol, whom we had but just left within his own
palace a few days since; there was Thuvan Dihn, Jeddak of Ptarth—how
came he to Helium as soon as we?
There was Tars Tarkas, Jeddak of Thark, and Xodar, Jeddak of the First
Born; there was Talu, Jeddak of Jeddaks of the North, whom I could have
sworn was still in his ice-bound hothouse city beyond the northern
barrier, and among them sat Tardos Mors and Mors Kajak, with enough
lesser jeds and jeddaks to make up the thirty-one who must sit in
judgment upon their fellow-man.
A right royal tribunal indeed, and such a one, I warrant, as never
before sat together during all the history of ancient Mars.
As I entered, silence fell upon the great concourse of people that
packed the auditorium. Then Tardos Mors arose.
“John Carter,” he said in his deep, martial voice, “take your place
upon the Pedestal of Truth, for you are to be tried by a fair and
impartial tribunal of your fellow-men.”
With level eye and high-held head I did as he bade, and as I glanced
about that circle of faces that a moment before I could have sworn
contained the best friends I had upon Barsoom, I saw no single friendly
glance—only stern, uncompromising judges, there to do their duty.
A clerk rose and from a great book read a long list of the more notable
deeds that I had thought to my credit, covering a long period of
twenty-two years since first I had stepped the ocher sea bottom beside
the incubator of the Tharks. With the others he read of all that I had
done within the circle of the Otz Mountains where the Holy Therns and
the First Born had held sway.
It is the way upon Barsoom to recite a man’s virtues with his sins when
he is come to trial, and so I was not surprised that all that was to my
credit should be read there to my judges—who knew it all by heart—even
down to the present moment. When the reading had ceased Tardos Mors
arose.
“Most righteous judges,” he exclaimed, “you have heard recited all that
is known of John Carter, Prince of Helium—the good with the bad. What
is your judgment?”
Then Tars Tarkas came slowly to his feet, unfolding all his mighty,
towering height until he loomed, a green-bronze statue, far above us
all. He turned a baleful eye upon me—he, Tars Tarkas, with whom I had
fought through countless battles; whom I loved as a brother.
I could have wept had I not been so mad with rage that I almost whipped
my sword out and had at them all upon the spot.
“Judges,” he said, “there can be but one verdict. No longer may John
Carter be Prince of Helium”—he paused—“but instead let him be Jeddak of
Jeddaks, Warlord of Barsoom!”
As the thirty-one judges sprang to their feet with drawn and upraised
swords in unanimous concurrence in the verdict, the storm broke
throughout the length and breadth and height of that mighty building
until I thought the roof would fall from the thunder of the mad
shouting.
Now, at last, I saw the grim humor of the method they had adopted to do
me this great honor, but that there was any hoax in the reality of the
title they had conferred upon me was readily disproved by the sincerity
of the congratulations that were heaped upon me by the judges first and
then the nobles.
Presently fifty of the mightiest nobles of the greatest courts of Mars
marched down the broad Aisle of Hope bearing a splendid car upon their
shoulders, and as the people saw who sat within, the cheers that had
rung out for me paled into insignificance beside those which thundered
through the vast edifice now, for she whom the nobles carried was Dejah
Thoris, beloved Princess of Helium.
Straight to the Throne of Righteousness they bore her, and there Tardos
Mors assisted her from the car, leading her forward to my side.
“Let a world’s most beautiful woman share the honor of her husband,” he
said.
Before them all I drew my wife close to me and kissed her upon the
lips.