Thuvia, maid of Mars
lie half the navy of Dusar, for in this direction was the reported seat
of the great naval battle that even now might be in progress.
Could Carthoris have known precisely where the great fleets of the
contending nations lay, he would have hastened to them without delay,
for in the return of Thuvia to her sire lay the greatest hope of peace.
Half the distance they covered without sighting a single warship, and
then Kar Komak called Carthoris’ attention to a distant craft that
rested upon the ochre vegetation of the great dead sea-bottom, above
which the _Thuria_ was speeding.
About the vessel many figures could be seen swarming. With the aid of
powerful glasses, the Heliumite saw that they were green warriors, and
that they were repeatedly charging down upon the crew of the stranded
airship. The nationality of the latter he could not make out at so
great a distance.
It was not necessary to change the course of the _Thuria_ to permit of
passing directly above the scene of battle, but Carthoris dropped his
craft a few hundred feet that he might have a better and closer view.
If the ship was of a friendly power, he could do no less than stop and
direct his guns upon her enemies, though with the precious freight he
carried he scarcely felt justified in landing, for he could offer but
two swords in reinforcement—scarce enough to warrant jeopardizing the
safety of the Princess of Ptarth.
As they came close above the stricken ship, they could see that it
would be but a question of minutes before the green horde would swarm
across the armoured bulwarks to glut the ferocity of their bloodlust
upon the defenders.
“It would be futile to descend,” said Carthoris to Thuvia. “The craft
may even be of Dusar—she shows no insignia. All that we may do is fire
upon the hordesmen”; and as he spoke he stepped to one of the guns and
deflected its muzzle toward the green warriors at the ship’s side.
At the first shot from the _Thuria_ those upon the vessel below
evidently discovered her for the first time. Immediately a device
fluttered from the bow of the warship on the ground. Thuvia of Ptarth
caught her breath quickly, glancing at Carthoris.
The device was that of Kulan Tith, Jeddak of Kaol—the man to whom the
Princess of Ptarth was betrothed!
How easy for the Heliumite to pass on, leaving his rival to the fate
that could not for long be averted! No man could accuse him of
cowardice or treachery, for Kulan Tith was in arms against Helium, and,
further, upon the _Thuria_ were not enough swords to delay even
temporarily the outcome that already was a foregone conclusion in the
minds of the watchers.
What would Carthoris, Prince of Helium, do?
Scarce had the device broken to the faint breeze ere the bow of the
_Thuria_ dropped at a sharp angle toward the ground.
“Can you navigate her?” asked Carthoris of Thuvia.
The girl nodded.
“I am going to try to take the survivors aboard,” he continued. “It
will need both Kar Komak and myself to man the guns while the Kaolians
take to the boarding tackle. Keep her bow depressed against the rifle
fire. She can bear it better in her forward armour, and at the same
time the propellers will be protected.”
He hurried to the cabin as Thuvia took the control. A moment later the
boarding tackle dropped from the keel of the _Thuria_, and from a dozen
points along either side stout, knotted leathern lines trailed
downward. At the same time a signal broke from her bow:
“Prepare to board us.”
A shout arose from the deck of the Kaolian warship. Carthoris, who by
this time had returned from the cabin, smiled sadly. He was about to
snatch from the jaws of death the man who stood between himself and the
woman he loved.
“Take the port bow gun, Kar Komak,” he called to the bowman, and
himself stepped to the gun upon the starboard bow.
They could now feel the sharp shock of the explosions of the green
warriors’ projectiles against the armoured sides of the staunch
_Thuria_.
It was a forlorn hope at best. At any moment the repulsive ray tanks
might be pierced. The men upon the Kaolian ship were battling with
renewed hope. In the bow stood Kulan Tith, a brave figure fighting
beside his brave warriors, beating back the ferocious green men.
The _Thuria_ came low above the other craft. The Kaolians were forming
under their officers in readiness to board, and then a sudden fierce
fusillade from the rifles of the green warriors vomited their hail of
death and destruction into the side of the brave flier.
Like a wounded bird she dived suddenly Marsward careening drunkenly.
Thuvia turned the bow upward in an effort to avert the imminent
tragedy, but she succeeded only in lessening the shock of the flier’s
impact as she struck the ground beside the Kaolian ship.
When the green men saw only two warriors and a woman upon the deck of
the _Thuria_, a savage shout of triumph arose from their ranks, while
an answering groan broke from the lips of the Kaolians.
The former now turned their attention upon the new arrival, for they
saw her defenders could soon be overcome and that from her deck they
could command the deck of the better-manned ship.
As they charged a shout of warning came from Kulan Tith, upon the
bridge of his own ship, and with it an appreciation of the valour of
the act that had put the smaller vessel in these sore straits.
“Who is it,” he cried, “that offers his life in the service of Kulan
Tith? Never was wrought a nobler deed of self-sacrifice upon Barsoom!”
The green horde was scrambling over the _Thuria_’s side as there broke
from the bow the device of Carthoris, Prince of Helium, in reply to the
query of the jeddak of Kaol. None upon the smaller flier had
opportunity to note the effect of this announcement upon the Kaolians,
for their attention was claimed slowly now by that which was
transpiring upon their own deck.
Kar Komak stood behind the gun he had been operating, staring with wide
eyes at the onrushing hideous green warriors. Carthoris, seeing him
thus, felt a pang of regret that, after all, this man that he had
thought so valorous should prove, in the hour of need, as spineless as
Jav or Tario.
“Kar Komak—the man!” he shouted. “Grip yourself! Remember the days of
the glory of the seafarers of Lothar. Fight! Fight, man! Fight as never
man fought before. All that remains to us is to die fighting.”
Kar Komak turned toward the Heliumite, a grim smile upon his lips.
“Why should we fight,” he asked. “Against such fearful odds? There is
another way—a better way. Look!” He pointed toward the companion-way
that led below deck.
The green men, a handful of them, had already reached the _Thuria_’s
deck, as Carthoris glanced in the direction the Lotharian had
indicated. The sight that met his eyes set his heart to thumping in joy
and relief—Thuvia of Ptarth might yet be saved? For from below there
poured a stream of giant bowmen, grim and terrible. Not the bowmen of
Tario or Jav, but the bowmen of an odwar of bowmen—savage fighting men,
eager for the fray.
The green warriors paused in momentary surprise and consternation, but
only for a moment. Then with horrid war-cries they leaped forward to
meet these strange, new foemen.
A volley of arrows stopped them in their tracks. In a moment the only
green warriors upon the deck of the _Thuria_ were dead warriors, and
the bowmen of Kar Komak were leaping over the vessel’s sides to charge
the hordesmen upon the ground.
Utan after utan tumbled from the bowels of the _Thuria_ to launch
themselves upon the unfortunate green men. Kulan Tith and his Kaolians
stood wide-eyed and speechless with amazement as they saw thousands of
these strange, fierce warriors emerge from the companion-way of the
small craft that could not comfortably have accommodated more than
fifty.
At last the green men could withstand the onslaught of overwhelming
numbers no longer. Slowly, at first, they fell back across the ochre
plain. The bowmen pursued them. Kar Komak, standing upon the deck of
the _Thuria_, trembled with excitement.
At the top of his lungs he voiced the savage war-cry of his forgotten
day. He roared encouragement and commands at his battling utans, and
then, as they charged further and further from the _Thuria_, he could
no longer withstand the lure of battle.
Leaping over the ship’s side to the ground, he joined the last of his
bowmen as they raced off over the dead sea-bottom in pursuit of the
fleeing green horde.
Beyond a low promontory of what once had been an island the green men
were disappearing toward the west. Close upon their heels raced the
fleet bowmen of a bygone day, and forging steadily ahead among them
Carthoris and Thuvia could see the mighty figure of Kar Komak,
brandishing aloft the Torquasian short-sword with which he was armed,
as he urged his creatures after the retreating enemy.
As the last of them disappeared behind the promontory, Carthoris turned
toward Thuvia of Ptarth.
“They have taught me a lesson, these vanishing bowmen of Lothar,” he
said. “When they have served their purpose they remain not to embarrass
their masters by their presence. Kulan Tith and his warriors are here
to protect you. My acts have constituted the proof of my honesty of
purpose. Good-bye,” and he knelt at her feet, raising a bit of her
harness to his lips.
The girl reached out a hand and laid it upon the thick black hair of
the head bent before her. Softly she asked:
“Where are you going, Carthoris?”
“With Kar Komak, the bowman,” he replied. “There will be fighting and
forgetfulness.”
The girl put her hands before her eyes, as though to shut out some
mighty temptation from her sight.
“May my ancestors have mercy upon me,” she cried, “if I say the thing I
have no right to say; but I cannot see you cast your life away,
Carthoris, Prince of Helium! Stay, my chieftain. Stay—I love you!”
A cough behind them brought both about, and there they saw standing,
not two paces from them Kulan Tith, Jeddak of Kaol.
For a long moment none spoke. Then Kulan Tith cleared his throat.
“I could not help hearing all that passed,” he said. “I am no fool, to
be blind to the love that lies between you. Nor am I blind to the lofty
honour that has caused you, Carthoris, to risk your life and hers to
save mine, though you thought that that very act would rob you of the
chance to keep her for your own.
“Nor can I fail to appreciate the virtue that has kept your lips sealed
against words of love for this Heliumite, Thuvia, for I know that I
have but just heard the first declaration of your passion for him. I do
not condemn you. Rather should I have condemned you had you entered a
loveless marriage with me.
“Take back your liberty, Thuvia of Ptarth,” he cried, “and bestow it
where your heart already lies enchained, and when the golden collars
are clasped about your necks you will see that Kulan Tith’s is the
first sword to be raised in declaration of eternal friendship for the
new Princess of Helium and her royal mate!”
A GLOSSARY OF NAMES AND TERMS USED IN THE MARTIAN BOOKS
Aaanthor. A dead city of ancient Mars.
Aisle of Hope. An aisle leading to the court-room in Helium.
Apt. An Arctic monster. A huge, white-furred creature with six limbs,
four of which, short and heavy, carry it over the snow and ice; the
other two, which grow forward from its shoulders on either side of its
long, powerful neck, terminate in white, hairless hands with which it
seizes and holds its prey. Its head and mouth are similar in appearance
to those of a hippopotamus, except that from the sides of the lower
jawbone two mighty horns curve slightly downward toward the front. Its
two huge eyes extend in two vast oval patches from the centre of the