Chapter 14 - Rewards
With the realization that Dejah Thoris was no longer within thethroneroom came the belated recollection of the dark face that Ihad glimpsed peering from behind the draperies that backed thethrone of Salensus Oll at the moment that I had first come sounexpectedly upon the strange scene being enacted within the chamber.
Why had the sight of that evil countenance not warned me togreater caution? Why had I permitted the rapid development ofnew situations to efface the recollection of that menacing danger?But, alas, vain regret would not erase the calamity that had befallen.
Once again had Dejah Thoris fallen into the clutches of thatarchfiend, Thurid, the black dator of the First Born. Again wasall my arduous labor gone for naught. Now I realized the cause ofthe rage that had been writ so large upon the features of MataiShang and the cruel pleasure that I had seen upon the face of Phaidor.
They had known or guessed the truth, and the hekkador of theHoly Therns, who had evidently come to the chamber in the hope ofthwarting Salensus Oll in his contemplated perfidy against the highpriest who coveted Dejah Thoris for himself, realized that Thuridhad stolen the prize from beneath his very nose.
Phaidor's pleasure had been due to her realization of whatthis last cruel blow would mean to me, as well as to a partialsatisfaction of her jealous hatred for the Princess of Helium.
My first thought was to look beyond the draperies at the backof the throne, for there it was that I had seen Thurid. With asingle jerk I tore the priceless stuff from its fastenings, andthere before me was revealed a narrow doorway behind the throne.
No question entered my mind but that here lay the opening ofthe avenue of escape which Thurid had followed, and had there beenit would have been dissipated by the sight of a tiny, jeweledornament which lay a few steps within the corridor beyond.
As I snatched up the bauble I saw that it bore the device ofthe Princess of Helium, and then pressing it to my lips I dashedmadly along the winding way that led gently downward toward thelower galleries of the palace.
I had followed but a short distance when I came upon the roomin which Solan formerly had held sway. His dead body still laywhere I had left it, nor was there any sign that another had passedthrough the room since I had been there; but I knew that two haddone so--Thurid, the black dator, and Dejah Thoris.
For a moment I paused uncertain as to which of the severalexits from the apartment would lead me upon the right path.I tried to recollect the directions which I had heard Thuridrepeat to Solan, and at last, slowly, as though through a heavy fog,the memory of the words of the First Born came to me:
"Follow a corridor, passing three diverging corridors upon the right;then into the fourth right-hand corridor to where three corridors meet;here again follow to the right, hugging the left wall closely to avoidthe pit. At the end of this corridor I shall come to a spiral runwaywhich I must follow down instead of up; after that the way is alongbut a single branchless corridor."
And I recalled the exit at which he had pointed as he spoke.
It did not take me long to start upon that unknown way, nor didI go with caution, although I knew that there might be gravedangers before me.
Part of the way was black as sin, but for the most it wasfairly well lighted. The stretch where I must hug the left wall toavoid the pits was darkest of them all, and I was nearly over theedge of the abyss before I knew that I was near the danger spot.A narrow ledge, scarce a foot wide, was all that had been leftto carry the initiated past that frightful cavity into which theunknowing must surely have toppled at the first step. But at lastI had won safely beyond it, and then a feeble light made thebalance of the way plain, until, at the end of the last corridor,I came suddenly out into the glare of day upon a field of snow and ice.
Clad for the warm atmosphere of the hothouse city of Kadabra,the sudden change to arctic frigidity was anything but pleasant;but the worst of it was that I knew I could not endure thebitter cold, almost naked as I was, and that I would perishbefore ever I could overtake Thurid and Dejah Thoris.
To be thus blocked by nature, who had had all the arts andwiles of cunning man pitted against him, seemed a cruel fate,and as I staggered back into the warmth of the tunnel's endI was as near hopelessness as I ever have been.
I had by no means given up my intention of continuing thepursuit, for if needs be I would go ahead though I perished ereever I reached my goal, but if there were a safer way it were wellworth the delay to attempt to discover it, that I might come againto the side of Dejah Thoris in fit condition to do battle for her.
Scarce had I returned to the tunnel than I stumbled over a portionof a fur garment that seemed fastened to the floor of the corridorclose to the wall. In the darkness I could not see what held it,but by groping with my hands I discovered that it was wedged beneaththe bottom of a closed door.
Pushing the portal aside, I found myself upon the threshold of asmall chamber, the walls of which were lined with hooks from whichdepended suits of the complete outdoor apparel of the yellow men.
Situated as it was at the mouth of a tunnel leading from the palace,it was quite evident that this was the dressing-room used by thenobles leaving and entering the hothouse city, and that Thurid,having knowledge of it, had stopped here to outfit himself andDejah Thoris before venturing into the bitter cold of thearctic world beyond.
In his haste he had dropped several garments upon the floor,and the telltale fur that had fallen partly within the corridor hadproved the means of guiding me to the very spot he would least havewished me to have knowledge of.
It required but the matter of a few seconds to don the necessaryorluk-skin clothing, with the heavy, fur-lined boots thatare so essential a part of the garmenture of one who wouldsuccessfully contend with the frozen trails and the icy windsof the bleak northland.
Once more I stepped beyond the tunnel's mouth to find thefresh tracks of Thurid and Dejah Thoris in the new-fallen snow.Now, at last, was my task an easy one, for though the going wasrough in the extreme, I was no longer vexed by doubts as to thedirection I should follow, or harassed by darkness or hidden dangers.
Through a snow-covered canyon the way led up toward the summitof low hills. Beyond these it dipped again into another canon,only to rise a quarter-mile farther on toward a pass which skirtedthe flank of a rocky hill.
I could see by the signs of those who had gone before that whenDejah Thoris had walked she had been continually holding back,and that the black man had been compelled to drag her. For otherstretches only his foot-prints were visible, deep and closetogether in the heavy snow, and I knew from these signs that thenhe had been forced to carry her, and I could well imagine that shehad fought him fiercely every step of the way.
As I came round the jutting promontory of the hill's shoulder Isaw that which quickened my pulses and set my heart to beating high,for within a tiny basin between the crest of this hill and the nextstood four people before the mouth of a great cave, and beside themupon the gleaming snow rested a flier which had evidently but justbeen dragged from its hiding place.
The four were Dejah Thoris, Phaidor, Thurid, and Matai Shang.The two men were engaged in a heated argument--the Father of Thernsthreatening, while the black scoffed at him as he went about thework at which he was engaged.
As I crept toward them cautiously that I might come as near aspossible before being discovered, I saw that finally the menappeared to have reached some sort of a compromise, for withPhaidor's assistance they both set about dragging the resistingDejah Thoris to the flier's deck.
Here they made her fast, and then both again descended to the groundto complete the preparations for departure. Phaidor entered thesmall cabin upon the vessel's deck.
I had come to within a quarter of a mile of them when Matai Shangespied me. I saw him seize Thurid by the shoulder, wheeling himaround in my direction as he pointed to where I was now plainlyvisible, for the moment that I knew I had been perceived I cast asideevery attempt at stealth and broke into a mad race for the flier.
The two redoubled their efforts at the propeller at whichthey were working, and which very evidently was being replacedafter having been removed for some purpose of repair.
They had the thing completed before I had covered half thedistance that lay between me and them, and then both made a rushfor the boarding-ladder.
Thurid was the first to reach it, and with the agility of amonkey clambered swiftly to the boat's deck, where a touch of thebutton controlling the buoyancy tanks sent the craft slowly upward,though not with the speed that marks the well-conditioned flier.
I was still some hundred yards away as I saw them rising from my grasp.
Back by the city of Kadabra lay a great fleet of mighty fliers--the ships of Helium and Ptarth that I had saved from destructionearlier in the day; but before ever I could reach them Thuridcould easily make good his escape.
As I ran I saw Matai Shang clambering up the swaying, swingingladder toward the deck, while above him leaned the evil face of theFirst Born. A trailing rope from the vessel's stern put new hopein me, for if I could but reach it before it whipped too high abovemy head there was yet a chance to gain the deck by its slender aid.
That there was something radically wrong with the flier was evidentfrom its lack of buoyancy, and the further fact that though Thuridhad turned twice to the starting lever the boat still hung motionlessin the air, except for a slight drifting with a low breeze from the north.
Now Matai Shang was close to the gunwale. A long, claw-likehand was reaching up to grasp the metal rail.
Thurid leaned farther down toward his co-conspirator.
Suddenly a raised dagger gleamed in the upflung hand of the black.Down it drove toward the white face of the Father of Therns.With a loud shriek of fear the Holy Hekkador grasped franticallyat that menacing arm.
I was almost to the trailing rope by now. The craft was stillrising slowly, the while it drifted from me. Then I stumbled onthe icy way, striking my head upon a rock as I fell sprawling butan arm's length from the rope, the end of which was now justleaving the ground.
With the blow upon my head came unconsciousness.
It could not have been more than a few seconds that I laysenseless there upon the northern ice, while all that wasdearest to me drifted farther from my reach in the clutches ofthat black fiend, for when I opened my eyes Thurid and Matai Shangyet battled at the ladder's top, and the flier drifted but ahundred yards farther to the south--but the end of the trailingrope was now a good thirty feet above the ground.
Goaded to madness by the cruel misfortune that had tripped mewhen success was almost within my grasp, I tore frantically acrossthe intervening space, and just beneath the rope's dangling end Iput my earthly muscles to the supreme test.
With a mighty, catlike bound I sprang upward toward that slenderstrand--the only avenue which yet remained that could carryme to my vanishing love.
A foot above its lowest end my fingers closed. Tightly as Iclung I felt the rope slipping, slipping through my grasp.I tried to raise my free hand to take a second hold above my first,but the change of position that resulted caused me to slip morerapidly toward the end of the rope.
Slowly I felt the tantalizing thing escaping me. In a moment allthat I had gained would be lost--then my fingers reached a knotat the very end of the rope and slipped no more.
With a prayer of gratitude upon my lips I scrambled upward towardthe boat's deck. I could not see Thurid and Matai Shang now,but I heard the sounds of conflict and thus knew that theystill fought--the thern for his life and the black for theincreased buoyancy that relief from the weight of even a singlebody would give the craft.
Should Matai Shang die before I reached the deck my chances ofever reaching it would be slender indeed, for the black dator needbut cut the rope above me to be freed from me forever, for thevessel had drifted across the brink of a chasm into whose yawningdepths my body would drop to be crushed to a shapeless pulp shouldThurid reach the rope now.
At last my hand closed upon the ship's rail and that veryinstant a horrid shriek rang out below me that sent my blood coldand turned my horrified eyes downward to a shrieking, hurtling,twisting thing that shot downward into the awful chasm beneath me.
It was Matai Shang, Holy Hekkador, Father of Therns, gone tohis last accounting.
Then my head came above the deck and I saw Thurid, dagger in hand,leaping toward me. He was opposite the forward end of the cabin,while I was attempting to clamber aboard near the vessel's stern.But a few paces lay between us. No power on earth could raise meto that deck before the infuriated black would be upon me.
My end had come. I knew it; but had there been a doubt in mymind the nasty leer of triumph upon that wicked face would haveconvinced me. Beyond Thurid I could see my Dejah Thoris, wide-eyedand horrified, struggling at her bonds. That she should be forcedto witness my awful death made my bitter fate seem doubly cruel.
I ceased my efforts to climb across the gunwale. Instead I tooka firm grasp upon the rail with my left hand and drew my dagger.
I should at least die as I had lived--fighting.
As Thurid came opposite the cabin's doorway a new elementprojected itself into the grim tragedy of the air that wasbeing enacted upon the deck of Matai Shang's disabled flier.
It was Phaidor.
With flushed face and disheveled hair, and eyes that betrayedthe recent presence of mortal tears--above which this proud goddesshad always held herself--she leaped to the deck directly before me.
In her hand was a long, slim dagger. I cast a last look uponmy beloved princess, smiling, as men should who are about to die.Then I turned my face up toward Phaidor--waiting for the blow.
Never have I seen that beautiful face more beautiful than itwas at that moment. It seemed incredible that one so lovely couldyet harbor within her fair bosom a heart so cruel and relentless,and today there was a new expression in her wondrous eyes that I neverbefore had seen there--an unfamiliar softness, and a look of suffering.
Thurid was beside her now--pushing past to reach me first, and thenwhat happened happened so quickly that it was all over before I couldrealize the truth of it.
Phaidor's slim hand shot out to close upon the black's dagger wrist.Her right hand went high with its gleaming blade.
"That for Matai Shang!" she cried, and she buried her bladedeep in the dator's breast. "That for the wrong you would have doneDejah Thoris!" and again the sharp steel sank into the bloody flesh.
"And that, and that, and that!" she shrieked, "for John Carter,Prince of Helium," and with each word her sharp point piercedthe vile heart of the great villain. Then, with a vindictiveshove she cast the carcass of the First Born from the deck tofall in awful silence after the body of his victim.
I had been so paralyzed by surprise that I had made no move to reachthe deck during the awe-inspiring scene which I had just witnessed,and now I was to be still further amazed by her next act, for Phaidorextended her hand to me and assisted me to the deck, where I stoodgazing at her in unconcealed and stupefied wonderment.
A wan smile touched her lips--it was not the cruel and haughtysmile of the goddess with which I was familiar. "You wonder,John Carter," she said, "what strange thing has wrought thischange in me? I will tell you. It is love--love of you,"and when I darkened my brows in disapproval of her wordsshe raised an appealing hand.
"Wait," she said. "It is a different love from mine--it isthe love of your princess, Dejah Thoris, for you that has taughtme what true love may be--what it should be, and how far fromreal love was my selfish and jealous passion for you.
"Now I am different. Now could I love as Dejah Thoris loves,and so my only happiness can be to know that you and she are oncemore united, for in her alone can you find true happiness.
"But I am unhappy because of the wickedness that I have wrought.I have many sins to expiate, and though I be deathless, life isall too short for the atonement.
"But there is another way, and if Phaidor, daughter of theHoly Hekkador of the Holy Therns, has sinned she has this dayalready made partial reparation, and lest you doubt the sincerityof her protestations and her avowal of a new love that embracesDejah Thoris also, she will prove her sincerity in the only waythat lies open--having saved you for another, Phaidor leaves youto her embraces."
With her last word she turned and leaped from the vessel'sdeck into the abyss below.
With a cry of horror I sprang forward in a vain attempt tosave the life that for two years I would so gladly have seenextinguished. I was too late.
With tear-dimmed eyes I turned away that I might not see theawful sight beneath.
A moment later I had struck the bonds from Dejah Thoris, and asher dear arms went about my neck and her perfect lips pressed tomine I forgot the horrors that I had witnessed and the sufferingthat I had endured in the rapture of my reward.