Thuvia, Maid of Mars Read online

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  Thuvia, Maid of Mars

  By

  Edgar Rice Burroughs

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER

  I Carthoris and Thuvia II Slavery III Treachery IV A Green Man's Captive V The Fair Race VI The Jeddak of Lothar VII The Phantom Bowmen VIII The Hall of Doom IX The Battle in the Plain X Kar Komak, the Bowman XI Green Men and White Apes XII To Save Dusar XIII Turjun, the Panthan XIV Kulan Tith's Sacrifice Glossary of Names and Terms

  THUVIA, MAID OF MARS

  CHAPTER I

  CARTHORIS AND THUVIA

  Upon a massive bench of polished ersite beneath the gorgeous bloomsof a giant pimalia a woman sat. Her shapely, sandalled foot tappedimpatiently upon the jewel-strewn walk that wound beneath thestately sorapus trees across the scarlet sward of the royal gardensof Thuvan Dihn, Jeddak of Ptarth, as a dark-haired, red-skinnedwarrior bent low toward her, whispering heated words close to herear.

  "Ah, Thuvia of Ptarth," he cried, "you are cold even before thefiery blasts of my consuming love! No harder than your heart, norcolder is the hard, cold ersite of this thrice happy bench whichsupports your divine and fadeless form! Tell me, O Thuvia ofPtarth, that I may still hope--that though you do not love me now,yet some day, some day, my princess, I--"

  The girl sprang to her feet with an exclamation of surprise anddispleasure. Her queenly head was poised haughtily upon her smoothred shoulders. Her dark eyes looked angrily into those of the man.

  "You forget yourself, and the customs of Barsoom, Astok," she said."I have given you no right thus to address the daughter of ThuvanDihn, nor have you won such a right."

  The man reached suddenly forth and grasped her by the arm.

  "You shall be my princess!" he cried. "By the breast of Issus, thoushalt, nor shall any other come between Astok, Prince of Dusar,and his heart's desire. Tell me that there is another, and I shallcut out his foul heart and fling it to the wild calots of the deadsea-bottoms!"

  At touch of the man's hand upon her flesh the girl went pallidbeneath her coppery skin, for the persons of the royal women ofthe courts of Mars are held but little less than sacred. The actof Astok, Prince of Dusar, was profanation. There was no terrorin the eyes of Thuvia of Ptarth--only horror for the thing the manhad done and for its possible consequences.

  "Release me." Her voice was level--frigid.

  The man muttered incoherently and drew her roughly toward him.

  "Release me!" she repeated sharply, "or I call the guard, and thePrince of Dusar knows what that will mean."

  Quickly he threw his right arm about her shoulders and strove todraw her face to his lips. With a little cry she struck him fullin the mouth with the massive bracelets that circled her free arm.

  "Calot!" she exclaimed, and then: "The guard! The guard! Hastenin protection of the Princess of Ptarth!"

  In answer to her call a dozen guardsmen came racing across thescarlet sward, their gleaming long-swords naked in the sun, themetal of their accoutrements clanking against that of their leathernharness, and in their throats hoarse shouts of rage at the sightwhich met their eyes.

  But before they had passed half across the royal garden to whereAstok of Dusar still held the struggling girl in his grasp, anotherfigure sprang from a cluster of dense foliage that half hid a goldenfountain close at hand. A tall, straight youth he was, with blackhair and keen grey eyes; broad of shoulder and narrow of hip; aclean-limbed fighting man. His skin was but faintly tinged withthe copper colour that marks the red men of Mars from the otherraces of the dying planet--he was like them, and yet there was asubtle difference greater even than that which lay in his lighterskin and his grey eyes.

  There was a difference, too, in his movements. He came on in greatleaps that carried him so swiftly over the ground that the speedof the guardsmen was as nothing by comparison.

  Astok still clutched Thuvia's wrist as the young warrior confrontedhim. The new-comer wasted no time and he spoke but a single word.

  "Calot!" he snapped, and then his clenched fist landed beneath theother's chin, lifting him high into the air and depositing him ina crumpled heap within the centre of the pimalia bush beside theersite bench.

  Her champion turned toward the girl. "Kaor, Thuvia of Ptarth!" hecried. "It seems that fate timed my visit well."

  "Kaor, Carthoris of Helium!" the princess returned the young man'sgreeting, "and what less could one expect of the son of such asire?"

  He bowed his acknowledgment of the compliment to his father, JohnCarter, Warlord of Mars. And then the guardsmen, panting fromtheir charge, came up just as the Prince of Dusar, bleeding at themouth, and with drawn sword, crawled from the entanglement of thepimalia.

  Astok would have leaped to mortal combat with the son of DejahThoris, but the guardsmen pressed about him, preventing, though itwas clearly evident that naught would have better pleased Carthorisof Helium.

  "But say the word, Thuvia of Ptarth," he begged, "and naught willgive me greater pleasure than meting to this fellow the punishmenthe has earned."

  "It cannot be, Carthoris," she replied. "Even though he has forfeitedall claim upon my consideration, yet is he the guest of the jeddak,my father, and to him alone may he account for the unpardonableact he has committed."

  "As you say, Thuvia," replied the Heliumite. "But afterward heshall account to Carthoris, Prince of Helium, for this affront tothe daughter of my father's friend." As he spoke, though, thereburned in his eyes a fire that proclaimed a nearer, dearer causefor his championship of this glorious daughter of Barsoom.

  The maid's cheek darkened beneath the satin of her transparent skin,and the eyes of Astok, Prince of Dusar, darkened, too, as he readthat which passed unspoken between the two in the royal gardens ofthe jeddak.

  "And thou to me," he snapped at Carthoris, answering the youngman's challenge.

  The guard still surrounded Astok. It was a difficult position forthe young officer who commanded it. His prisoner was the son of amighty jeddak; he was the guest of Thuvan Dihn--until but now anhonoured guest upon whom every royal dignity had been showered.To arrest him forcibly could mean naught else than war, and yet hehad done that which in the eyes of the Ptarth warrior merited death.

  The young man hesitated. He looked toward his princess. She, too,guessed all that hung upon the action of the coming moment. Formany years Dusar and Ptarth had been at peace with each other.Their great merchant ships plied back and forth between the largercities of the two nations. Even now, far above the gold-shotscarlet dome of the jeddak's palace, she could see the huge bulkof a giant freighter taking its majestic way through the thinBarsoomian air toward the west and Dusar.

  By a word she might plunge these two mighty nations into a bloodyconflict that would drain them of their bravest blood and theirincalculable riches, leaving them all helpless against the inroadsof their envious and less powerful neighbors, and at last a preyto the savage green hordes of the dead sea-bottoms.

  No sense of fear influenced her decision, for fear is seldom knownto the children of Mars. It was rather a sense of the responsibilitythat she, the daughter of their jeddak, felt for the welfare ofher father's people.

  "I called you, Padwar," she said to the lieutenant of the guard,"to protect the person of your princess, and to keep the peacethat must not be violated within the royal gardens of the jeddak.That is all. You will escort me to the palace, and the Prince ofHelium will accompany me."

  Without another glance in the direction of Astok she turned, andtaking Carthoris' proffered hand, moved slowly toward the massivemarble pile that housed the ruler of Ptarth and his glitteringcourt.
On either side marched a file of guardsmen. Thus Thuviaof Ptarth found a way out of a dilemma, escaping the necessityof placing her father's royal guest under forcible restraint, andat the same time separating the two princes, who otherwise wouldhave been at each other's throat the moment she and the guard haddeparted.

  Beside the pimalia stood Astok, his dark eyes narrowed to mere slitsof hate beneath his lowering brows as he watched the retreatingforms of the woman who had aroused the fiercest passions of hisnature and the man whom he now believed to be the one who stoodbetween his love and its consummation.

  As they disappeared within the structure Astok shrugged his shoulders,and with a murmured oath crossed the gardens toward another wingof the building where he and his retinue were housed.

  That night he took formal leave of Thuvan Dihn, and though nomention was made of the happening within the garden, it was plainto see through the cold mask of the jeddak's courtesy that onlythe customs of royal hospitality restrained him from voicing thecontempt he felt for the Prince of Dusar.

  Carthoris was not present at the leave-taking, nor was Thuvia. Theceremony was as stiff and formal as court etiquette could make it,and when the last of the Dusarians clambered over the rail of thebattleship that had brought them upon this fateful visit to thecourt of Ptarth, and the mighty engine of destruction had risenslowly from the ways of the landing-stage, a note of relief wasapparent in the voice of Thuvan Dihn as he turned to one of hisofficers with a word of comment upon a subject foreign to thatwhich had been uppermost in the minds of all for hours.

  But, after all, was it so foreign?

  "Inform Prince Sovan," he directed, "that it is our wish that thefleet which departed for Kaol this morning be recalled to cruiseto the west of Ptarth."

  As the warship, bearing Astok back to the court of his father,turned toward the west, Thuvia of Ptarth, sitting upon the samebench where the Prince of Dusar had affronted her, watched thetwinkling lights of the craft growing smaller in the distance.Beside her, in the brilliant light of the nearer moon, sat Carthoris.His eyes were not upon the dim bulk of the battleship, but on theprofile of the girl's upturned face.

  "Thuvia," he whispered.

  The girl turned her eyes toward his. His hand stole out to findhers, but she drew her own gently away.

  "Thuvia of Ptarth, I love you!" cried the young warrior. "Tell methat it does not offend."

  She shook her head sadly. "The love of Carthoris of Helium," shesaid simply, "could be naught but an honour to any woman; but youmust not speak, my friend, of bestowing upon me that which I maynot reciprocate."

  The young man got slowly to his feet. His eyes were wide inastonishment. It never had occurred to the Prince of Helium thatThuvia of Ptarth might love another.

  "But at Kadabra!" he exclaimed. "And later here at your father'scourt, what did you do, Thuvia of Ptarth, that might have warnedme that you could not return my love?"

  "And what did I do, Carthoris of Helium," she returned, "that mightlead you to believe that I DID return it?"

  He paused in thought, and then shook his head. "Nothing, Thuvia,that is true; yet I could have sworn you loved me. Indeed, youwell knew how near to worship has been my love for you."

  "And how might I know it, Carthoris?" she asked innocently. "Didyou ever tell me as much? Ever before have words of love for mefallen from your lips?"

  "But you MUST have known it!" he exclaimed. "I am like myfather--witless in matters of the heart, and of a poor way withwomen; yet the jewels that strew these royal garden paths--thetrees, the flowers, the sward--all must have read the love that hasfilled my heart since first my eyes were made new by imaging yourperfect face and form; so how could you alone have been blind toit?"

  "Do the maids of Helium pay court to their men?" asked Thuvia.

  "You are playing with me!" exclaimed Carthoris. "Say that you arebut playing, and that after all you love me, Thuvia!"

  "I cannot tell you that, Carthoris, for I am promised to another."

  Her tone was level, but was there not within it the hint of aninfinite depth of sadness? Who may say?

  "Promised to another?" Carthoris scarcely breathed the words. Hisface went almost white, and then his head came up as befitted himin whose veins flowed the blood of the overlord of a world.

  "Carthoris of Helium wishes you every happiness with the man ofyour choice," he said. "With--" and then he hesitated, waitingfor her to fill in the name.

  "Kulan Tith, Jeddak of Kaol," she replied. "My father's friendand Ptarth's most puissant ally."

  The young man looked at her intently for a moment before he spokeagain.

  "You love him, Thuvia of Ptarth?" he asked.

  "I am promised to him," she replied simply.

  He did not press her. "He is of Barsoom's noblest blood and mightiestfighters," mused Carthoris. "My father's friend and mine--wouldthat it might have been another!" he muttered almost savagely. Whatthe girl thought was hidden by the mask of her expression, whichwas tinged only by a little shadow of sadness that might have beenfor Carthoris, herself, or for them both.

  Carthoris of Helium did not ask, though he noted it, for hisloyalty to Kulan Tith was the loyalty of the blood of John Carterof Virginia for a friend, greater than which could be no loyalty.

  He raised a jewel-encrusted bit of the girl's magnificent trappingsto his lips.

  "To the honour and happiness of Kulan Tith and the priceless jewelthat has been bestowed upon him," he said, and though his voicewas husky there was the true ring of sincerity in it. "I told youthat I loved you, Thuvia, before I knew that you were promised toanother. I may not tell you it again, but I am glad that you knowit, for there is no dishonour in it either to you or to Kulan Tithor to myself. My love is such that it may embrace as well KulanTith--if you love him." There was almost a question in the statement.

  "I am promised to him," she replied.

  Carthoris backed slowly away. He laid one hand upon his heart,the other upon the pommel of his long-sword.

  "These are yours--always," he said. A moment later he had enteredthe palace, and was gone from the girl's sight.

  Had he returned at once he would have found her prone upon theersite bench, her face buried in her arms. Was she weeping? Therewas none to see.

  Carthoris of Helium had come all unannounced to the court of hisfather's friend that day. He had come alone in a small flier, sureof the same welcome that always awaited him at Ptarth. As therehad been no formality in his coming there was no need of formalityin his going.

  To Thuvan Dihn he explained that he had been but testing an inventionof his own with which his flier was equipped--a clever improvementof the ordinary Martian air compass, which, when set for a certaindestination, will remain constantly fixed thereon, making it onlynecessary to keep a vessel's prow always in the direction of thecompass needle to reach any given point upon Barsoom by the shortestroute.

  Carthoris' improvement upon this consisted of an auxiliary devicewhich steered the craft mechanically in the direction of thecompass, and upon arrival directly over the point for which thecompass was set, brought the craft to a standstill and lowered it,also automatically, to the ground.

  "You readily discern the advantages of this invention," he was sayingto Thuvan Dihn, who had accompanied him to the landing-stage uponthe palace roof to inspect the compass and bid his young friendfarewell.

  A dozen officers of the court with several body servants weregrouped behind the jeddak and his guest, eager listeners to theconversation--so eager on the part of one of the servants that hewas twice rebuked by a noble for his forwardness in pushing himselfahead of his betters to view the intricate mechanism of the wonderful"controlling destination compass," as the thing was called.

  "For example," continued Carthoris, "I have an all-night trip beforeme, as to-night. I set the pointer here upon the right-hand dialwhich represents the eastern hemisphere of Barsoom, so that thepoint rests upon the exact latitude and longitude of Heli
um. ThenI start the engine, roll up in my sleeping silks and furs, and withlights burning, race through the air toward Helium, confident thatat the appointed hour I shall drop gently toward the landing-stageupon my own palace, whether I am still asleep or no."

  "Provided," suggested Thuvan Dihn, "you do not chance to collidewith some other night wanderer in the meanwhile."

  Carthoris smiled. "No danger of that," he replied. "See here,"and he indicated a device at the right of the destination compass."This is my 'obstruction evader,' as I call it. This visible deviceis the switch which throws the mechanism on or off. The instrumentitself is below deck, geared both to the steering apparatus andthe control levers.

  "It is quite simple, being nothing more than a radium generatordiffusing radio-activity in all directions to a distance of ahundred yards or so from the flier. Should this enveloping forcebe interrupted in any direction a delicate instrument immediatelyapprehends the irregularity, at the same time imparting an impulseto a magnetic device which in turn actuates the steering mechanism,diverting the bow of the flier away from the obstacle until the craft'sradio-activity sphere is no longer in contact with the obstruction,then she falls once more into her normal course. Should thedisturbance approach from the rear, as in case of a faster-movingcraft overhauling me, the mechanism actuates the speed control aswell as the steering gear, and the flier shoots ahead and eitherup or down, as the oncoming vessel is upon a lower or higher planethan herself.

  "In aggravated cases, that is when the obstructions are many, orof such a nature as to deflect the bow more than forty-five degreesin any direction, or when the craft has reached its destinationand dropped to within a hundred yards of the ground, the mechanismbrings her to a full stop, at the same time sounding a loud alarmwhich will instantly awaken the pilot. You see I have anticipatedalmost every contingency."

  Thuvan Dihn smiled his appreciation of the marvellous device. Theforward servant pushed almost to the flier's side. His eyes werenarrowed to slits.

  "All but one," he said.

  The nobles looked at him in astonishment, and one of them graspedthe fellow none too gently by the shoulder to push him back to hisproper place. Carthoris raised his hand.

  "Wait," he urged. "Let us hear what the man has to say--no creationof mortal mind is perfect. Perchance he has detected a weaknessthat it will be well to know at once. Come, my good fellow, andwhat may be the one contingency I have overlooked?"

  As he spoke Carthoris observed the servant closely for the firsttime. He saw a man of giant stature and handsome, as are all thoseof the race of Martian red men; but the fellow's lips were thinand cruel, and across one cheek was the faint, white line of asword-cut from the right temple to the corner of the mouth.

  "Come," urged the Prince of Helium. "Speak!"

  The man hesitated. It was evident that he regretted the temeritythat had made him the centre of interested observation. But atlast, seeing no alternative, he spoke.

  "It might be tampered with," he said, "by an enemy."

  Carthoris drew a small key from his leathern pocket-pouch.

  "Look at this," he said, handing it to the man. "If you know aughtof locks, you will know that the mechanism which this unlooses isbeyond the cunning of a picker of locks. It guards the vitals ofthe instrument from crafty tampering. Without it an enemy musthalf wreck the device to reach its heart, leaving his handiworkapparent to the most casual observer."

  The servant took the key, glanced at it shrewdly, and then as hemade to return it to Carthoris dropped it upon the marble flagging.Turning to look for it he planted the sole of his sandal full uponthe glittering object. For an instant he bore all his weight uponthe foot that covered the key, then he stepped back and with anexclamation as of pleasure that he had found it, stooped, recoveredit, and returned it to the Heliumite. Then he dropped back to hisstation behind the nobles and was forgotten.

  A moment later Carthoris had made his adieux to Thuvan Dihn andhis nobles, and with lights twinkling had risen into the star-shotvoid of the Martian night.