CHAPTER XXI

A RISK FOR LOVE

"Ey, ey, he is a craven and he called me 'doddering fool'!" The speaker

was I-Gos and he addressed a knot of chieftains in one of the chambers

of the palace of O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator: "If A-Kor was alive there

were a jeddak for us!"

"Who says that A-Kor is dead?" demanded one of the chiefs.

"Where is he then?" asked I-Gos. "Have not others disappeared whom

O-Tar thought too well beloved for men so near the throne as they?"

The chief shook his head. "And I thought that, or knew it, rather; I'd

join U-Thor at The Gate of Enemies."

"S-s-st," cautioned one; "here comes the licker of feet," and all eyes

were turned upon the approaching E-Thas.

"Kaor, friends!" he exclaimed as he stopped among them, but his

friendly greeting elicited naught but a few surly nods. "Have you heard

the news?" he continued, unabashed by treatment to which he was

becoming accustomed.

"What--has O-Tar seen an ulsio and fainted?" demanded I-Gos with broad

sarcasm.

"Men have died for less than that, ancient one," E-Thas reminded him.

"I am safe," retorted I-Gos, "for I am not a brave and popular son of

the jeddak of Manator."

This was indeed open treason, but E-Thas feigned not to hear it. He

ignored I-Gos and turned to the others. "O-Tar goes to the chamber of

O-Mai this night in search of Turan the slave," he said. "He sorrows

that his warriors have not the courage for so mean a duty and that

their jeddak is thus compelled to arrest a common slave," with which

taunt E-Thas passed on to spread the word in other parts of the palace.

As a matter of fact the latter part of his message was purely original

with himself, and he took great delight in delivering it to the

discomfiture of his enemies. As he was leaving the little group of men

I-Gos called after him. "At what hour does O-Tar intend visiting the

chambers of O-Mai?" he asked.

"Toward the end of the eighth zode*," replied the major-domo, and went

his way.

* About 1:00 A. M. Earth Time.

"We shall see," stated I-Gos.

"What shall we see?" asked a warrior.

"We shall see whether O-Tar visits the chamber of O-Mai."

"How?"

"I shall be there myself and if I see him I will know that he has been

there. If I don't see him I will know that he has not," explained the

old taxidermist.

"Is there anything there to fill an honest man with fear?" asked a

chieftain. "What have you seen?"

"It was not so much what I saw, though that was bad enough, as what I

heard," said I-Gos.

"Tell us! What heard and saw you?"

"I saw the dead O-Mai," said I-Gos. The others shuddered.

"And you went not mad?" they asked.

"Am I mad?" retorted I-Gos.

"And you will go again?"

"Yes."

"Then indeed you are mad," cried one.

"You saw the dead O-Mai; but what heard you that was worse?" whispered

another.

"I saw the dead O-Mai lying upon the floor of his sleeping chamber with

one foot tangled in the sleeping silks and furs upon his couch. I heard

horrid moans and frightful screams."

"And you are not afraid to go there again?" demanded several.

"The dead cannot harm me," said I-Gos. "He has lain thus for five

thousand years. Nor can a sound harm me. I heard it once and live--I

can hear it again. It came from almost at my side where I hid behind

the hangings and watched the slave Turan before I snatched the woman

away from him."

"I-Gos, you are a very brave man," said a chieftain.

"O-Tar called me 'doddering fool' and I would face worse dangers than

lie in the forbidden chambers of O-Mai to know it if he does not visit

the chamber of O-Mai. Then indeed shall O-Tar fall!"

The night came and the zodes dragged and the time approached when

O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator, was to visit the chamber of O-Mai in search

of the slave Turan. To us, who may doubt the existence of malignant

spirits, his fear may seem unbelievable, for he was a strong man, an

excellent swordsman, and a warrior of great repute; but the fact

remained that O-Tar of Manator was nervous with apprehension as he

strode the corridors of his palace toward the deserted halls of O-Mai

and when he stood at last with his hand upon the door that opened from

the dusty corridor to the very apartments themselves he was almost

paralyzed with terror. He had come alone for two very excellent

reasons, the first of which was that thus none might note his

terror-stricken state nor his defection should he fail at the last

moment, and the other was that should he accomplish the thing alone or

be able to make his chiefs believe that he had, the credit would be far

greater than were he to be accompanied by warriors.

But though he had started alone he had become aware that he was being

followed, and he knew that it was because his people had no faith in

either his courage or his veracity. He did not believe that he would

find the slave Turan. He did not very much want to find him, for though

O-Tar was an excellent swordsman and a brave warrior in physical

combat, he had seen how Turan had played with U-Dor and he had no

stomach for a passage at arms with one whom he knew outclassed him.

And so O-Tar stood with his hand upon the door--afraid to enter; afraid

not to. But at last his fear of his own warriors, watching behind him,

grew greater than the fear of the unknown behind the ancient door and

he pushed the heavy skeel aside and entered.

Silence and gloom and the dust of centuries lay heavy upon the chamber.

From his warriors he knew the route that he must take to the horrid

chamber of O-Mai and so he forced his unwilling feet across the room

before him, across the room where the jetan players sat at their

eternal game, and came to the short corridor that led into the room of

O-Mai. His naked sword trembled in his grasp. He paused after each

forward step to listen and when he was almost at the door of the

ghost-haunted chamber, his heart stood still within his breast and the

cold sweat broke from the clammy skin of his forehead, for from within

there came to his affrighted ears the sound of muffled breathing. Then

it was that O-Tar of Manator came near to fleeing from the nameless

horror that he could not see, but that he knew lay waiting for him in

that chamber just ahead. But again came the fear of the wrath and

contempt of his warriors and his chiefs. They would degrade him and

they would slay him into the bargain. There was no doubt of what his

fate would be should he flee the apartments of O-Mai in terror. His

only hope, therefore, lay in daring the unknown in preference to the

known.

He moved forward. A few steps took him to the doorway. The chamber

before him was darker than the corridor, so that he could just

indistinctly make out the objects in the room. He saw a sleeping dais

near the center, with a darker blotch of something lying on the marble

floor beside it. He moved a step farther into the doorway and the

scabbard of his sword scraped against the stone frame. To his horror he

saw the sleeping silks and furs upon the central dais move. He saw a

figure slowly arising to a sitting posture from the death bed of O-Mai

the Cruel. His knees shook, but he gathered all his moral forces, and

gripping his sword more tightly in his trembling fingers prepared to

leap across the chamber upon the horrid apparition. He hesitated just a

moment. He felt eyes upon him--ghoulish eyes that bored through the

darkness into his withering heart--eyes that he could not see. He

gathered himself for the rush--and then there broke from the thing upon

the couch an awful shriek, and O-Tar sank senseless to the floor.

Gahan rose from the couch of O-Mai, smiling, only to swing quickly

about with drawn sword as the shadow of a noise impinged upon his keen

ears from the shadows behind him. Between the parted hangings he saw a

bent and wrinkled figure. It was I-Gos.

"Sheathe your sword, Turan," said the old man. "You have naught to fear

from I-Gos."

"What do you here?" demanded Gahan.

"I came to make sure that the great coward did not cheat us. Ey, and he

called me 'doddering fool;' but look at him now! Stricken insensible by

terror, but, ey, one might forgive him that who had heard your uncanny

scream. It all but blasted my own courage. And it was you, then, who

moaned and screamed when the chiefs came the day that I stole Tara from

you?"

"It was you, then, old scoundrel?" demanded Gahan, moving threateningly

toward I-Gos.

"Come, come!" expostulated the old man; "it was I, but then I was your

enemy. I would not do it now. Conditions have changed."

"How have they changed? What has changed them?" asked Gahan.

"Then I did not fully realize the cowardice of my jeddak, or the

bravery of you and the girl. I am an old man from another age and I

love courage. At first I resented the girl's attack upon me, but later

I came to see the bravery of it and it won my admiration, as have all

her acts. She feared not O-Tar, she feared not me, she feared not all

the warriors of Manator. And you! Blood of a million sires! how you

fight! I am sorry that I exposed you at The Fields of Jetan. I am sorry

that I dragged the girl Tara back to O-Tar. I would make amends. I

would be your friend. Here is my sword at your feet," and drawing his

weapon I-Gos cast it to the floor in front of Gahan.

The Gatholian knew that scarce the most abandoned of knaves would

repudiate this solemn pledge, and so he stooped, and picking up the old

man's sword returned it to him, hilt first, in acceptance of his

friendship.

"Where is the Princess Tara of Helium?" asked Gahan. "Is she safe?"

"She is confined in the tower of the women's quarters awaiting the

ceremony that is to make her Jeddara of Manator," replied I-Gos.

"This thing dared think that Tara of Helium would mate with him?"

growled Gahan. "I will make short work of him if he is not already dead

from fright," and he stepped toward the fallen O-Tar to run his sword

through the jeddak's heart.

"No!" cried I-Gos. "Slay him not and pray that he be not dead if you

would save your princess."

"How is that?" asked Gahan.

"If word of O-Tar's death reached the quarters of the women the

Princess Tara would be lost. They know O-Tar's intention of taking her

to wife and making her Jeddara of Manator, so you may rest assured that

they all hate her with the hate of jealous women. Only O-Tar's power

protects her now from harm. Should O-Tar die they would turn her over

to the warriors and the male slaves, for there would be none to avenge

her."

Gahan sheathed his sword. "Your point is well taken; but what shall we

do with him?"

"Leave him where he lies," counseled I-Gos. "He is not dead. When he

revives he will return to his quarters with a fine tale of his bravery

and there will be none to impugn his boasts--none but I-Gos. Come! he

may revive at any moment and he must not find us here."

I-Gos crossed to the body of his jeddak, knelt beside it for an

instant, and then returned past the couch to Gahan. The two quit the

chamber of O-Mai and took their way toward the spiral runway. Here

I-Gos led Gahan to a higher level and out upon the roof of that portion

of the palace from where he pointed to a high tower quite close by.

"There," he said, "lies the Princess of Helium, and quite safe she will

be until the time of the ceremony."

"Safe, possibly, from other hands, but not from her own," said Gahan.

"She will never become Jeddara of Manator--first will she destroy

herself."

"She would do that?" asked I-Gos.

"She will, unless you can get word to her that I still live and that

there is yet hope," replied Gahan.

"I cannot get word to her," said I-Gos. "The quarters of his women

O-Tar guards with jealous hand. Here are his most trusted slaves and

warriors, yet even so, thick among them are countless spies, so that no

man knows which be which. No shadow falls within those chambers that is

not marked by a hundred eyes."

Gahan stood gazing at the lighted windows of the high tower in the

upper chambers of which Tara of Helium was confined. "I will find a

way, I-Gos," he said.

"There is no way," replied the old man.

For some time they stood upon the roof beneath the brilliant stars and

hurtling moons of dying Mars, laying their plans against the time that

Tara of Helium should be brought from the high tower to the throne room

of O-Tar. It was then, and then alone, argued I-Gos, that any hope of

rescuing her might be entertained. Just how far he might trust the

other Gahan did not know, and so he kept to himself the knowledge of

the plan that he had forwarded to Floran and Val Dor by Ghek, but he

assured the ancient taxidermist that if he were sincere in his

oft-repeated declaration that O-Tar should be denounced and superseded

he would have his opportunity on the night that the jeddak sought to

wed the Heliumetic princess.

"Your time shall come then, I-Gos," Gahan assured the other, "and if

you have any party that thinks as you do, prepare them for the

eventuality that will succeed O-Tar's presumptuous attempt to wed the

daughter of The Warlord. Where shall I see you again, and when? I go

now to speak with Tara, Princess of Helium."

"I like your boldness," said I-Gos; "but it will avail you naught. You

will not speak with Tara, Princess of Helium, though doubtless the

blood of many Manatorians will drench the floors of the women's

quarters before you are slain."

Gahan smiled. "I shall not be slain. Where and when shall we meet? But

you may find me in O-Mai's chamber at night. That seems the safest

retreat in all Manator for an enemy of the jeddak in whose palace it

lies. I go!"

"And may the spirits of your ancestors surround you," said I-Gos.

After the old man had left him Gahan made his way across the roof to

the high tower, which appeared to have been constructed of concrete and

afterward elaborately carved, its entire surface being covered with

intricate designs cut deep into the stone-like material of which it was

composed. Though wrought ages since, it was but little weather-worn

owing to the aridity of the Martian atmosphere, the infrequency of

rains, and the rarity of dust storms. To scale it, though, presented

difficulties and danger that might have deterred the bravest of

men--that would, doubtless, have deterred Gahan, had he not felt that

the life of the woman he loved depended upon his accomplishing the

hazardous feat.

Removing his sandals and laying aside all of his harness and weapons

other than a single belt supporting a dagger, the Gatholian essayed the

dangerous ascent. Clinging to the carvings with hands and feet he

worked himself slowly aloft, avoiding the windows and keeping upon the

shadowy side of the tower, away from the light of Thuria and Cluros.

The tower rose some fifty feet above the roof of the adjacent part of

the palace, comprising five levels or floors with windows looking in

every direction. A few of the windows were balconied, and these more

than the others he sought to avoid, although, it being now near the

close of the ninth zode, there was little likelihood that many were

awake within the tower.

His progress was noiseless and he came at last, undetected, to the

windows of the upper level. These, like several of the others he had

passed at lower levels, were heavily barred, so that there was no

possibility of his gaining ingress to the apartment where Tara was

confined. Darkness hid the interior behind the first window that he

approached. The second opened upon a lighted chamber where he could see

a guard sleeping at his post outside a door. Here also was the top of

the runway leading to the next level below. Passing still farther

around the tower Gahan approached another window, but now he clung to

that side of the tower which ended in a courtyard a hundred feet below

and in a short time the light of Thuria would reach him. He realized

that he must hasten and he prayed that behind the window he now

approached he would find Tara of Helium.

Coming to the opening he looked in upon a small chamber dimly lighted.

In the center was a sleeping dais upon which a human form lay beneath

silks and furs. A bare arm, protruding from the coverings, lay exposed

against a black and yellow striped orluk skin--an arm of wondrous

beauty about which was clasped an armlet that Gahan knew. No other

creature was visible within the chamber, all of which was exposed to

Gahan's view. Pressing his face to the bars the Gatholian whispered her

dear name. The girl stirred, but did not awaken. Again he called, but

this time louder. Tara sat up and looked about and at the same instant

a huge eunuch leaped to his feet from where he had been lying on the

floor close by that side of the dais farthest from Gahan.

Simultaneously the brilliant light of Thuria flashed full upon the

window where Gahan clung silhouetting him plainly to the two within.

Both sprang to their feet. The eunuch drew his sword and leaped for the

window where the helpless Gahan would have fallen an easy victim to a

single thrust of the murderous weapon the fellow bore, had not Tara of

Helium leaped upon her guard dragging him back. At the same time she

drew the slim dagger from its hiding place in her harness and even as

the eunuch sought to hurl her aside its keen point found his heart.

Without a sound he died and lunged forward to the floor. Then Tara ran

to the window.

"Turan, my chief!" she cried. "What awful risk is this you take to seek

me here, where even your brave heart is powerless to aid me."

"Be not so sure of that, heart of my heart," he replied. "While I bring

but words to my love, they be the forerunner of deeds, I hope, that

will give her back to me forever. I feared that you might destroy

yourself, Tara of Helium, to escape the dishonor that O-Tar would do

you, and so I came to give you new hope and to beg that you live for me

through whatever may transpire, in the knowledge that there is yet a

way and that if all goes well we shall be freed at last. Look for me in

the throne room of O-Tar the night that he would wed you. And now, how

may we dispose of this fellow?" He pointed to the dead eunuch upon the

floor.

"We need not concern ourselves about that," she replied. "None dares

harm me for fear of the wrath of O-Tar--otherwise I should have been

dead so soon as ever I entered this portion of the palace, for the

women hate me. O-Tar alone may punish me, and what cares O-Tar for the

life of a eunuch? No, fear not upon this score."

Their hands were clasped between the bars and now Gahan drew her nearer

to him.

"One kiss," he said, "before I go, my princess," and the proud daughter

of Dejah Thoris, Princess of Helium, and The Warlord of Barsoom

whispered: "My chieftain!" and pressed her lips to the lips of Turan,

the common panthan.