The Temple Of The Sun

: Warlord Of Mars

There was nothing for it now other than to fight; nor did I have

any advantage as I sprang, sword in hand, into the corridor before

the two therns, for my untimely sneeze had warned them of my presence

and they were ready for me.



There were no words, for they would have been a waste of breath.

The very presence of the two proclaimed their treachery. That

they were following to fall upon me unawares was a l too plain,

and they, of course, must have known that I understood their plan.



In an instant I was engaged with both, and though I loathe the very

name of thern, I must in all fairness admit that they are mighty

swordsmen; and these two were no exception, unless it were that

they were even more skilled and fearless than the average among

their race.



While it lasted it was indeed as joyous a conflict as I ever had

experienced. Twice at least I saved my breast from the mortal

thrust of piercing steel only by the wondrous agility with which

my earthly muscles endow me under the conditions of lesser gravity

and air pressure upon Mars.



Yet even so I came near to tasting death that day in the gloomy

corridor beneath Mars's southern pole, for Lakor played a trick

upon me that in all my experience of fighting upon two planets I

never before had witnessed the like of.



The other thern was engaging me at the time, and I was forcing

him back--touching him here and there with my point until he was

bleeding from a dozen wounds, yet not being able to penetrate his

marvelous guard to reach a vulnerable spot for the brief instant

that would have been sufficient to send him to his ancestors.



It was then that Lakor quickly unslung a belt from his harness,

and as I stepped back to parry a wicked thrust he lashed one end

of it about my left ankle so that it wound there for an instant,

while he jerked suddenly upon the other end, throwing me heavily

upon my back.



Then, like leaping panthers, they were upon me; but they

had reckoned without Woola, and before ever a blade touched me, a

roaring embodiment of a thousand demons hurtled above my prostrate

form and my loyal Martian calot was upon them.



Imagine, if you can, a huge grizzly with ten legs armed with mighty

talons and an enormous froglike mouth splitting his head from ear

to ear, exposing three rows of long, white tusks. Then endow this

creature of your imagination with the agility and ferocity of a

half-starved Bengal tiger and the strength of a span of bulls, and

you will have some faint conception of Woola in action.



Before I could call him off he had crushed Lakor into a jelly with

a single blow of one mighty paw, and had literally torn the other

thern to ribbons; yet when I spoke to him sharply he cowed sheepishly

as though he had done a thing to deserve censure and chastisement.



Never had I had the heart to punish Woola during the long years

that had passed since that first day upon Mars when the green jed

of the Tharks had placed him on guard over me, and I had won his

love and loyalty from the cruel and loveless masters of his former

life, yet I believe he would have submitted to any cruelty that I

might have inflicted upon him, so wondrous was his affection for

me.



The diadem in the center of the circlet of gold upon the brow of

Lakor proclaimed him a Holy Thern, while his companion, not thus

adorned, was a lesser thern, though from his harness I gleaned that

he had reached the Ninth Cycle, which is but one below that of the

Holy Therns.



As I stood for a moment looking at the gruesome havoc Woola had

wrought, there recurred to me the memory of that other occasion

upon which I had masqueraded in the wig, diadem, and harness of

Sator Throg, the Holy Thern whom Thuvia of Ptarth had slain, and now

it occurred to me that it might prove of worth to utilize Lakor's

trappings for the same purpose.



A moment later I had torn his yellow wig from his bald pate and

transferred it and the circlet, as well as all his harness, to my

own person.



Woola did not approve of the metamorphosis. He sniffed at me and

growled ominously, but when I spoke to him and patted his huge head

he at length became reconciled to the change, and at my command

trotted off along the corridor in the direction we had been going

when our progress had been interrupted by the therns.



We moved cautiously now, warned by the fragment of conversation

I had overheard. I kept abreast of Woola that we might have the

benefit of all our eyes for what might appear suddenly ahead to

menace us, and well it was that we were forewarned.



At the bottom of a flight of narrow steps the corridor turned sharply

back upon itself, immediately making another turn in the original

direction, so that at that point it formed a perfect letter S,

the top leg of which debouched suddenly into a large chamber, illy

lighted, and the floor of which was completely covered by venomous

snakes and loathsome reptiles.



To have attempted to cross that floor would have been to court

instant death, and for a moment I was almost completely discouraged.

Then it occurred to me that Thurid and Matai Shang with their party

must have crossed it, and so there was a way.



Had it not been for the fortunate accident by which I overheard

even so small a portion of the therns' conversation we should

have blundered at least a step or two into that wriggling mass of

destruction, and a single step would have been all-sufficient to

have sealed our doom.



These were the only reptiles I had ever seen upon Barsoom, but I

knew from their similarity to the fossilized remains of supposedly

extinct species I had seen in the museums of Helium that they

comprised many of the known prehistoric reptilian genera, as well

as others undiscovered.



A more hideous aggregation of monsters had never before assailed my

vision. It would be futile to attempt to describe them to Earth

men, since substance is the only thing which they possess in

common with any creature of the past or present with which you are

familiar--even their venom is of an unearthly virulence that, by

comparison, would make the cobra de capello seem quite as harmless

as an angleworm.



As they spied me there was a concerted rush by those nearest the

entrance where we stood, but a line of radium bulbs inset along the

threshold of their chamber brought them to a sudden halt--evidently

they dared not cross that line of light.



I had been quite sure that they would not venture beyond the room

in which I had discovered them, though I had not guessed at what

deterred them. The simple fact that we had found no reptiles in

the corridor through which we had just come was sufficient assurance

that they did not venture there.



I drew Woola out of harm's way, and then began a careful survey

of as much of the Chamber of Reptiles as I could see from where

I stood. As my eyes became accustomed to the dim light of its

interior I gradually made out a low gallery at the far end of the

apartment from which opened several exits.



Coming as close to the threshold as I dared, I followed this

gallery with my eyes, discovering that it circled the room as far

as I could see. Then I glanced above me along the upper edge of

the entrance to which we had come, and there, to my delight, I saw

an end of the gallery not a foot above my head. In an instant I

had leaped to it and called Woola after me.



Here there were no reptiles--the way was clear to the opposite side

of the hideous chamber--and a moment later Woola and I dropped down

to safety in the corridor beyond.



Not ten minutes later we came into a vast circular apartment

of white marble, the walls of which were inlaid with gold in the

strange hieroglyphics of the First Born.



From the high dome of this mighty apartment a huge circular column

extended to the floor, and as I watched I saw that it slowly

revolved.



I had reached the base of the Temple of the Sun!



Somewhere above me lay Dejah Thoris, and with her were Phaidor,

daughter of Matai Shang, and Thuvia of Ptarth. But how to reach

them, now that I had found the only vulnerable spot in their mighty

prison, was still a baffling riddle.



Slowly I circled the great shaft, looking for a means of ingress.

Part way around I found a tiny radium flash torch, and as I examined

it in mild curiosity as to its presence there in this almost

inaccessible and unknown spot, I came suddenly upon the insignia

of the house of Thurid jewel-inset in its metal case.



I am upon the right trail, I thought, as I slipped the bauble into

the pocket-pouch which hung from my harness. Then I continued

my search for the entrance, which I knew must be somewhere about;

nor had I long to search, for almost immediately thereafter I came

upon a small door so cunningly inlaid in the shaft's base that it

might have passed unnoticed by a less keen or careful observer.



There was the door that would lead me within the prison, but where

was the means to open it? No button or lock were visible. Again

and again I went carefully over every square inch of its surface,

but the most that I could find was a tiny pinhole a little above

and to the right of the door's center--a pinhole that seemed only

an accident of manufacture or an imperfection of material.



Into this minute aperture I attempted to peer, but whether it was

but a fraction of an inch deep or passed completely through the door

I could not tell--at least no light showed beyond it. I put my ear

to it next and listened, but again my efforts brought negligible

results.



During these experiments Woola had been standing at my side gazing

intently at the door, and as my glance fell upon him it occurred

to me to test the correctness of my hypothesis, that this portal

had been the means of ingress to the temple used by Thurid, the

black dator, and Matai Shang, Father of Therns.



Turning away abruptly, I called to him to follow me. For a moment

he hesitated, and then leaped after me, whining and tugging at my

harness to draw me back. I walked on, however, some distance from

the door before I let him have his way, that I might see precisely

what he would do. Then I permitted him to lead me wherever he

would.



Straight back to that baffling portal he dragged me, again taking

up his position facing the blank stone, gazing straight at its

shining surface. For an hour I worked to solve the mystery of the

combination that would open the way before me.



Carefully I recalled every circumstance of my pursuit of Thurid,

and my conclusion was identical with my original belief--that Thurid

had come this way without other assistance than his own knowledge

and passed through the door that barred my progress, unaided from

within. But how had he accomplished it?



I recalled the incident of the Chamber of Mystery in the Golden

Cliffs that time I had freed Thuvia of Ptarth from the dungeon of

the therns, and she had taken a slender, needle-like key from the

keyring of her dead jailer to open the door leading back into the

Chamber of Mystery where Tars Tarkas fought for his life with the

great banths. Such a tiny keyhole as now defied me had opened the

way to the intricate lock in that other door.



Hastily I dumped the contents of my pocket-pouch upon the ground

before me. Could I but find a slender bit of steel I might yet

fashion a key that would give me ingress to the temple prison.



As I examined the heterogeneous collection of odds and ends that

is always to be found in the pocket-pouch of a Martian warrior my

hand fell upon the emblazoned radium flash torch of the black dator.



As I was about to lay the thing aside as of no value in my present

predicament my eyes chanced upon a few strange characters roughly

and freshly scratched upon the soft gold of the case.



Casual curiosity prompted me to decipher them, but what I read

carried no immediate meaning to my mind. There were three sets of

characters, one below another:



3 -- 50 T

1 -- 1 X

9 -- 25 T





For only an instant my curiosity was piqued, and then I replaced

the torch in my pocket-pouch, but my fingers had not unclasped

from it when there rushed to my memory the recollection of the

conversation between Lakor and his companion when the lesser thern

had quoted the words of Thurid and scoffed at them: "And what

think you of the ridiculous matter of the light? Let the light

shine with the intensity of three radium units for fifty tals"--ah,

there was the first line of characters upon the torch's metal

case--3--50 T; "and for one xat let it shine with the intensity

of one radium unit"--there was the second line; "and then for

twenty-five tals with nine units."



The formula was complete; but--what did it mean?



I thought I knew, and, seizing a powerful magnifying glass from the

litter of my pocket-pouch, I applied myself to a careful examination

of the marble immediately about the pinhole in the door. I could

have cried aloud in exultation when my scrutiny disclosed the almost

invisible incrustation of particles of carbonized electrons which

are thrown off by these Martian torches.



It was evident that for countless ages radium torches had been

applied to this pinhole, and for what purpose there could be but

a single answer--the mechanism of the lock was actuated by light

rays; and I, John Carter, Prince of Helium, held the combination

in my hand--scratched by the hand of my enemy upon his own torch

case.



In a cylindrical bracelet of gold about my wrist was my Barsoomian

chronometer--a delicate instrument that records the tals and xats

and zodes of Martian time, presenting them to view beneath a strong

crystal much after the manner of an earthly odometer.



Timing my operations carefully, I held the torch to the small aperture

in the door, regulating the intensity of the light by means of the

thumb-lever upon the side of the case.



For fifty tals I let three units of light shine full in the pinhole,

then one unit for one xat, and for twenty-five tals nine units.

Those last twenty-five tals were the longest twenty-five seconds

of my life. Would the lock click at the end of those seemingly

interminable intervals of time?



Twenty-three! Twenty-four! Twenty-five!



I shut off the light with a snap. For seven tals I waited--there

had been no appreciable effect upon the lock's mechanism. Could

it be that my theory was entirely wrong?



Hold! Had the nervous strain resulted in a hallucination, or did

the door really move? Slowly the solid stone sank noiselessly back

into the wall--there was no hallucination here.



Back and back it slid for ten feet until it had disclosed at its

right a narrow doorway leading into a dark and narrow corridor that

paralleled the outer wall. Scarcely was the entrance uncovered

than Woola and I had leaped through--then the door slipped quietly

back into place.



Down the corridor at some distance I saw the faint reflection of

a light, and toward this we made our way. At the point where the

light shone was a sharp turn, and a little distance beyond this a

brilliantly lighted chamber.



Here we discovered a spiral stairway leading up from the center of

the circular room.



Immediately I knew that we had reached the center of the base of

the Temple of the Sun--the spiral runway led upward past the inner

walls of the prison cells. Somewhere above me was Dejah Thoris,

unless Thurid and Matai Shang had already succeeded in stealing

her.



We had scarcely started up the runway when Woola suddenly displayed

the wildest excitement. He leaped back and forth, snapping at my

legs and harness, until I thought that he was mad, and finally when

I pushed him from me and started once more to ascend he grasped my

sword arm between his jaws and dragged me back.



No amount of scolding or cuffing would suffice to make him release

me, and I was entirely at the mercy of his brute strength unless

I cared to use my dagger upon him with my left hand; but, mad or

no, I had not the heart to run the sharp blade into that faithful

body.



Down into the chamber he dragged me, and across it to the side

opposite that at which we had entered. Here was another doorway

leading into a corridor which ran directly down a steep incline.

Without a moment's hesitation Woola jerked me along this rocky

passage.



Presently he stopped and released me, standing between me and the

way we had come, looking up into my face as though to ask if I would

now follow him voluntarily or if he must still resort to force.



Looking ruefully at the marks of his great teeth upon my bare arm

I decided to do as he seemed to wish me to do. After all, his strange

instinct might be more dependable than my faulty human judgment.



And well it was that I had been forced to follow him. But a

short distance from the circular chamber we came suddenly into a

brilliantly lighted labyrinth of crystal glass partitioned passages.



At first I thought it was one vast, unbroken chamber, so clear and

transparent were the walls of the winding corridors, but after I

had nearly brained myself a couple of times by attempting to pass

through solid vitreous walls I went more carefully.



We had proceeded but a few yards along the corridor that had given

us entrance to this strange maze when Woola gave mouth to a most

frightful roar, at the same time dashing against the clear partition

at our left.



The resounding echoes of that fearsome cry were still reverberating

through the subterranean chambers when I saw the thing that had

startled it from the faithful beast.



Far in the distance, dimly through the many thicknesses of intervening

crystal, as in a haze that made them seem unreal and ghostly, I

discerned the figures of eight people--three females and five men.



At the same instant, evidently startled by Woola's fierce cry, they

halted and looked about. Then, of a sudden, one of them, a woman,

held her arms out toward me, and even at that great distance I could

see that her lips moved--it was Dejah Thoris, my ever beautiful

and ever youthful Princess of Helium.



With her were Thuvia of Ptarth, Phaidor, daughter of Matai Shang,

and Thurid, and the Father of Therns, and the three lesser therns

that had accompanied them.



Thurid shook his fist at me, and then two of the therns grasped

Dejah Thoris and Thuvia roughly by their arms and hurried them on.

A moment later they had disappeared into a stone corridor beyond

the labyrinth of glass.



They say that love is blind; but so great a love as that of Dejah

Thoris that knew me even beneath the thern disguise I wore and across

the misty vista of that crystal maze must indeed be far from blind.