Entrapped

: The Chessmen Of Mars

Turan the panthan approached the strange city under cover of the

darkness. He entertained little hope of finding either food or

water outside the wall, but he would try and then, if he failed,

he would attempt to make his way into the city, for Tara of

Helium must have sustenance and have it soon. He saw that the

walls were poorly sentineled, but they were sufficiently high to

render an attempt to scale them foredoomed
to failure. Taking

advantage of underbrush and trees, Turan managed to reach the

base of the wall without detection. Silently he moved north past

the gateway which was closed by a massive gate which effectively

barred even the slightest glimpse within the city beyond. It was

Turan's hope to find upon the north side of the city away from

the hills a level plain where grew the crops of the inhabitants,

and here too water from their irrigating system, but though he

traveled far along that seemingly interminable wall he found no

fields nor any water. He searched also for some means of ingress

to the city, yet here, too, failure was his only reward, and now

as he went keen eyes watched him from above and a silent stalker

kept pace with him for a time upon the summit of the wall; but

presently the shadower descended to the pavement within and

hurrying swiftly raced ahead of the stranger without.



He came presently to a small gate beside which was a low building

and before the doorway of the building a warrior standing guard.

He spoke a few quick words to the warrior and then entered the

building only to return almost immediately to the street,

followed by fully forty warriors. Cautiously opening the gate the

fellow peered carefully along the wall upon the outside in the

direction from which he had come. Evidently satisfied, he issued

a few words of instruction to those behind him, whereupon half

the warriors returned to the interior of the building, while the

other half followed the man stealthily through the gateway where

they crouched low among the shrubbery in a half circle just north

of the gateway which they had left open. Here they waited in

utter silence, nor had they long to wait before Turan the panthan

came cautiously along the base of the wall. To the very gate he

came and when he found it and that it was open he paused for a

moment, listening; then he approached and looked within. Assured

that there was none within sight to apprehend him he stepped

through the gateway into the city.



He found himself in a narrow street that paralleled the wall.

Upon the opposite side rose buildings of an architecture unknown

to him, yet strangely beautiful. While the buildings were packed

closely together there seemed to be no two alike and their fronts

were of all shapes and heights and of many hues. The skyline was

broken by spire and dome and minaret and tall, slender towers,

while the walls supported many a balcony and in the soft light of

Cluros, the farther moon, now low in the west, he saw, to his

surprise and consternation, the figures of people upon the

balconies. Directly opposite him were two women and a man. They

sat leaning upon the rail of the balcony looking, apparently,

directly at him; but if they saw him they gave no sign.



Turan hesitated a moment in the face of almost certain discovery

and then, assured that they must take him for one of their own

people, he moved boldly into the avenue. Having no idea of the

direction in which he might best hope to find what he sought, and

not wishing to arouse suspicion by further hesitation, he turned

to the left and stepped briskly along the pavement with the

intention of placing himself as quickly as possible beyond the

observation of those nocturnal watchers. He knew that the night

must be far spent; and so he could not but wonder why people

should sit upon their balconies when they should have been asleep

among their silks and furs. At first he had thought them the late

guests of some convivial host; but the windows behind them were

shrouded in darkness and utter quiet prevailed, quite upsetting

such a theory. And as he proceeded he passed many another group

sitting silently upon other balconies. They paid no attention to

him, seeming not even to note his passing. Some leaned with a

single elbow upon the rail, their chins resting in their palms;

others leaned upon both arms across the balcony, looking down

into the street, while several that he saw held musical

instruments in their hands, but their fingers moved not upon the

strings.



And then Turan came to a point where the avenue turned to the

right, to skirt a building that jutted from the inside of the

city wall, and as he rounded the corner he came full upon two

warriors standing upon either side of the entrance to a building

upon his right. It was impossible for them not to be aware of his

presence, yet neither moved, nor gave other evidence that they

had seen him. He stood there waiting, his hand upon the hilt of

his long-sword, but they neither challenged nor halted him. Could

it be that these also thought him one of their own kind? Indeed

upon no other grounds could he explain their inaction.



As Turan had passed through the gateway into the city and taken

his unhindered way along the avenue, twenty warriors had entered

the city and closed the gate behind them, and then one had taken

to the wall and followed along its summit in the rear of Turan,

and another had followed him along the avenue, while a third had

crossed the street and entered one of the buildings upon the

opposite side.



The balance of them, with the exception of a single sentinel

beside the gate, had re-entered the building from which they had

been summoned. They were well built, strapping, painted fellows,

their naked figures covered now by gorgeous robes against the

chill of night. As they spoke of the stranger they laughed at the

ease with which they had tricked him, and were still laughing as

they threw themselves upon their sleeping silks and furs to

resume their broken slumber. It was evident that they constituted

a guard detailed for the gate beside which they slept, and it was

equally evident that the gates were guarded and the city watched

much more carefully than Turan had believed. Chagrined indeed had

been the Jed of Gathol had he dreamed that he was being so neatly

tricked.



As Turan proceeded along the avenue he passed other sentries

beside other doors but now he gave them small heed, since they

neither challenged nor otherwise outwardly noted his passing; but

while at nearly every turn of the erratic avenue he passed one or

more of these silent sentinels he could not guess that he had

passed one of them many times and that his every move was watched

by silent, clever stalkers. Scarce had he passed a certain one of

these rigid guardsmen before the fellow awoke to sudden life,

bounded across the avenue, entered a narrow opening in the outer

wall where he swiftly followed a corridor built within the wall

itself until presently he emerged a little distance ahead of

Turan, where he assumed the stiff and silent attitude of a

soldier upon guard. Nor did Turan know that a second followed in

the shadows of the buildings behind him, nor of the third who

hastened ahead of him upon some urgent mission.



And so the panthan moved through the silent streets of the

strange city in search of food and drink for the woman he loved.

Men and women looked down upon him from shadowy balconies, but

spoke not; and sentinels saw him pass and did not challenge.

Presently from along the avenue before him came the familiar

sound of clanking accouterments, the herald of marching warriors,

and almost simultaneously he saw upon his right an open doorway

dimly lighted from within. It was the only available place where

he might seek to hide from the approaching company, and while he

had passed several sentries unquestioned he could scarce hope to

escape scrutiny and questioning from a patrol, as he naturally

assumed this body of men to be.



Inside the doorway he discovered a passage turning abruptly to

the right and almost immediately thereafter to the left. There

was none in sight within and so he stepped cautiously around the

second turn the more effectually to be hidden from the street.

Before him stretched a long corridor, dimly lighted like the

entrance. Waiting there he heard the party approach the building,

he heard someone at the entrance to his hiding place, and then he

heard the door past which he had come slam to. He laid his hand

upon his sword, expecting momentarily to hear footsteps

approaching along the corridor; but none came. He approached the

turn and looked around it; the corridor was empty to the closed

door. Whoever had closed it had remained upon the outside.



Turan waited, listening. He heard no sound. Then he advanced to

the door and placed an ear against it. All was silence in the

street beyond. A sudden draft must have closed the door, or

perhaps it was the duty of the patrol to see to such things. It

was immaterial. They had evidently passed on and now he would

return to the street and continue upon his way. Somewhere there

would be a public fountain where he could obtain water, and the

chance of food lay in the strings of dried vegetables and meat

which hung before the doorways of nearly every Barsoomian home of

the poorer classes that he had ever seen. It was this district he

was seeking, and it was for this reason his search had led him

away from the main gate of the city which he knew would not be

located in a poor district.



He attempted to open the door only to find that it resisted his

every effort--it was locked upon the outside. Here indeed was a

sorry contretemps. Turan the panthan scratched his head. "Fortune

frowns upon me," he murmured; but beyond the door, Fate, in the

form of a painted warrior, stood smiling. Neatly had he tricked

the unwary stranger. The lighted doorway, the marching

patrol--these had been planned and timed to a nicety by the third

warrior who had sped ahead of Turan along another avenue, and the

stranger had done precisely what the fellow had thought he would

do--no wonder, then, that he smiled.



This exit barred to him Turan turned back into the corridor. He

followed it cautiously and silently. Occasionally there was a

door on one side or the other. These he tried only to find each

securely locked. The corridor wound more erratically the farther

he advanced. A locked door barred his way at its end, but a door

upon his right opened and he stepped into a dimly-lighted

chamber, about the walls of which were three other doors, each of

which he tried in turn. Two were locked; the other opened upon a

runway leading downward. It was spiral and he could see no

farther than the first turn. A door in the corridor he had

quitted opened after he had passed, and the third warrior stepped

out and followed after him. A faint smile still lingered upon the

fellow's grim lips.



Turan drew his short-sword and cautiously descended. At the

bottom was a short corridor with a closed door at the end. He

approached the single heavy panel and listened. No sound came to

him from beyond the mysterious portal. Gently he tried the door,

which swung easily toward him at his touch. Before him was a

low-ceiled chamber with a dirt floor. Set in its walls were

several other doors and all were closed. As Turan stepped

cautiously within, the third warrior descended the spiral runway

behind him. The panthan crossed the room quickly and tried a

door. It was locked. He heard a muffled click behind him and

turned about with ready sword. He was alone; but the door through

which he had entered was closed--it was the click of its lock

that he had heard.



With a bound he crossed the room and attempted to open it; but to

no avail. No longer did he seek silence, for he knew now that the

thing had gone beyond the sphere of chance. He threw his weight

against the wooden panel; but the thick skeel of which it was

constructed would have withstood a battering ram. From beyond

came a low laugh.



Rapidly Turan examined each of the other doors. They were all

locked. A glance about the chamber revealed a wooden table and a

bench. Set in the walls were several heavy rings to which rusty

chains were attached--all too significant of the purpose to which

the room was dedicated. In the dirt floor near the wall were two

or three holes resembling the mouths of burrows--doubtless the

habitat of the giant Martian rat. He had observed this much when

suddenly the dim light was extinguished, leaving him in darkness

utter and complete. Turan, groping about, sought the table and

the bench. Placing the latter against the wall he drew the table

in front of him and sat down upon the bench, his long-sword

gripped in readiness before him. At least they should fight

before they took him.



For some time he sat there waiting for he knew not what. No sound

penetrated to his subterranean dungeon. He slowly revolved in his

mind the incidents of the evening--the open, unguarded gate; the

lighted doorway--the only one he had seen thus open and lighted

along the avenue he had followed; the advance of the warriors at

precisely the moment that he could find no other avenue of escape

or concealment; the corridors and chambers that led past many

locked doors to this underground prison leaving no other path for

him to pursue.



"By my first ancestor!" he swore; "but it was simple and I a

simpleton. They tricked me neatly and have taken me without

exposing themselves to a scratch; but for what purpose?"



He wished that he might answer that question and then his

thoughts turned to the girl waiting there on the hill beyond the

city for him--and he would never come. He knew the ways of the

more savage peoples of Barsoom. No, he would never come, now. He

had disobeyed her. He smiled at the sweet recollection of those

words of command that had fallen from her dear lips. He had

disobeyed her and now he had lost the reward.



But what of her? What now would be her fate--starving before a

hostile city with only an inhuman kaldane for company? Another

thought--a horrid thought--obtruded itself upon him. She had told

him of the hideous sights she had witnessed in the burrows of the

kaldanes and he knew that they ate human flesh. Ghek was

starving. Should he eat his rykor he would be helpless;

but--there was sustenance there for them both, for the rykor and

the kaldane. Turan cursed himself for a fool. Why had he left

her? Far better to have remained and died with her, ready always

to protect her, than to have left her at the mercy of the hideous

Bantoomian.



Now Turan detected a heavy odor in the air. It oppressed him with

a feeling of drowsiness. He would have risen to fight off the

creeping lethargy, but his legs seemed weak, so that he sank

again to the bench. Presently his sword slipped from his fingers

and he sprawled forward upon the table his head resting upon his

arms.



* * * * *



Tara of Helium, as the night wore on and Turan did not return,

became more and more uneasy, and when dawn broke with no sign of

him she guessed that he had failed. Something more than her own

unhappy predicament brought a feeling of sorrow to her heart--of

sorrow and loneliness. She realized now how she had come to

depend upon this panthan not only for protection but for

companionship as well. She missed him, and in missing him

realized suddenly that he had meant more to her than a mere hired

warrior. It was as though a friend had been taken from her--an

old and valued friend. She rose from her place of concealment

that she might have a better view of the city.



U-Dor, dwar of the 8th Utan of O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator, rode

back in the early dawn toward Manator from a brief excursion to a

neighboring village. As he was rounding the hills south of the



city, his keen eyes were attracted by a slight movement among the

shrubbery close to the summit of the nearest hill. He halted his

vicious mount and watched more closely. He saw a figure rise

facing away from him and peer down toward Manator beyond the

hill.



"Come!" he signalled to his followers, and with a word to this

thoat turned the beast at a rapid gallop up the hillside. In his

wake swept his twenty savage warriors, the padded feet of their

mounts soundless upon the soft turf. It was the rattle of

sidearms and harness that brought Tara of Helium suddenly about,

facing them. She saw a score of warriors with couched lances

bearing down upon her.



She glanced at Ghek. What would the spiderman do in this

emergency? She saw him crawl to his rykor and attach himself.

Then he arose, the beautiful body once again animated and alert.

She thought that the creature was preparing for flight. Well, it

made little difference to her. Against such as were streaming up

the hill toward them a single mediocre swordsman such as Ghek was

worse than no defense at all.



"Hurry, Ghek!" she admonished him. "Back into the hills! You may

find there a hiding-place;" but the creature only stepped between

her and the oncoming riders, drawing his long-sword.



"It is useless, Ghek," she said, when she saw that he intended to

defend her. "What can a single sword accomplish against such

odds?"



"I can die but once," replied the kaldane. "You and your panthan

saved me from Luud and I but do what your panthan would do were

he here to protect you."



"It is brave, but it is useless," she replied. "Sheathe your

sword. They may not intend us harm."



Ghek let the point of his weapon drop to the ground, but he did

not sheathe it, and thus the two stood waiting as U-Dor the dwar

stopped his thoat before them while his twenty warriors formed a

rough circle about. For a long minute U-Dor sat his mount in

silence, looking searchingly first at Tara of Helium and then at

her hideous companion.



"What manner of creature are you?" he asked presently. "And what

do you before the gates of Manator?"



"We are from far countries," replied the girl, "and we are lost

and starving. We ask only food and rest and the privilege to go

our way seeking our own homes."



U-Dor smiled a grim smile. "Manator and the hills which guard it

alone know the age of Manator," he said; "yet in all the ages

that have rolled by since Manator first was, there be no record

in the annals of Manator of a stranger departing from Manator."



"But I am a princess," cried the girl haughtily, "and my country

is not at war with yours. You must give me and my companions aid

and assist us to return to our own land. It is the law of

Barsoom."



"Manator knows only the laws of Manator," replied U-Dor; "but

come. You shall go with us to the city, where you, being

beautiful, need have no fear. I, myself, will protect you if

O-Tar so decrees. And as for your companion--but hold! You said

'companions'--there are others of your party then?"



"You see what you see," replied Tara haughtily.



"Be that as it may," said U-Dor. "If there be more they shall not

escape Manator; but as I was saying, if your companion fights

well he too may live, for O-Tar is just, and just are the laws of

Manator. Come!"



Ghek demurred.



"It is useless," said the girl, seeing that he would have stood

his ground and fought them. "Let us go with them. Why pit your

puny blade against their mighty ones when there should lie in

your great brain the means to outwit them?" She spoke in a low

whisper, rapidly.



"You are right, Tara of Helium," he replied and sheathed his

sword.



And so they moved down the hillside toward the gates of

Manator--Tara, Princess of Helium, and Ghek, the kaldane of

Bantoom--and surrounding them rode the savage, painted warriors

of U-Dor, dwar of the 8th Utan of O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator.



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