THE NEW RULER
The flier upon whose deck Dejah Thoris and I found ourselves
after twelve long years of separation proved entirely useless.
Her buoyancy tanks leaked badly. Her engine would not start.
We were helpless there in mid air above the arctic ice.
The craft had drifted across the chasm which held the corpses of
Matai Shang, Thurid, and Phaidor, and now hung above a low hill.
Opening the buoyancy escape valves I permitted her to come slowly
to the ground, and as she touched, Dejah Thoris and I stepped from
her deck and, hand in hand, turned back across the frozen waste
toward the city of Kadabra.
Through the tunnel that had led me in pursuit of them we passed,
walking slowly, for we had much to say to each other.
She told me of that last terrible moment months before when the
door of her prison cell within the Temple of the Sun was slowly
closing between us. Of how Phaidor had sprung upon her with
uplifted dagger, and of Thuvia's shriek as she had realized the
foul intention of the Thern goddess.
It had been that cry that had rung in my ears all the long,
weary months that I had been left in cruel doubt as to my
princess' fate; for I had not known that Thuvia had wrested
the blade from the daughter of Matai Shang before it had
touched either Dejah Thoris or herself.
She told me, too, of the awful eternity of her imprisonment.
Of the cruel hatred of Phaidor, and the tender love of Thuvia,
and of how even when despair was the darkest those two red girls
had clung to the same hope and belief--that John Carter would
find a way to release them.
Presently we came to the chamber of Solan. I had been proceeding
without thought of caution, for I was sure that the city and the
palace were both in the hands of my friends by this time.
And so it was that I bolted into the chamber full into
the midst of a dozen nobles of the court of Salensus Oll.
They were passing through on their way to the outside world
along the corridors we had just traversed.
At sight of us they halted in their tracks, and then an ugly
smile overspread the features of their leader.
"The author of all our misfortunes!" he cried, pointing at me.
"We shall have the satisfaction of a partial vengeance at least
when we leave behind us here the dead and mutilated corpses of the
Prince and Princess of Helium.
"When they find them," he went on, jerking his thumb upward toward
the palace above, "they will realize that the vengeance of the
yellow man costs his enemies dear. Prepare to die, John Carter,
but that your end may be the more bitter, know that I may change
my intention as to meting a merciful death to your princess--
possibly she shall be preserved as a plaything for my nobles."
I stood close to the instrument-covered wall--Dejah Thoris at my side.
She looked up at me wonderingly as the warriors advanced upon us with
drawn swords, for mine still hung within its scabbard at my side,
and there was a smile upon my lips.
The yellow nobles, too, looked in surprise, and then as I made
no move to draw they hesitated, fearing a ruse; but their leader
urged them on. When they had come almost within sword's reach of
me I raised my hand and laid it upon the polished surface of a
great lever, and then, still smiling grimly, I looked my enemies
full in the face.
As one they came to a sudden stop, casting affrighted glances
at me and at one another.
"Stop!" shrieked their leader. "You dream not what you do!"
"Right you are," I replied. "John Carter does not dream.
He knows--knows that should one of you take another step toward
Dejah Thoris, Princess of Helium, I pull this lever wide,
and she and I shall die together; but we shall not die alone."
The nobles shrank back, whispering together for a few moments.
At last their leader turned to me.
"Go your way, John Carter," he said, "and we shall go ours."
"Prisoners do not go their own way," I answered, "and you are
prisoners--prisoners of the Prince of Helium."
Before they could make answer a door upon the opposite side of
the apartment opened and a score of yellow men poured into the
apartment. For an instant the nobles looked relieved, and then as
their eyes fell upon the leader of the new party their faces fell,
for he was Talu, rebel Prince of Marentina, and they knew that they
could look for neither aid nor mercy at his hands.
"Well done, John Carter," he cried. "You turn their own
mighty power against them. Fortunate for Okar is it that you were
here to prevent their escape, for these be the greatest villains
north of the ice-barrier, and this one"--pointing to the leader of
the party--"would have made himself Jeddak of Jeddaks in the place
of the dead Salensus Oll. Then indeed would we have had a more
villainous ruler than the hated tyrant who fell before your sword."
The Okarian nobles now submitted to arrest, since nothing but
death faced them should they resist, and, escorted by the warriors
of Talu, we made our way to the great audience chamber that had
been Salensus Oll's. Here was a vast concourse of warriors.
Red men from Helium and Ptarth, yellow men of the north,
rubbing elbows with the blacks of the First Born who had come
under my friend Xodar to help in the search for me and my princess.
There were savage, green warriors from the dead Sea bottoms
of the south, and a handful of white-skinned therns who had
renounced their religion and sworn allegiance to Xodar.
There was Tardos Mors and Mors Kajak, and tall and mighty in his
gorgeous warrior trappings, Carthoris, my son. These three fell
upon Dejah Thoris as we entered the apartment, and though the lives
and training of royal Martians tend not toward vulgar demonstration,
I thought that they would suffocate her with their embraces.
And there were Tars Tarkas, Jeddak of Thark, and Kantos Kan,
my old-time friends, and leaping and tearing at my harness
in the exuberance of his great love was dear old Woola--
frantic mad with happiness.
Long and loud was the cheering that burst forth at sight of us;
deafening was the din of ringing metal as the veteran warriors
of every Martian clime clashed their blades together on high in
token of success and victory, but as I passed among the throng
of saluting nobles and warriors, jeds and jeddaks, my heart
still was heavy, for there were two faces missing that I would have
given much to have seen there--Thuvan Dihn and Thuvia of Ptarth
were not to be found in the great chamber.
I made inquiries concerning them among men of every nation,
and at last from one of the yellow prisoners of war I learned that
they had been apprehended by an officer of the palace as they
sought to reach the Pit of Plenty while I lay imprisoned there.
I did not need to ask to know what had sent them thither--
the courageous Jeddak and his loyal daughter. My informer
said that they lay now in one of the many buried dungeons
of the palace where they had been placed pending a decision
as to their fate by the tyrant of the north.
A moment later searching parties were scouring the ancient pile
in search of them, and my cup of happiness was full when I saw
them being escorted into the room by a cheering guard of honor.
Thuvia's first act was to rush to the side of Dejah Thoris,
and I needed no better proof of the love these two bore for
each other than the sincerity with which they embraced.
Looking down upon that crowded chamber stood the silent and
empty throne of Okar.
Of all the strange scenes it must have witnessed since that
long-dead age that had first seen a Jeddak of Jeddaks take his
seat upon it, none might compare with that upon which it now
looked down, and as I pondered the past and future of that
long-buried race of black-bearded yellow men I thought that
I saw a brighter and more useful existence for them among
the great family of friendly nations that now stretched
from the south pole almost to their very doors.
Twenty-two years before I had been cast, naked and a stranger,
into this strange and savage world. The hand of every race and
nation was raised in continual strife and warring against the men
of every other land and color. Today, by the might of my sword and
the loyalty of the friends my sword had made for me, black man and
white, red man and green rubbed shoulders in peace and good-fellowship.
All the nations of Barsoom were not yet as one, but a great stride
forward toward that goal had been taken, and now if I could but
cement the fierce yellow race into this solidarity of nations
I should feel that I had rounded out a great lifework,
and repaid to Mars at least a portion of the immense debt of
gratitude I owed her for having given me my Dejah Thoris.
And as I thought, I saw but one way, and a single man who could
insure the success of my hopes. As is ever the way with me,
I acted then as I always act--without deliberation and
Those who do not like my plans and my ways of promoting them
have always their swords at their sides wherewith to back up their
disapproval; but now there seemed to be no dissenting voice, as,
grasping Talu by the arm, I sprang to the throne that had once been
"Warriors of Barsoom," I cried, "Kadabra has fallen, and with her
the hateful tyrant of the north; but the integrity of Okar must
be preserved. The red men are ruled by red jeddaks, the green
warriors of the ancient seas acknowledge none but a green ruler,
the First Born of the south pole take their law from black Xodar;
nor would it be to the interests of either yellow or red man were
a red Jeddak to sit upon the throne of Okar.
"There be but one warrior best fitted for the ancient and mighty
title of Jeddak of Jeddaks of the North. men of Okar, raise
your swords to your new ruler--Talu, the rebel Prince of Marentina!"
And then a great cry of rejoicing rose among the free men of
Marentina and the Kadabran prisoners, for all had thought that the
red men would retain that which they had taken by force of arms,
for such had been the way upon Barsoom, and that they should be
ruled henceforth by an alien Jeddak.
The victorious warriors who had followed Carthoris joined in the
mad demonstration, and amidst the wild confusion and the tumult
and the cheering, Dejah Thoris and I passed out into the gorgeous
garden of the jeddaks that graces the inner courtyard of the
palace of Kadabra.
At our heels walked Woola, and upon a carved seat of wondrous beauty
beneath a bower of purple blooms we saw two who had preceded us--
Thuvia of Ptarth and Carthoris of Helium.
The handsome head of the handsome youth was bent low above the
beautiful face of his companion. I looked at Dejah Thoris,
smiling, and as I drew her close to me I whispered: "Why not?"
Indeed, why not? What matter ages in this world of perpetual youth?
We remained at Kadabra, the guests of Talu, until after his
formal induction into office, and then, upon the great fleet which
I had been so fortunate to preserve from destruction, we sailed
south across the ice-barrier; but not before we had witnessed the
total demolition of the grim Guardian of the North under orders of
the new Jeddak of Jeddaks.
"Henceforth," he said, as the work was completed, "the fleets
of the red men and the black are free to come and go across the
ice-barrier as over their own lands.
"The Carrion Caves shall be cleansed, that the green men may
find an easy way to the land of the yellow, and the hunting of the
sacred apt shall be the sport of my nobles until no single specimen
of that hideous creature roams the frozen north."
We bade our yellow friends farewell with real regret, as we
set sail for Ptarth. There we remained, the guest of Thuvan Dihn,
for a month; and I could see that Carthoris would have remained
forever had he not been a Prince of Helium.
Above the mighty forests of Kaol we hovered until word from
Kulan Tith brought us to his single landing-tower, where all day
and half a night the vessels disembarked their crews. At the city
of Kaol we visited, cementing the new ties that had been formed
between Kaol and Helium, and then one long-to-be-remembered day we
sighted the tall, thin towers of the twin cities of Helium.
The people had long been preparing for our coming. The sky
was gorgeous with gaily trimmed fliers. Every roof within both
cities was spread with costly silks and tapestries.
Gold and jewels were scattered over roof and street and plaza,
so that the two cities seemed ablaze with the fires of the hearts
of the magnificent stones and burnished metal that reflected the
brilliant sunlight, changing it into countless glorious hues.
At last, after twelve years, the royal family of Helium was
reunited in their own mighty city, surrounded by joy-mad millions
before the palace gates. women and children and mighty warriors
wept in gratitude for the fate that had restored their beloved
Tardos Mors and the divine princess whom the whole nation idolized.
Nor did any of us who had been upon that expedition of indescribable
danger and glory lack for plaudits.
That night a messenger came to me as I sat with Dejah Thoris
and Carthoris upon the roof of my city palace, where we had long
since caused a lovely garden to be made that we three might find
seclusion and quiet happiness among ourselves, far from the pomp
and ceremony of court, to summon us to the Temple of Reward--
"where one is to be judged this night," the summons concluded.
I racked my brain to try and determine what important case
there might be pending which could call the royal family from
their palaces on the eve of their return to Helium after years
of absence; but when the Jeddak summons no man delays.
As our flier touched the landing stage at the temple's top we
saw countless other craft arriving and departing. In the streets
below a great multitude surged toward the great gates of the Temple.
Slowly there came to me the recollection of the deferred doom that
awaited me since that time I had been tried here in the Temple by
Zat Arras for the sin of returning from the Valley Dor and the
Lost Sea of Korus.
Could it be possible that the strict sense of justice which
dominates the men of Mars had caused them to overlook the
great good that had come out of my heresy? Could they ignore the
fact that to me, and me alone, was due the rescue of Carthoris,
of Dejah Thoris, of Mors Kajak, of Tardos Mors?
I could not believe it, and yet for what other purpose could I
have been summoned to the Temple of Reward immediately upon the
return of Tardos Mors to his throne?
My first surprise as I entered the Temple and approached the Throne
of Righteousness was to note the men who sat there as judges.
There was Kulan Tith, Jeddak of Kaol, whom we had but just left
within his own palace a few days since; there was Thuvan Dihn,
Jeddak of Ptarth--how came he to Helium as soon as we?
There was Tars Tarkas, Jeddak of Thark, and Xodar, Jeddak of
the First Born; there was Talu, Jeddak of Jeddaks of the North,
whom I could have sworn was still in his ice-bound hothouse city
beyond the northern barrier, and among them sat Tardos Mors and
Mors Kajak, with enough lesser jeds and jeddaks to make up the
thirty-one who must sit in judgment upon their fellow-man.
A right royal tribunal indeed, and such a one, I warrant, as never
before sat together during all the history of ancient Mars.
As I entered, silence fell upon the great concourse of people that
packed the auditorium. Then Tardos Mors arose.
"John Carter," he said in his deep, martial voice, "take your place
upon the Pedestal of Truth, for you are to be tried by a fair and
impartial tribunal of your fellow-men."
With level eye and high-held head I did as he bade, and as I glanced
about that circle of faces that a moment before I could have sworn
contained the best friends I had upon Barsoom, I saw no single
friendly glance--only stern, uncompromising judges, there to
do their duty.
A clerk rose and from a great book read a long list of the more
notable deeds that I had thought to my credit, covering a long
period of twenty-two years since first I had stepped the ocher Sea
bottom beside the incubator of the Tharks. With the others he read
of all that I had done within the circle of the Otz Mountains where
the Holy Therns and the First Born had held sway.
It is the way upon Barsoom to recite a man's virtues with his sins
when he is come to trial, and so I was not surprised that all that
was to my credit should be read there to my judges--who knew it
all by heart--even down to the present moment. When the reading
had ceased Tardos Mors arose.
"Most righteous judges," he exclaimed, "you have heard recited
all that is known of John Carter, Prince of Helium--the good
with the bad. What is your judgment?"
Then Tars Tarkas came slowly to his feet, unfolding all his mighty,
towering height until he loomed, a green-bronze statue, far above us all.
He turned a baleful eye upon me--he, Tars Tarkas, with whom I had fought
through countless battles; whom I loved as a brother.
I could have wept had I not been so mad with rage that I
almost whipped my sword out and had at them all upon the spot.
"Judges," he said, "there can be but one verdict. No longer may
John Carter be Prince of Helium"--he paused--"but instead let
him be Jeddak of Jeddaks, Warlord of Barsoom!"
As the thirty-one judges sprang to their feet with drawn and
upraised swords in unanimous concurrence in the verdict, the storm
broke throughout the length and breadth and height of that mighty
building until I thought the roof would fall from the thunder of
the mad shouting.
Now, at last, I saw the grim humor of the method they had adopted
to do me this great honor, but that there was any hoax in the
reality of the title they had conferred upon me was readily
disproved by the sincerity of the congratulations that were
heaped upon me by the judges first and then the nobles.
Presently fifty of the mightiest nobles of the greatest courts
of Mars marched down the broad Aisle of Hope bearing a splendid
car upon their shoulders, and as the people saw who sat within,
the cheers that had rung out for me paled into insignificance beside
those which thundered through the vast edifice now, for she whom
the nobles carried was Dejah Thoris, beloved Princess of Helium.
Straight to the Throne of Righteousness they bore her, and there
Tardos Mors assisted her from the car, leading her forward to my side.
"Let a world's most beautiful woman share the honor of her husband,"
Before them all I drew my wife close to me and kissed her upon the lips.
Warlord of Mars Chapter 15
... Warlord of Mars