CHAPTER XII
DOOMED TO DIE
For an instant I stood there before they fell upon me, but the
first rush of them forced me back a step or two. My foot felt for
the floor but found only empty space. I had backed into the pit
which had received Issus. For a second I toppled there upon the
brink. Then I too with the boy still tightly clutched in my arms
pitched backward into the black abyss.
We struck a polished chute, the opening above us closed as magically
as it had opened, and we shot down, unharmed, into a dimly lighted
apartment far below the arena.
As I rose to my feet the first thing I saw was the malignant countenance
of Issus glaring at me through the heavy bars of a grated door at
one side of the chamber.
"Rash mortal!" she shrilled. "You shall pay the awful penalty for
your blasphemy in this secret cell. Here you shall lie alone and
in darkness with the carcass of your accomplice festering in its
rottenness by your side, until crazed by loneliness and hunger you
feed upon the crawling maggots that were once a man."
That was all. In another instant she was gone, and the dim light
which had filled the cell faded into Cimmerian blackness.
"Pleasant old lady," said a voice at my side.
"Who speaks?" I asked.
"'Tis I, your companion, who has had the honour this day of fighting
shoulder to shoulder with the greatest warrior that ever wore metal
upon Barsoom."
"I thank God that you are not dead," I said. "I feared for that
nasty cut upon your head."
"It but stunned me," he replied. "A mere scratch."
"Maybe it were as well had it been final," I said. "We seem to be
in a pretty fix here with a splendid chance of dying of starvation
and thirst."
"Where are we?"
"Beneath the arena," I replied. "We tumbled down the shaft that
swallowed Issus as she was almost at our mercy."
He laughed a low laugh of pleasure and relief, and then reaching
out through the inky blackness he sought my shoulder and pulled my
ear close to his mouth.
"Nothing could be better," he whispered. "There are secrets within
the secrets of Issus of which Issus herself does not dream."
"What do you mean?"
"I laboured with the other slaves a year since in the remodelling
of these subterranean galleries, and at that time we found below
these an ancient system of corridors and chambers that had been
sealed up for ages. The blacks in charge of the work explored
them, taking several of us along to do whatever work there might
be occasion for. I know the entire system perfectly.
"There are miles of corridors honeycombing the ground beneath the
gardens and the temple itself, and there is one passage that leads
down to and connects with the lower regions that open on the water
shaft that gives passage to Omean.
"If we can reach the submarine undetected we may yet make the sea
in which there are many islands where the blacks never go. There
we may live for a time, and who knows what may transpire to aid us
to escape?"
He had spoken all in a low whisper, evidently fearing spying ears
even here, and so I answered him in the samesubdued tone.
"Lead back to Shador, my friend," I whispered. "Xodar, the black,
is there. We were to attempt our escape together, so I cannot
desert him."
"No," said the boy, "one cannot desert a friend. It were better
to be recaptured ourselves than that."
Then he commenced groping his way about the floor of the dark
chamber searching for the trap that led to the corridors beneath.
At length he summoned me by a low, "S-s-t," and I crept toward the
sound of his voice to find him kneeling on the brink of an opening
in the floor.
"There is a drop here of about ten feet," he whispered. "Hang
by your hands and you will alight safely on a level floor of soft
sand."
Very quietly I lowered myself from the inky cell above into the
inky pit below. So utterly dark was it that we could not see our
hands at an inch from our noses. Never, I think, have I known such
complete absence of light as existed in the pits of Issus.
For an instant I hung in mid air. There is a strange sensation
connected with an experience of that nature which is quite difficult
to describe. When the feet tread empty air and the distance below
is shrouded in darkness there is a feeling akin to panic at the
thought of releasing the hold and taking the plunge into unknown
depths.
Although the boy had told me that it was but ten feet to the floor
below I experienced the same thrills as though I were hanging above
a bottomless pit. Then I released my hold and dropped--four feet
to a soft cushion of sand.
The boy followed me.
"Raise me to your shoulders," he said, "and I will replace the
trap."
This done he took me by the hand, leading me very slowly, with much
feeling about and frequent halts to assure himself that he did not
stray into wrong passageways.
Presently we commenced the descent of a very steep incline.
"It will not be long," he said, "before we shall have light. At
the lower levels we meet the same strata of phosphorescent rock
that illuminates Omean."
Never shall I forget that trip through the pits of Issus. While
it was devoid of important incidents yet it was filled for me with
a strange charm of excitement and adventure which I think I must
have hinged principally on the unguessable antiquity of these
long-forgotten corridors. The things which the Stygian darkness
hid from my objective eye could not have been half so wonderful as
the pictures which my imagination wrought as it conjured to life
again the ancient peoples of this dying world and set them once
more to the labours, the intrigues, the mysteries and the cruelties
which they had practised to make their last stand against the
swarming hordes of the dead sea bottoms that had driven them step
by step to the uttermost pinnacle of the world where they were now
intrenched behind an impenetrable barrier of superstition.
In addition to the green men there had been three principal races
upon Barsoom. The blacks, the whites, and a race of yellow men.
As the waters of the planet dried and the seas receded, all other
resources dwindled until life upon the planet became a constant
battle for survival.
The various races had made war upon one another for ages, and the
three higher types had easily bested the green savages of the water
places of the world, but now that the receding seas necessitated
constant abandonment of their fortified cities and forced upon them
a more or less nomadic life in which they became separated into
smaller communities they soon fell prey to the fierce hordes of
green men. The result was a partial amalgamation of the blacks,
whites and yellows, the result of which is shown in the present
splendid race of red men.
I had always supposed that all traces of the original races had
disappeared from the face of Mars, yet within the past four days
I had found both whites and blacks in great multitudes. Could it
be possible that in some far-off corner of the planet there still
existed a remnant of the ancient race of yellow men?
My reveries were broken in upon by a low exclamation from the boy.
"At last, the lighted way," he cried, and looking up I beheld at
a long distance before us a dim radiance.
As we advanced the light increased until presently we emerged into
well-lighted passageways. From then on our progress was rapid
until we came suddenly to the end of a corridor that let directly
upon the ledge surrounding the pool of the submarine.
The craft lay at her moorings with uncovered hatch. Raising his
finger to his lips and then tapping his sword in a significant
manner, the youth crept noiselessly toward the vessel. I was close
at his heels.
Silently we dropped to the deserted deck, and on hands and knees
crawled toward the hatchway. A stealthy glance below revealed no
guard in sight, and so with the quickness and the soundlessness
of cats we dropped together into the main cabin of the submarine.
Even here was no sign of life. Quickly we covered and secured the
hatch.
Then the boy stepped into the pilot house, touched a button and
the boat sank amid swirling waters toward the bottom of the shaft.
Even then there was no scurrying of feet as we had expected, and
while the boy remained to direct the boat I slid from cabin to
cabin in futile search for some member of the crew. The craft was
entirely deserted. Such good fortune seemed almost unbelievable.
When I returned to the pilot house to report the good news to my
companion he handed me a paper.
"This may explain the absence of the crew," he said.
It was a radio-aerial message to the commander of the submarine:
"The slaves have risen. Come with what men you have and those that
you can gather on the way. Too late to get aid from Omean. They
are massacring all within the amphitheatre. Issus is threatened.
Haste.
"ZITHAD"
"Zithad is Dator of the guards of Issus," explained the youth. "We
gave them a bad scare--one that they will not soon forget."
"Let us hope that it is but the beginning of the end of Issus," I
said.
"Only our first ancestor knows," he replied.
We reached the submarine pool in Omean without incident. Here
we debated the wisdom of sinking the craft before leaving her,
but finally decided that it would add nothing to our chances for
escape. There were plenty of blacks on Omean to thwart us were
we apprehended; however many more might come from the temples and
gardens of Issus would not in any decrease our chances.
We were now in a quandary as to how to pass the guards who patrolled
the island about the pool. At last I hit upon a plan.
"What is the name or title of the officer in charge of these guards?"
I asked the boy.
"A fellow named Torith was on duty when we entered this morning,"
he replied.
"Good. And what is the name of the commander of the submarine?"
"Yersted."
I found a dispatch blank in the cabin and wrote the following order:
"Dator Torith: Return these two slaves at once to Shador.
"YERSTED"
That will be the simpler way to return," I said, smiling, as I
handed the forged order to the boy. "Come, we shall see now how
well it works."
"But our swords!" he exclaimed. "What shall we say to explain
them?"
"Since we cannot explain them we shall have to leave them behind
us," I replied.
"Is it not the extreme of rashness to thus put ourselves again,
unarmed, in the power of the First Born?"
"It is the only way," I answered. "You may trust me to find a way
out of the prison of Shador, and I think, once out, that we shall
find no great difficulty in arming ourselves once more in a country
which abounds so plentifully in armed men."
"As you say," he replied with a smile and shrug. "I could not
follow another leader who inspired greater confidence than you.
Come, let us put your ruse to the test."
Boldly we emerged from the hatchway of the craft, leaving our swords
behind us, and strode to the main exit which led to the sentry's
post and the office of the Dator of the guard.
At sight of us the members of the guard sprang forward in surprise,
and with levelled rifles halted us. I held out the message to one
of them. He took it and seeing to whom it was addressed turned
and handed it to Torith who was emerging from his office to learn
the cause of the commotion.
The black read the order, and for a moment eyed us with evident
suspicion.
"Where is Dator Yersted?" he asked, and my heart sank within me, as
I cursed myself for a stupid fool in not having sunk the submarine
to make good the lie that I must tell.
"His orders were to return immediately to the temple landing," I
replied.
Torith took a half step toward the entrance to the pool as though
to corroborate my story. For that instant everything hung in the
balance, for had he done so and found the empty submarine still
lying at her wharf the whole weak fabric of my concoction would
have tumbled about our heads; but evidently he decided the message
must be genuine, nor indeed was there any good reason to doubt it
since it would scarce have seemed credible to him that two slaves
would voluntarily have given themselves into custody in any such
manner as this. It was the very boldness of the plan which rendered
it successful.
"Were you connected with the rising of the slaves?" asked Torith.
"We have just had meagre reports of some such event."
"All were involved," I replied. "But it amounted to little. The
guards quickly overcame and killed the majority of us."
He seemed satisfied with this reply. "Take them to Shador," he
ordered, turning to one of his subordinates. We entered a small
boat lying beside the island, and in a few minutes were disembarking
upon Shador. Here we were returned to our respective cells; I with
Xodar, the boy by himself; and behind locked doors we were again
prisoners of the First Born.
