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Updated: May 5, 2025
Thuvia of Ptarth caught her breath quickly, glancing at Carthoris. The device was that of Kulan Tith, Jeddak of Kaol the man to whom the Princess of Ptarth was betrothed! How easy for the Heliumite to pass on, leaving his rival to the fate that could not for long be averted!
Three long-swords clashed and sparkled in the moonlight, until the great white apes, roused from their slumbers, crept to the lowering windows of the dead city to view the bloody scene beneath them. Thrice was Carthoris touched, so that the red blood ran down his face, blinding him and dyeing his broad chest.
And as the Heliumite entered the small building a dozen mighty, grotesque figures emerged from the doorway of the palace to speed noiselessly across the plaza toward him. For half an hour Carthoris remained in the building, digging for water and gaining the few much-needed drops which were the fruits of his labour. Then he rose and slowly left the structure.
With an angry roar the beast walked quickly in their direction, and at the sound of its voice a score of others followed its example. Carthoris drew his long-sword. The girl stole a quick glance at his face.
I felt that Carthoris would not let the matter drop, were he free to act, but in so far as I knew, he also might be a prisoner in Zat Arras' pits. That Zat Arras' spy had overheard our conversation relative to the selection of a new Jeddak, I knew, and scarcely a half-dozen minutes prior we had discussed the details of the plan to rescue Dejah Thoris.
The man upon the dais was eyeing him intently, and Carthoris of Helium was looking straight in the other's face. "Who be these, Jav?" asked the man of him who crawled upon his belly along the floor. "O Tario, most glorious Jeddak," replied Jav, "these be strangers who came with the hordes of Torquas to our gates, saying that they were prisoners of the green men.
"One would expect to see the wounded limping or being carried back to the city," replied Carthoris, with a puzzled frown. "But how about the wounded nearer the city? Have they carried them within?" Both turned their eyes toward the field between them and the walled city, where the fighting had been most furious. There were the banths, still growling about their hideous feast.
But here in the hills, where loose rock occasionally strewed the way; where black loam and wild flowers partially replaced the sombre monotony of the waste places of the lowlands, Carthoris hoped to find some sign that would lead him in the right direction. Yet, search as he would, the baffling mystery of the trail seemed likely to remain for ever unsolved.
Carthoris did not know, nor, with the thought that had been spurring him onward upon the trail of the creature uppermost in his mind, did he much care; for into this gloomy cavern he was sure the banth had trailed the green man and his captive, and into it he, too, would follow, content to give his life in the service of the woman he loved.
"Let my great love be my excuse that, and the belief that I have but a moment more of life," and with the words he turned to meet the foremost of the green warriors. The fellow was charging with couched spear, but Carthoris leaped to one side, and as the great thoat and its rider hurtled harmlessly past him he swung his long-sword in a mighty cut that clove the green carcass in twain.
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