A Princess of Mars

"This much, Tars Tarkas, you may do for me in return for the friendship

that, I must confess, I feel for you."

"Friendship?" he replied. "There is no such thing, John Carter; but

have your will. I shall direct that Sarkoja cease to annoy the girl,

and I myself will take the custody of the key."

"Unless you wish me to assume the responsibility," I said, smiling.

He looked at me long and earnestly before he spoke.

"Were you to give me your word that neither you nor Dejah Thoris would

attempt to escape until after we have safely reached the court of Tal

Hajus you might have the key and throw the chains into the river Iss."

"It were better that you held the key, Tars Tarkas," I replied He smiled, and said no more, but that night as we were making camp I

saw him unfasten Dejah Thoris' fetters himself.

With all his cruel ferocity and coldness there was an undercurrent of

something in Tars Tarkas which he seemed ever battling to subdue.

Could it be a vestige of some human instinct come back from an ancient

forbear to haunt him with the horror of his people's ways!

As I was approaching Dejah Thoris' chariot I passed Sarkoja, and the

black, venomous look she accorded me was the sweetest balm I had felt

for many hours. Lord, how she hated me! It bristled from her so

palpably that one might almost have cut it with a sword.

A few moments later I saw her deep in conversation with a warrior named

Zad; a big, hulking, powerful brute, but one who had never made a kill

among his own chieftains, and a second name only with the metal of some

chieftain. It was this custom which entitled me to the names of either

of the chieftains I had killed; in fact, some of the warriors addressed

me as Dotar Sojat, a combination of the surnames of the two warrior

chieftains whose metal I had taken, or, in other words, whom I had

slain in fair fight.

As Sarkoja talked with Zad he cast occasional glances in my direction,

while she seemed to be urging him very strongly to some action. I paid

little attention to it at the time, but the next day I had good reason

to recall the circumstances, and at the same time gain a slight insight

into the depths of Sarkoja's hatred and the lengths to which she was

capable of going to wreak her horrid vengeance on me.

Dejah Thoris would have none of me again on this evening, and though I

spoke her name she neither replied, nor conceded by so much as the

flutter of an eyelid that she realized my existence. In my extremity I

did what most other lovers would have done; I sought word from her

through an intimate. In this instance it was Sola whom I intercepted

in another part of camp.