The Chessmen of Mars | Page 4

and in this, to
earthly eyes, strange habiliment. We may thank Kar Komak, the bowman of Lothar. It
was he who gave me the idea upon which I have been experimenting until at last I have
achieved success. As you know I have long possessed the power to cross the void in spirit,
but never before have I been able to impart to inanimate things a similar power. Now,
however, you see me for the first time precisely as my Martian fellows see me--you see
the very short-sword that has tasted the blood of many a savage foeman; the harness with
the devices of Helium and the insignia of my rank; the pistol that was presented to me by
Tars Tarkas, Jeddak of Thark.
"Aside from seeing you, which is my principal reason for being here, and satisfying
myself that I can transport inanimate things from Mars to Earth, and therefore animate
things if I so desire, I have no purpose. Earth is not for me. My every interest is upon
Barsoom--my wife, my children, my work; all are there. I will spend a quiet evening with
you and then back to the world I love even better than I love life."
As he spoke he dropped into the chair upon the opposite side of the chess table.
"You spoke of children," I said. "Have you more than Carthoris?"
"A daughter," he replied, "only a little younger than Carthoris, and, barring one, the
fairest thing that ever breathed the thin air of dying Mars. Only Dejah Thoris, her mother,
could be more beautiful than Tara of Helium."
For a moment he fingered the chessmen idly. "We have a game on Mars similar to
chess," he said, "very similar.
And there is a race there that plays it grimly with men and naked swords. We call the
game jetan. It is played on a board like yours, except that there are a hundred squares and
we use twenty pieces on each side. I never see it played without thinking of Tara of
Helium and what befell her among the chessmen of Barsoom. Would you like to hear her
story?"
I said that I would and so he told it to me, and now I shall try to re-tell it for you as nearly
in the words of The Warlord of Mars as I can recall them, but in the third person. If there
be inconsistencies and errors, let the blame fall not upon John Carter, but rather upon my
faulty memory, where it belongs. It is a strange tale and utterly Barsoomian.

CHAPTER I
TARA IN A TANTRUM
TARA of Helium rose from the pile of silks and soft furs upon which she had been
reclining, stretched her lithe body languidly, and crossed toward the center of the room,
where, above a large table, a bronze disc depended from the low ceiling. Her carriage was
that of health and physical perfection--the effortless harmony of faultless coordination. A

scarf of silken gossamer crossing over one shoulder was wrapped about her body; her
black hair was piled high upon her head. With a wooden stick she tapped upon the bronze
disc, lightly, and presently the summons was answered by a slave girl, who entered,
smiling, to be greeted similarly by her mistress.
"Are my father's guests arriving?" asked the princess.
"Yes, Tara of Helium, they come," replied the slave. "I have seen Kantos Kan, Overlord
of the Navy, and Prince Soran of Ptarth, and Djor Kantos, son of Kantos Kan," she shot a
roguish glance at her mistress as she mentioned Djor Kantos' name, "and--oh, there were
others, many have come."
"The bath, then, Uthia," said her mistress. "And why, Uthia," she added, "do you look
thus and smile when you mention the name of Djor Kantos?"
The slave girl laughed gaily. "It is so plain to all that he worships you," she replied.
"It is not plain to me," said Tara of Helium. "He is the friend of my brother, Carthoris,
and so he is here much; but not to see me. It is his friendship for Carthoris that brings him
thus often to the palace of my father."
"But Carthoris is hunting in the north with Talu, Jeddak of Okar," Uthia reminded her.
"My bath, Uthia!" cried Tara of Helium. "That tongue of yours will bring you to some
misadventure yet."
"The bath is ready, Tara of Helium," the girl responded, her eyes still twinkling with
merriment, for she well knew that in the heart of her mistress was no anger that could
displace the love of the princess for her slave. Preceding the daughter of The Warlord she
opened the door of an adjoining room where lay the bath--a gleaming pool of scented
water in a marble basin. Golden stanchions