Thuvia Maid of Mars | Page 9

Edgar Rice Burroughs
Peace in which were housed the representatives of the foreign powers,
or rather in which were located their embassies; for the ministers themselves dwelt in
gorgeous palaces within the district occupied by the nobles.
Here the man sought the embassy of Dusar. A clerk arose questioningly as he entered,
and at his request to have a word with the minister asked his credentials. The visitor
slipped a plain metal armlet from above his elbow, and pointing to an inscription upon its
inner surface, whispered a word or two to the clerk.
The latter's eyes went wide, and his attitude turned at once to one of deference. He bowed
the stranger to a seat, and hastened to an inner room with the armlet in his hand. A
moment later he reappeared and conducted the caller into the presence of the minister.
For a long time the two were closeted together, and when at last the giant serving man
emerged from the inner office his expression was cast in a smile of sinister satisfaction.
From the Palace of Peace he hurried directly to the palace of the Dusarian minister.
That night two swift fliers left the same palace top. One sped its rapid course toward
Helium; the other--
Thuvia of Ptarth strolled in the gardens of her father's palace, as was her nightly custom
before retiring. Her silks and furs were drawn about her, for the air of Mars is chill after
the sun has taken his quick plunge beneath the planet's western verge.
The girl's thoughts wandered from her impending nuptials, that would make her empress
of Kaol, to the person of the trim young Heliumite who had laid his heart at her feet the
preceding day.
Whether it was pity or regret that saddened her expression as she gazed toward the
southern heavens where she had watched the lights of his flier disappear the previous
night, it would be difficult to say.
So, too, is it impossible to conjecture just what her emotions may have been as she
discerned the lights of a flier speeding rapidly out of the distance from that very direction,
as though impelled toward her garden by the very intensity of the princess' thoughts.
She saw it circle lower above the palace until she was positive that it but hovered in
preparation for a landing.

Presently the powerful rays of its searchlight shot downward from the bow. They fell
upon the landing-stage for a brief instant, revealing the figures of the Ptarthian guard,
picking into brilliant points of fire the gems upon their gorgeous harnesses.
Then the blazing eye swept onward across the burnished domes and graceful minarets,
down into court and park and garden to pause at last upon the ersite bench and the girl
standing there beside it, her face upturned full toward the flier.
For but an instant the searchlight halted upon Thuvia of Ptarth, then it was extinguished
as suddenly as it had come to life. The flier passed on above her to disappear beyond a
grove of lofty skeel trees that grew within the palace grounds.
The girl stood for some time as it had left her, except that her head was bent and her eyes
downcast in thought.
Who but Carthoris could it have been? She tried to feel anger that he should have
returned thus, spying upon her; but she found it difficult to be angry with the young
prince of Helium.
What mad caprice could have induced him so to transgress the etiquette of nations? For
lesser things great powers had gone to war.
The princess in her was shocked and angered--but what of the girl!
And the guard--what of them? Evidently they, too, had been so much surprised by the
unprecedented action of the stranger that they had not even challenged; but that they had
no thought to let the thing go unnoticed was quickly evidenced by the skirring of motors
upon the landing-stage and the quick shooting airward of a long-lined patrol boat.
Thuvia watched it dart swiftly eastward. So, too, did other eyes watch.
Within the dense shadows of the skeel grove, in a wide avenue beneath o'erspreading
foliage, a flier hung a dozen feet above the ground. From its deck keen eyes watched the
far-fanning searchlight of the patrol boat. No light shone from the enshadowed craft.
Upon its deck was the silence of the tomb. Its crew of a half-dozen red warriors watched
the lights of the patrol boat diminishing in the distance.
"The intellects of our ancestors are with us to-night," said one in a low tone.
"No plan ever carried better," returned another. "They did precisely as the prince
foretold."
He who had first spoken turned toward the man who squatted before the control board.
"Now!" he whispered. There was no other
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