3 - Barbarians of Mars (12 page)

 
          
 
It was not my intention to engage the cat-folk
in battle with the barbarians - or, indeed, to set out to harm the barbarians,
who had been led into danger by Rokin. I hoped that a display of strength and
some sensible Words, coupled with the information that Rokin was now dead,
would encourage them to fall in with us.

 
          
 
Things were not to happen quite like that, but
I did not real"* ize it at the time.

THE MACHINES ARE GONE!

 
          
 
It took us some time to reach the coast, and a
little longer to retrace my steps to where I had left the ship.

 
          
 
As we neared the ship I noticed that something
seemed wrong. No guards moved on the deck, all appeared as still as the grave.

 
          
 
I began to trot faster, the cat-men following
me. There were some twenty of them, well armed with bows and swords, and they
hardly realized what a tremendous comfort they were to me on this Western
continent.

 
          
 
When I reached the ship I saw signs that some
kind of fight had taken place.

 
          
 
Two dead barbarians were next revealed,
savagely beaten to death.

 
          
 
Zapha, the captain commanding the cat-men,
inspected the ground. Then his intelligent cat's face looked up at me
thoughtfully.

 
          
 
"More victims for the First Masters, if
I'm not mistaken, Michael Kane," he said. "The men of Hahg have been
here -they have taken prisoners."

 
          
 
"They must be saved," I said grimly.

 
          
 
He shook his head. "The men of Hahg must
have wondered where you came from and followed your trucks back. This happened
two days ago. The First Masters will not go back to the Crystal Pit yet, but
you were only saved from the sport of the men of Hahg because your appearance
coincided with the latest visit of the First Masters."

 
          
 
"What sport is that?"

 
          
 
"A grisly one - torture
of a dreadful kind.
I do not think you will find your friends alive in
the mind now - though they'll live until the next visit of the First
Masters."

 
          
 
I felt horrified and then depressed.
"Still, we shall have to do what we can," I said firmly.

 
          
 
I clambered up the side of the ship and walked
across the sloping deck towards the hold where I knew the machines were stored.

 
          
 
I looked down.

 
          
 
I saw nothing but brackish water.

 
          
 
"The machines are gone!" I
cried,
running back to the broken rail and calling to the cat-men.

 
          
 
"The machines are gone!"

 
          
 
Zapha looked up at me with surprise in his
eyes. "They have taken them? It is not like them to do anything but
capture victims for the First Masters."

 
          
 
"Nonetheless, they are gone," I
said, climbing down the side of the ship.

 
          
 
'Then we must hurry back to the village of the
Hahg and see if we can recover them," Zapha said boldly.

 
          
 
We turned and began to go back the way we had
come.

 
          
 
"We must get additional forces before we
do that," I said.

 
          
 
"Perhaps," said Zapha thoughtfully.
"But this number has been enough in the past."

 
          
 
"You have attacked the Hahg before?"

 
          
 
"When necessary - to
save our own folk usually."

 
          
 
"I cannot draw you into this fight,"
I said.

 
          
 
"Do not worry. This fight is ours and
yours - it is linked because the cause is common," said Zapha firmly.

 
          
 
I respected his words and understood his
feelings.

 
          
 
Thus we set off hurriedly for the Hahg
encampment.

 
          
 
As we neared the encampment, Zapha and his
followers began to show more caution and Zapha signed to me to follow him.

 
          
 
I could not move with the grace of the
cat-folk, who now advanced completely silently through the forest, but I did.

           
 
Soon we lay in the undergrowth, peering at the
squalid Hahg village, which, I had learned, was built on the ruins left behind
by the First Masters when they had gone to the mountains.

 
          
 
From somewhere we heard mindless cries of
agony and I knew what they signified.

           
 
This time Zapha stayed my hand as.
Impulsively, I made to rise.

 
          
 
"Not yet," he said, only just
audibly.

 
          
 
I remembered a similar warning I had given
Hool Haji and realized that Zapha was right. Action we would take - but only at
the right moment.

 
          
 
Looking about the camp I suddenly saw the
machines. They were surrounded by a group of grunting dog-men, who were poking
at them in what appeared to be mystification.

 
          
 
What impulse had led them to go to the trouble
of hauling the machines here?
Some atavistic memory?
Some association with the First Masters whom they tried, at such
pitiful and inhuman cost, to please?

 
          
 
Perhaps that was half the answer. I did not
know.

 
          
 
The fact remained that here they were and we
must somehow recapture them. We must also rescue what remained of the tortured
barbarians.

 
          
 
Suddenly there came a disturbance in the air
above us and I was astonished to see the First Masters descending into the
village.

 
          
 
Zapha was as astonished as I was.

 
          
 
"Why are they here?" I whispered.
"Surely they only go to the Crystal Pit to feed every five hundred shatis!"

 
          
 
"I cannot imagine," Zapha said.
"We are witnessing something important, I think, Michael Kane, though I
cannot understand at this point what it signifies!"

 
          
 
With a great noise of leathery, beating wings,
the First Masters landed near the machines and the dog-folk withdrew
obsequiously.

 
          
 
Again I got the impression of some atavistic
impulse working in the First Masters as they strutted, like stupid birds of
prey, among the machines.

 
          
 
Suddenly one of them reached out and touched
part of a machine that seemed to me merely ornamentation. Immediately a weird
humming began to fill the air and the machine that had been activated began to
shudder.

 
          
 
The dog-folk cowered back. Then the First
Master who had originally touched the activating stud touched it again. The
humming ceased.

 
          
 
As it disturbed by this, the First Masters
began to take to the air again, disappearing as rapidly and as mysteriously as
they had come.

 
          
 
We watched as the dog-people slowly returned
to sniff at the machines.

 
          
 
The pack-leader barked out some kind of order.
The vines which had been used to haul the machines to the village were picked
up and the dog-men began pulling them away in the opposite direction.

 
          
 
"Where are they taking them?" I
whispered to Zapha.

 
          
 
"I only heard a little of what the leader
said," replied Zapha. "I think they are going to the Crystal Pit.”

 
          
 
"They are taking the machines there? I
wonder why."

 
          
 
"It does not matter at this moment,
Michael Kane. What does matter is that they are leaving the village almost
undefended. This will give us a chance to rescue your friends first."

 
          
 
I did not quarrel with his description of the
barbarians. They had been no real friends to me, but I felt I owed them
something as human beings who had shown their prisoners at least some kind of
rough respect.

 
          
 
We walked boldly into the village when the
dog-men hauling the machines had gone. Those who remained saw that we
outnumbered them and allowed their women and children to draw them back into
their dark shelters.

 
          
 
Poor creatures I Cowardice had become their
way of life.

 
          
 
The cat-folk did not bother them, but went to
the shelter from where the moans had come earlier. There were none now and I
assumed the barbarians had passed out.

 
          
 
But the two barbarians in the shelter had not
passed out.

 
          
 
They had killed themselves. From the beam of
the shelter a rope hung. It had been looped over and a noose formed at either
end.

 
          
 
Hanging, with their necks in
the nooses, were
the two barbarians.

 
          
 
I leapt forward with the idea of cutting them
down but Zapha shook his head.

 
          
 
"They are dead," he said.
"Perhaps it is best.”

 
          
 
“I am tempted to avenge them here and
now," I said harshly, turning towards the entrance.

 
          
 
"It was you who told us of the real cause
of all this, Michael Kane," Zapha reminded me.

 
          
 
I controlled my emotions and left the place of
death.

 
          
 
Zapha came out with me.

 
          
 
"Let us follow the Hahg to the Crystal
Pit now," he said. "We might learn something. Perhaps that is where
the First Masters have gone, too."

 
          
 
I agreed, and we left the village and the
stench of fear behind us.

THE DANCE OF THE FIRST MASTERS

 
          
 
The long grass hid our approach up to the Crystal
Pit and we lay observing the weird sight before us.

 
          
 
The dog-people had by this time almost dragged
the machines up to the brink of the scintillating pit.

 
          
 
I watched, uncertain what to do, as they
heaved them over the edge. I heard them slide down, some of them seeming to
protest with a screaming noise created by the friction as they slid into the
pit.

 
          
 
Just as they had done with us, the dog-people
began to back away from the edge once the last machine had been deposited. I
knew that the Yaksha machines were durable enough not to have been harmed by
the way they had been handled.

 
          
 
Then, in the distance, I saw the First Masters
come winging to settle into the pit like vultures upon a corpse.

 
          
 
For a moment all of them were obscured from
our view by the sides of the pit; then they came flapping up again, in some
sort of order, until they had formed a circle, hovering again in the air above
the Crystal Pit.

 
          
 
Now they began to perform a weird, aerial
dance, following a pattern which I could not at once understand.

 
          
 
The dance went on, becoming more and more
frenetic, and yet keeping its order, no matter how fast the First Masters flew.

 
          
 
There was something almost pathetic about this
dance and, not for the first time, I could sympathize a little with the long
forgotten impulses which had driven the First Masters to become the mindless
things they now were.

 
          
 
On and on went the dance of the First Masters;
faster and faster they whirled in the air above the Crystal Pit. Whether it was
a ritual of homage to the machines or a dance of hatred I shall never know.

 
          
 
What I do know, however, is that some of their
insensate emotion was reflected in me, and I watched in awe as it went on.

 
          
 
Finally one of their number dived swiftly into
the pit. A second followed, then another and yet another, until all were once
again hidden from our view.

 
          
 
I assumed that they must have activated
something in the machines.

 
          
 
Suddenly there came a vast eruption from the
Crystal Pit, a pillar of fire that rose hundreds of feet into the air.

 
          
 
The atmosphere was torn by a great, screaming
roar. The dog-people had not had time to retreat to a safe distance. Every one
of them was consumed in the blast of energy from the pit.

 
          
 
For a few moments the pillar of fire continued
to rise higher and higher. Then it subsided.

 
          
 
The air was still.

 
          
 
Nothing moved.

 
          
 
Zapha and the other cat-folk said nothing. We
simply exchanged glances that showed our deep bewilderment at what we had just
witnessed.

 
          
 
There was no longer any possibility of
discovering if one of the machines was the one I needed. I would just have to
hope that the one I wanted - if it still existed - survived somewhere else.

 
          
 
The First Masters were dead, taking most of
their servants with them.

 
          
 
Back in the cat village, we told the folk of
Purha what we had seen.

 
          
 
There was an atmosphere of quiet jubilation
about the village then, though the cat-people were contemplative enough to
brood on the significance of what we told them - though its true significance
was hard to fathom.

 
          
 
Some death-wish had been tapped in the First
Masters, some ancient drive which had taken them to the destruction of
themselves as human beings - and now as entities.

 
          
 
A cycle seemed to have been completed. It
would be best to forget it, I felt.

 
          
 
My next objective must be to find Bagarad.

 
          
 
There the other stolen machines remained - or
so I hoped.

 
          
 
There I might find what I sought.

 
          
 
I discussed this with the cat-people and they
told me that they felt it their duty to go with me to Bagarad. I told them that
their company would be welcome, particularly since I still mourned the loss of
Hool Haji. But I did not wish to get them involved in any fighting.

 
          
 
"Let us decide whether the fighting
should involve us or not," said Zapha with a quiet smile.

 
          
 
Fasa now spoke up. "I would go with you,
Michael Kane, but it is hard for me to leave at the moment. Take this, however,
and hope it brings you luck."

 
          
 
She handed to me a needle-thin dagger which
could be fitted behind my harness. In some ways it resembled the hidden
skinning knife of the Mendishar and it was intended to be used for the same
purpose - if danger threatened.

 
          
 
I accepted it gratefully, commenting on the
weapon's precise workmanship.

 
          
 
"A little rest," I said, "if I
may, and we'll be off to seek Bagarad.”

 
          
 
The wise old cat-man, Slurra, brought out some
tablets which he had told me of earlier.

 
          
 
"Here is the only map we have," he
said. "It is probably inexact, but it still
show
you the general direction to take in order to reach the country of the
barbarians."

 
          
 
I accepted this also with an expression of
thanks. He raised his hand.

 
          
 
"Do not thank us - let us thank you that
we can repay all you have done for us, both with your actions and your
words," he said. "I only hope that you will return to Purha some day,
when the world is tranquil."

 
          
 
"It will be one of the first things I
shall do," I promised, "if I ever accomplish my mission and remain
alive."

 
          
 
"If it is possible, Michael Kane, you
will do it - and live." He smiled.

 
          
 
Next morning,
myself
,
Zapha and a party of cat-men set off for Bagarad, which lay to the south of the
land of the cat-people.

 
          
 
Our journey was a long one, and involved
crossing a mountain range where, to our sorrow, we lost one of our
number
.

 
          
 
But on the other side of the valley we
encountered a land of friendly, farming folk who willingly gave us daharas in
exchange for some of the cat-folk's artifacts, which they had brought along for
this purpose.

 
          
 
The cat-folk were not used to riding, but
their quick intelligence and sense of balance helped, and soon we were all
riding along like old cavalrymen!

 
          
 
The going was fairly easy for several days
until we came to a land of marshes and lowering skies. Here we had difficulty
picking our way along the ribbons of firm ground which crisscrossed the
marshes.

 
          
 
It seemed to be drizzling permanently and it
was much colder.

 
          
 
I would be glad when we left this area and
found a pleasanter land.

 
          
 
We spoke little as we rode, concentrating on
guiding our daharas through the marshes.

 
          
 
It was towards evening on the third day of our
journey through the marsh when we first discovered we were being watched.

 
          
 
Zapha, with his quick cat's eyes, noticed it
first and rode up to warn me.

 
          
 
"I have only seen glimpses of them,"
he said, "but there are a number of men out there in the marsh. We had
better be wary of attack."

 
          
 
Then I began to notice them and began to feel
uncomfortable.

 
          
 
It was not until night had fallen that they
suddenly rose from all around us and came silently towards us. They were tall
men, well-shaped but for their heads, which were smaller than they should have
been in proportion to their bodies.

 
          
 
They bore swords - heavy, wide-bladed affairs
which they swung at us and which we met with our lighter weapons.

 
          
 
We were able to defend ourselves well enough,
but in the darkness it was confusing, for these people evidently knew the marsh
and we did not.

 
          
 
I struck about me, keeping them at a distance,
my dahara rearing and snorting and becoming difficult to control. These beasts
were harder to control than the variety found on Southern Mars and part of my
concentration had to be used to quiet my beast as best I could.

 
          
 
I felt a blade nick my arm, but paid little
attention to the wound.

 
          
 
Through the darkness I caught glimpses of my
comrades fighting, and every so often one would go down. So I decided that it
would be best if we made a dash for it, hoping to keep firm ground under our
beasts' feet.

 
          
 
I shouted to Zapha and he yelled back his
agreement. We urged our daharas forward and began to gallop recklessly away
from the men who had attacked us.

 
          
 
On through the night we rode, praying that the
swamp would not take us. The small-headed men behind us appeared to give up the
chase quite soon, and at length we were able to slow down. We decided that,
since the moons had risen, we should continue rather than make camp and risk a
further attack at night.

 
          
 
By morning we were still safe, although once
or twice we had narrowly escaped riding into the marsh, and were very tired.

 
          
 
My wound was aching a little, but I soon bound
it up and forgot about it. We were now near the edge of the marsh and could see
firmer ground ahead of us.

 
          
 
Also we could see the outlines of what
appeared to be a series of buildings, but it was hard to decide whether they
comprised a city or not.

 
          
 
Zapha suggested that we should approach the
place cautiously, but he also thought that it would be a safe place to make
camp if it were uninhabited.

 
          
 
As we approached the buildings we noticed that
they were, in fact, ruined shells of houses. Weeds grew in the streets. It
looked as if, long ago, a fire had destroyed the city.