3 - Barbarians of Mars (9 page)

 
          
 
It scintillated, flashing in the sun like a
vast diamond.

 
          
 
It was only as we came closer that I realized
that this must be the Crystal Pit.

 
          
 
It was a pit. Its sides were formed of pure,
faceted crystal that caught the light from so many angles that it was almost
impossible to guess what it was at first.

 
          
 
But where were these First Masters who looked
like Hool Haji? I saw no one but my companions and the dog-men who had brought
us here.

 
          
 
We were carried to the edge of the blinding
pit and our bonds were cut. We looked about wondering what was to happen and
none of us was prepared for the sudden shoves we received. Luckily the pit's
sides were not particularly steep. We slid down to the bottom, barely able to
check our descent, and landed in a heap at the bottom of the Crystal Pit.

 
          
 
As we picked ourselves up we saw the dog-men
retreating from the edge of the pit.

 
          
 
We were unable to guess why we were there, but
we were all of us uneasy, suspecting that we were not merely to be imprisoned
in the Crystal Pit indefinitely.

 
          
 
After about an hour, during which we were
forced to keep our eyes closed most of the time, we gave up trying to scramble
up the sides of the pit and began to try to work out some other means of
escaping.

 
          
 
There seemed none.

 
          
 
Then we heard a sound from above and saw a
face peering down at us.

 
          
 
At first we thought this must be one of the
First Masters, but the face did not fit their description.

 
          
 
Then we saw that it was the face of a girl.

 
          
 
But perhaps girl is the wrong word, for the
face, though intelligent and pleasant to look at, was the mutated face of a
cat. Only the eyes and the pointed ears were evidence of the girl's non-simian
ancestry, but it was as much a surprise to see this cat-girl as it had been to
see the dog-men earlier.

 
          
 
"Are you enemies of the Hounds of
Hahg?"
came
the whispered enquiry from the
cat-girl.

 
          
 
"It seems that they think of us as
such," I replied. "Are you, too, their enemy?"

 
          
 
"All my people - and they are few these
days - hate the dog-folk of Hahg," she replied vehemently. "Many have
been brought here to meet the First Masters."

 
          
 
"Are they your masters, too?" Hool
Haji asked.

 
          
 
"They were - but we rejected them."

 
          
 
"Have you come to save us, girl?"
came Rokin's voice, practical and impatient.

 
          
 
"I have come to try, but there is little
time. Here." She reached over the edge of the pit and slid some objects
down the sides. I saw at once that they were three swords, unlike those we had
seen used by the dog-folk, but still strange. They 318 were shorter than the
swords I was used to, but of excellent workmanship. Picking one up and handing
the others to my companions, I inspected it.

 
          
 
It was light and beautifully tempered.
A little too light for my taste, but far better than nothing.
I felt a little better.

 
          
 
I looked up and saw that the cat-girl's face
had suddenly become anxious.

 
          
 
“Too late to help you from the pit," she
said. "The First Masters come. I wish you well."

 
          
 
And then she was gone.

 
          
 
We waited tensely, swords in hand, wondering
from where the First Masters would appear.

THE FIRST MASTERS

 
          
 
They came from above, their vast wings
flapping noisily in the still air.

 
          
 
They were somewhat smaller than Hool Haji, but
very like him in basic appearance, though their skins were of a much paler
blue, a strange, unhealthy blue that contrasted oddly with their red, gaping
mouths and their long, white tusks. Their wings spread partially from their
shoulders, partially from around their hips.

 
          
 
They seemed more like beasts than men.

 
          
 
Perhaps, as the beasts had become men in the
shape of the dog-folk and the cat-girl who had given us our swords, these men
had become beasts. There was a strange, insensate glow in their eyes that did
not seem to reflect the madness of men but the madness of the beast.

 
          
 
They hovered above us, their huge wings
beating the air, causing a stiff wind to ruffle our hair.

 
          
 
'The Jihadoo!"
Hool Haji gasped unbelievingly.

 
          
 
"What are they?" I asked
,
my gaze fixed on the weird creatures above.

 
          
 
"They are legends in Mendishar - an
ancient race, similar to my own folk, who were shunned from our lands because
of their dark, magical experiments."

 
          
 
"Magic?
I
thought no one in Mendishar believed in such stuff!" I said.

 
          
 
"Of course not.
I told you, the Jihadoo were simply a legend. But now I am no longer certain of
anything,"

 
          
 
"Whatever you call them, they mean us
ill," Rokin the Gold growled, blinking his eyes against the glare of the
Crystal Pit.

 
          
 
One by one the First Masters - or the Jihadoo,
as Hool Haji called them - began to cluster downwards into the pit.

 
          
 
Horrified, I prepared to defend myself.

 
          
 
The first one came sweeping down uttering a
shrill scream, red mouth gaping, fangs bared, claw-fingered hands extended to
clutch me.

 
          
 
I slashed at the hand and drew blood. At least
the Jihadoo were mortal, I remembered thinking as it swerved in the air and
attacked me from another direction. Now others had joined the first and my
comrades were as beset as myself.

 
          
 
I stabbed with the slim sword at the face of
my first attacker and had the satisfaction of taking him in the eye and killing
him.

 
          
 
The First Masters were plainly unprepared for
armed resistance and this was why we survived the first encounters with
comparative ease.

 
          
 
Another came at me, exposing his chest for a perfect
stab into his chest.

 
          
 
The fairly narrow base of the pit helped us,
since not too many of the Jihadoo could get at us at one time, but now we were
forced to clamber on to the corpses of those we had already slain. In some ways
this gave us a firmer footing as we fought.

 
          
 
All was a confusion of beating wings and
fanged faces, glaring eyes and clutching claw-hands. I lopped another's head
off, recoiling as sticky, evil-smelling blood spurted at my face.

 
          
 
Then, suddenly, as I engaged yet another of
the monsters, I felt my shoulders seized in a painful grip.

 
          
 
I tried to turn, to slash at my attacker, but
even as I did so I was hauled into the air and lost my balance for a moment.

 
          
 
I was being borne upwards into the air by one
of the flying man-beasts.

 
          
 
High above the forest now, I still tried to
destroy my captor, even if it meant my own destruction, so abhorrent did it
seem to me.

 
          
 
I saw that Hool Haji and Rokin were in a
similar plight to 321 my own, but the few First Masters who followed us made me
realize with a grim satisfaction just how many of their fellows we had killed.

 
          
 
Twisting in the painful grasp of the claws half-embedded
in my shoulders, I tried to stab backwards at the arms or the torso.

 
          
 
To my right I saw Rokin attempt the same thing
and, because of his golden armour, manage to twist one shoulder out of the
Jihadoo's clutches.

 
          
 
Hanging by the arm which the Jihadoo still
clasped, he began to slash at the centre's chest.

 
          
 
The creature did not retaliate, as I had
expected. It simply released its grip on Rokin's other arm.

 
          
 
In horror I saw the barbarian yell and began
to hurtle towards the rocky ground that had given way to the forest.

 
          
 
I saw his golden armour twisting in the
sunlight, falling rapidly earthwards.

 
          
 
Then I saw it strike the ground.

 
          
 
I saw the armour split open on impact and a
red corpse roll for a moment before becoming still.

 
          
 
I was sickened by the sight.

 
          
 
I knew that Rokin had been a barbarian and an
enemy, but he had been a warm-blooded and, in his own way, generous man - a
human being in the full sense.

 
          
 
And, with Rokin gone, we might never discover
the rest of the machines he had stolen from the Yaksha - assuming, of course,
the unlikely event of our surviving our present predicament.

 
          
 
I swung myself back now, curling my legs
around one of the trailing legs of the Jihadoo. He did not seem to have
anticipated this. Neither had I. It had been sudden inspiration, and now I at
least had some chance of clinging on if he decided to release his grip.

 
          
 
Next, I managed to shift my position so that I
was able to stab at his side with my sword. I began jabbing.

 
          
 
The wounds I was able to inflict were not
serious, but they were sufficient to set him screaming and hissing.

 
          
 
I felt his grip begin to weaken and readied
myself for what must happen next.

 
          
 
I stabbed several more times.

 
          
 
He screamed even more loudly. One claw
released my shoulder and I ducked as he began to flail at me with it. I slashed
at the clawed hand - and severed it.

 
          
 
This was too much for him. He dropped his
remaining grip and I fell forward.

 
          
 
Only my legs, twisted around one of his,
prevented me from joining Rokin.

 
          
 
I hurled my body through the air and managed
to get another grip on his leg, this time with one of my arms.

 
          
 
He shook the leg, losing his equilibrium in
the air and slowly beginning to descend, in spite of himself, as his wing beat
to keep him up.

 
          
 
Bit by bit, and to my intense satisfaction, we
began to go lower and lower as he struggled now to free himself. But I still
clung to him, stabbing with the light sword.

 
          
 
He was bleeding profusely and getting weaker
all the time.

 
          
 
Then, suddenly, with one final convulsion, he
managed to loosen my grip.

 
          
 
With a feeling that all had
been for nothing, I lost my hold and began to fall.

 
          
 
I did not fall for long, luckily, for once
again the rocky ground had been replaced by forest and I fell into the branches
of a tree. The supple bows held me like a soft hammock and after a moment I was
able to climb out and begin to clamber to the ground.

 
          
 
I was worried about Hool Haji.

 
          
 
How had he fared?

 
          
 
I prayed that he had, like me, been able to
save himself from the clutches of his captor.

 
          
 
The forest was quiet for a moment,
then
I heard a tremendous crash to my right.

 
          
 
I ran in the direction of-the sound and
discovered the corpse of the Jihadoo which had borne me here. It appeared to
have died of its wounds.

 
          
 
I shuddered as I looked at the ghastly
half-beast and decided that my best plan was to climb a tree quickly again to
see if I could catch sight of Hool Haji.

 
          
 
Up the nearest tree I clambered until I was
looking over the tops of the foliage.

 
          
 
I saw a speck in the distance, then another -
flying creatures, but so far away that I could not make out whether they were
Jihadoo or, indeed, if they carried anyone with them.

 
          
 
With a sinking heart I returned to the ground.
Somehow I had to discover the lair of the Jihadoo and set off to rescue my
friend, hoping that they world not kill him immediately.

 
          
 
But how?

 
          
 
That was a question my mind refused to answer.

 
          
 
I wondered if the cat-girl who had first
helped us would be able to help us again if I managed to contact her. I decided
that to seek her out was the best thing I could do, and I set off in the
general direction of the Crystal Pit.

 
          
 
Even if I did not find the cat-girl, I might
be able to capture a dog-man and get the information I needed from him.