Warlord of Mars

By Edgar Rice Burroughs

Page 0

Warlord of Mars


Edgar Rice Burroughs


On the River Iss
Under the Mountains
The Temple of the Sun
The Secret Tower
On the Kaolian Road
A Hero in Kaol
New Allies
Through the Carrion Caves
With the Yellow Men
In Durance
The Pity of Plenty
"Follow the Rope!"
The Magnet Switch
The Tide of Battle
The New Ruler


In the shadows of the forest that flanks the crimson plain by the
side of the Lost Sea of Korus in the Valley Dor, beneath the hurtling
moons of Mars, speeding their meteoric way close above the bosom of
the dying planet, I crept stealthily along the trail of a shadowy
form that hugged the darker places with a persistency that proclaimed
the sinister nature of its errand.

For six long Martian months I had haunted the vicinity of the
hateful Temple of the Sun, within whose slow-revolving shaft, far
beneath the surface of Mars, my princess lay entombed--but whether
alive or dead I knew not. Had Phaidor's slim blade found that
beloved heart? Time only would reveal the truth.

Six hundred and eighty-seven Martian days must come and go before
the cell's door would again come opposite the tunnel's end where
last I had seen my ever-beautiful Dejah Thoris.

Half of them had passed, or would on the morrow, yet vivid in my
memory, obliterating every event that had come before or after,
there remained the last scene before the gust of smoke blinded my
eyes and the narrow slit that had given me sight of the interior
of her cell closed between me and the Princess of Helium for a long
Martian year.

As if it were yesterday, I still saw the beautiful face of Phaidor,
daughter of Matai Shang, distorted with jealous rage and hatred as
she sprang forward with raised dagger upon the woman I loved.

I saw the red girl, Thuvia of Ptarth, leap forward to prevent the
hideous deed.

The smoke from the burning temple had come then to blot out the
tragedy, but in my ears rang the single shriek as the knife fell.
Then silence, and when the smoke had cleared, the revolving temple
had shut off all sight or sound from the chamber in which the three
beautiful women were imprisoned.

Much there had been to occupy my attention since that terrible moment;
but never for an instant had the memory of the thing faded, and
all the time that I could spare from the

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