E-MED crossed the tower chamber toward Tara of Helium and theslave girl, Lan-O. He seized the former roughly by a shoulder."Stand!" he commanded. Tara struck his hand from her and rising,backed away.

"Lay not your hand upon the person of a princess of Helium,beast!" she warned.

E-Med laughed. "Think you that I play at jetan for you withoutfirst knowing something of the stake for which I play?" hedemanded. "Come here!"

The girl drew herself to her full height, folding her arms acrossher breast, nor did E-Med note that the slim fingers of her righthand were inserted beneath the broad leather strap of her harnesswhere it passed over her left shoulder.

"And O-Tar learns of this you shall rue it, E-Med," cried theslave girl; "there be no law in Manator that gives you this girlbefore you shall have won her fairly."

"What cares O-Tar for her fate?" replied E-Med. "Have I notheard? Did she not flout the great jeddak, heaping abuse uponhim? By my first ancestor, I think O-Tar might make a jed of theman who subdued her," and again he advanced toward Tara.

"Wait!" said the girl in low, even tone. "Perhaps you know notwhat you do. Sacred to the people of Helium are the persons ofthe women of Helium. For the honor of the humblest of them wouldthe great jeddak himself unsheathe his sword. The greatestnations of Barsoom have trembled to the thunders of war indefense of the person of Dejah Thoris, my mother. We are butmortal and so may die; but we may not be defiled. You may play atjetan for a princess of Helium, but though you may win the match,never may you claim the reward. If thou wouldst possess a deadbody press me too far, but know, man of Manator, that the bloodof The Warlord flows not in the veins of Tara of Helium fornaught. I have spoken."

"I know naught of Helium and O-Tar is our warlord," repliedE-Med; "but I do know that I would examine more closely the prizethat I shall play for and win. I would test the lips of her whois to be my slave after the next games; nor is it well, woman, todrive me too far to anger." His eyes narrowed as he spoke, hisvisage taking on the semblance of that of a snarling beast. "Ifyou doubt the truth of my words ask Lan-O, the slave girl."

"He speaks truly, O woman of Helium," interjected Lan-O. "Try notthe temper of E-Med, if you value your life."

But Tara of Helium made no reply. Already had she spoken. Shestood in silence now facing the burly warrior who approached her.He came close and then quite suddenly he seized her and, bending,tried to draw her lips to his.

Lan-O saw the woman from Helium half turn, and with a quickmovement jerk her right hand from where it had lain upon herbreast. She saw the hand shoot from beneath the arm of E-Med andrise behind his shoulder and she saw in the hand a long, slimblade. The lips of the warrior were drawing closer to those ofthe woman, but they never touched them, for suddenly the manstraightened, stiffly, a shriek upon his lips, and then hecrumpled like an empty fur and lay, a shrunken heap, upon thefloor. Tara of Helium stooped and wiped her blade upon hisharness.

Lan-O, wide-eyed, looked with horror upon the corpse. "For thiswe shall both die," she cried.

"And who would live a slave in Manator?" asked Tara of Helium.

"I am not so brave as thou," said the slave girl, "and life issweet and there is always hope."

"Life is sweet," agreed Tara of Helium, "but honor is sacred. Butdo not fear. When they come I shall tell them the truth--that youhad no hand in this and no opportunity to prevent it."

For a moment the slave girl seemed to be thinking deeply.Suddenly her eyes lighted. "There is a way, perhaps," she said,"to turn suspicion from us. He has the key to this chamber uponhim. Let us open the door and drag him out--maybe we shall find aplace to hide him."

"Good!" exclaimed Tara of Helium, and the two immediately setabout the matter Lan-O had suggested. Quickly they found the keyand unlatched the door and then, between them, they half carried,half dragged, the corpse of E-Med from the room and down thestairway to the next level where Lan-O said there were vacantchambers. The first door they tried was unlatched, and throughthis the two bore their grisly burden into a small room lightedby a single window. The apartment bore evidence of having beenutilized as a living-room rather than as a cell, being furnishedwith a degree of comfort and even luxury. The walls were paneledto a height of about seven feet from the floor, while the plasterabove and the ceiling were decorated with faded paintings ofanother day.

As Tara's eyes ran quickly over the interior her attention wasdrawn to a section of paneling that seemed to be separated at oneedge from the piece next adjoining it. Quickly she crossed to it,discovering that one vertical edge of an entire panel projected ahalf-inch beyond the others. There was a possible explanationwhich piqued her curiosity, and acting upon its suggestion sheseized upon the projecting edge and pulled outward. Slowly thepanel swung toward her, revealing a dark aperture in the wallbehind.

"Look, Lan-O!" she cried. "See what I have found--a hole in whichwe may hide the thing upon the floor."

Lan-O joined her and together the two investigated the darkaperture, finding a small platform from which a narrow runway leddownward into Stygian darkness. Thick dust covered the floorwithin the doorway, indicating that a great period of time hadelapsed since human foot had trod it--a secret way, doubtless,unknown to living Manatorians. Here they dragged the corpse ofE-Med, leaving it upon the platform, and as they left the darkand forbidden closet Lan-O would have slammed to the panel hadnot Tara prevented.

"Wait!" she said, and fell to examining the door frame and thestile.

"Hurry!" whispered the slave girl. "If they come we are lost."

"It may serve us well to know how to open this place again,"replied Tara of Helium, and then suddenly she pressed a footagainst a section of the carved base at the right of the openpanel. "Ah!" she breathed, a note of satisfaction in her tone,and closed the panel until it fitted snugly in its place. "Come!"she said and turned toward the outer doorway of the chamber.

They reached their own cell without detection, and closing thedoor Tara locked it from the inside and placed the key in asecret pocket in her harness.

"Let them come," she said. "Let them question us! What could twopoor prisoners know of the whereabouts of their noble jailer? Iask you, Lan-O, what could they?"

"Nothing," admitted Lan-O, smiling with her companion.

"Tell me of these men of Manator," said Tara presently. "Are theyall like E-Med, or are some of them like A-Kor, who seemed abrave and chivalrous character?"

"They are not unlike the peoples of other countries," repliedLan-O. "There be among them both good and bad. They are bravewarriors and mighty. Among themselves they are not withoutchivalry and honor, but in their dealings with strangers theyknow but one law--the law of might. The weak and unfortunate ofother lands fill them with contempt and arouse all that is worstin their natures, which doubtless accounts for their treatment ofus, their slaves."

"But why should they feel contempt for those who have sufferedthe misfortune of falling into their hands?" queried Tara.

"I do not know," said Lan-O; "A-Kor says that he believes that itis because their country has never been invaded by a victoriousfoe. In their stealthy raids never have they been defeated,because they have never waited to face a powerful force; and sothey have come to believe themselves invincible, and the otherpeoples are held in contempt as inferior in valor and thepractice of arms."

"Yet A-Kor is one of them," said Tara.

"He is a son of O-Tar, the jeddak," replied Lan-O; "but hismother was a high born Gatholian, captured and made slave byO-Tar, and A-Kor boasts that in his veins runs only the blood ofhis mother, and indeed is he different from the others. Hischivalry is of a gentler form, though not even his worst enemyhas dared question his courage, while his skill with the sword,and the spear, and the thoat is famous throughout the length andbreadth of Manator."

"What think you they will do with him?" asked Tara of Helium.

"Sentence him to the games," replied Lan-O. "If O-Tar be notgreatly angered he may be sentenced to but a single game, inwhich case he may come out alive; but if O-Tar wishes really todispose of him he will be sentenced to the entire series, and nowarrior has ever survived the full ten, or rather none who wasunder a sentence from O-Tar."

"What are the games? I do not understand," said Tara "I haveheard them speak of playing at jetan, but surely no one can bekilled at jetan. We play it often at home."

"But not as they play it in the arena at Manator," replied Lan-O."Come to the window," and together the two approached an aperturefacing toward the east.

Below her Tara of Helium saw a great field entirely surrounded bythe low building, and the lofty towers of which that in which shewas imprisoned was but a unit. About the arena were tiers ofseats; but the a thing that caught her attention was a giganticjetan board laid out upon the floor of the arena in great squaresof alternate orange and black.

"Here they play at jetan with living pieces. They play for greatstakes and usually for a woman--some slave of exceptional beauty.O-Tar himself might have played for you had you not angered him,but now you will be played for in an open game by slaves andcriminals, and you will belong to the side that wins--not to asingle warrior, but to all who survive the game."

The eyes of Tara of Helium flashed, but she made no comment.

"Those who direct the play do not necessarily take part in it,"continued the slave girl, "but sit in those two great throneswhich you see at either end of the board and direct their piecesfrom square to square."

"But where lies the danger?" asked Tara of Helium. "If a piece betaken it is merely removed from the board--this is a rule ofjetan as old almost as the civilization of Barsoom."

"But here in Manator, when they play in the great arena withliving men, that rule is altered," explained Lan-O. "When awarrior is moved to a square occupied by an opposing piece, thetwo battle to the death for possession of the square and the onethat is successful advantages by the move. Each is caparisoned tosimulate the piece he represents and in addition he wears thatwhich indicates whether he be slave, a warrior serving asentence, or a volunteer. If serving a sentence the number ofgames he must play is also indicated, and thus the one directingthe moves knows which pieces to risk and which to conserve, andfurther than this, a man's chances are affected by the positionthat is assigned him for the game. Those whom they wish to dieare always Panthans in the game, for the Panthan has the leastchance of surviving."

"Do those who direct the play ever actually take part in it?"asked Tara.

"Oh, yes," said Lan-O. "Often when two warriors, even of thehighest class, hold a grievance against one another O-Tar compelsthem to settle it upon the arena. Then it is that they takeactive part and with drawn swords direct their own players fromthe position of Chief. They pick their own players, usually thebest of their own warriors and slaves, if they be powerful menwho possess such, or their friends may volunteer, or they mayobtain prisoners from the pits. These are games indeed--the verybest that are seen. Often the great chiefs themselves are slain."

"It is within this amphitheater that the justice of Manator ismeted, then?" asked Tara.

"Very largely," replied Lan-O.

"How, then, through such justice, could a prisoner win hisliberty?" continued the girl from Helium.

"If a man, and he survived ten games his liberty would be his,"replied Lan-O.

"But none ever survives?" queried Tara. "And if a woman?"

"No stranger within the gates of Manator ever has survived tengames," replied the slave girl. "They are permitted to offerthemselves into perpetual slavery if they prefer that to fightingat jetan. Of course they may be called upon, as any warrior, totake part in a game, but their chances then of surviving areincreased, since they may never again have the chance of winningto liberty."

"But a woman," insisted Tara; "how may a woman win her freedom?"

Lan-O laughed. "Very simply," she cried. derisively. "She has butto find a warrior who will fight through ten consecutive gamesfor her and survive."

"'Just are the laws of Manator,'" quoted Tara, scornfully.

Then it was that they heard footsteps outside their cell and amoment later a key turned in the lock and the door opened. Awarrior faced them.

"Hast seen E-Med the dwar?" he asked.

"Yes," replied Tara, "he was here some time ago."

The man glanced quickly about the bare chamber and thensearchingly first at Tara of Helium and then at the slave girl,Lan-O. The puzzled expression upon his face increased. Hescratched his head. "It is strange," he said. "A score of men sawhim ascend into this tower; and though there is but a singleexit, and that well guarded, no man has seen him pass out."

Tara of Helium hid a yawn with the back of a shapely hand. "ThePrincess of Helium is hungry, fellow," she drawled; "tell yourmaster that she would eat."

It was an hour later that food was brought, an officer andseveral warriors accompanying the bearer. The former examined theroom carefully, but there was no sign that aught amiss hadoccurred there. The wound that had sent E-Med the dwar to hisancestors had not bled, fortunately for Tara of Helium.

"Woman," cried the officer, turning upon Tara, "you were the lastto see E-Med the dwar. Answer me now and answer me truthfully.Did you see him leave this room?"

"I did," answered Tara of Helium.

"Where did he go from here?"

"How should I know? Think you that I can pass through a lockeddoor of skeel?" the girl's tone was scornful.

"Of that we do not know," said the officer. "Strange things havehappened in the cell of your companion in the pits of Manator.Perhaps you could pass through a locked door of skeel as easilyas he performs seemingly more impossible feats."

"Whom do you mean," she cried; "Turan the panthan? He lives,then? Tell me, is he here in Manator unharmed?"

"I speak of that thing which calls itself Ghek the kaldane,"

replied the officer.

"But Turan! Tell me, padwar, have you heard aught of him?" Tara'stone was insistent and she leaned a little forward toward theofficer, her lips slightly parted in expectancy.

Into the eyes of the slave girl, Lan-O, who was watching her,there crept a soft light of understanding; but the officerignored Tara's question--what was the fate of another slave tohim? "Men do not disappear into thin air," he growled, "and ifE-Med be not found soon O-Tar himself may take a hand in this. Iwarn you, woman, if you be one of those horrid Corphals that bycommanding the spirits of the wicked dead gains evil mastery overthe living, as many now believe the thing called Ghek to be, thatlest you return E-Med, O-Tar will have no mercy on you."

"What foolishness is this?" cried the girl. "I am a princess

of Helium, as I have told you all a score of times. Even if thefabled Corphals existed, as none but the most ignorant nowbelieves, the lore of the ancients tells us that they enteredonly into the bodies of wicked criminals of the lowest class. Manof Manator, thou art a fool, and thy jeddak and all his people,"and she turned her royal back upon the padwar, and gazed throughthe window across the Field of Jetan and the roofs of Manatorthrough the low hills and the rolling country and freedom.

"And you know so much of Corphals, then," he cried, "you knowthat while no common man dare harm them they may be slain by thehand of a jeddak with impunity!"

The girl did not reply, nor would she speak again, for all histhreats and rage, for she knew now that none in all Manator daredharm her save O-Tar, the jeddak, and after a while the padwarleft, taking his men with him. And after they had gone Tara stoodfor long looking out upon the city of Manator, and wondering whatmore of cruel wrongs Fate held in store for her. She was standingthus in silent meditation when there rose to her the strains ofmartial music from the city below--the deep, mellow tones of thelong war trumpets of mounted troops, the clear, ringing notes offoot-soldiers' music. The girl raised her head and looked about,listening, and Lan-O, standing at an opposite window, lookingtoward the west, motioned Tara to join her. Now they could seeacross roofs and avenues to The Gate of Enemies, through whichtroops were marching into the city.

"The Great Jed is coming," said Lan-O, "none other dares enterthus, with blaring trumpets, the city of Manator. It is U-Thor,Jed of Manatos, second city of Manator. They call him The GreatJed the length and breadth of Manator, and because the peoplelove him, O-Tar hates him. They say, who know, that it would needbut slight provocation to inflame the two to war. How such a warwould end no one could guess; for the people of Manator worshipthe great O-Tar, though they do not love him. U-Thor they love,but he is not the jeddak," and Tara understood, as only a Martianmay, how much that simple statement encompassed.

The loyalty of a Martian to his jeddak is almost an instinct, andsecond not even to the instinct of self-preservation at that. Noris this strange in a race whose religion includes ancestorworship, and where families trace their origin back into remoteages and a jeddak sits upon the same throne that his directprogenitors have occupied for, perhaps, hundreds of thousands ofyears, and rules the descendants of the same people that hisforebears ruled. Wicked jeddaks have been dethroned, but seldomare they replaced by other than members of the imperial house,even though the law gives to the jeds the right to select whomthey please.

"U-Thor is a just man and good, then?" asked Tara of Helium.

"There be none nobler," replied Lan-O. "In Manatos none butwicked criminals who deserve death are forced to play at jetan,and even then the play is fair and they have their chance forfreedom. Volunteers may play, but the moves are not necessarilyto the death--a wound, and even sometimes points in swordplay,deciding the issue. There they look upon jetan as a martialsport--here it is but butchery. And U-Thor is opposed to theancient slave raids and to the policy that keeps Manator foreverisolated from the other nations of Barsoom; but U-Thor is notjeddak and so there is no change."

The two girls watched the column moving up the broad avenue fromThe Gate of Enemies toward the palace of O-Tar. A gorgeous,barbaric procession of painted warriors in jewel-studded harnessand waving feathers; vicious, squealing thoats caparisoned inrich trappings; far above their heads the long lances of theirriders bore fluttering pennons; foot-soldiers swinging easilyalong the stone pavement, their sandals of zitidar hide givingforth no sound; and at the rear of each utan a train of paintedchariots, drawn by mammoth zitidars, carrying the equipment ofthe company to which they were attached. Utan after utan enteredthrough the great gate, and even when the head of the columnreached the palace of O-Tar they were not all within the city.

"I have been here many years," said the girl, Lan-O; "but neverhave I seen even The Great Jed bring so many fighting men intothe city of Manator."

Through half-closed eyes Tara of Helium watched the warriorsmarching up the broad avenue, trying to imagine them the fightingmen of her beloved Helium coming to the rescue of their princess.That splendid figure upon the great thoat might be John Carter,himself, Warlord of Barsoom, and behind him utan after utan ofthe veterans of the empire, and then the girl opened her eyesagain and saw the host of painted, befeathered barbarians, andsighed. But yet she watched, fascinated by the martial scene, andnow she noted again the groups of silent figures upon thebalconies. No waving silks; no cries of welcome; no showers offlowers and jewels such as would have marked the entry of such asplendid, friendly pageant into the twin cities of her birth.

"The people do not seem friendly to the warriors of Manatos," sheremarked to Lan-O; "I have not seen a single welcoming sign fromthe people on the balconies."

The slave girl looked at her in surprise. "It cannot be that youdo not know!" she exclaimed. "Why, they are--" but she got nofurther. The door swung open and an officer stood before them.

"The slave girl, Tara, is summoned to the presence of O-Tar, thejeddak!" he announced.