Thuvia of Ptarth, battling for more than life againstthe lust of Jav, cast a quick glance over her shouldertoward the forest from which had rumbled the fierce growl.Jav looked, too.

What they saw filled each with apprehension. It wasKomal, the banth-god, rushing wide-jawed upon them!

Which had he chosen for his prey? Or was it to be both?

They had not long to wait, for though the Lotharianattempted to hold the girl between himself and theterrible fangs, the great beast found him at last.

Then, shrieking, he attempted to fly toward Lothar,after pushing Thuvia bodily into the face of the man-eater.But his flight was of short duration. In a moment Komalwas upon him, rending his throat and chest with demoniacal fury.

The girl reached their side a moment later, but it waswith difficulty that she tore the mad beast from its prey.Still growling and casting hungry glances back upon Jav,the banth at last permitted itself to be led away into the wood.

With her giant protector by her side Thuvia set forthto find the passage through the cliffs, that she mightattempt the seemingly impossible feat of reaching far-distant Ptarth across the more than seventeen thousandhaads of savage Barsoom.

She could not believe that Carthoris had deliberatelydeserted her, and so she kept a constant watch for him;but as she bore too far to the north in her search forthe tunnel she passed the Heliumite as he was returningto Lothar in search of her.

Thuvia of Ptarth was having difficulty in determiningthe exact status of the Prince of Helium in her heart.She could not admit even to herself that she loved him,and yet she had permitted him to apply to her thatterm of endearment and possession to which a Barsoomianmaid should turn deaf ears when voiced by otherlips than those of her husband or fiance--"my princess."

Kulan Tith, Jeddak of Kaol, to whom she wasaffianced, commanded her respect and admiration.Had it been that she had surrendered to her father'swishes because of pique that the handsome Heliumite hadnot taken advantage of his visits to her father's court topush the suit for her hand that she had been quite surehe had contemplated since that distant day the two hadsat together upon the carved seat within the gorgeousGarden of the Jeddaks that graced the inner courtyardof the palace of Salensus Oll at Kadabra?

Did she love Kulan Tith? Bravely she tried to believethat she did; but all the while her eyes wanderedthrough the coming darkness for the figure of a clean-limbed fighting man--black-haired and grey-eyed. Blackwas the hair of Kulan Tith; but his eyes were brown.

It was almost dark when she found the entrance to the tunnel.Safely she passed through to the hills beyond, and here,under the bright light of Mars' two moons, she haltedto plan her future action.

Should she wait here in the hope that Carthoriswould return in search of her? Or should she continueher way north-east toward Ptarth? Where, first, wouldCarthoris have gone after leaving the valley of Lothar?

Her parched throat and dry tongue gave her the answer--toward Aaanthor and water. Well, she, too, would gofirst to Aaanthor, where she might find more thanthe water she needed.

With Komal by her side she felt little fear, for hewould protect her from all other savage beasts.Even the great white apes would flee the mighty banthin terror. Men only need she fear, but she must takethis and many other chances before she could hope toreach her father's court again.

When at last Carthoris found her, only to be struckdown by the long-sword of a green man, Thuvia prayedthat the same fate might overtake her.

The sight of the red warriors leaping from their fliers had,for a moment, filled her with renewed hope--hope that Carthorisof Helium might be only stunned and that they would rescue him;but when she saw the Dusarian metal upon their harness,and that they sought only to escape with her alone fromthe charging Torquasians, she gave up.

Komal, too, was dead--dead across the body of the Heliumite.She was, indeed, alone now. There was none to protect her.

The Dusarian warriors dragged her to the deck of thenearest flier. All about them the green warriors surgedin an attempt to wrest her from the red.

At last those who had not died in the conflict gainedthe decks of the two craft. The engines throbbed andpurred--the propellers whirred. Quickly the swift boatsshot heavenward.

Thuvia of Ptarth glanced about her. A man stood near,smiling down into her face. With a gasp of recognitionshe looked full into his eyes, and then with a littlemoan of terror and understanding she buried her face inher hands and sank to the polished skeel-wood deck. Itwas Astok, Prince of Dusar, who bent above her.

Swift were the fliers of Astok of Dusar, and great theneed for reaching his father's court as quickly as possible,for the fleets of war of Helium and Ptarth and Kaol werescattered far and wide above Barsoom. Nor would it gowell with Astok or Dusar should any one of them discoverThuvia of Ptarth a prisoner upon his own vessel.

Aaanthor lies in fifty south latitude, and forty east ofHorz, the deserted seat of ancient Barsoomian culture andlearning, while Dusar lies fifteen degrees north of theequator and twenty degrees east from Horz.

Great though the distance is, the fliers covered itwithout a stop. Long before they had reached theirdestination Thuvia of Ptarth had learned several thingsthat cleared up the doubts that had assailed her mind formany days. Scarce had they risen above Aaanthor thanshe recognized one of the crew as a member of the crewof that other flier that had borne her from her father'sgardens to Aaanthor. The presence of Astok upon thecraft settled the whole question. She had been stolen byemissaries of the Dusarian prince--Carthoris of Heliumhad had nothing to do with it.

Nor did Astok deny the charge when she accused him.He only smiled and pleaded his love for her.

"I would sooner mate with a white ape!" she cried,when he would have urged his suit.

Astok glowered sullenly upon her.

"You shall mate with me, Thuvia of Ptarth," hegrowled, "or, by your first ancestor, you shall haveyour preference--and mate with a white ape."

The girl made no reply, nor could he draw her intoconversation during the balance of the journey.

As a matter of fact Astok was a trifle awed by theproportions of the conflict which his abduction of thePtarthian princess had induced, nor was he overcomfortable with the weight of responsibility which thepossession of such a prisoner entailed.

His one thought was to get her to Dusar, and there let hisfather assume the responsibility. In the meantime he wouldbe as careful as possible to do nothing to affront her,lest they all might be captured and he have to accountfor his treatment of the girl to one of the great jeddakswhose interest centred in her.

And so at last they came to Dusar, where Astok hid hisprisoner in a secret room high in the east tower ofhis own palace. He had sworn his men to silence in thematter of the identity of the girl, for until he had seenhis father, Nutus, Jeddak of Dusar, he dared not let anyone know whom he had brought with him from the south.

But when he appeared in the great audience chamberbefore the cruel-lipped man who was his sire, he foundhis courage oozing, and he dared not speak of the princesshid within his palace. It occurred to him to test hisfather's sentiments upon the subject, and so he tolda tale of capturing one who claimed to know thewhereabouts of Thuvia of Ptarth.

"And if you command it, Sire," he said, "I will go andcapture her--fetching her here to Dusar."

Nutus frowned and shook his head.

"You have done enough already to set Ptarth andKaol and Helium all three upon us at once should theylearn your part in the theft of the Ptarth princess.That you succeeded in shifting the guilt upon the Prince ofHelium was fortunate, and a masterly move of strategy;but were the girl to know the truth and ever return to herfather's court, all Dusar would have to pay the penalty,and to have her here a prisoner amongst us would be anadmission of guilt from the consequences of which naughtcould save us. It would cost me my throne, Astok, and thatI have no mind to lose.

"If we had her here--" the elder man suddenlycommenced to muse, repeating the phrase again and again."If we had her here, Astok," he exclaimed fiercely."Ah, if we but had her here and none knew that she was here!Can you not guess, man? The guilt of Dusar might be for everburied with her bones," he concluded in a low, savage whisper.

Astok, Prince of Dusar, shuddered.

Weak he was; yes, and wicked, too; but the suggestionthat his father's words implied turned him cold with horror.

Cruel to their enemies are the men of Mars; but theword "enemies" is commonly interpreted to mean men only.Assassination runs riot in the great Barsoomian cities;yet to murder a woman is a crime so unthinkable thateven the most hardened of the paid assassins would shrinkfrom you in horror should you suggest such a thing to him.

Nutus was apparently oblivious to his son's all-too-patentterror at his suggestion. Presently he continued:

"You say that you know where the girl lies hid,since she was stolen from your people at Aaanthor.Should she be found by any one of the three powers,her unsupported story would be sufficient to turnthem all against us.

"There is but one way, Astok," cried the older man."You must return at once to her hiding-place andfetch her hither in all secrecy. And, look you here!Return not to Dusar without her, upon pain of death!"

Astok, Prince of Dusar, well knew his royal father's temper.He knew that in the tyrant's heart there pulsed no singlethrob of love for any creature.

Astok's mother had been a slave woman. Nutus had neverloved her. He had never loved another. In youth he hadtried to find a bride at the courts of several of hispowerful neighbours, but their women would have none of him.

After a dozen daughters of his own nobility had soughtself-destruction rather than wed him he had given up.And then it had been that he had legally wed one of hisslaves that he might have a son to stand among the jedswhen Nutus died and a new jeddak was chosen.

Slowly Astok withdrew from the presence of his father.With white face and shaking limbs he made his way to hisown palace. As he crossed the courtyard his glancechanced to wander to the great east tower looming highagainst the azure of the sky.

At sight of it beads of sweat broke out upon his brow.

Issus! No other hand than his could be trusted todo the horrid thing. With his own fingers he must crushthe life from that perfect throat, or plunge the silentblade into the red, red heart.

Her heart! The heart that he had hoped would brimwith love for him!

But had it done so? He recalled the haughty contemptwith which his protestations of love had been received.He went cold and then hot to the memory of it. Hiscompunctions cooled as the self-satisfaction of a nearrevenge crowded out the finer instincts that had for amoment asserted themselves--the good that he had inheritedfrom the slave woman was once again submerged in thebad blood that had come down to him from his royalsire; as, in the end, it always was.

A cold smile supplanted the terror that had dilated hiseyes. He turned his steps toward the tower. He would seeher before he set out upon the journey that was to blindhis father to the fact that the girl was already in Dusar.

Quietly he passed in through the secret way, ascendinga spiral runway to the apartment in which the Princess ofPtarth was immured.

As he entered the room he saw the girl leaning uponthe sill of the east casement, gazing out across the rooftops of Dusar toward distant Ptarth. He hated Ptarth.The thought of it filled him with rage. Why not finishher now and have it done with?

At the sound of his step she turned quickly toward him.Ah, how beautiful she was! His sudden determinationfaded beneath the glorious light of her wondrous beauty. He would wait until he had returned from his littlejourney of deception--maybe there might be some otherway then. Some other hand to strike the blow--withthat face, with those eyes before him, he could never do it.Of that he was positive. He had always gloried in thecruelty of his nature, but, Issus! he was not that cruel.No, another must be found--one whom he could trust.

He was still looking at her as she stood there beforehim meeting his gaze steadily and unafraid. He felt the hot passion of his love mounting higher and higher.

Why not sue once more? If she would relent, all mightyet be well. Even if his father could not be persuaded,they could fly to Ptarth, laying all the blame of the knaveryand intrigue that had thrown four great nations into war,upon the shoulders of Nutus. And who was there thatwould doubt the justice of the charge?

"Thuvia," he said, "I come once again, for the lasttime, to lay my heart at your feet. Ptarth and Kaoland Dusar are battling with Helium because of you.Wed me, Thuvia, and all may yet be as it should be."

The girl shook her head.

"Wait!" he commanded, before she could speak."Know the truth before you speak words that may seal,not only your own fate, but that of the thousands ofwarriors who battle because of you.

"Refuse to wed me willingly, and Dusar would be laidwaste should ever the truth be known to Ptarth and Kaoland Helium. They would raze our cities, leaving not onestone upon another. They would scatter our peoplesacross the face of Barsoom from the frozen north to thefrozen south, hunting them down and slaying them,until this great nation remained only as a hated memoryin the minds of men.

"But while they are exterminating the Dusarians,countless thousands of their own warriors must perish--and all because of the stubbornness of a single womanwho would not wed the prince who loves her.

"Refuse, Thuvia of Ptarth, and there remains but asingle alternative--no man must ever know your fate.Only a handful of loyal servitors besides my royal fatherand myself know that you were stolen from the gardens ofThuvan Dihn by Astok, Prince of Dusar, or that to-dayyou be imprisoned in my palace.

"Refuse, Thuvia of Ptarth, and you must die to save Dusar--there is no other way. Nutus, the jeddak, has so decreed.I have spoken."

For a long moment the girl let her level gaze rest fullupon the face of Astok of Dusar. Then she spoke, andthough the words were few, the unimpassioned tonecarried unfathomable depths of cold contempt.

"Better all that you have threatened," she said, "than you."

Then she turned her back upon him and went to standonce more before the east window, gazing with sadeyes toward distant Ptarth.

Astok wheeled and left the room, returning after ashort interval of time with food and drink.

"Here," he said, "is sustenance until I return again.The next to enter this apartment will be your executioner.Commend yourself to your ancestors, Thuvia of Ptarth,for within a few days you shall be with them."

Then he was gone.

Half an hour later he was interviewing an officer highin the navy of Dusar.

"Whither went Vas Kor?" he asked. "He is not at his palace."

"South, to the great waterway that skirts Torquas,"replied the other. "His son, Hal Vas, is Dwar ofthe Road there, and thither has Vas Kor gone toenlist recruits among the workers on the farms."

"Good," said Astok, and a half-hour more found himrising above Dusar in his swiftest flier.