www.freeclassicebooks.com

Uthia shook her head sorrowfully. "Alas! she does," she admitted. "Iron is the

Warlord of Barsoom to the influences of all but two. In the hands of Dejah Thoris

and Tara of Helium he is as potters' clay."

"Then run and fetch my flying leather like the sweet slave you are," directed the

mistress.

* * * *

Far out across the ochre sea-bottoms beyond the twin cities of Helium raced the

swift flier of Tara of Helium. Thrilling to the speed and the buoyancy and the

obedience of the little craft the girl drove toward the northwest. Why she should

choose that direction she did not pause to consider. Perhaps because in that

direction lay the least known areas of Barsoom, and, ergo, Romance, Mystery,

and Adventure. In that direction also lay far Gathol; but to that fact she gave no

conscious thought.

She did, however, think occasionally of the jed of that distant kingdom, but the

reaction to these thoughts was scarcely pleasurable. They still brought a flush of

shame to her cheeks and a surge of angry blood to her heart. She was very angry

with the Jed of Gathol, and though she should never see him again she was quite

sure that hate of him would remain fresh in her memory forever. Mostly her

thoughts revolved about another--Djor Kantos. And when she thought of him she

thought also of Olvia Marthis of Hastor. Tara of Helium thought that she was

jealous of the fair Olvia and it made her very angry to think that. She was angry

with Djor Kantos and herself, but she was not angry at all with Olvia Marthis,

whom she loved, and so of course she was not jealous really. The trouble was,

that Tara of Helium had failed for once to have her own way. Djor Kantos had not

come running like a willing slave when she had expected him, and, ah, here was

the nub of the whole thing! Gahan, Jed of Gathol, a stranger, had been a witness

to her humiliation. He had seen her unclaimed at the beginning of a great

function and he had had to come to her rescue to save her, as he doubtless

thought, from the inglorious fate of a wall-flower. At the recurring thought, Tara

of Helium could feel her whole body burning with scarlet shame and then she

went suddenly white and cold with rage; whereupon she turned her flier about so

abruptly that she was all but torn from her lashings upon the flat, narrow deck.

She reached home just before dark. The guests had departed. Quiet had

descended upon the palace. An hour later she joined her father and mother at the

evening meal.

"You deserted us, Tara of Helium," said John Carter. "It is not what the guests of

John Carter should expect."

The Chessmen of Mars