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she hastened on with Ghek as she was bid, and after the first flush of anger she
smiled, for the realization came to her that this fellow was but a rough untutored
warrior, skilled not in the finer usages of cultured courts. His heart was right,
though; a brave and loyal heart, and gladly she forgave him the offense of his
tone and manner. But what a tone! Recollection of it gave her sudden pause.
Panthans were rough and ready men. Often they rose to positions of high
command, so it was not the note of authority in the fellow's voice that seemed
remarkable; but something else--a quality that was indefinable, yet as distinct as
it was familiar. She had heard it before when the voice of her great-grandsire,
Tardos Mors, Jeddak of Helium, had risen in command; and in the voice of her
grandfather, Mors Kajak, the jed; and in the ringing tones of her illustrious sire,
John Carter, Warlord of Barsoom, when he addressed his warriors.
But now she had no time to speculate upon so trivial a thing, for behind her came
the sudden clash of arms and she knew that Turan, the panthan, had crossed
swords with the first of their pursuers. As she glanced back he was still visible
beyond a turn in the stairway, so that she could see the quick swordplay that
ensued. Daughter of a world's greatest swordsman, she knew well the finest
points of the art. She saw the clumsy attack of the kaldane and the quick, sure
return of the panthan. As she looked down from above upon his almost naked
body, trapped only in the simplest of unadorned harness, and saw the play of the
lithe muscles beneath the red-bronze skin, and witnessed the quick and delicate
play of his sword point, to her sense of obligation was added a spontaneous
admission of admiration that was but the natural tribute of a woman to skill and
bravery and, perchance, some trifle to manly symmetry and strength.
Three times the panthan's blade changed its position--once to fend a savage cut;
once to feint; and once to thrust. And as he withdrew it from the last position the
kaldane rolled lifeless from its stumbling rykor and Turan sprang quickly down
the steps to engage the next behind, and then Ghek had drawn Tara upward and
a turn in the stairway shut the battling panthan from her view; but still she
heard the ring of steel on steel, the clank of accouterments and the shrill
whistling of the kaldanes. Her heart moved her to turn back to the side of her
brave defender; but her judgment told her that she could serve him best by being
ready at the control of the flier at the moment he reached the enclosure.
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