The day dragged wearily for Gor Hajus and me. We watched the various
priests who came in pairs at intervals to relieve those who had
preceded them, and we listened to their prattle, mostly idle gossip of
court scandals. At times they spoke of us and we learned that Hovan Du
had escaped with Sag Or, nor had they been located as yet, nor had Dar
Tarus. The whole court was mystified by our seemingly miraculous
disappearance. Three thousand people, the inmates and attaches of the
palace, were constantly upon the look-out for us. Every part of the
palace and the palace grounds had been searched and searched again. The
pits had been explored more thoroughly than they had been explored
within the memory of the oldest retainer, and it seemed that queer
things had been unearthed there--things of which not even Xaxa
dreamed, and the priests whispered that at least one great and powerful
house would fall because of what a dwar of the Jeddak's Guard had
discovered in a remote precinct of the pits.
As the sun dropped below the horizon and darkness came, the interior of
the temple was illuminated by a soft white light, brilliantly but
without the glare of Earthly artificial illumination. More priests came
and many young girls, priestesses. They performed before the idols, chanting meaningless gibberish.
Gradually the chamber filled with worshippers, nobles of the Jeddara's
court with their women and their retainers, forming in two lines along
either side of the temple before the lesser idols, leaving a wide aisle
from the great entrance to the foot of the Great Tur and towards this
aisle they all faced, waiting. For what were they waiting? Their eyes
were turned expectantly towards the closed doors of the great entrance
and Gor Hajus and I felt our eyes held there too, fascinated by the
suggestion that they were about to open and reveal some stupendous
spectacle.
And presently the doors did swing slowly open and all we saw was what
appeared to be a great roll of carpet lying upon its side across the
opening. Twenty slaves, naked but for their scant leather harness, stood behind the huge roll; and as the doors swung fully open they rolled the carpet inward to the very feet of the altar before the Great Tur, covering the wide aisle from the entranceway almost to the idol with a thick, soft rug of gold and white and blue. It was the most beautiful thing in the temple where all else was blatant, loud and garish or hideous, or grotesque. And then the doors closed and again we waited; but not for long. Bugles sounded from without, the sound increasing as they neared the entrance. Once more the doors swung in. Across the entrance stood a double rank of gorgeously trapped nobles. Slowly they entered the temple and behind them came a splendid chariot drawn by two banths, the fierce Barsoomian lion, held in leash by slaves on either side. Upon the chariot was a litter and in the litter, reclining at ease, lay Xaxa. As she entered the temple the people commenced to chant her praises in a monotonous sing-song. Chained to the chariot and following on foot was a red warrior and behind him a procession composed of fifty young men and an equal number of young girls.
Gor Hajus touched my arm. "The prisoner," he whispered, "do you
recognize him?"
"Dar Tarus!" I exclaimed.
It was Dar Tarus--they had discovered his hiding place and arrested
him, but what of Hovan Du? Had they taken him, also? If they had it
must have been only after slaying him, for they never would have sought
to capture the fierce beast, nor would he have brooked capture. I
looked for Sag Or, but he was nowhere to be seen within the temple and
this fact gave me hope that Hovan Du might be still at liberty.
The chariot was halted before the altar and Xaxa alighted; the lock
that held Dar Tarus' chain to the vehicle was opened and the banths
were led away by their attendants to one side of the temple behind the
lesser idols. Then Dar Tarus was dragged roughly to the altar and
thrown upon it and Xaxa, mounting the steps at its base, came close to
his side and with hands outstretched above him looked up at the Great
Tur towering above her. How beautiful she was! How richly trapped! Ah, Valla Dia! that your sweet form should be debased to the cruel purposes of the wicked mind that now animates you!