As Thuvia of Ptarth saw Carthoris depart from the presence of Tario, leaving her alone with the man, a sudden qualm of terror seized her.
There was an air of mystery pervading the stately chamber.
Its furnishings and appointments bespoke wealth and culture, and carried the suggestion that the room was often the scene of royal functions which filled it to its capacity.
And yet nowhere about her, in antechamber or corridor, was there sign of any other being than herself and the recumbent figure of Tario, the jeddak, who watched her through half-closed eyes from the gorgeous trappings of his regal couch.
For a time after the departure of Jav and Carthoris the man eyed her intently. Then he spoke.
"Come nearer," he said, and, as she approached:
"Whose creature are you? Who has dared materialize his imaginings of woman? It is contrary to the customs and the royal edicts of Lothar. Tell me, woman, from whose brain have you sprung? Jav's? No, do not deny it.
I know that it could be no other than that envious realist.
He seeks to tempt me. He would see me fall beneath the spell of your charms, and then he, your master, would direct my destiny and--my end. I see it all!
I see it all!"
The blood of indignation and anger had been rising to Thuvia's face. Her chin was up, a haughty curve upon her perfect lips.
"I know naught," she cried, "of what you are prating!
I am Thuvia, Princess of Ptarth. I am no man's `creature.' Never before to-day did I lay eyes upon him you call Jav, nor upon your ridiculous city, of which even the greatest nations of Barsoom have never dreamed.
"My charms are not for you, nor such as you. They are not for sale or barter, even though the price were a real throne. And as for using them to win your worse than futile power--" She ended her sentence with a shrug of her shapely shoulders, and a little scornful laugh.
When she had finished Tario was sitting upon the edge of his couch, his feet upon the floor. He was leaning forward with eyes no longer half closed, but wide with a startled expression in them.
He did not seem to note the LESE MAJESTE of her words and manner. There was evidently something more startling and compelling about her speech than that.
Slowly he came to his feet.
"By the fangs of Komal!" he muttered. "But you are REAL!
A REAL woman! No dream! No vain and foolish figment of the mind!"He took a step toward her, with hands outstretched.
"Come!" he whispered. "Come, woman! For countless ages have I dreamed that some day you would come.
And now that you are here I can scarce believe the testimony of my eyes. Even now, knowing that you are real, I still half dread that you may be a lie."Thuvia shrank back. She thought the man mad.
Her hand stole to the jewelled hilt of her dagger.
The man saw the move, and stopped. A cunning expression entered his eyes. Then they became at once dreamy and penetrating as they fairly bored into the girl's brain.
Thuvia suddenly felt a change coming over her. What the cause of it she did not guess; but somehow the man before her began to assume a new relationship within her heart.
No longer was he a strange and mysterious enemy, but an old and trusted friend. Her hand slipped from the dagger's hilt. Tario came closer. He spoke gentle, friendly words, and she answered him in a voice that seemed hers and yet another's.
He was beside her now. His hand was up her shoulder.
His eyes were down-bent toward hers. She looked up into his face. His gaze seemed to bore straight through her to some hidden spring of sentiment within her.
Her lips parted in sudden awe and wonder at the strange revealment of her inner self that was being laid bare before her consciousness. She had known Tario for ever.
He was more than friend to her. She moved a little closer to him. In one swift flood of light she knew the truth. She loved Tario, Jeddak of Lothar!
She had always loved him.
The man, seeing the success of his strategy, could not restrain a faint smile of satisfaction. Whether there was something in the expression of his face, or whether from Carthoris of Helium in a far chamber of the palace came a more powerful suggestion, who may say? But something there was that suddenly dispelled the strange, hypnotic influence of the man.
As though a mask had been torn from her eyes, Thuvia suddenly saw Tario as she had formerly seen him, and, accustomed as she was to the strange manifestations of highly developed mentality which are common upon Barsoom, she quickly guessed enough of the truth to know that she was in grave danger.
Quickly she took a step backward, tearing herself from his grasp. But the momentary contact had aroused within Tario all the long-buried passions of his loveless existence.
With a muffled cry he sprang upon her, throwing his arms about her and attempting to drag her lips to his.
"Woman!" he cried. "Lovely woman! Tario would make you queen of Lothar. Listen to me! Listen to the love of the last jeddaks of Barsoom."Thuvia struggled to free herself from his embrace.
"Stop, creature!" she cried. "Stop! I do not love you.
Stop, or I shall scream for help!"
Tario laughed in her face.
"`Scream for help,'" he mimicked. "And who within the halls of Lothar is there who might come in answer to your call?
Who would dare enter the presence of Tario, unsummoned?""There is one," she replied, "who would come, and, coming, dare to cut you down upon your own throne, if he thought that you had offered affront to Thuvia of Ptarth!""Who, Jav?" asked Tario.
"Not Jav, nor any other soft-skinned Lotharian," she replied;"but a real man, a real warrior--Carthoris of Helium!"Again the man laughed at her.
"You forget the bowmen," he reminded her. "What could your red warrior accomplish against my fearless legions?"Again he caught her roughly to him, dragging her towards his couch.
"If you will not be my queen," he said, "you shall be my slave.""Neither!" cried the girl.
