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The Project Gutenberg EBook of Warlord of Mars, by Edgar Rice Burroughs
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Title: Warlord of Mars
Author: Edgar Rice Burroughs
Posting Date: June 23, 2008 [EBook #68] Release Date: June, 1993 Last updated: April 12, 2012
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Warlord of Mars
Военачалникът на Марс
Не съм отровен 4.11.18 в 16:51
ON THE RIVER ISS
По река Исс
pechkov 4.11.18 в 14:55
На реката Исс
Не съм отровен 4.11.18 в 16:55
In the shadows of the forest that flanks the crimson plain by the side of the Lost Sea of Korus in the Valley Dor, beneath the hurtling moons of Mars, speeding their meteoric way close above the bosom of the dying planet, I crept stealthily along the trail of a shadowy form that hugged the darker places with a persistency that proclaimed the sinister nature of its errand.
В сенките на гората, стояща до червеникавата поляна от страната на Изгубеното море на Корус в долината Дор, под прехвърчащите луни на Марс, прелитащи по пътя си със скоростта на метеорити непосредствено над гръдта на умиращата планета, безшумно се промъквах по пътеката в сенчеста форма която обгръщаше по-тъмните места с натрапчиво предчувствие за злокобната природа на своето предназначение.
Не съм отровен 4.11.18 в 17:15
For six long Martian months I had haunted the vicinity of the hateful Temple of the Sun, within whose slow-revolving shaft, far beneath the surface of Mars, my princess lay entombed--but whether alive or dead I knew not. Had Phaidor's slim blade found that beloved heart? Time only would reveal the truth.
Цели шест марсиански месеца обитавах околностите на омразния Храм на Слънцето, в чийто бавно въртящ се купол, дълбоко под повърхността на Марс, моята принцеса лежеше в ковчег- дали жива или мъртва обаче не знаех. Намерило ли беше острието на Файдор това обичано сърце? Само времето щеше да разкрие истината.
Не съм отровен 4.11.18 в 17:22
Six hundred and eighty-seven Martian days must come and go before the cell's door would again come opposite the tunnel's end where last I had seen my ever-beautiful Dejah Thoris.
Шестстотин осемдесет и седем марсиански дни трябва да преминат преди вратата на клетката да застане пред края на тунела където за последно видях моята прекрасна Дейа Торис.
Не съм отровен 4.11.18 в 17:25
Half of them had passed, or would on the morrow, yet vivid in my memory, obliterating every event that had come before or after, there remained the last scene before the gust of smoke blinded my eyes and the narrow slit that had given me sight of the interior of her cell closed between me and the Princess of Helium for a long Martian year.
Половината от тях бяха изминали, или щяха скоро, но жива в паметта ми, заличавайки всяко събитие преди или след нея, остана моментът преди гъстата мъгла да заслепи очите ми и тесният процеп между мен и Принцесата на Хелиум, който ми позволяваше да видя вътрешността на клетката, да се затвори в продължение на една дълга марсианска година.
Не съм отровен 4.11.18 в 17:35
As if it were yesterday, I still saw the beautiful face of Phaidor, daughter of Matai Shang, distorted with jealous rage and hatred as she sprang forward with raised dagger upon the woman I loved.
Виждам красивото лице на Файдор, дъщеря на Матай Шанг, сякаш беше вчера, обзета от дива ярост и омраза, когато се нахвърли с вдигнат нож върху жената, която обичах
Не съм отровен 4.11.18 в 17:46
I saw the red girl, Thuvia of Ptarth, leap forward to prevent the hideous deed.
Видях как червеното момиче, Тувия от Пфарт, се хвърля, за да предотврати това ужасно деяние.
Не съм отровен 4.11.18 в 19:19
The smoke from the burning temple had come then to blot out the tragedy, but in my ears rang the single shriek as the knife fell. Then silence, and when the smoke had cleared, the revolving temple had shut off all sight or sound from the chamber in which the three beautiful women were imprisoned.
Пушекът от горящия храм дойде, за да заличи трагедията, но в ушите ми все още звънеше свистенето на ножа. После тишина, а когато пушекът изчезна, въртящият се храм скри всякакъв изглед или звук от камерата, където трите красиви жени бях затворени
Не съм отровен 4.11.18 в 19:28
Much there had been to occupy my attention since that terrible moment; but never for an instant had the memory of the thing faded, and all the time that I could spare from the numerous duties that had devolved upon me in the reconstruction of the government of the First Born since our victorious fleet and land forces had overwhelmed them, had been spent close to the grim shaft that held the mother of my boy, Carthoris of Helium.
Имаше много неща, които да ангажират вниманието ми, след този ужасен инцидент; но никога, дори за миг, споменът ми за това не изчезна, и всичкото време, което можех да спестя покрай множеството си задължения, които се стовариха върху мен при възстановяването на правителството на Първородния откакто нашият победоносен флот и наземни сили ги надмогнаха, беше прекарано близо до мрачния тунел, в който беше държана майката на момчето ми, Карторис от Хелиум.
Не съм отровен 4.11.18 в 19:39
The race of blacks that for ages had worshiped Issus, the false deity of Mars, had been left in a state of chaos by my revealment of her as naught more than a wicked old woman. In their rage they had torn her to pieces.
Расата на черните, която с векове беше почитала Иса, фалшивото божество на Марс, изпадна в състояние на хаос заради разкритието ми, че не е нищо повече от една подла старица. В гнева си те я разкъсаха на парчета.
Не съм отровен 4.11.18 в 19:47
From the high pinnacle of their egotism the First Born had been plunged to the depths of humiliation. Their deity was gone, and with her the whole false fabric of their religion. Their vaunted navy had fallen in defeat before the superior ships and fighting men of the red men of Helium.
От високия връх на своята гордост Първородните пропаднаха в дълбините на унижението. Тяхното божество го нямаше, и с нея си беше отишла измамната основа на тяхната религия. Прочутият им морски флот претърпя поражение от превъзхождащите ги кораби и бойци на червените хора от Хелиум
Не съм отровен 4.11.18 в 19:55
Fierce green warriors from the ocher sea bottoms of outer Mars had ridden their wild thoats across the sacred gardens of the Temple of Issus, and Tars Tarkas, Jeddak of Thark, fiercest of them all, had sat upon the throne of Issus and ruled the First Born while the allies were deciding the conquered nation's fate.
Almost unanimous was the request that I ascend the ancient throne of the black men, even the First Born themselves concurring in it; but I would have none of it. My heart could never be with the race that had heaped indignities upon my princess and my son.
Почти единодушно беше предложението да наследя древния трон на черните хора, дори самите Първородни се присъединиха; но аз нямаше никога да го заема. Сърцето ми не можеше да бъде с расата, която беше причинила толкова злочестия на моята принцеса и моя син.
Не съм отровен 7.11.18 в 16:37
At my suggestion Xodar became Jeddak of the First Born. He had been a dator, or prince, until Issus had degraded him, so that his fitness for the high office bestowed was unquestioned.
The peace of the Valley Dor thus assured, the green warriors dispersed to their desolate sea bottoms, while we of Helium returned to our own country. Here again was a throne offered me, since no word had been received from the missing Jeddak of Helium, Tardos Mors, grandfather of Dejah Thoris, or his son, Mors Kajak, Jed of Helium, her father.
Over a year had elapsed since they had set out to explore the northern hemisphere in search of Carthoris, and at last their disheartened people had accepted as truth the vague rumors of their death that had filtered in from the frozen region of the pole.
Once again I refused a throne, for I would not believe that the mighty Tardos Mors, or his no less redoubtable son, was dead.
"Let one of their own blood rule you until they return," I said to the assembled nobles of Helium, as I addressed them from the Pedestal of Truth beside the Throne of Righteousness in the Temple of Reward, from the very spot where I had stood a year before when Zat Arras pronounced the sentence of death upon me.
As I spoke I stepped forward and laid my hand upon the shoulder of Carthoris where he stood in the front rank of the circle of nobles about me.
As one, the nobles and the people lifted their voices in a long cheer of approbation. Ten thousand swords sprang on high from as many scabbards, and the glorious fighting men of ancient Helium hailed Carthoris Jeddak of Helium.
His tenure of office was to be for life or until his great-grandfather, or grandfather, should return. Having thus satisfactorily arranged this important duty for Helium, I started the following day for the Valley Dor that I might remain close to the Temple of the Sun until the fateful day that should see the opening of the prison cell where my lost love lay buried.
Hor Vastus and Kantos Kan, with my other noble lieutenants, I left with Carthoris at Helium, that he might have the benefit of their wisdom, bravery, and loyalty in the performance of the arduous duties which had devolved upon him. Only Woola, my Martian hound, accompanied me.
At my heels tonight the faithful beast moved softly in my tracks. As large as a Shetland pony, with hideous head and frightful fangs, he was indeed an awesome spectacle, as he crept after me on his ten short, muscular legs; but to me he was the embodiment of love and loyalty.
The figure ahead was that of the black dator of the First Born, Thurid, whose undying enmity I had earned that time I laid him low with my bare hands in the courtyard of the Temple of Issus, and bound him with his own harness before the noble men and women who had but a moment before been extolling his prowess.
Like many of his fellows, he had apparently accepted the new order of things with good grace, and had sworn fealty to Xodar, his new ruler; but I knew that he hated me, and I was sure that in his heart he envied and hated Xodar, so I had kept a watch upon his comings and goings, to the end that of late I had become convinced that he was occupied with some manner of intrigue.
Several times I had observed him leaving the walled city of the First Born after dark, taking his way out into the cruel and horrible Valley Dor, where no honest business could lead any man.
Tonight he moved quickly along the edge of the forest until well beyond sight or sound of the city, then he turned across the crimson sward toward the shore of the Lost Sea of Korus.
The rays of the nearer moon, swinging low across the valley, touched his jewel-incrusted harness with a thousand changing lights and glanced from the glossy ebony of his smooth hide. Twice he turned his head back toward the forest, after the manner of one who is upon an evil errand, though he must have felt quite safe from pursuit.
I did not dare follow him there beneath the moonlight, since it best suited my plans not to interrupt his--I wished him to reach his destination unsuspecting, that I might learn just where that destination lay and the business that awaited the night prowler there.
So it was that I remained hidden until after Thurid had disappeared over the edge of the steep bank beside the sea a quarter of a mile away. Then, with Woola following, I hastened across the open after the black dator.
The quiet of the tomb lay upon the mysterious valley of death, crouching deep in its warm nest within the sunken area at the south pole of the dying planet. In the far distance the Golden Cliffs raised their mighty barrier faces far into the starlit heavens, the precious metals and scintillating jewels that composed them sparkling in the brilliant light of Mars's two gorgeous moons.
At my back was the forest, pruned and trimmed like the sward to parklike symmetry by the browsing of the ghoulish plant men.
Before me lay the Lost Sea of Korus, while farther on I caught the shimmering ribbon of Iss, the River of Mystery, where it wound out from beneath the Golden Cliffs to empty into Korus, to which for countless ages had been borne the deluded and unhappy Martians of the outer world upon the voluntary pilgrimage to this false heaven.
The plant men, with their blood-sucking hands, and the monstrous white apes that make Dor hideous by day, were hidden in their lairs for the night.
There was no longer a Holy Thern upon the balcony in the Golden Cliffs above the Iss to summon them with weird cry to the victims floating down to their maws upon the cold, broad bosom of ancient Iss.
The navies of Helium and the First Born had cleared the fortresses and the temples of the therns when they had refused to surrender and accept the new order of things that had swept their false religion from long-suffering Mars.
In a few isolated countries they still retained their age-old power; but Matai Shang, their hekkador, Father of Therns, had been driven from his temple. Strenuous had been our endeavors to capture him; but with a few of the faithful he had escaped, and was in hiding--where we knew not.
As I came cautiously to the edge of the low cliff overlooking the Lost Sea of Korus I saw Thurid pushing out upon the bosom of the shimmering water in a small skiff--one of those strangely wrought craft of unthinkable age which the Holy Therns, with their organization of priests and lesser therns, were wont to distribute along the banks of the Iss, that the long journey of their victims might be facilitated.
Drawn up on the beach below me were a score of similar boats, each with its long pole, at one end of which was a pike, at the other a paddle. Thurid was hugging the shore, and as he passed out of sight round a near-by promontory I shoved one of the boats into the water and, calling Woola into it, pushed out from shore.
The pursuit of Thurid carried me along the edge of the sea toward the mouth of the Iss. The farther moon lay close to the horizon, casting a dense shadow beneath the cliffs that fringed the water. Thuria, the nearer moon, had set, nor would it rise again for near four hours, so that I was ensured concealing darkness for that length of time at least.