A Princess of Mars - Page 68/143

I chose the same weapon he had drawn because I knew he prided himself

upon his ability with it, and I wished, if I worsted him at all, to do

it with his own weapon. The fight that followed was a long one and

delayed the resumption of the march for an hour. The entire community

surrounded us, leaving a clear space about one hundred feet in diameter

for our battle.

Zad first attempted to rush me down as a bull might a wolf, but I was

much too quick for him, and each time I side-stepped his rushes he

would go lunging past me, only to receive a nick from my sword upon his

arm or back. He was soon streaming blood from a half dozen minor

wounds, but I could not obtain an opening to deliver an effective

thrust. Then he changed his tactics, and fighting warily and with

extreme dexterity, he tried to do by science what he was unable to do

by brute strength. I must admit that he was a magnificent swordsman,

and had it not been for my greater endurance and the remarkable agility

the lesser gravitation of Mars lent me I might not have been able to

put up the creditable fight I did against him.

We circled for some time without doing much damage on either side; the

long, straight, needle-like swords flashing in the sunlight, and

ringing out upon the stillness as they crashed together with each

effective parry. Finally Zad, realizing that he was tiring more than

I, evidently decided to close in and end the battle in a final blaze of

glory for himself; just as he rushed me a blinding flash of light

struck full in my eyes, so that I could not see his approach and could

only leap blindly to one side in an effort to escape the mighty blade

that it seemed I could already feel in my vitals. I was only partially

successful, as a sharp pain in my left shoulder attested, but in the

sweep of my glance as I sought to again locate my adversary, a sight

met my astonished gaze which paid me well for the wound the temporary

blindness had caused me. There, upon Dejah Thoris' chariot stood three

figures, for the purpose evidently of witnessing the encounter above

the heads of the intervening Tharks. There were Dejah Thoris, Sola,

and Sarkoja, and as my fleeting glance swept over them a little tableau

was presented which will stand graven in my memory to the day of my

death.

As I looked, Dejah Thoris turned upon Sarkoja with the fury of a young

tigress and struck something from her upraised hand; something which

flashed in the sunlight as it spun to the ground. Then I knew what had

blinded me at that crucial moment of the fight, and how Sarkoja had

found a way to kill me without herself delivering the final thrust.

Another thing I saw, too, which almost lost my life for me then and

there, for it took my mind for the fraction of an instant entirely from

my antagonist; for, as Dejah Thoris struck the tiny mirror from her

hand, Sarkoja, her face livid with hatred and baffled rage, whipped out

her dagger and aimed a terrific blow at Dejah Thoris; and then Sola,

our dear and faithful Sola, sprang between them; the last I saw was the

great knife descending upon her shielding breast.