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so I thought at the time.
My own faith in the Goddess of Death and Eternal Life remained unshaken;
and would for long years to come. My trust in Issus was as strong as the day
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I'd first set foot in her temple at the center of Greater Helium. It could not
be otherwise. I was a Defender of the Faith -- the faith of my father, my
brother, and all our ancestors.
I know now that I was as deluded as the fanatics who stared down upon me that
day from their perches surrounding a stone idol. That is a bitter admission
for any red man of Barsoom to make; perhaps more bitter than you of our sister
planet can know.
In the years since John Carter and my granddaughter revealed the hideous
truth, the sham that is Dor and the wickedness of Issus, there are times when
I
recall the beliefs of my Shis-Inday. And I wonder.
Late at night, in the solitude of my cavernous palace, I sometimes seek the
wisdom of Shis-Inday's Usen. I can tell you honestly, nephew of John Carter,
that I believe the Life-Giver hears me -- a thing Issus never did. Even when I
believed, I never felt her presence.
Perhaps Man creates god in his own image. Or some perverted contortion of it.
That does not change Man's need for a god that listens. For who else will?
Shis-Inday continued the story of her gods:
"To make The World live, Black Water gave it blood by causing the rivers to
flow. Black Mountain gave it a skeleton of hills and mountains. This way it
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A Princess of Jasoom: Blasphemy was strong. Black Wind breathed life into The
World by causing the wind to blow. The World was there in Usen's Universe, but
it was cold. So Black
Thunder clothed The World in trees and grass. This way it was made warm."
"And did it just lay there, in darkness?" asked the high priest.
"Of course not," answered Shis-Inday. The reply dripped from her tongue,
scornfully.
"In the beginning, there was no darkness," she said. "Sun shone all the time.
Night was kept prisoner in a sack, and Usen gave the sack to Badger to guard."
"Night was kept in a sack?" Hora San demanded. "That's preposterous! A land of
eternal daylight?"
The high priest turned to the audience, spreading his arms wide.
"Preposterous!" he shouted, and the glaring crowd hissed its contempt. "If
there was no night, how could Tur cause the eggs of our young to spring forth
from His mouth?"
Shis-Inday was not deterred.
"One day Coyote saw Badger carrying the sack, and thought he had things to eat
in there," she continued, ignoring the snickers of derision that still
tittered from above. "Coyote started walking with Badger and said, `Old man,
you look pretty tired. Why don't you let me carry that sack for a while?'"
Hora San folded his arms, yawning.
"Badger knew that Coyote was playing tricks," Shis-Inday said. "But Badger was
indeed an old man. And he was tired. So he trusted Coyote to hold the sack for
a little while. Sometimes we all need to trust one who is not worthy of trust.
That is the way of things. Badger lay down by a tree to sleep."
"This is a child's tale," Hora San said. "I assume this `Coyote' fellow opened
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A Princess of Jasoom: Blasphemy the sack, and Night escaped."
"He couldn't help it," Shis-Inday said. "It is Coyote's nature to do wrong.
Badger could not blame him. And neither could Usen, or the Human Beings.
Coyote is misguided."
That stopped Hora San for a moment. He licked thin lips, eyeing the girl with
suspicion.
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"Nor do I blame you, or the people of this strange place," Shis- Inday said.
"You know not what you do. But you are hungry, and will do what you please.
It's in the nature of Man to fill his belly, no matter the cost."
The high priest stared at the girl, his emotions rocking between disbelief and
rage.
Soon, he regained his composure. Or, some semblance of it.
"Preposterous," he said again. But it was with less conviction than before.
Hora San's white face had grown somber. He stepped closer, and spoke in a
voice too low for anyone else in the chamber to hear, except for Shis-Inday
and me.
"And you, red man," he said. "I suppose you'll tell me of Issus?"
I made no reply.
"And Dor?" he continued. "Your heaven? The peaceful afterlife to which every
man, woman and child of your race aspires following a thousand years of
bloodshed?"
I refused to say anything of my faith to this heathen. It surprised me when he
chuckled in a tone that sounded almost sympathetic.
"Your heaven, Prince of Helium, is in truth a hell," he whispered. "You should
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A Princess of Jasoom: Blasphemy sink to your knees and thank me for preventing
you from ever reaching it."
With that, he turned and walked back toward the statue god. When the high
priest arrived at its base, Tur spoke our fate. "Death by fire," bellowed the
stone god.
The only sound in the great hall was the hysterical laughter of Xaxa, princess
of Phundahl.
No one noticed, or seemed to care, that Xax, the Jeddak, was gone.
Chapter Eleven:
Hora San
The "POJ"
Table of Contents
E-mail the writer:
jefflong@livenet.net
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A Princess of Jasoom: Hora San
Chapter Eleven: Hora San
words by Jeff, art by David
As we descended toward the waiting fiends who would carry out the order to
burn us alive, I wrestled feverishly with the chains that bound my wrists. The
dais seemed to move downward faster than it had risen. The stone rollers
fairly shrieked in protest as they scraped the sides of the shaft, sparks
flying in the dimness that enveloped us. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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