Chapter 2

I wandered into the ballroom that evening humming along with the martial tune being played by a group of musicians, and noticed a few masculine eyes following me. Amused, I recalled that Lara had declared my jade-green gown and contrasting red hair more appropriate for a Christmas celebration on Earth – except that the transparency of the gown might not have been appropriate for the occasion.

Speechmaking and ritual having been dispensed with earlier in the day, the Jed's coronation ball was free of ceremony. Raised in a royal household, I was not intimidated by the many jeds and jeddaks present. They were, to me, an interesting, sometimes tiresome, and only occasionally fascinating cross section of Martian males.

Tarin, occupied with politely fending off an importunate young lady, grinned at me wryly when I caught his eye and winked at him. I had warned him that the assaults upon his bachelorhood would become increasingly aggressive now that he was Jed.

The three most prestigious men present, my great-grandfathers John Carter and Mors Kajak, and his father the great Tardos Mors, stood deep in discussion in a group near one corner of the room with another man whom I did not immediately recognize.

"Solving the world's problems again?" I teased as I approached them, immediately walking into the arms of Tardos Mors for a filial embrace. He was the eldest of them by three or four centuries, and though his body still appeared to be in its prime, his face showed his years with a multitude of fine lines.

"Indeed, child," he chuckled, wrapping his long arms about me. "How lovely you look this evening."

Fully aware that the Warlord should have been next in precedence, I deliberately hugged Mors Kajak, Dejah Thoris's father. "My greetings, grandsire," I said.

He embraced me with a chuckle of delight at my intransigence.

I then moved to stand in front of John Carter, my hands behind my back. "Good evening, Grampa Jack," I said contritely in English, peeking up at him with a sly smile. "With all the preparations for the ceremony this is the first opportunity we've had to speak."

The twinkle in his grey eyes belied his feigned disapproval. "Trying to avoid me, are you?" he muttered in his Virginian drawl, shaking his head and holding out his arms.

I laid my head against his chest. "Never, sire. I've missed you."

"As I miss you always, carrot top." He held me away from him, his eyes narrowing. "You're planning something." My childhood mischievousness was a standing joke between us.

I threw him a brilliant smile, wondering if he really had sensed something. He did possess some telepathic ability and was uncomfortably close to the truth. I offered up a wide-eyed look of utter innocence. "I can't imagine what you mean."

He snorted. "Whatever it is, be careful."

"I'll consider it," I evaded with a sly grin, and then turned inquiringly toward the man looking on at Jack's side.

"Cara," Jack said, "I believe you have met Kantos Kan."

Of the few men of the Barsoomian race apart from my relatives whom I held in awe, Kantos Kan, John Carter's first and greatest friend, headed the list.

I studied him with frank curiosity, an impudent scrutiny he withstood with aplomb and returned with a disconcerting gleam. Jedwar of Helium's imperial forces and second only in power to the Warlord, he was one of Barsoom's most illustrious – and deadliest – warriors. Radiating confidence and an undeniable magnetism, he possessed a powerful athletic build and a once-handsome face which now displayed the scars of innumerable desperate duels to the death. The harsh character lines of his face gave a stark indication of the ravages of horrors no man should ever witness, but deep in his eyes blazed that unquenchable loyalty and ineffable joie de vivre that had befriended him to John Carter and made him beloved of the men who followed him.

Quietly dressed in a dark blue formal tunic trimmed in silver, he wore a plain harness which displayed ceremonial weapons and his personal insignia. When the thought occurred to me that he probably would not have been able to stand up under the weight of his decorations, he gave a sardonic sniff.

I blinked in alarm. Had he read that? I was unaccustomed to any but my family detecting my thoughts.

I held out my right hand, palm toward him in the manner that women greet men. "Of course we've met," I answered, "but only rarely. You always seem to be manning the battlements of Helium when my grandsire comes to Kobol."

Kantos Kan's smile transformed his ravaged face. "True enough, Princess. But this time the battlements will have to fend for themselves. It's a delight to see you again."

He raised his left palm in return - an ancient custom that ensures a man's sword arm remains free when greeting a female. But instead of matching my salutation he curled my fingers over his with his thumb and brushed my hand with his lips – a Victorian era courtesy that he must have learned from Jack.

A kind of electrical charge passed between us when he touched me and it shook me to my toes. I caught my breath when his startled eyes flew upward to meet mine.

No! I blinked. Impossible! It doesn't happen like that.

Chiding myself for being delusional, I gathered in my scattered wits and searched for something intelligent to say. What emerged was, "I think Lara has concocted something exotic to drink. Would you care to experiment?" Then I bit my lip in rebuke for being presumptuous.

I glimpsed that irrepressible twinkle in his eyes before he bowed his head in assent and his warrior's braid fell forward over his shoulder. We set out across the ballroom being careful not to touch.

When we were far enough from the others not to be overheard, he stopped and turned toward me. "That was . . ." he searched for a word, "extraordinary. And you felt it too." It was not a question.

I lost whatever composure I had gained. The obvious reply would have been What do you mean? but I had never learned to dissemble.

I nodded slowly. "I've never experienced its like . . . "

"Nor have I," he said, his deep brown eyes watching me intently.

I stared in astonishment. This man was a century older than I and his reputation for womanizing had long been fodder for palace gossip. His famous charisma would have attracted scores of women over the years. How could he not have felt something in return?

I said bluntly, "I don't believe you."

"Unsurprising," he said with a wry smile.

Shocked, I said, "You can read my thoughts!"

"The implication, if not the exact words – though I've always believed my ability to be negligible," he admitted and then raised an ironic eyebrow. "But then you made no effort to hide them either."

"I've never had to," I whispered, appalled. "My mother is the only one who can read me like that . . . "

"Until now."

I became aware that the two of us must have been an arresting sight where we stood in the middle of the room, staring at each other with wordless intensity. In response to that thought, Kantos Kan took my elbow and gently propelled me toward the terrace.

With his touch producing more unsettling sensations, we walked out into the darkness and stood against the carved balustrade looking out over the night garden. Under the light of both swift Thuria and lazy Cluros, hundreds of magnificent pimalia blooms twice the size of my two open hands fluoresced in ever-changing colours.

Apart from his public image, I knew very little about Kantos Kan and nothing at all about his personal life apart from rumour. He had always been at John Carter's side as warrior, advisor and confidant almost from the moment Jack had arrived on Mars. They had saved one other's lives countless times. Though Lara accuses me of being fearless, I was overawed by his experience, celebrity, and air of self-assurance.

Still – unable to repress my curiosity and forgetting the niceties of Martian etiquette – I felt compelled to ask, "Have you never been wed?"

"Only to my lady sword."

"All your life?"

"My life so far," he answered with an inscrutable look.

"It seems a bleak life, then, with no joy save battle."

He turned toward me. "Do not mistake me, Cara. As you have no doubt surmised, there have been many brief – " he shrugged – "interludes apart from battle. I even have a son. For some men it is enough."

"Is it enough for you?" I asked, then bit my tongue. Dangerous ground, Cara!

"It has been until now, Princess," he murmured, unfazed. "I had not known that I was capable of such a – sharing of minds. It is quite, quite intoxicating."

As he spoke, he moved closer. Much closer. Tentative and feather-light, his hands moved up my arms to my shoulders, and his deep brown eyes, now black in the moon shadows, searched mine for permission. When I didn't back away, he bent toward me, tipped his head and explored my lips at leisure with his.

Oh my.

As a highly eligible princess, I had been courted and kissed before by suitors of all ranks, but never so enticingly. Another woman in my place might have assumed that Kantos Kan was trifling with her, but not I. As our lips met, our thoughts mingled and I knew his ardor was real. But how could that be? We had met, really, only a few moments ago! My doubts, however, didn't stop me from responding to his kiss and enjoying the moment.

I felt the great strength of his arms as he drew me closer. I'm not sure I could have broken that hold, even if I'd wished to. My hands, of their own volition, crept up his chest to his ravaged face, where they lingered for a moment before sliding into his hair. Our bodies touched, and . . .

The garden was suddenly filled with silent black-clad figures, their swords flashing dimly in the light of the two moons.