Chapter 7

From the throne room, we were led to our quarters, three ramps up to what might once have been a luxurious suite of rooms, but now contained dozens of single-person sleeping platforms where silks and furs lay neatly folded on each. I took possession of a vacant bed close to the door and stowed my pack in a wall niche above it. I didn't know how much liberty I was allowed, but set out instantly to search for Kantos Kan. Thinking he might have been imprisoned in the tower which, when we were there, had been three or four storeys high, I climbed the ramp only two floors to discover that the tower had fallen away, its entrance open to the thin air of dying Mars.

I walked slowly back down the ramp and along dusty draughty corridors, searching. I found him on the ground floor in a hallway near the kitchens. I suppose it was as far as his captors had been able to carry his heavy unconscious body.

In full view of everyone passing, he was imprisoned in a cage barely large enough for him to stand or lie in. Kantos appeared to be either comatose or heavily drugged. His elegant tunic was filthy and bloody and, from the amount, it appeared that someone had used it to stanch the initial flow of blood from the amputation. Judging by the angry red welt encircling his upper arm, a tourniquet had been mercilessly applied. I moved as close to the bars as I could, peering at the arm in the dim light of a waning radium bulb, and winced. The wound, black, encrusted and oozing, appeared to have been crudely cauterized and left unprotected.

Enraged, I stood abruptly and charged down the corridor looking for someone - anyone in authority. I hurried to the throne room and through its empty doorway, the doors themselves having disintegrated millennia since.

"What are you doing here, recruit?" a harsh voice said from behind a desk just inside the door.

I swung around to confront the stern face of Wenda, one of the officers I had followed with the new recruits. I wanted to hit her. Vibrating with the effort of restraining my fury, I said, "Why has the prisoner not been attended to?"

She looked at me oddly, then shrugged. "Some of our people were injured in a raid. They were treated first. We did what we could."

"Why is he a prisoner?" I demanded. "Do you not recruit men?"

Wenda gave a lascivious smile. "We are an army of women – of course we 'recruit' men. How else will we increase our numbers?" She sneered. "He was pretending to be Carthan. We didn't find out he wasn't until the Jeddarra saw him when we returned home."

I bit my tongue. Pretending to be Carthan, indeed! She didn't know who he was, and I had no intention of telling her.

I said through my teeth, "He appears to be as fully Barsoomian as you or I and won't be any use to you if he dies. Will you allow me to treat him? His wound is infected."

"Is it," she said with indifference, turning back to the document she was reading.

Struggling for sweet reason, I gritted, "The Jeddarra might not be pleased if the man dies from lack of proper treatment."

She looked at me sourly, then rose with a sigh. "Very well. Come with me. I will give you medical supplies."

When she tried to stint on bandages and ointment, I pointed out that even a one-armed man could father children. With a little more effort, she searched out scissors, knife, needle and thread.

Armed with a large jar of disinfectant and a basin of boiled water from the kitchen, I all but ran back to Kantos' cage. He lay in the same position I had left him, still unconscious.

Discovering the cage was unlocked – how after all could he escape? – I climbed in with him, squirming around awkwardly until his encrusted stump lay in the basin. I am no physician, but with a dearth of medical personnel on the planet, most Barsoomians have fairly sophisticated first aid skills gained from never-ending battles. Carthan had made certain Tarin and I possessed those skills.

I thanked the stars that Kantos appeared to feel nothing as I painstakingly cleaned the burnt and encrusted flesh and applied healing ointment. With the knife I undercut and stretched the skin all around the wound, pulled the edges together and stitched them as closely as I could. Slathering on more ointment, I wrapped the stump in a clean bandage and tied the ends.

Shaking from the concentrated effort, I slumped back against the bars. It was the best I could do. I hoped it would be enough.

"Tola," Kantos Kan whispered hoarsely.

"Have you been awake all along?" I gasped, conscience-stricken. I had not been gentle – and he hadn't moved a muscle.

He whispered. "The pain was in my dreams – I awoke when it eased."

He didn't seem to be entirely rational and didn't appear to recognize me. I suspected his resources were so depleted that his telepathic ability was subsumed by pain or drugs. I dared not tell him who I was either, for fear that if the infection spread and he became delirious, he might inadvertently reveal my identity. I crawled from the cage, stood on aching legs, and whispered, "I will return with food."

I ran to my room and rummaged around in my pack. Hurrying to the kitchen, I begged the duty cook for a mug of broth to which I added a generous amount of analgesic and dissolved a piece of my dehydrated camp food ~ sufficient nourishment for a day of arduous hiking. Kantos would need everything I could stuff into him to speed his healing.

He was so depleted he could not push himself upright. I crawled in behind him and, trying not to jar his arm, raised his head and shoulders by increments against my knees and chest. He leaned heavily against me as I coaxed him to swallow the broth. It was clear he was beyond hunger, having been given nothing but water for four days. With an effort he managed to swallow most of it; I hoped he wouldn't bring it up again. When he would drink no more I waited for awhile, relishing the solidity of his body in my arms, until the analgesic took effect and his tension began to ease. Helping him to lie down, I backed out of the cage. As his pain receded, he relaxed in relief and finally closed his eyes in sleep.

For a long time I sat against the wall hugging my knees, watching while he slept. A melody began to drift through my mind – the tune Lara had been humming as she applied dye to my skin. With it, came the words . . .

This lovely lonely man

I've only known a day –

I look at him, and cannot look away. . .