“Yet A-Kor is one of them,” said Tara.

“He is a son of O-Tar, the jeddak,” replied Lan-O; “but his mother was a high born Gatholian, captured and made slave by O-Tar, and A-Kor boasts that in his veins runs only the blood of his mother, and indeed is he different from the others.  His chivalry is of a gentler form, though not even his worst enemy has dared question his courage, while his skill with the sword, and the spear, and the thoat is famous throughout the length and breadth of Manator.”

“What think you they will do with him?” asked Tara of Helium.

“Sentence him to the games,” replied Lan-O.  “If O-Tar be not greatly angered he may be sentenced to but a single game, in which case he may come out alive; but if O-Tar wishes really to dispose of him he will be sentenced to the entire series, and no warrior has ever survived the full ten, or rather none who was under a sentence from O-Tar.”

“What are the games?  I do not understand,” said Tara “I have heard them speak of playing at jetan, but surely no one can be killed at jetan.  We play it often at home.”

“But not as they play it in the arena at Manator,” replied Lan-O.  “Come to the window,” and together the two approached an aperture facing toward the east.

Below her Tara of Helium saw a great field entirely surrounded by the low building, and the lofty towers of which that in which she was imprisoned was but a unit.  About the arena were tiers of seats; but the a thing that caught her attention was a gigantic jetan board laid out upon the floor of the arena in great squares of alternate orange and black.

“Here they play at jetan with living pieces.  They play for great stakes and usually for a woman—­some slave of exceptional beauty.  O-Tar himself might have played for you had you not angered him, but now you will be played for in an open game by slaves and criminals, and you will belong to the side that wins—­not to a single warrior, but to all who survive the game.”

The eyes of Tara of Helium flashed, but she made no comment.

“Those who direct the play do not necessarily take part in it,” continued the slave girl, “but sit in those two great thrones which you see at either end of the board and direct their pieces from square to square.”

“But where lies the danger?” asked Tara of Helium.  “If a piece be taken it is merely removed from the board—­this is a rule of jetan as old almost as the civilization of Barsoom.”

“But here in Manator, when they play in the great arena with living men, that rule is altered,” explained Lan-O.  “When a warrior is moved to a square occupied by an opposing piece, the two battle to the death for possession of the square and the one that is successful advantages by the move.  Each is caparisoned to simulate the piece he represents and in addition he wears that which indicates whether he be slave, a warrior serving a sentence, or a volunteer.  If serving a sentence the number of games he must play is also indicated, and thus the one directing the moves knows which pieces to risk and which to conserve, and further than this, a man’s chances are affected by the position that is assigned him for the game.  Those whom they wish to die are always Panthans in the game, for the Panthan has the least chance of surviving.”