Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Martians -- Fiction; Science fiction
"Briefly, charming girl," I said, for the wine was beginning to sing in
my head, and my eyes were blinking stupidly--"briefly, Hath hath thee
not, and there's an end of it. I would spit a score of Haths, as these
figs are spit on this golden skewer, before I would relinquish a hair
of your head to him, or to any man," and as everything about the great
hall began to look gauzy and unreal through the gathering fumes of my
confusion, I smiled on that gracious lady, and began to whisper I know
not what to her, and whisper and doze, and doze--
I know not how long afterwards it was, whether a minute or an hour, but
when I lifted my head suddenly from the lady's shoulder all the place
was in confusion, every one upon their feet, the talk and the drinking
ceased, and all eyes turned to the far doorway where the curtains were
just dropping again as I looked, while in front of them were standing
three men.
These newcomers were utterly unlike any others--a frightful vision of
ugly strength amidst the lolling loveliness all about. Low of stature,
broad of shoulder, hairy, deep-chested, with sharp, twinkling eyes, set
far back under bushy eyebrows, retreating foreheads, and flat noses in
faces tanned to a dusky copper hue by exposure to every kind of weather
that racks the extreme Martian climate they were so opposite to all
about me, so quaint and grim amongst those mild, fair-skinned folk,
that at first I thought they were but a disordered creation of my fancy.
I rubbed my eyes and stared and blinked, but no! they were real men, of
flesh and blood, and now they had come down with as much stateliness as
their bandy legs would admit of, into the full glare of the lights to
the centre table where Hath sat. I saw their splendid apparel, the
great strings of rudely polished gems hung round their hairy necks and
wrists, the cunningly dyed skins of soft-furred animals, green and red
and black, wherewith their limbs were swathed, and then I heard some
one by me whisper in a frightened tone, "The envoys from over seas."
"Oh," I thought sleepily to myself, "so these are the ape-men of the
western woods, are they? Those who long ago vanquished my
white-skinned friends and yearly come to claim their tribute. Jove,
what hay they must have made of them! How those peach-skinned girls
must have screamed and the downy striplings by them felt their dimpled
knees knock together, as the mad flood of barbarians came pouring over
from the forest, and long ago stormed their citadels like a stream of
red lava, as deadly, as irresistible, as remorseless!" And I lay
asprawl upon my arms on the table watching them with the stupid
indifference I thought I could so well afford.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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