I
was only partially successful, as a sharp pain in my left shoulder
attested, but in the sweep of my glance as I sought to again locate
my adversary, a sight met my astonished gaze which paid me well for
the wound the temporary blindness had caused me. There, upon Dejah
Thoris' chariot stood three figures, for the purpose evidently of
witnessing the encounter above the heads of the intervening Tharks.
There were Dejah Thoris, Sola, and Sarkoja, and as my fleeting
glance swept over them a little tableau was presented which will
stand graven in my memory to the day of my death.
As I looked, Dejah Thoris turned upon Sarkoja with the fury of a
young tigress and struck something from her upraised hand; something
which flashed in the sunlight as it spun to the ground. Then I knew
what had blinded me at that crucial moment of the fight, and how
Sarkoja had found a way to kill me without herself delivering the
final thrust. Another thing I saw, too, which almost lost my life
for me then and there, for it took my mind for the fraction of an
instant entirely from my antagonist; for, as Dejah Thoris struck the
tiny mirror from her hand, Sarkoja, her face livid with hatred and
baffled rage, whipped out her dagger and aimed a terrific blow at
Dejah Thoris; and then Sola, our dear and faithful Sola, sprang
between them; the last I saw was the great knife descending upon her
shielding breast.
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