Edgar Rice Burroughs' 1934-35 Swords of Mars, eighth in his eleven-book Barsoom series, begins with the brief narrative frame of one of those occasional visits via astral projection of John Carter down to the fictionalized author, this time during a solo trip to the wilds of Arizona, then moves on with the Warlord's first-person tale "of loyalty and love, of hate and crime, a story of dripping swords, of strange places and strange people upon a stranger world" (1963 Ballantine paperback, page 9).
Now and then the existence of an assassins' guild has come up in the Barsoom novels, perhaps most pointedly in the sixth book, The Master Mind of Mars. It is the type of thing that rings so classically of the fantasy genre, redolent of baroque intrigue, involved codes and customs, and an unlikely honor-among-thieves mentality. Yet of course it also is the type of thing that the reader generally cannot look into too closely. Why, for example, would not just nobles but ordinary commoners in cities all over the world hire assassins to kill their enemies? Is there really that much for one neighbor to gain, whether monetarily or simply in satisfaction, by bumping off garrulous old Mrs. Mc-Ur-icuddy next door? 'Tis a tad difficult for me to credit, but, oh, well-- I guess we don't visit Barsoom not to suspend a li'l disbelief.
According to John Carter, on Mars "assassination is a profession; kidnaping a fine art. Each has its guild, its laws, its customs, and its code of ethics; and so widespread are their ramifications that they seem inextricably interwoven into the entire social and political life of the planet" (pages 10-11). To an honorable fighting man of Virginia, this situation is distasteful at best, but even the Warlord of Mars cannot change a hundred thousand years of culture with a snap of his fingers. Although some agree with his judgment of "this noxious system," these stalwarts, who would have fought alongside him to the death had they believed final victory possible, consider the hopeless struggle merely "another means for committing suicide" (page 11). Why, even "Dejah Thoris and [his] son, Carthoris, often counseled [him] to abandon the fight; but all [his] life [he has] been loath to admit defeat, nor ever [has he] willingly abandoned the chance for a good fight" (page 11).
Despite the guild and all its rules, though, somehow "most of the killings of the assassins" are of the "[c]ertain types" that "upon Mars are punishable by death" (page 11). Legally, this means little when "even eyewitnesses [fear] to testify against them," but John Carter in his years-long "thankless" struggle has created a secret organization of special crime-busters (page 11). After "ferret[ing] out the murderer," these agents serve as "judge and jury and eventually executioner," finishing off with a flashy "X" cut in the flesh over the heart of the offender as a message to others (page 11). I confess to finding such a schtick greatly enjoyable.
"More power to the Warlord," ordinary folks may nod approvingly upon hearing of one of his organization's just killings (page 48), but with a secretive planetwide guild against him, it may be "little less than a miracle" that John Carter has "for so long escaped the keen blade of the assassin" (page 11). Yet there's more than one way to skin a Carter...
When the Earthman, with his pale skin dyed red in disguise, visits the city of Zodanga, which back in the first book in the series had been sacked by John Carter's allies, he intends to teach a lesson to the local assassins who had "openly boasted that they were too smart for [him]" (page 12). The intrigues are a little more convoluted, however, and chance steers him the wrong way. After purposefully tagging along with a disreputable fellow called Rapas the Rat, he finds himself getting connected not with the assassins' guild but with Fal Sivas, a classic semi-mad scientist whose classic arch-rival scientist is intertwined with the guild.
These spaceship-building competitors have their sights set on "Thuria, the nearer moon, known to earth men as Phobos" (page 13), upon which according to spectroscopic analysis "must be mountains of gold and platinum...and vast plains carpeted with precious stones" (page 61). For the moment, though, in Zodanga there is much amusement to be had at the expense of the scheming but transparent Rapas, along with swordsmen who imagine they can best the great John Carter. There are capers and intrigues, plus of course a "young and well-formed and good-looking" (page 66) female slave whom the disguised Warlord saves from a sinister open-skull brain-drain operation...though, due to her family's destruction resultant to the sack of the city, she considers John Carter "the author of all [her] sorrows" and explains that if she ever encounters him, she "should find a way to kill him, even if [she] had to descend to the dagger or poison" (page 67).
Yet even while the wily and skilled John Carter investigates in the mazy alleys of once-looted Zodanga, agents of his enemies have insinuated themselves into noble Helium, yea even unto the retinue of his "divine princess, Dejah Thoris" (page 75)...for kidnapping is, after all, a "fine art." Ah, "[h]ow well [his] enemies knew where to strike at [him]! How well they knew [his] vulnerable parts!" (page 77). Thinking of his beloved imperiled so makes a "blood-red mist [swim] before his eyes" and "the blood-lust of the killer [dominate him] completely" (page 82), but the experienced fighting man must subsume these passions to a warrior's stratagem as, dueling-spaceships-wise, he heads to Thuria, since nowhere on Barsoom would the kidnappers be safe from the searching of "the great Tardos Mors" (page 75), Dejah Thoris's grandfather and the Emperor of Helium.
And there, with the help of a faithful fellow Heliumite soldier and the John-Carter-hating slave girl, along with a Thurian kitty-cat-man and eventually an ally even stranger, the Warlord of Mars must outwit invisible alien enemies and Barsoomian treachery alike. Without giving away any spoilers, I can comment that the conclusion comes with incredible suddenness after it had appeared, really, that another several chapters of adventure would be needed, and the notion of mining the untold wealth of Thuria seems to be forgotten, nor are the various ethical, social, and military issues raised by the weird mechanical brain created by Fal Sivas for his spaceship further explored...but that's the pulps for ya. Indeed, for its genre and for its age, Swords of Mars does remain a fun and entertaining 4-star read.