CHAPTER V – Thu­via, Maid of Mars opens with Cartho­ris of Heli­um cau­tious­ly mak­ing his way through a dark and wind­ing sub­ter­ranean tun­nel. Behind him lurks a silent but dead­ly banth, its low growl a chill­ing reminder of the ever-present dan­ger in Bar­soom’s wild places. As he emerges from the nar­row pas­sage, Cartho­ris finds him­self in a breath­tak­ing valley—lush, sun­lit, and seem­ing­ly untouched by time. How­ev­er, this par­adise is any­thing but safe. Almost instant­ly, he is thrust into a con­flict between green Mar­tians and a mys­te­ri­ous group of bow­men accom­pa­nied by lion-like beasts. In the heart of this chaos, he spots Thu­via, whose pres­ence jolts him with relief and con­fu­sion, only for her to recoil in dis­trust, still under the impres­sion that he is respon­si­ble for her abduc­tion.

Thuvia’s uncer­tain­ty weighs heav­i­ly on Cartho­ris, espe­cial­ly as his every ges­ture is shad­owed by the manip­u­la­tion of events beyond his con­trol. Though his devo­tion is clear, the doubts plant­ed in her mind con­tin­ue to cloud her judg­ment. Their con­ver­sa­tion is restrained, emo­tion­al­ly charged, but with­out res­o­lu­tion. Just as ten­sions between them begin to mount, the city’s defend­ers engage in a fierce skir­mish against Hor­tan Gur’s green war­riors, inter­rupt­ing the moment and reveal­ing more about the strange peo­ple of this hid­den place. Their auburn hair and pale skin dis­tin­guish them from oth­er Mar­t­ian races, hint­ing at a long-lost lin­eage tied to Barsoom’s ancient past. The air hums with the ener­gy of ancient tra­di­tions clash­ing with cur­rent crises.

Cartho­ris stands firm amid the con­fronta­tion, prov­ing his val­or as he aids in repelling the invaders. Even in bat­tle, his mind lingers on Thu­via, though he hides his affec­tion out of respect for her betrothal to Kulan Tith. Thu­via, watch­ing him, begins to ques­tion the harsh­ness of her ini­tial judg­ment, though she says lit­tle. The war­riors and bow­men fight with near-silent pre­ci­sion, giv­ing the entire bat­tle a sur­re­al qual­i­ty, while the banths move like liv­ing shad­ows under their com­mand. The coor­di­na­tion of this defense sug­gests not only skill but a deep­er spir­i­tu­al or men­tal bond between these war­riors and the crea­tures they fight beside.

Fol­low­ing the clash, Thu­via and Cartho­ris are brought to the city by its mys­te­ri­ous inhab­i­tants, who speak lit­tle and observe much. With­in the city walls, Cartho­ris sens­es a deep­er enigma—this place is not just a fortress but a rem­nant of a civ­i­liza­tion thought long gone. The bow­men, stat­uesque and dis­ci­plined, bear no insignia of the mod­ern Mar­t­ian city-states, and their cus­toms evoke an old­er time. As Cartho­ris tries to gath­er intel­li­gence, Thu­via remains reserved, caught between grat­i­tude and lin­ger­ing sus­pi­cion. Still, her eyes linger on him longer than before, and her ques­tions become more point­ed, sug­gest­ing her inter­nal strug­gle to rec­on­cile her heart and her duty.

The city itself is silent but not lifeless—filled with signs of order and lega­cy. Thu­via, drawn by the pres­ence of the banths and their curi­ous obe­di­ence to her will, begins to sus­pect that her mys­te­ri­ous influ­ence over them may be more than coin­ci­dence. Cartho­ris qui­et­ly watch­es her com­mand the beasts with mere thought or glance, won­der­ing if she pos­sess­es a gift root­ed in Bar­soom’s for­got­ten pow­ers. The city’s elders hint at ancient lore, imply­ing that Thu­vi­a’s gift may hold sig­nif­i­cance even they don’t ful­ly under­stand.

As night falls, the uncer­tain­ties grow. The green Mar­tians may regroup and return, and ques­tions about the city’s ori­gins and Thuvia’s abil­i­ties remain unan­swered. Cartho­ris and Thu­via are safe for now but know that safe­ty on Bar­soom is fleet­ing. This chap­ter deep­ens the mys­tery and emo­tion­al com­plex­i­ty of their jour­ney, lay­er­ing ancient his­to­ry with emerg­ing affec­tion and shift­ing loy­al­ties. The shad­ow of mis­un­der­stand­ing still looms, but the seeds of trust begin to take root—nurtured not just by cir­cum­stance, but by the strength of char­ac­ter each reveals under pres­sure.