At this point, John Carter should probably always assume that his wife is in distress. It will cut down on his time assessing the situation, I think. 

In this book, the third in Carter's adventures on Mars, our hero goes from one pole of the red planet to the other. Where the South Pole is full of dark-skinned religious zealots, the North Pole is full of lemon-hued big-game hunters. All enemies are out to get John Carter and steal his beloved Dejah Thoris.

He has left his son from the last book behind while he broodily scours the planet for clues to aid his damsel, who is, as usual I guess, in distress. 

That cliffhanger from the last book? The one where he'd have to go a whole year before finding out whether his wife survived? Carter just isn't the kind of guy to sit around for that.

I grew up on cheesy scifi movies and books, and I still have a soft spot for them. They're pure nostalgia for me. This is campy scifi at its finest. 

I mean, just look at the series' plot holes… Lots of things from the first two books are abandoned or forgotten in Warlords. Carter's immortality and perpetual youth aren't discussed. Nor are his family's guaranteed abandonment issues. And for goodness sake, what happened to Ned?!

None of it matters to the reader as they follow Carter's melodramatic self-aggrandizing adventures. You roll your eyes at his monologues and you cheer him on in the heat of battle. He's a man of the (Martian) people, through and through. 

I can't wait to pick up the next one.