"Who are you," Vokal snapped, "and what do you want of me?"
"I am Tarsal," croaked the stranger, "once guard in your service. Many moons ago I fought with one of Jaltor's guards and slew him. Since that day I have been confined in the pits of Ammad's king."
Ekbar, who had been staring at theman closely while he was speaking, nodded. "He tells the truth, Most-High. I recognize him now."
"What do you want of me?" Vokal said again, his voice shrill with impatience.
"I came to warn you," Tarsal said. "Garlud and Jotan, his son, have escaped from their cells and have gathered together a small army taken from Jaltor's pits. They say that it was because of you that Garlud and Jotan were imprisoned by Jaltor, and they are coming to capture you and take you before the king."
The nobleman's skin turned a dirty white. This was ruin for him! Wildly he sought to think of some way by which he could escape Jaltor's wrath, once the truth came out.
"What are the plans of this mob?" he demanded. "Do they expect to win Jaltor's support in the fight against me?"
"Not that I know of, Most-High. They spoke of stealing from the palace and marching here to take you captive and bring you before Ammad's king that he may hear the truth from your own lips."
Vokal's brain was working with cold precision. There was a way out, then! Were he and his warriors able to ambush this gang of prison rats, able to wipe them out to the last man, there would be none left alive to tell Jaltor what they had hoped to accomplish.
All thoughts of the mysterious young woman who had raced from his apartment earlier that night were forgotten as he whirled about to confront the open-mouthed Ekbar.
"There is still time," he cried, "to save ourselves. Listen to me closely, Ekbar, and do exactly as I say!"
Asthe heavily armed force of perhaps one hundred and fifty men entered one of Ammad's broad avenues no more than two blocks from Vokal's palace, Jotan called it to a halt while the leaders conferred.
Five men comprised the leadership of the relatively small army. They were Jotan and his father, Tamar, Tharn and young Trakor. Almost from the first it was Tharn to whom the others turned for guidance, despite the fact that he was a complete stranger to Ammad.
"How many men," Tharn asked, "are likely to be defending Vokal's palace?"
"No less than five hundred," Jotan said grimly. "We shall be badly outnumbered my friend."
"We have something on our side worth hundreds of warriors," Tharn observed. "Surprise is our biggest and best ally. If we can win our way into Vokal's palace and reach the quarters of Vokal himself before his guards are sufficiently alerted to interfere, the fight will be over before it begins."
"And how do you propose this shall be done?"
Tharn rubbed his chin while his quick mind reviewed the situation. "I think," he said finally, "That it would be better if Trakor and I went ahead and removed the guards outside the wall gates. Then our entire force can enter the grounds themselves and hide in the shrubbery there until a door at the rear of the palace can be unbarred. It might serve us best if Trakor and I go directly to Vokal's room and take him captive before we give the signal for the rest of you to enter."
Garlud was shaking his head. "No. That is risking too much. If the two of you were captured, the entire palace would be alerted before the rest of us could put a foot inside it. Then indeed would we be helpless; Vokal's men could cut us down from the safety of the palace walls."
The five stood there in the silent sleeping street, stone walls risingsteep and bleak on either side, the entire army behind them hidden from chance view by the almost total lack of light. There was less than two hours remaining before dawn and they must act quickly or lose their chief aid: the darkness of the now moonless night.
It was finally decided that Tharn and Trakor, as a tribute to their superior experience in tracking down the most wary of prey, were the ones to remove the guards outside at least two of the gates in Vokal's wall of stone.
And so it was that the two Cro-Magnards stole away into the darkness, armed with arrows and bow and two good flint knives.
Half an hour later both were back, reporting success to the other leaders. "It was almost too easy," Tharn said thoughtfully. "Where there were four guards at one of the gates earlier tonight, I found but one—and he was sitting with his back to the gate and fast asleep. After I slew him I went on to help Trakor, only to learn he had had an almost similar experience."
"It is not uncommon for guards to sleep at their posts," Jotan said impatiently. "Let us get started before other of Vokal's guards discover the gates are unguarded and rouse the palace defenders."
"I think we should make sure we are not going blindly into some trap," Tharn demurred. "This entire thing is suspicious ... too easy."
But Jotan waved the cave lord into silence. "Can't you understand," he said crisply, "that we don't have time for that? I say let's get on with our plan and not spend time worrying about things that will never happen."
In this both Garlud and Tamar agreed, and so Tharn shrugged and said no more. He was in league with these Ammadians for only one reason: to make it that much easier for him to snatch Dylara from this strange city and return with her to the caves of his own people. What had happened to her, once he and Trakor had fled Vokal's palace earlier that night, leaving her hidden within the building, was something he could not know. But there was no other place in all of Ammad he knew where to look for her, and so he must act in the belief that she still was behind the palace walls, either hidden there or once more a captive of the rascally nobleman.
Lessthan half an hour later all of Jotan's band of warriors squatted behind the belt of foliage just within the walls of Vokal's sprawling palace. In the dim light of stars they could look out between the interstices of growing things, seeing the many windowed bulk of stone rising four full floors above the neighboring terrain. No where in all that vast expanse was there a sign of life. No candle showed its brief flame at any window. Silent and dark and somehow a place of brooding danger.
After another whispered conference, Tharn left the other leaders of the band and flitted across the open ground, moving like a black shadow toward the same doorway through which Trakor had raced to join him only an hour or two earlier.
Those watching him from the shadowy foliage lost sight of him almost at once; and when, a few moments later, he seemed to rise from the ground almost under their noses, a startled gasp from a dozen throats made a rustling sound against the heavy silence.
"The door is still unbarred," Tharn reported, frowning. "I am even surer now, noble Jotan, that we are heading straight for a trap set up by the wily Vokal."
"He could not know our plans," Jotan said impatiently. "It means simply that they forgot to bar the door after the excitement you and your friend caused them earlier. Things are working out well for us."
Tharn smiled his enigmatic smile and said no more. Quickly the five leaders moved among their eager troops, issuing orders down the line. And then, at a single word from Jotan the band of one hundred and fifty armed men stepped into the open and started for the palace walls.
Suddenly the shrill cry of a woman rose against the weighted silence. "Back!" the voice screamed from high above them. "Go back! It is a trap!"
"Dylara!" Tharn shouted, and with great bounding strides he raced toward the palace. Startled by the shrill shout, puzzled by Tharn's dash into the jaws of what might be a trap, the hundred and fifty wavered uncertainly, then charged after the racing cave man.
And as the first wave of Jotan's warriors reached the halfway mark in the clearing, a hundred flaming branches were hurled from the open windows into the courtyard beneath, their flames lighting up the entire ribbon of open ground and disclosing the pitifully small army to the waiting warriors of Vokal.
A rain of arrows, spears and clubs now rained down from those windows upon the men beneath. Men reeled and fell, some instantly dead, others badly wounded. Some of those unhit stopped in their tracks, looked wildly around, then turned to flee for the safety of the street behind them.
And it was then that Vokal's masterful plan was fully unveiled. From those same openings through the stone wall encircling Vokal's estate, came other of that nobleman's warriors, stationed in places of concealment outside, their purpose to close off the last avenue of escape for Jotan's troops.
Inall this confusion, with death threatening from all sides, Trakor had eyes only for his friend and companion—Tharn, lord of the caves.
At first he did not comprehend what lay behind the cave man's mad dash toward the palace. But when he saw Tharn leap lightly up to catch the sill of one window, then swarm rapidly up toward the second story, he understood fully what lay in the giant warrior's mind.
One of Vokal's warriors leaned from a window directly in Tharn's path and raised his spear with the obvious intention of burying its head in the cave man's defenseless body as it hung a full fifteen feet above the ground. Trakor, seeing this, fitted an arrow to his bow with unthinkable quickness and sent the flint tipped missile across space and full into the enemy warrior's exposed chest.
The heavy spear rolled from an already dead hand and the man fell loosely across the wide sill as Tharn worked his way upward past the limp body.
Three more attempts were made by those within to bring down the climbing cave man. On each occasion Trakor, standing like a rock amid a shower of deadly weapons that struck every where about him, brought down the would-be killer.
Tharn was only a few feet from the roof's edge now, his naked feet and long-fingered hands finding foot—and hand-holds where Trakor would have sworn none existed.
Trakor, watching, groaned with sudden fear. Barely visible in the flickering light of torches below, a figure appeared at the roof's edge directly above Tharn's rising form. In the figure's hands was a heavy spear and the arm holding it swept aloft preparatory to skewering Tharn on its point.
Even as Trakor witnessed this, an arrow from his bow was flashing up toward that menacing warrior. But the combination of bad light, distance and the necessity for haste was too great a handicap for success, and the arrow whizzed wide of its mark.
Again Trakor groaned. There was no time for a second shot. Tharn was doomed to die.
And in that second a slender figure appeared at the roof's edge beside the would-be assassin and threw itself headlong against him. The man staggered back under the impact, his spear falling from his hand, then turned and closed with the newcomer.
As the two of them teetered there on the thin strip of stone forming the roof's edge, Tharn's strong hands closed about that same edge and he rose to his feet. He saw who it was that had saved his life: Dylara, daughter of Majok.
Even as he raced forward to save the girl he loved from being thrown into the void below, Tharn knew he was too late. Voicing a scream of fear, Dylara reeled back and toppled into space!
As her feet left the roof, Tharn threw himself headlong in a direction parallel with the edge, one arm out-thrust, the other bent to check his fall. For one agonizing second the reaching hand encountered only air; then his fingers brushed against cloth, closed like a snapped trap, and as his muscular frame crashed against the roof's edge, a sudden jerk against his outstretched arm told him he had checked Dylara's fall.
A heavy sandal thudded home against his ribs, nearly rolling him into the void and to death on the packed earth below. Before the swinging foot could strike home a second time, Tharn was on his feet and Dylara was swung back to safety of the roof.
As Tharn released the girl, the screaming, clawing figure of his enemy closed upon him. In the faint light, Tharn saw the other's hair was a silvery white and beneath it was a face once gentle but now transformed into the mask of a madman.
A grimsmile touched Tharn's lips as one of his brawny arms snaked out and caught the raving beast that had once been Vokal, third most powerful and influential figure in all Ammad. With almost casual ease Tharn swung the human form high above his head, then tossed him, a screaming missile of terror, to the ground below.
A long eerie wailing cry ended suddenly and the thud of flesh against earth seemed to jar into silence the tumult filling the grounds of the late Vokal's palace. In the light of the still burning torches Vokal's lifeless body was clearly visible to the palace defenders.
In that hushed moment, Jotan took advantage of the miracle that had saved the remnants of his fighting force.
"Vokal is dead!" he shouted. "Vokal the traitor is no more! Lay down your arms, warriors of the dead Vokal! Lay down your arms that you may win forgiveness from Jaltor, king of Ammad!"
A wavering moment of indecision followed as the warriors at the palace windows stood with raised weapons hesitating to decide one way or the other. And in that moment a brawny figure appeared at one of the open windows.
"Death to the invader!" shouted Ekbar, captain of the late Vokal's guards. "Avenge the noble Vokal! Kill them all!"
As the last words left his lips a second man appeared beside the captain. Before the latter could realize what was taking place a stone knife flashed in a savage arc, burying its length in his heart.
Ekbar voiced a single scream of anguish and toppled across the sill and to the ground beneath, dead beside the master he had so faithfully served.
While from that same window ayoung warrior of that same dead master smiled with grim satisfaction. Otar had made sure his bride, the lovely Marua, would never again be visited by her former suitor.
With Ekbar died the last of all resistance against Jotan's invading warriors. Scores of weapons fell uselessly to the ground and the palace defenders began to stream from the building, their hands lifted in surrender.
And it was then that a quiet voice from behind Jotan and his father said:
"Are the pits of Jaltor so shallow that they may not hold my enemies?"
The nobleman and his son wheeled about, then stiffened to rigid attention at sight of Jaltor, king of Ammad, standing at the forefront of a squad of his own guards.
Dawnhad come an hour before but the group of seven people sat about the breakfast table in the private dining room of Jaltor, ruler of Ammad.
It was a wide, richly furnished room on the top floor of the city's palace. The east wall was composed entirely of windows, barred by fluted, slender columns of white stone, through which streamed the bright rays of morning sun.
"Had you delayed your escape from the pits another two hours," Jaltor was saying, "all of you would have been freed without having to fight for proof of your innocence. For old Heglar's mate, the beautiful Rhoa, had been followed to Vokal's palace, and when she left there, my men picked her up and brought her to me at the palace. Strangely enough she was not at all hesitant about betraying Vokal; I think she believed he was trying to get out of taking her as his mate."
"Then instead of helping," Alurna said, smiling, "I nearly brought about Jotan's death. That should be a lesson to me not to mix in another's affairs!"
Jotan smiled at her briefly, then went back to his apparently careful examination of the earthen plate in front of him. Ever since he had seated himself across the table from Dylara and the broad-shouldered young cave man next to her he had little to say. But in his mind there was a welter of conflicting thoughts and emotions.
Fate had thrown the girl he loved into the arms of the man who long ago had claimed her as his mate. The fortunes of war had made that same man Jotan's ally during the night just past. Could Jotan, then, turn against his ally because he too loved the girl whom Jotan desired above all others?
He stole a glance at the radiant young woman who held his heart in the hollow of one slender hand. How lovely she was! And how closely she leaned toward the young giant of the caves who sat beside her. Her smiles were for the man of her own kind; as the minutes passed they seemed more and more to belong to each other.
Well, it was up to Dylara now. Soon she would be called upon to make a decision: to accompany the cave man back across the vast expanse of plain and forest and mountain range to the caves of his people ... or to remain within Ammad as the mate of Jotan, nobleman of Ammad.
Beside Jotan, no less lovely in a completely different physical appearance, was Alurna of Sephar, daughter of one king and niece of another. Often her eyes strayed to the handsome young nobleman next to her. She saw his eyes go to the girl of the caves and back to his plate again as a wave of color poured up into his cheeks. She knew what was going on in his mind—knew it as if he had spoken the words aloud! The next few hours would decide what her future life would be: Jotan's mate ora woman who had lost her bid for happiness.
In all that room, perhaps, only two men did not feel the cross currents of emotions that seemed to make electric the very air about them. One missed it entirely because he was very young and interested in only one person—that was Trakor. The other was Tharn; and while he understood what lay behind Jotan's studied preoccupation, he was indifferent to it. Dylara belonged to him—and though an entire nation might stand between them, he would claim her for his own.
As for Dylara, she smiled warmly at everyone and said little. For she too was waiting—waiting with the serenity of one whose mind is made up as to the course her life would take.
"All of you are weary," Jaltor said finally. "I suggest slaves show you to the quarters I have set aside for those of you who wish to remain as my guests."
His eyes went to the three cave people questioningly. There was a moment of weighted silence ... and into it Tharn said:
"Dylara, Trakor and I are far from the caves of our people. I, for one, am anxious to start back. Perhaps we will sleep until tomorrow's sun—then begin our journey."
As he finished speaking, his eyes came to rest upon the cave girl.
A breathlesshush seemed to settle over the room. The moment had come—and Tharn had so phrased his words that the daughter of Majok now held the key to the hopes of two men ... and the choice was hers, without pressure from either of those two.
Jotan's head came up and his eyes met the brown, sun-flecked gaze of the cave girl. A deep, chest-swelling breath filled his lungs....
"I am not tired," Dylara said calmly. "I would like to start for your caves at once, Tharn."
And with those words, and the lifting of her hand as she placed it on the cave lord's bronzed forearm, Dylara made her choice.
Pain—the awful pain of unrequited love—rose like flames in Jotan's heart. Rose until they shook him with agony ... swelled ... and broke to settle back under the man's iron control.
He was conscious, then, that a soft hand had placed itself on one of his as it lay palm down against the table. He looked down at it, not understanding, then lifted his eyes slowly to meet the troubled eyes of Alurna....
Jotan said, "I had hoped that you three would remain in Ammad for a few suns as the guests of my father and me. But I can understand your eagerness to return to your own people."
Dyta, the sun, stood two hours above the eastern horizon. On a small hillock a few yards from the edge of dense jungle and forest not far from Ammad's walls, stood a group of Jaltor's warriors flanking the king and his guests.
Silence, broken only by the voices of diurnal jungle, held those on the high bit of ground as they watched the three Cro-Magnons move lightly toward that towering wall of verdure. They moved lightly, eagerly, as though anxious to lose themselves among the riotous vegetation, a familiar world to them.
Jotan, watching, felt a strange peace come into his heart. Only now did realization come that at no time during the past moons since Dylara had come into his life did he have the slightest chance to win her love. He stole a quick glance at the girl beside him. Here was the perfect mate for a nobleman—his own kind, fit to take up the duties of mate to one of his own high station. Yes, he told himself, it was better this way.
His eyes went back to the three nowalmost within the jungle's reach. The girl turned back and waved her hand in farewell, joined by the lifted arms of Trakor and Tharn.
Abruptly a mist seemed to form before Jotan's eyes and he bowed his head, blinking rapidly to dispel this evidence of unmanly weakness.
When he looked up again only the empty distance met his eyes.
TRANSCRIBERS NOTES:Minor errors in text amended as follows:Part I, page 42: Neels > Neela: 'Neela, the zebra'.Part I, page 46: along > alone: 'required courage to venture alone into the forest'.Part I, page 50: squarly > squarely: 'struck the infuriated boy squarely in the face'.Part I, page 51: bobing > bobbing: 'weaving, bobbing sensation'.Part I, page 52: largly > largely: 'anger was largely responsible'. . > ,: 'I have never slept in a tree," he laughed uncertainly'.Part I, page 53: discernable > discernible: 'faintly discernible'.Part I, page 55: . > ,: 'fifty men there, some of them tending'.Part I, page 56: inserted ,: '"Sadu is hungry too," one of the girls observed'.Part I, page 57: inserted .: 'sound of Sadu's roar.'Part I, page 58: inserted - after Be: 'God-Whose-Name-May-Not-Be-Spoken-Aloud'.Part I, page 60: occured > occurred: 'then there occurred'. mightly > mighty: 'rose in a mighty leap'. sewing > sowing: 'sowing death among the ranks'. Jaton's > Jotan's: 'Jotan's rescue'.Part I, page 61: affect > effect: 'beginning to take effect on the disorganised warriors'. casualities > casualties: 'result in further casualties'. ' > ": 'into those shadows"'.Part I, page 62: inserted ": '"When morning comes'.Part II, page 67: brough > brought: 'the hours brought a fresh flood of curses'. inserted .: 'to his lips.' inserted .: 'Here.'Part II, page 68: inserted .: 'in his movements and expression.' inserted .: 'bring us wine.'Part II, page 69: inserted - after May: 'God-Whose-Name-May-Not-Be-Spoken-Aloud'.Part II, page 73: continous > continuous: 'in one continuous motion.'Part II, page 74: removed duplicate .: 'in his direction.'Part II, page 76: hundreth > hundredth: 'for the hundredth time'.Part II, page 78: 'Trakor admitted sheepishly. "But I heard' > 'Trakor admitted sheepishly, "but I heard'.Part II, page 79, 110 and 111: '- - -' in text changed to '----'.Part II, page 80: Rokut's > Bokut's: 'He closed the door on Bokut's unrelieved expression'. sandles > sandals: 'strings of his sandals'.Part II, page 81: startingly > startlingly: 'almost startlingly handsome'.Part II, page 83: inserted ,: 'glazed with pain, his'.Part II, page 84: . > ?: 'faded blue eyes?'. inserted ": '"And if I persist'.Part II, page 90: inprints > imprints: 'imprints left by its feet.' speciman > specimen: 'specimen of perfect manhood'. worshipping > worshiping: 'hero-worshiping'.Part II, page 91: marvelling > marveling: 'marveling at the change'.Part II, page 94: inserted his: 'face with his own sleeping furs'.Part II, page 95: inserted .: 'digested this information quickly.'Part II, page 97: . > ?: 'But do you have the right to sacrifice the lives of the rest of us in a quest that is completely hopeless?'Part II, page 99: inserted .: 'this time toward home.' trodding > treading: 'treading on snakes'.Part II, page 100: worshipping > worshiping: 'his worshiping companion'.Part II, page 103: wais > waist: 'waist-high'.Part II, page 105: cacaphony > cacophony: 'the cacophony of roars'.Part II, page 106: inserted it: 'what is it, Tharn?'Part II, page 107: inserted .: 'chattering of many voices.' sinous > sinuous: 'long sinuous limb'.Part II, page 108: thrist > thirst: 'pangs of thirst'.Part II, page 109: contructed > constructed: 'the hut was constructed'. nut > hut: 'this hut was practically ringed with patrolling sentries'. inserted ,: 'once it gave, the structure'.Part II, page 110: sickenly > sickeningly: 'hut lurched sickeningly,'.Part III, page 98: marvelling > marveling: 'marveling at her beauty'.Part III, page 99: forcast > forecast: 'the storm Tharn had forecast,'. excitment > excitement: 'it was the only excitement'.Part III, page 102: marvelled > marveled: 'she marveled at how little'. then > there: 'Here and there'.Part III, page 103: an > any: 'at any moment'.Part III, page 104: Trakors > Trakor's: 'in Trakor's heart.' wariors > warriors: 'traders, warriors,'.Part III, page 105: Ammad' to Ammad's: 'Ammad's noblemen'. boundry > boundary: 'a boundary dispute'.Part III, page 106: boundry > boundary: 'the boundary line'.Part III, page 108: similiar > similar: 'a similar distinction,'. ' > ": 'so easily."' drily > dryly: 'Curzad commented dryly'.Part III, page 109: inserted have: 'Tharn would have unhesitatingly charged'. inpulsive > impulsive: 'the impulsive act'. coud > could: 'he could see'. magnificience > magnificence: 'greater size and magnificence,'. worshipping > worshiping: 'hero-worshiping'.Part III, page 110: this > his: 'about his shoulders'.Part III, page 111: thing > think: 'think I decided'. I"ll > I'll: 'Tell him I'll be out'.Part III, page 112: hestitated > hesitated: 'He hesitated.' forseen > foreseen: 'we had not foreseen,'. speciman > specimen: 'remarkable physical specimen'.Part III, page 113: amendable > amenable: 'make him amenable.' girls > girl: 'about a wild girl of the caves?'Part III, page 114: reconnaisance > reconnaissance: 'general reconnaissance'. retract > retrace: 'retrace his steps'.Part III, page 116: hand-and > hand- and: 'hand- and foot-holds'. threshed > thrashed: 'thrashed and bucked.'Part III, page 117: impromtu > impromptu: 'Dylara's impromptu club,'.Part III, page 119: inserted .: 'face the monarch.'Part III, page 120: inserted - after Whose: 'God-Whose-Name-May-Not-Be-Spoken-Aloud'.Part III, page 121: beastial > bestial: 'the bestial snarls'.Part III, page 122: guage > gauge: 'chance to gauge'.Part III, page 123: inserted .: 'heavy with jungle blooms.'Part III, page 124: . > ,: '"At once, Most-High."' quited > quitted: 'only just quitted.' though > through: 'to peer through.'Part III, page 127: it is > is it: 'Who is it?"'.Part III, page 128: Sephar > Ammad: 'sleeping Ammad'.Part III, page 130: inserted .: 'of the door.' minature > miniature: 'the miniature torch'.Part III, page 131: inserted the: 'at the sound'. occured > occurred: 'what had occurred'.Part III, page 132: than > that: 'corridor that ran past'. coridor > corridor: 'down the corridor a man'. pasing > passing: 'passing others quickly.'Part III, page 133: sizeable > sizable: 'a sizable group'.Part III, page 134: many > few: there are too few men'. level > levels: 'lower three levels'.Part III, page 135: rapidily > rapidly: 'fleeing rapidly'.Part III, page 137: sing > sign: 'sign of life'. excitment > excitement: 'after the excitement'.Part III, page 138 and 139: missle > missilePart III, page 141: weighed > weighted: 'moment of weighted silence'. preocupation > preoccupation: 'Jotan's studied preoccupation,'. sunflecked > sun-flecked. and > had: 'a soft hand had placed itself'.All dialogue has closing quotation marks regardless of whether it continues on the subsequent paragraph.
TRANSCRIBERS NOTES:
Minor errors in text amended as follows:
All dialogue has closing quotation marks regardless of whether it continues on the subsequent paragraph.