Of Vulcar, Brutan and Rotark, Tharn had seen nothing since the battle
began. During momentary lulls he had time to wonder how they were
faring--if, somewhere in this madhouse of fighting, bellowing men, they
were managing to keep their skins whole.

Gradually the palace defenders were weakening, losing heart as their
list of casualties grew. Already, the men of Tharn's party had sensed
victory was slowly but surely passing into their hands.

And then came the unexpected, the one contingency which none of the
rebel leaders had forseen.

A ringing shout sounded from the open doorway, and through the gap came
priests from the temple of Sephar's God. Instead of waiting for the
freedom-hungry prisoners to take their first objective, then march
against the House of God, the cunning arch priest had sent every man he
could muster to reinforce the palace garrison.

There must have been a hundred of them, fresh and--for priests--eager
for battle. They fell upon the revolters from behind, spreading death
and consternation in the thinning ranks of those from Sephar's pits.

Encouraged by aid from this wholly unexpected quarter, the palace
defenders regained their fading morale and renewed the attack with
reckless fury.

The end had come. Bitter was the realization to Tharn who, until now,
had been certain nothing could prevent his men from taking Sephar. He
smarted under the knowledge that wily old Pryak had outwitted them after
all.

He might, under cover of the raging turmoil, have turned his back on
friends and supporters to seek out Dylara's cell and escape with her
from Sephar. But the thought was gone as it was born; and the
Cro-Magnard sought to rally his shaken followers to the task of cutting
a pathway back to the street. Once outside, some of them might manage to
flee into the jungle--a far cry from their ambitious dream of taking
Sephar!

It began to appear, however, that leaving the palace was to be
infinitely more difficult than forcing an entrance had been. Again and
again his men were repulsed by the white-faced but unflinching priests
at the foot of the staircase. Steadily the number of rebels grew less;
and while they took more lives than they gave, there were too many to
outlast.

Suddenly there rose above the pandemonium within, a chorus of savage
cries from outside the open doors. Tharn straightened as though struck
by an unseen spear. His eyes went wide with incredulous astonishment
bordering on