ble
Garlud?"

"As well as in the days he walked Ammad's streets a free man," the
captain said in his deep calm voice. "As an old fighting-man, hardship
affects him but little."

"Perhaps his cell is too comfortable," Jaltor said, his lips twitching
slightly.

"There are no comfortable cells beneath your palace, Most-High. Garlud's
least of all. He sits alone and in utter darkness, the only sounds the
scurrying feet and squeaking voices of rats. Only the strong mind of a
great warrior can endure such for very long without cracking."

"Are you suggesting I am too harsh with him?" Jaltor was openly smiling
now.

"I am suggesting nothing to Ammad's king."

"It has been eleven suns since I sent my closest friend to languish in
those pits," Jaltor said, smiling no longer. "Nor has it been easy for
me, Curzad. But I must learn who, if not Garlud, was behind old Heglar's
attempt on my life."

He tossed off the wine and put his goblet down on the table top.
"Something happened today," he said, "that may be the first crack in
this eleven-sun wall of silence. One of Ammad's noblemen brought up
Garlud's name to me during the afternoon audience."

* * * * *

Some of the impassiveness in Curzad's expression slipped a little and
his fingers whitened on the goblet's stem. He made a sound deep within
his massive chest but said nothing.

"It may mean nothing, however," Jaltor went on, "for the way in which it
came up was both necessary and natural. To make it even more likely to
amount to nothing, the nobleman was Vokal--a man I have never hesitated
to trust."

"Garlud once enjoyed a similar distinction," Curzad commented dryly.

Jaltor's eyes flashed. "Do you forget that Garlud was named by a man
whose word had never been doubted?"

"I forget nothing, Most-High," was the quiet reply.

A moment's silence followed, then Jaltor said, "Well, a few more days,
one way or the other, will not matter. If Vokal is the man we are
looking for, he will make another attempt at learning Garlud's
whereabouts. So far he is our only lead--other than old Heglar's
beautiful mate, Rhoa. Twice she has come to me, asking what has happened
to him, and both times I have refused to say. Oddly enough," he added
thoughtfully, "she seemed more curious than worried."

"Perhaps it would be wise to have her watched."

The monarch gave a brief snort of laughter. "I am not completely a fool,
my friend. Rhoa has been u