of relief was clearly audible. "Good!" He went to the door
and drew the bar. "Hide your face so that none may know who you are.
Goodbye."

He drew open the heavy door and the woman, her face concealed by the
folds of her heavy cloak, swept regally through, past the staring guard
and a short, barrel-chested man in the tunic of a guard of Jaltor's
court.

Vokal, his handsome face completely without expression, crooked a finger
at the latter. "Enter, my friend," he said cordially. "You have arrived
at exactly the right time."

* * * * *

Shortly after arriving at the palace of his father, following the
surprising interview with Jaltor, ruler of Ammad, Tamar had gone to his
room and his bed.

But not to sleep. His thoughts were of his friend Jotan and the trouble
that had befallen the young Ammadian noble. Tamar never doubted Garlud's
innocence and he longed to take some action that would clear both father
and son. In keeping with Jaltor's instructions he had told his own
father nothing of what had taken place, letting him think Jotan had died
beneath the claws and fangs of Sadu, the lion.

After more than two hours of fitful tossing, Tamar rose from his bed and
entered the living room of his suite. He was standing at one of the
windows overlooking sleeping Ammad, when a discreet knock at the door
startled him out of his reverie.

"Who is there?" he called.

"The corridor guard," said an apologetic voice. "A young woman wishes to
speak with you, noble Tamar. Upon an urgent matter, she says."

Tamar crossed the room quickly and unbarred the door. Beyond the
stalwart figure of the guard was the softly curved form of a woman whose
hair was very black and who, despite the folds of a cloak held to shadow
her face, seemed young and beautiful....

"Alurna!" Tamar gasped incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

She shook her head warningly, entered and waited until Tamar had closed
the door. The nobleman helped her remove the cloak and she sank down on
a nearby stool.

"I thought you would be sleeping," she said, smiling a little.

Trouble clouded his fine eyes. "I could not sleep," he said huskily. "I
tried. But I keep thinking...."

"Of Jotan," the girl finished. "And his father. We must help them,
Tamar. We must not leave them to rot in the pits of Ammad."

"But what can we do?"

"Do you know how to reach the pits without being seen?"

He stared at her. "What difference woul