,
so that Sitab was unable to make out the features. But something was
familiar about the man's general build and the shape of his head, and
for several minutes Sitab stood there waiting for the man to stir in his
sleep sufficiently for his face to be seen.

When full five minutes had passed without this taking place, Sitab broke
a small piece of the rotting wood from his torch and flipped it
unerringly through the barred grating of the door. It struck lightly
against the bare arm of the sleeper, and he sighed heavily, stirred,
then turned his face toward the light.

Sitab stiffened, waiting for the man to awake and cry out in alarm at
the glare of the torch. But the eyes did not open and the prisoner
lapsed back into complete slumber. Only then did Sitab see who lay
sleeping there.

It was Jotan.

* * * * *

A slight gasp escaped the guard's lips. Jotan _here_! But Jotan was
dead! Vokal himself had said as much.

Sitab smiled. No matter that Vokal had been misinformed; Jotan would be
dead within seconds. Vokal would reward him well for killing both Jotan
_and_ Garlud--if the latter were imprisoned here as well.

How best to kill him? Open the door, creep to the side of the sleeping
man and plunge the spearhead into his heart? That would be the quietest
way ... and also the most dangerous. What if Jotan were in reality
awake--lying there waiting for this unknown visitor to enter the cell,
then jumping upon him in a bid for freedom.

A glance at those muscles, even though apparently relaxed in sleep, was
enough to give him his decision. Lifting his spear, he thrust its point
between the bars of the door, aimed it squarely at Jotan's exposed
chest--and tensed his muscles to launch the heavy weapon.

CHAPTER XIV

AMBUSH

For a long time after Sitab was gone, Vokal remained seated on a low
bench in the living room of his apartment. Worry was crowding in on his
mind, the ambition that had led him into discrediting Garlud was proving
itself a curse, and his love for Rhoa, wife of old Heglar, was now a
burdensome thing that had cost him a thousand tals and might end up
costing him his life.

Well, the die was cast now; there was no turning back. Dawn was no more
than two or three hours away; long before Dyta's golden rays flooded
Ammad's streets Sitab should have returned with word that Heglar and
Garlud were dead. Everything depended on that now--it was still not too
lat