glumly. "Now it is our word against
Vokal's."

"No!" Jotan swung around to face his father and Tamar. "There is another
way. We can go to Vokal's palace, pull him from his bed and force him to
confess!"

"And what of Vokal's loyal guards and warriors?" Garlud said soberly.
"Do you think they will idly stand aside and permit that?"

Jotan swept out his hand in a half circle. "Here are fifty men--stalwart
warriors all. And in your own palace, father, are hundreds more. I say
let us go to our own palace, gather together our warriors and march upon
Vokal!"

"You forget," Garlud said softly, "that I am regarded as an enemy of the
State. As such, my palace and possessions are confiscated and my
warriors stripped of their weapons and confined to quarters."

"Jotan," said a quiet voice from behind them.

* * * * *

The group of men standing about the subterranean corridor beneath the
palace of Jaltor of Ammad, turned as the quiet voice reached their ears.

Standing at the barred opening of one of the locked cells, the strong
handsome face, visible in the light of the late Sitab's torch, was
Tharn, a slight smile on his lips.

"Who calls my name?" demanded the young noble, stepping nearer the door
of the cell.

"It is I--Tharn, son of Tharn, the cave man. Have you forgotten the
times we have met in the past?"

Recognition dawned in Jotan's expression. "Of course! You are the man
who claimed Dylara belonged to you."

"And she still belongs to me," Tharn said quietly.

"She lives?" Even the absence of more than dim light could not hide the
sudden hope flaring in the young nobleman's eyes.

Tharn nodded. "Even now she is held prisoner by the man who has plotted
against you."

Jotan stiffened. "You mean Vokal? How do you know this?"

Tharn, with a few terse words, explained what had taken place at Vokal's
palace only a few short hours before. When he finished, Jotan was ready
to start out for that nobleman's palace, alone if necessary, to rescue
her. But others of the group remonstrated, pointing out the rashness of
such a move. As they stood there arguing the point, Tharn's clear voice
brought them into silence once more.

"There are too few of you to march against Vokal," he pointed out. "But
all around you are men who are no better than dead as long as they
remain behind bars. Free them, arm them with the weapons of the guards
attached to this wing of Jaltor's palace, and they