red
them on, his calmness gone, his eyes wild, fear riding him hard. He
alone of them all knew what it would mean for him were this girl to
escape and find her way to Jaltor with the knowledge she had gained
while lurking on the balcony outside his private suite.

He was standing now in a room on the first floor, giving directions to
Ekbar, captain of his guards, when one of the warriors pushed through
the crowded room, a stranger at his heels.

"Your pardon, Most-High," said the guard, "but this man came to our
gates a moment ago and demanded to see you. He says he has important
information that is for your ears alone."

Vokal, turning to order the man aside, stopped and stared. The stranger
was tall and little more than a skeleton. His hair hung in long strands
to his shoulders and a heavy beard covered his face. Among a race of men
who permitted no hair to mask their countenances, the beard alone made
him worthy of attention.

"Who are you," Vokal snapped, "and what do you want of me?"

"I am Tarsal," croaked the stranger, "once guard in your service. Many
moons ago I fought with one of Jaltor's guards and slew him. Since that
day I have been confined in the pits of Ammad's king."

Ekbar, who had been staring at the man closely while he was speaking,
nodded. "He tells the truth, Most-High. I recognize him now."

"What do you want of me?" Vokal said again, his voice shrill with
impatience.

"I came to warn you," Tarsal said. "Garlud and Jotan, his son, have
escaped from their cells and have gathered together a small army taken
from Jaltor's pits. They say that it was because of you that Garlud and
Jotan were imprisoned by Jaltor, and they are coming to capture you and
take you before the king."

The nobleman's skin turned a dirty white. This was ruin for him! Wildly
he sought to think of some way by which he could escape Jaltor's wrath,
once the truth came out.

"What are the plans of this mob?" he demanded. "Do they expect to win
Jaltor's support in the fight against me?"

"Not that I know of, Most-High. They spoke of stealing from the palace
and marching here to take you captive and bring you before Ammad's king
that he may hear the truth from your own lips."

Vokal's brain was working with cold precision. There was a way out,
then! Were he and his warriors able to ambush this gang of prison rats,
able to wipe them out to the last man, there would be none left alive to
tell Jaltor what they had hoped