Jotan shuddered slightly. He could well imagine Jaltor's
reaction upon learning that the daughter of his dead brother had been
spurned in favor of a half-wild woman of the caves!

And then the lithe, softly curved body of Dylara came unbidden before
his mind's eye ... and all else was forgotten. He rose stiffly from
where he sat among his friends, conscious from their expressions that
they knew he had arrived at a decision affecting them all.

"When the dawn comes," he said in a strangely toneless voice, "we break
camp and continue on toward Ammad. Not all of us will go on, however. A
few warriors shall accompany me in search of Dylara ... and I shall not
return without her!"

[Illustration: Hers was the beauty famous across half a world]

CHAPTER IV

THE SEEDS OF TREACHERY

[Illustration]

Otar, a warrior in the service of Vokal, a powerful and high-ranking
nobleman of the city of Ammad, was violently unhappy this night. His
sandaled feet beat an angry rhythm against the pavement in front of the
arched opening in the high stone wall about his master's estate. Thirty
paces one way, an about face executed with the military precision Vokal
demanded of his guards, then thirty paces back again, spear held rigidly
across his tunic-clad chest.

The velvety blackness of a moonless night weighted the street and
matched his mood--a blackness only intensified by the feeble yellow rays
of a lantern in a niche above the gate. Silently he cursed the captain
of the guards who had demoted him to night sentry duty, then he cursed
Vokal for his mad judgment in picking so heartless a captain to begin
with.

There was a sound reason for Otar's unhappiness. Only the day before he
had taken a mate--the incomparable Marua, daughter of one of Vokal's
understewards--Marua, whose exquisite blonde beauty and matchless form
had brought her a host of male admirers, many of them in high positions
in Vokal's service. Among them was Ekbar, captain of the nobleman's
guards; and therein, Otar knew, lay the reason why he was walking a
midnight post outside Vokal's sprawling estate. The thought of his
lovely new mate alone in his snug apartment in the guard's quarters
while he paced away the hours brought a fresh flood of curses to his
lips.

"Greetings," said a hoarse whispering voice behind him.

Otar, startled, whirled and leveled his spear in one rapid motion. "Who
speaks?" he growled.

An indistinct figure, muffled to the ch