The Return of Tharn

by Howard Browne

  CHAPTER XII

  NO DEEPER DUNGEON

  Jaltor, king of all Ammad, rose from his chair as his four visitorsentered the apartment. Straight and tall he stood, his magnificent bodyin its purple-edged tunic seeming to dwarf all else within the room.

  No one spoke. Curzad, captain of the palace guards, closed the doorsoftly and stood with his back against it, arms folded and his ruggedfeatures empty of all expression.

  It was Jotan, son of Garlud, who was the first to speak. The anger thatshowed in his burning eyes and the thrust of his chin thickened hiswords until they were more nearly a growl.

  "What means this, Jaltor? Why was my party intercepted outside Ammad'swalls and dragged here in secrecy? Why are we thus treated like commoncriminals? I demand an explanation!"

  "You may request an explanation, Jotan," Jaltor said calmly. "As Ammad'sking I answer no man's demands."

  In the strained silence following his words, Jaltor's gaze moved on towhere Alurna, daughter of Urim and princess of Sephar, stood staring athim in wonder and uncertainty. His expression softened and when he spokehis voice had lost completely its former edge.

  "Curzad has told me of your father's death. We have both suffered agreat loss, for Urim was my brother--my only brother. Later I shouldlike to know the details of his passing; but first I wish to explain myreasons for what has happened tonight."

  There were mixed emotions evident in the expressions of his listeners.Tamar was clearly worried and puzzled, Javan appeared even more dazedand uncomprehending than usual, while Jotan was close to bursting withoutright anger and injured pride.

  Jaltor indicated chairs with a wave of his hand. "Be seated, please.This may take some time."

  They obeyed in silence, and even though sitting none of them wasrelaxed. Jaltor remained on his feet, legs spread, his keen eyes somber.

  "A little less than half a moon ago," Jaltor began, "an attempt was madeto assassinate me. The reason it was not successful lay in the peculiarclumsiness of the assassin. He was captured immediately and put totorture in an effort to learn the names of others, if any, involved inthe plot. He was an old man, strangely enough, and before he died hetold me who had hired him."

  "I don't see," Jotan burst out, "what this has to do with any of us.Certainly we are not involved."

  "The name he gave," Jaltor went on, as though there had been nointerruption, "was Garlud!"

  In the sudden, shocked silence that followed the measured tread of aguard in the corridor outside came clearly through the closed door.

  "I don't believe it!" Jotan shouted. He leaped from his chair to facethe monarch. "Ever since I can remember you and my father were theclosest of friends!"

  "And long before that Jotan," Jaltor said quietly.

  "Yet because some common killer gave his name, you believe such animpossible story? My father could have no reason for wanting you dead.What have you done to him?"

  * * * * *

  Jaltor ignored the last question. He said in the same quiet voice: "Nota common killer, Jotan. It was old Heglar who so named your father."

  The young Ammadian nobleman fell back a pace in complete amazement. "OldHeglar? Why, he wouldn't...." His voice trailed off.

  "Exactly. Heglar would not lie."

  Jotan lifted a shaking hand to rub his forehead in a kind of dazedhelplessness that struck to the heart of every person in the room. "No,"he said, his voice suddenly loud, "I do not believe it. Where is myfather? Let me talk to him."

  "Where," Jaltor said coldly, "would apt to be any man who plotted thedeath of Ammad's king?"

  Slowly Jotan's hand fell from before his eyes as the meaning of thosechill words came home to him. "You--you _killed_ him? Garlud? My father?Your friend?"

  Nothing altered in Jaltor's sober expression--and in that Jotan read hisanswer. With a strangely inarticulate snarl he launched himself at theking, seeking to lock his fingers in that deeply tanned neck.

  Curzad leaped from his place at the door, brushing past the paralyzedonlookers, and reached out to engulf the crazed young nobleman in hisstrong arms. Jotan, helpless in that iron grip was borne back, tears ofrage and frustration streaming from his eyes.

  Jaltor raised a steady hand to his bruised throat, his expressionunchanged. "Confine him in the pits, Curzad. Later I shall decide whatis to be done with him."

  Tamar started up from his chair in angry protest. "What kind of justiceis this?" he cried. "Will you send a man to his death because griefcauses him to----" He stopped there, stricken into abrupt silence by whathe saw in the ruler's eyes.

  It took the combined efforts of Curzad and two of the corridor guards tosubdue Jotan sufficiently to get him out of the room and on his way tothe pits. When the room was quiet again, Jaltor dropped into an emptychair across from Alurna and the two young noblemen.

  "Now," he said, "I can tell you the whole story."

  And tell them he did, from start to finish. "So you see," he summed up,"why Jotan must be kept captive. Had I told him the truth nothing wouldhave satisfied him until his father was freed and another method used toforce the real accomplice into the open. When this unknown conspiratorlearns that Jotan's party has returned from Sephar, apparently withoutJotan himself, he is going to be more puzzled than ever. A puzzled manmakes mistakes--which is what we want him to do."

  Alurna shuddered. "But the pits! If they are like the ones beneathSephar, you are punishing terribly two men who are innocent ofwrongdoing."

  "You must understand," Jaltor reminded her, "that the possibility existsthat Garlud is guilty. I have lived long enough to know that ambitioncan drive the noblest of men to ignoble acts. Old Heglar's dying wordscannot be lightly dismissed."

  "You," he continued, nodding to Tamar and Javan, "are free to return toyour homes. Should anyone ask what has happened to the leader of yourparty, tell him that--well, that the lions got him. That will fit inwith what happened during the night that you were attacked by Sadu."

  The two young noblemen rose to leave, greatly relieved by Jaltor'sexplanation, but still concerned. After they were gone, the monarch saidto Alurna:

  "I know you must be worn out from your long journey from Sephar. But sitthere a little longer, if you will, and tell me the circumstances of mybrother's death."

  * * * * *

  It required the better part of an hour for the dark-haired princess torelate what had taken place in Sephar nearly three moons before. Shespoke often of Jotan during the account, and the tenderness in her eyesat mention of his name told Ammad's king more than she realized. Andwhen she told of Dylara's disappearance and the possibility that Saduhad devoured her, Jaltor caught the unconscious satisfaction in hertone.

  For a little while after she had finished, Jaltor sat staringthoughtfully into his wine goblet. Then: "Urim's mistake was to coddlethat rascally high priest. In Ammad the priesthood is no problemat all; we keep them few in numbers and with no power to createunrest. Long ago I put a stop to the Games honoring theGod-Whose-Name-May-Not-Be-Spoken-Aloud.... Perhaps some day I shall finda means of avenging the cowardly assassination of Urim, your father andmy brother."

  He smiled gravely into her eyes. "Do not worry about Jotan, my princess.Soon, I hope, he will be free again and you shall have your chance towin him."

  Alurna's gray-green eyes flashed momentarily ... and then she toosmiled. "Ammad's king is a wise and understanding man," she murmured.

  Jaltor straightened and put down his goblet. "And now I shall show youto the suite of rooms which I ordered made ready for your use. Come."

  * * * * *

  For a long time after the slave woman detailed to serve her had gone,Alurna lay wide-eyed on the soft bed. Moonlight through the room's widewindow formed a solid square on the floor, and in its ghostly radiancethe furnishings seemed shadowy and unreal.

  It was the first bed she had been in for a long, long time and sleepshould have come to her the mo
ment she touched the pillow. But too manythoughts raced through her mind to permit sleep--thoughts jumbled andconfused.

  Ever since Jotan had rejoined the main body of his men after hisunsuccessful search for Dylara, he had been moody and distraught. Thosewarriors who had accompanied him and Tamar on the hunt seemedconfident--out of Jotan's hearing!--that the jungle had gotten her, justas it had claimed the lives of countless others.

  And now that the way was clear to win him, Alurna slipped easily into anew role--a role of silent understanding and ready sympathy. Slowly andunconsciously Jotan had begun to respond to treatment. It might takeseveral moons, she realized, before he would begin to look upon her as adesirable woman in addition to a warmhearted and friendly companion.But she could wait--for many moons if necessary.

  Now the intrigue of some unknown enemy of Jotan's father had given theyoung nobleman new worries. If only there was some way to help him--somemethod by which she might earn his gratitude. Gratitude, she knew, wasan excellent base on which to build romance.

  Somewhere in the bowels of this very building Jotan and his father layin dark, damp cells, put there on the orders of her own uncle. As kingof Ammad and brother of her father he was entitled to her loyalty andrespect. But when it came to the point of choosing between Jaltor andJotan ... there was no doubt in her mind as to her ultimate decision!

  As she lay there on her back, her eyes fixed unseeingly on the ceilingbeams, a plan began to shape itself in her mind--a plan which, asdetails took concrete form, brought a faint smile to her lips.

  And still smiling, Alurna fell asleep....

  * * * * *

  As the Ammadian patrol bore down upon him with leveled spears, Tharn'sblackwood bow seemed to leap into his hands and two arrows flashedacross the intervening space. Two of the warriors toppled and died underthose flint arrow heads, but before the cave lord could release a thirdhe was forced to leap hastily aside to prevent impalement by threethrown spears. So narrow the distance now that his bow was useless, andso he tore his knife from its place at its belt and, with the silentferocity of a charging lion, hurled himself upon the remaining fourguards.

  Two more of the Ammadians collapsed in death, their heads almost severedas polished flint tore into their throats. The remaining pair, uponseeing that and hearing the bestial snarls issuing from that broadchest, drew back sharply, wavering on the verge of outright flight.

  Tharn, sensing their indecision, tensed to renew his charge and put themto rout.

  A cacophony of loud shouts from behind him told of the arrival ofreinforcements. There were eight of them this time, still a good thirtyyards away but fast approaching.

  Instantly Tharn, his knife sweeping high for a thrust, lunged at theremaining two warriors who turned and fled a short distance beforecircling back to join the second group. Tharn stopped, caught up his bowand brought down three more of the enemy as he began a slow withdrawal.Lights were beginning to show from some of the palace windows; at anymoment an arrow from above might strike him down.

  Suddenly a door in the palace wall burst open and a white-tunickedfigure came bounding across the lawn toward him. Tharn's bow was on itsway into position to send an arrow leaping to meet this new attack whena familiar voice called out his name.

  "Trakor!" Tharn shouted, astonished.

  The boy bent while still running and caught up a spear from beside thebody of one of Tharn's victims. Hardly had he reached the cave lord'sside when a third group of palace guards appeared on the scene frombehind them.

  Cut off in two directions by enemies, blocked in another by the palaceitself, Tharn chose the only possible avenue of escape.

  "To the wall!" he shouted, then wheeled and raced across the greenswardwith long flashing strides, Trakor close at his heels.

  Angling in sharply from two directions, the Ammadians sought toovertake them. Several spears were hurled but the distance was toogreat.

  Trakor, seeing the high walls, knew it would be impossible to scale themin the few moments before the Ammadians arrived. But his faith in thecave lord remained unshaken; if a way to freedom could be found, Tharnwould find it!

  * * * * *

  While still a few feet short of the wall, Tharn swerved sharply to theleft, crashed through a thick growth of bushes and paused in front of asmall gate. Even as Trakor was about to point out the futility of tryingto force a way through those stubborn planks, Tharn drew open thebarrier and leaped through.

  Trakor, stricken dumb with astonishment at this new development,followed him into the street as Tharn slammed shut the gate and droppedits bar into place a split second before a heavy shoulder thuddedagainst its opposite side.

  What promised to be at least a breathing space died in its infancy as afull dozen of the white-tunicked fighting men of Vokal's guard appearedat the juncture of streets to their left, and catching sight of them,came tearing along the pavement in their direction.

  "This way," Tharn said, and the two cave men raced into the night.

  For nearly a quarter-hour the two Cro-Magnards fled through the blacklabyrinth of Ammad's streets, twisting and turning to throw off pursuit.Twice they encountered patrols from other estates along their erraticpathway, but an arrow or two from Tharn's deadly bow drove them off.

  Finally the two men slowed to a walk, their feet soundless against thestone surface of a narrow street between two walls in which no gateswere visible. For the moment at least, it appeared their hunters hadlost them, thus giving them a chance to gauge their present position.

  Judging from the way this particular street slanted upward ahead of themthey were on one of Ammad's hills. Further along a huge building loomedagainst the night sky from squarely across their path--a building largerand higher than any they had seen thus far.

  "Dylara is back there," Trakor said abruptly.

  Tharn nodded without looking around. "I know," he said simply. "We mustfind some place to hole up until another night comes. Then I am goingback for her."

  "We were close to getting away--Dylara and I," Trakor said ruefully. "Wewere on the verge of stepping out into the open when I heard the guardsattacking you."

  "You were that close to freedom?" Tharn asked, surprised.

  Briefly Trakor recounted what had taken place in Vokal's palace. When hehad finished, Tharn shook his head in savage disgust. "That makes thesecond time she was almost within arm's reach of me! I suppose by thistime they have her again and she is locked away."

  "Perhaps," Trakor admitted. "When I saw who it was Vokal's guards wereafter, I gave her my knife and she crawled under one of the tables towait for us until we had killed the guards and could come back to gether." He laughed shortly, bitterly. "We _would_ have killed them, Tharn,if so many hadn't come to their aid."

  "It is always thus," the cave lord said philosophically. "Tomorrow nightwe shall try again."

  * * * * *

  While talking, they continued on up the steep rise. Now their way wasblocked by the wall they had glimpsed a few moments before. A narrowroadway skirted its base in two directions, and to the right, severalhundred yards distant, they could make out the faint yellow rays of alantern above a recessed gate.

  "What now?" Trakor asked shortly.

  Tharn shrugged. "A tree with foliage so thick none can see us. Judgingfrom the size of the building beyond this wall, its grounds shouldcontain many trees. Let us enter and see if we can find one large enoughfor our purpose."

  Trakor glanced doubtfully up at the wall's edge fully fifteen feet fromthe ground. "Do we go over it or through one of the gates?"

  "Over it. We dare not risk arousing the guards."

  "How can we reach its top?"

  In answer Tharn took up a position with his back only an inch or twofrom the wall. Cupping his hands together in front of him, he bent hisknees slightly, keeping his back straight. "Extend your arms above yourhead," he directed, "and place your right foot in my h
ands, crouching alittle while I support your weight. That way I can toss you high enoughto enable your hands to catch the wall's edge."

  Trakor nodded, a shade doubtfully, and followed directions. Like astriking snake Tharn uncoiled his bent legs with a sharp upward thrust,at the same instant jerking his locked hands up to chest level.

  The youth shot upward like an arrow from a bow. Tharn heard a dull thud,followed by a low exclamation of pain. He looked up to see Trakorsitting astride the wall rubbing one of his shins.

  At Tharn's instructions, Trakor lay chest down against the wall's topand extended his right hand downward. The cave lord backed away, thenran forward and leaped high, catching Trakor's fingers and swinginglightly up beside him.

  There were trees--many of them--singly and in groups, their branchesheavy with leaves. The grounds in which they stood were immense, withwinding paths of crushed stone, winding between bushes heavy with jungleblooms. Here and there concealed jets flung graceful and shimmeringcurtains of water skyward, the falling drops pattering musically intostone-lined pools. In the distance loomed the gleaming white walls of apalace that, Tharn realized, was easily three times the size of any hehad seen in Sephar.

  Lightly the two men dropped to the closely clipped grass. Tharn wouldhave liked to remain aloft for a minute or two, to drink in the beautyof the scene and to get some idea of just where within Ammad they were.But should some sleepless Ammadian be standing at a window in thatpalace, he could hardly keep from seeing those two figures atop thewall.

  Side by side the two cave men strode lightly toward a cluster of eighttrees arranged in a small circle.

  While from the depths of a thicket of bushes bordering one of the gardenpools a pair of eyes watched them in startled wonder.

  * * * * *

  Dylara crouched beneath a table in Vokal's kitchen and listened to thatnobleman's strident voice as it lashed at a group of palace guardsoutside the half open door.

  "Do you expect me to believe," he said hotly, "that a single warriorcould slay seven of you? Were their muscles turned to water at sight ofhim? And the rest of you--are you soldiers or children to be so easilyoutwitted?"

  No one attempted a reply. Ekbar, captain of the guards, stood stifflyby, beads of nervous perspiration dotting his forehead. His turn wouldcome once Vokal was through with the guards themselves. He would befortunate indeed to escape with no more than a tongue-lashing; he mightwell end up being demoted in rank.

  "Who was this man?" Vokal demanded. "Did any of you recognize him? Speakup, before I order your tongues cut out with your own knives! You!" Hepointed a finger at one of the men. "I understand you were one of thosewho first saw him. Who was he?"

  The designated man, his trembling voice matching the shaking of hisknees, said hurriedly, "He was like no warrior I have seen in all Ammad,Most-High. He was very tall, with great rippling muscles that----"

  "Enough!" Vokal shouted. "I might have known you would claim no ordinaryman could best the lot of you. And, I suppose, at least fifty more ofthese huge strangers fell upon you?"

  "No, Most-High," the warrior admitted. "But there was one more, notquite so large as the first. He came from within the palace to join hisfriend and the two of them ran----"

  "Wait!" the nobleman said sharply. "Are you sure this second man camefrom _inside_ the palace?"

  "Yes, Most-High." He pointed an unsteady hand at the door leading to thepalace kitchen. "He came from there. With my own eye I----"

  "Enough!" Vokal wheeled toward the captain of his guard. "Ekbar, send adetail to comb every room of the palace. There may be more of thesestrange intruders in there."

  "At once, Most-High."

  Dylara, listening from her place of concealment within the kitchen, knewshe dared stay there no longer. A moment from now the room would beswarming with armed men and she was sure to be found. It was unfortunateshe could not have accompanied Trakor when he raced out to Tharn'sassistance, but she had known then, as now, that she would only haveslowed their dash for freedom. With Tharn and Trakor both at libertywithin Ammad's walls, they would eventually find a way to rescue her.

  There was no point, however, in waiting around to be rescued. If shecould make her way beyond Ammad's walls without help, so much thebetter.

  Rising from her hiding place, the stone knife Trakor had given her readyin one sun-tanned fist, she crossed the kitchen with stealthy swiftnessand hurried along the short hall leading to the palace dining hall.

  It proved to be empty of life, although she could hear the sounds ofsandaled feet entering the room she had only just quitted. Quickly shecrossed the huge chamber, carefully drew open the same door she andTrakor had passed through a short time earlier, and raced lightly backup the stairs there to the building's second floor.

  * * * * *

  At the landing, she stopped and pressed an ear against the planks of thecorridor door. She could hear no sound from beyond them to indicatesomeone was there. Carefully, inch by inch, she drew it inward untilthere was space enough for her to peer through.

  Not ten feet away from her were the broad backs of two guards!

  Despite the pounding of her heart and the almost uncontrollable effortsof her feet to break into instant flight, Dylara very slowly allowed theheavy door to return to its closed position. Then she was away, racingupward on the balls of her feet, silent as the shadow of a shadow.

  She did not even pause at the third landing, for her quick ears caughtthe tread of feet beyond its closed door. At the fourth level the stairsended at the corridor itself, with no door to mask them.

  Fortunately the long hallway was deserted. Dylara turned to her rightand hurried along, ears and eyes alert for the first sign that she wasnot alone. Past a score of doors and around several corners the corridorled and in all that time she encountered no one.

  It seemed very still here on the fourth level of Vokal's palace. Thealmost eerie silence seemed to press down upon her spirits like someweighty and invisible hand. She could hear her heart pounding and thewhisper of her breathing. The floor underfoot was now covered with athick carpeting of some woven material and her sandals pressedsoundlessly into it.

  She had reached a point only a few yards from another bend in the hallahead of her when she caught the faint sound of voices in thatdirection--voices which seemed to be growing louder.

  Instantly she whirled to retrace her steps, then halted again. It was along way back to where the corridor had last jogged; the owners of thosevoices might come into view before she could reach it.

  There was a door in one wall almost even with where she stood now. Itmight open onto a room filled with guards, or it might not open at all.There was no time to weigh her chances.

  She released the latch and pushed lightly against the wood.

  She came into a large, low-ceilinged room, lighted by candles inbeautifully carved wooden brackets affixed to the walls. Polished tablesand luxuriously covered chairs stood about the carpeted floor. A doorstood slightly open in one of the side walls, disclosing the foot of awide bed, the covers rumpled as though some one had been sleeping theremoments before. Several windows open and unbarred, permitted a panoramicview of a large section of Ammad, and one of them came all the way downto the floor to permit entry to a small balcony.

  As Dylara stood there, drinking in the beauty of the room, voicessounded suddenly loud and clear from just outside the door. A momentlater the latch moved under an unseen hand and the door itself swungwide. But even as the latch moved, Dylara was across the room, throughthe balcony entrance and crouching there, out of sight.

  "... one, then call me immediately."

  "As the noble Vokal commands."

  The silver-haired nobleman closed the door, muttered something under hisbreath, and crossed to where an earthen jug of wine stood on one of thetables. He filled a goblet to the brim, drained it with a flourish, blewout all but one of the candles and went into the bedroom.

 
; Dylara swallowed her heart back to its usual place and straightenedslowly to ease cramped muscles. Give the Ammadian an hour to fall into adeep sleep and to allow the palace inhabitants to return to their beds,and she could make a second attempt to get away.

  The minutes passed with almost painful deliberateness. So complete wasthe silence here that she could hear the sounds of even breathing fromthe bedroom. It was the breathing of a man who was sleeping soundly; afew minutes more and she would make her bid for freedom.

  Knuckles pounded sharply on the apartment door.

  * * * * *

  As Tharn and Trakor were on the point of swinging into one of the halfcircle of trees, a crepitant rustle among the nearby bushes broughttheir heads sharply around in instant alarm.

  Six stern-faced guards in spotless tunics stood less than a dozen feetaway, spears leveled at the broad chests of the two Cro-Magnards. Atsight of those weapons Tharn's hand dropped from the hilt of his knifeand utter chagrin filled his heart.

  He felt Trakor stiffen beside him and he put out a restraining hand. "Itis useless," he muttered. "The slightest move and they will cut usdown."

  One of the six stepped forward a few paces and peered at the twointruders. "Who are you," he demanded, "and what are you doing on thegrounds of Jaltor, king of Ammad?"

  "We are men of Sephar," Tharn said, following the first line of thoughtthat popped into his head. "We came to Ammad with Jotan's party and werelooking over the palace grounds. There is nothing so fine in all Sephar,let me tell you!"

  It was a wild, almost incredible shot into complete supposition. It waspossible that Jotan and his men _had_ reached Ammad by this time; and,while less possible, it was conceivable that the young nobleman had comestraight to the palace to pay his respects to Jaltor, instead ofpostponing the visit until the following day.

  What Tharn did not know, of course, was that Jotan's entire party hadbeen met outside Ammad's gates by a force of Jaltor's own guard andbrought directly to the palace and were being held there until the kinggot around to ordering their release.

  The officer in charge of this patrol knew all that--as did most of thepalace guard. He looked searchingly at the two men for a moment, thensaid:

  "You are lying! Every member of Jotan's party is already under guard.Come with us; we shall allow Curzad to hear your story."

  He made a small motion with his hand and instantly Tharn and Trakor weresurrounded by a ring of spear points. Side by side the two cave menstrode toward the palace, helpless to resist.

  Within the huge building they were led to a guard room on the firstfloor, and after a few minutes the tall, broad-shouldered figure ofJaltor's captain, sharp-eyed and alert, entered the room.

  He listened to the officer repeat what Tharn had said outside, then ranhis gaze slowly over the two men.

  "You are not warriors of Sephar," he growled. "You are not evenAmmadians. I have seen your kind before. What are two cave men doinginside Ammad?"

  Tharn shrugged but said nothing. Trakor, observing his reaction,followed his lead.

  "Perhaps a few days in the pits will loosen your tongues!" Curzad saidharshly.

  Still no reply.

  "As you wish." Curzad turned away indifferently. "To the deepest pitswith them, Atkor," he said to the officer. "After a few suns I will seethem again to learn if they feel more talkative."

  * * * * *

  Just how many downward sloping ramps they trod on the way to the pitsTharn had no way of knowing. Further and further below the earth'ssurface they went, their hands bound behind them, while brightly lightedsubterranean corridors gave way to others only faintly illuminated.Finally even the faint light disappeared and they moved, heavilyguarded, through blackness relieved only by flames from a torch carriedby one of the guards. There was the clearly audible trickling of wateralong the stone walls and several times Tharn felt his feet sink to theankles in cold pools that had formed in hollows of the stone flooring.

  At last the wearying procession of sloping ramps ceased and they movedalong a level corridor. On either side Tharn made out heavy wooden doorswith apertures in their surfaces closed off by columns of stone in theform of bars. Now and then light from the torch picked out white,heavily bearded faces containing white-ringed eyes and expressions ofdull hopelessness. Not once, however, did he hear sounds from thethroats of those prisoners--only the mute despair of lost souls peeringinto nothingness.

  Finally the officer ordered a halt. At his command two of the doors,almost directly across from each other, were opened. Tharn felt the coldtouch of flint as a knife cut away his bonds, a strong hand thrust himroughly into the cell on the right and the door banged shut behind him.

  He turned back and looked out through the bars, to see Trakor, head heldproudly erect, shoved into the opposite room. Bars at the top and bottomof each door were drawn into place, a sharp order rang out and theAmmadian guards started back for the surface.

  "Curzad said 'to the deepest pits!'" one of them chuckled. "There are nodeeper dungeons than those!"