The Return of Tharn Part 28

A bend in the path was coming up. Already most of the column had made the turn and was out of sight. Quickly Tharn raced ahead until he was at a point no more than ten feet from the turn. Crouching here, concealed by a maze of creepers and brush, he picked up a short length of dead branch and waited.

As the last two Ammadians reached a position directly opposite to the crouching cave lord, Tharn thrust out the branch two or three inches above the path's surface and squarely between the legs of the pack bearer.

The man's swinging foot struck against the unyielding wood and, weighted by the heavy pack and weary from the long hours without rest, he stumbled and fell headlong.

His companion, aroused by the thump of a falling body and a string of curses rising on the night air, turned back and bent to help him up.

"What happened, Posak?"

"What does it look like? Do you think I decided to lie down and rest awhile?"

Still muttering under his breath Posak got shakily to his feet and turned his back on his companion to pick up the heavy pack. When he turned back again, his amazed eyes beheld his friend face down and motionless in the trail and the mightily muscled figure of an almost naked cave man standing over him and holding the torch.

Posak opened his mouth to yell a warning to the others of the column.

The cry was never voiced. An iron fist swept from nowhere to crash full against the point of his chin. There was a sharp brittle sound like a branch breaking and Posak sank lifelessly to the ground, his neck snapped cleanly in two.

Quickly Tharn propped the torch of gumwood against a tree bole and dragged the two corpses into the brush. With rapid care he stripped tunic and sandals from one body and donned them. The tunic he found to be tight across his chest but still adequate; the sandals fitted him perfectly.

So quickly had the cave lord acted that by the time he caught up the torch and rounded the bend in the trail, the end of Ekbar's column was no more than a dozen yards away. No one seemed to be looking back of his shoulder in search of the missing pair, a fact probably explained by the sight of open ground directly ahead.

Blazing torch held high, thus leaving his face shadowed, Tharn moved easily along at the rear of the column of Ammadians, across the ribbon of open ground about Ammad's walls, and on through the city gates.

Vokal awakened under the touch of gentle but insistent fingers against his shoulder. He opened his eyes to find one of his personal slaves, a lighted candle in one hand, bending over him.

"What do you want, Adgal?" he demanded, scowling.

"Ekbar has returned, Most-High," the slave replied, cringing. "I told him you were sleeping but he demanded that I arouse you at once."

The n.o.bleman bounded from the bed and caught up his tunic. "Where is he?"

"In the outer chamber, Most-High."

"Good. Tell him I'll be out immediately."

When Vokal entered the wide living room he found the captain of his guards standing at rigid attention just inside the door. The n.o.bleman, his tunic fresh and unwrinkled, his thick grey hair as smoothly brushed as though this were midday instead of the dead of night, strolled to a nearby table, poured out a single gla.s.s of wine and sank into a chair.

His thin shapely fingers lifted the goblet slowly to his lips, he sipped the liquid as slowly, savoring its bouquet. Finally he put down the goblet and swung his dreamy-eyed gaze to the uncomfortable and self-conscious captain of the guards.

"Well, Ekbar?" he said softly.

"He is dead, Most-High."

"Indeed? You took care of the matter yourself?"

"No, Most-High. He was killed many suns before my men and I came upon his men. Sadu, the lion, slew him."

Vokal stiffened slightly. "How do you know this?"

Ekbar retold, in detail, the story given him by Tykol. For several minutes after he finished Vokal sat there and thought it over while he sipped from his goblet of wine. "... You are sure he was not lying?"

"Yes, Most-High. There were but thirty-seven of them, where once there was fifty, and many wore strips of cloth over wounds left by Sadu's claws. Scouts who knew Jotan by sight reported he was not with the column." He hesitated. "One part of their report I did not understand, however, although it probably is not important."

"Tell it to me."

Ekbar shrugged. "There was a woman with them--a young and very beautiful girl. The scouts say she was very lovely--dark-haired, a pleasing figure and clearly the daughter of some n.o.bleman."

"Why did you not ask this Tykol who she was?"

"I learned about her the following day. By that time Tykol was dead."

Vokal nodded. "The balance of Jotan's men were not aware of being watched?"

"No, Most-High. I took pains to keep that from them. Since Jotan's earlier death was something we had not foreseen, I acted as I thought you would order. Since Jotan is not with them it would be better that they reached Ammad and told of his death under the fangs and claws of Sadu."

"You have acted wisely, Ekbar, and I shall not forget it."

The captain flushed with pleasure. He said, "We did not return empty-handed, n.o.ble Vokal. Two cave people fell into our hands--one of them a beautiful young woman who told us some wild story about being Jotan's intended mate."

At Vokal's look of languid interest, Ekbar repeated the story Dylara had told him.

"And you say," Vokal said when the captain finished, "that this cave girl is very beautiful?"

"There is none in all Ammad who is more lovely," Ekbar said, his deep-set eyes glittering.

"How interesting!" Vokal leaned back in his chair, his long, well-kept fingers toying with the stem of his wine goblet. "Where is she now?"

"Both she and the cave man we captured a little later are under guard in the outer corridor, Most-High. I thought you might wish to look them over before they were placed with the other slaves."

"Bring them in, my good Ekbar," murmured Vokal.

The captain saluted stiffly and withdrew. A moment later he was back again followed by the two captives and a second guard.

For several moments the n.o.bleman let his eyes move slowly over the two cave people. The man, he saw, was, despite his youth, a remarkable physical specimen, extraordinarily handsome and evidently intelligent and keen-witted as so many of the cave dwellers were. With the proper att.i.tude toward his new master it would not be long before he rose to the status of a warrior and an end to his position as slave. Judging from the flas.h.i.+ng eyes and his air of insolent contempt, it would take a few days of iron-fisted discipline, however, to make him amenable. Well, Ekbar was a past master of that art.

The girl, though, was another matter entirely. Ekbar had not exaggerated in naming her more beautiful than any of Ammad's women--including those of n.o.ble birth. Despite her travel-worn tunic and the weariness evident in every line of face and figure, her beauty shone through like Dyta's brilliant rays. A man could lose his heart in that red-gold wealth of softly curling hair falling to her shoulders; he could drown in the depths of those sparkling brown eyes. He smiled a little at these thoughts. What would Rhoa, dark-haired, olive-skinned, beautiful and pa.s.sionate, think if she knew he was having such thoughts about a wild girl of the caves?

Well, Rhoa need not know. Most n.o.blemen had beautiful slave girls and most n.o.blemen's wives ignored the fact....

Dylara bore his steady gaze with calm indifference. The enforced a.s.sociation with the men of Ammad during the past several moons had taught her a great deal about them; that, plus a native shrewdness, told her she could expect little sympathy and no help from this silver-haired, languid-eyed man whose property she now appeared to be.

"Your name, cave girl?"

The soft, almost caressing voice repelled her. There was something ugly and evil behind it--a reflection of the man's true personality.

She met his gaze unflinching. "I am Dylara."