The Return of Tharn Part 36

Soundlessly he left his stone bench and moved to the door. But the darkness was such that even his unbelievably sharp eyes were helpless to penetrate it. But if his eyes were useless, his ears were not. Fifty feet further down the corridor a man was standing; he could hear his breathing and the rustle of garments. A few seconds later Tharn's eyes caught a tiny glow of light--a glow that soon swelled to a flickering light strong enough for him to see the opposite row of barred cell doors.

Again came the whisper of sandaled feet. Presently an Ammadian guard came into view, a heavy spear in one hand, a small torch of flaming wood in the other. The guard was peering into each of the cells across from Tharn, pausing at length at some, pa.s.sing others quickly. Tharn wondered at the man's attempt at stealth; since it was impossible for any of the prisoners to get at him, such precautions could serve no evident ends.

When the man reached a cell almost exactly across from Tharn, the cave man saw him toss something through the opening framing the bars. He heard the unseen prisoner sigh ... and then the guard raised his spear and inserted its head through the same opening.

Tharn was on the point of crying out a warning, his reason dictated only by a desire to thwart as far as possible the hated symbol of authority represented by this white-tunicked a.s.sa.s.sin. But in that moment he saw a second figure steal into the outer periphery of light thrown by the torch--a figure of a man whom Tharn recognized instantly as one of those who had accompanied Jotan on his search for Dylara a few days before.

As the arm holding the spear tensed to send it plunging into the unseen prisoner, the newcomer leaped cat-like upon the would-be a.s.sa.s.sin. There was a startled cry that echoed along the subterranean hall and the two men became a squirming knot of arms and legs.

And then abruptly the thres.h.i.+ng figures were still as the second man pressed the blade of a flint knife against the other's thinly clad back.

"Not a move," growled Tamar, "or you are a dead man!"

Now a lovely dark-haired girl came into view, her face revealed by the flickering light of the still burning torch lying on the corridor's flooring. As she bent to pick up the bit of blazing wood Tharn recognized her as Urim's daughter, whose life he had saved on a long gone day.

"What were you up to there?" growled Tamar. "Who are you and what----"

"_Tamar!_"

The cry came from behind the barred door from which the young n.o.bleman had just drawn the cringing Sitab. There, framed in the barred opening, was Jotan!

Alurna, a faint cry of happiness on her lips, rushed to the door and removed the heavy bar. Jotan bounded into the narrow hallway, gave Sephar's princess a thankful pat on the back, then turned to Tamar.

"What's going on here? Who is this guard? How did you find me?"

"First," Tamar said, "I'm going to find out why this son of Gubo was about to send a spear into you!"

At Jotan's blank expression, Tamar explained what had been about to happen when he and Alurna arrived. Whereupon Jotan took the trembling Sitab by the front of his tunic and shook him until most of his breath was gone.

"Who sent you?" Jotan snarled. "Speak before I strangle you with my bare hands!"

"I dare not tell you! He would kill me!" Sitab cried through chattering teeth.

Again Jotan shook him. "But I will cut you into tiny pieces if you do not tell. First I will cut your toes and fingers from your rotten body, then I will dig out your eyes and chop off your----"

Sitab had fainted.

Three ringing slaps brought the man back to consciousness. In a voice made shrill with terror he gave the name of the man who had sent him.

Tamar and Jotan stared at each other in utter amazement as the name of Vokal fell from those craven lips. Angrily Jotan hurled the shrinking figure from him, Sitab fell headlong against the stone wall and lapsed into a motionless heap of quivering flesh.

Tamar said, "That's all we need! We can go to Jaltor and tell him what this coward has said; then he will free you and your father and put Vokal in your place."

"My father lives?" cried Jotan. "I thought Jaltor had slain him."

Quickly Tamar explained what had actually happened. When he had finished, Jotan said, "Before we do anything else I must find my father.

Help me search these cells, both of you."

"He may not be on this level," Tamar said. "We could spend hours hunting him. The thing to do would be to go to Jaltor----"

But Jotan was already on his way along the corridor, peering in at the occupant of each.

Minutes later there was a sizable group of men freed from the cells and grouped about Jotan and Tamar. Among them was Garlud, Jotan's father, his gaunt face wreathed in smiles, his strength, sapped by long days of imprisonment, flowing back at the realization he was free and in possession of the name of the man who had brought about his downfall.

The others were those members of Jotan's party who had accompanied him from far-off Sephar, released from their brief imprisonment and ready for action.

Tamar said, "And now we can go to Jaltor and tell him what happened!"

"We shall have to take this man"--Jotan pointed to the fallen and unmoving body of Sitab--"to Jaltor as our only witness against Vokal."

Garlud said, "It is hard to believe that Vokal is the one behind all this trouble. We have been friends for many years, all of Ammad loves him, even Jaltor admires him more than almost any n.o.ble of the court."

"He is behind the plot against us, father," Jotan said sharply. "There can be no doubt about it."

"We shall need overwhelming proof."

"Our proof lies there." Jotan waved a hand at the motionless bulk near the wall. "Get him on his feet, somebody; it's time he told his story to Jaltor, king of Ammad!"

Tamar bent above the fallen man and shook him. "Come! You've rested long enough!"

But Sitab did not move and Tamar shook him again, harder this time, and repeated the order. Then suddenly the young n.o.ble was kneeling beside the still form of the guard and placing a hand against the tunic over his heart.

In the silence Tamar rose to his feet and met the stricken eyes of his friends. "He is dead," he said simply.

"There dies our proof," Garlud said 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 n.o.ble, stepping nearer the door of the cell.