The flame wavered in the faint breeze from the windows. It suddenly had become very quiet in the room.

Jotan drew the flint knife from his belt and began to run the blade back and forth through the candle's flame.

"What are you going to do?" Tamar asked.

The lips of his friend were pressed into a straight line. "He's going to talk. Be ready to listen."

Another minute pa.s.sed. Jotan continued to move the knife blade to and fro in the heart of the fire. Fordak could not tear his eyes from the objects in the man's hands. Great beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead.

"Tie his arms and legs," Jotan said.

Those words seemed to release Fordak's paralyzed muscles. Voicing a wild cry he bounded from the stool and was nearly to the door before Tamar and Javan brought him down. He continued to struggle frantically while they bound lengths of rawhide about his arms and legs. When he was securely tied they dragged him back to the stool.

Jotan said, "Take off one of his sandals."

Fordak yelled in terror and jerked back, almost falling from the stool.

"Stuff something in his mouth before he has half the city here."

Gagged and bound, Fordak was helpless to do more than gurgle and sweat as Javan knelt and bared one of his feet.

"Now," Jotan said grimly, "we'll see what effect this will have in getting information."

With a quick movement he placed the white-hot length of flint firmly against the delicate skin of the instep and held it there.

An eerie, m.u.f.fled scream pushed past the gag in Fordak's mouth. So intense was the note of animal pain that the three men felt their flesh crawl with the sound.

Abruptly the bound guard stiffened, his eyes swam in their sockets, and he fell back in a faint.

Jotan rose and tossed the knife aside. "Get some water," he said. "One treatment like that should be enough."

They removed the gag from the unconscious man's mouth and doused water in his face. After a moment he groaned weakly and opened his eyes.

"Where is Dylara?" Jotan asked, for the third time.

Words came spilling out. "I--I'll tell you. Don't burn me again. I can't stand it. I'll talk. We took her--Meltor and I. Meltor made me help him take her. He said Alurna told him to do it."

"Alurna?" Jotan was astonished. "What had she to do with it?"

"She wanted it done. Meltor said she ordered him to take the girl to the house of Rydob outside Sephar. He was to take her there and kill her, then hide the body so no one would know what had happened to her."

Jotan paled. "Where is this house of Rydob?"

Fordak gave directions. When he had finished, Jotan said: "Tamar, get three or four of our men and meet Javan and me at the Gate of the Setting Sun. Hurry!"

Tamar went out.

"Get our weapons together, Javan," Jotan ordered. "We'll meet the others at the gate."

Javan was slow to comprehend. "Where are we going?"

"Into the jungle," said Jotan evenly. "To the house of Rydob!"

Alurna had slept well during the mid-day heat. When she awakened, her first thought was of Meltor and his errand. Lying there, the room darkened against the blazing sun, she allowed herself to think of Jotan, smiling when she realized he was free, now, to fall in love with her. No longer was there a barbarian slave-girl to blind him to the beauty and charm of Urim's daughter.

After a while she sat up, stretched her soft muscles with all the sleek satisfaction of a jungle cat, and summoned Anela.

The slave-girl was aiding her in effecting a leisurely toilet a little later, when a brief rap sounded at the door.

"That must be Meltor," Alurna said contentedly. "Let him in, Anela."

But when the door was opened, it was another man who stood there, his tunic torn and stained, his broad plump face lined with suffering.

"It's Fordak!" cried Anela.

The man staggered to a stool and dropped onto it, exhausted.

"I came as soon as I could, princess," he babbled. "I came to tell you so you would not punish me. They forced me to tell; they burned me until I told them. I would have come sooner, but the ropes were tight."

Alurna shut him off with a gesture. "What are you trying to tell me?"

she demanded. "_Who_ made you tell _what_?"

"The men from Ammad." Fordak was beginning to gain control over his shaken nerves. "Jotan and Tamar and Javan. They tortured me until I told them where Meltor had taken the slave-girl."

Rapidly he related all that had taken place in the visitors' apartment.

Being no fool, he exaggerated the amount of suffering he had endured; thus might the heart of Alurna be touched with pity.

When Fordak was done, Alurna went to the window and stood there, her back to the others, staring into the grounds below. What was she to do?

Jotan was already on his way to the house of Rydob. If Meltor had wasted no time, Jotan could not possibly arrive soon enough to save Dylara from death.

But would Meltor do his work promptly? There was a cruel streak in the man--the same characteristic that made a leopard toy with a victim for hours before putting an end to its misery. And that girl had been very beautiful....

She turned. "You may go, Fordak."

The man was worried. "I could not keep from telling, princess. They burned--"

"Get out!"

Fordak got unhappily to his feet and limped from the room.

"Quick, Anela!" said the princess. "Get to Vulcar at once. I want five of his most trusted men to meet me at the Gate of the Setting Sun.

Should he ask questions, tell him I will explain later. Go!"

"Where are you going, princess?" the slave-girl asked as she started for the door.