Then came the thought that she might be able to do so without his aid.

Not ungently he lowered her to her feet and signed that she should start down. When Alurna, correctly interpreting his gesture, glanced at the hard earth so far below, she gasped aloud and drew back, trembling.

Mog, sullen and short-tempered at best, did not intend wasting time in coaxing her. Raising a bulky fist, he shook it threateningly under her nose, then once more pointed to the edge of the precipice.

Alurna could not help but feel she preferred death by falling to being mauled by this uncouth beast-man. And so, gritting her teeth and tensing her muscles to control their trembling, she lowered herself over the brink and began the tortuous descent.

Those long agonizing moments which followed were to live forever in the memory of Alurna, princess of Sephar. Slowly, inch by inch, she worked her way downward, feeling in an agony of suspense for footholds where she was confident no such holds existed. At times her entire weight was suspended by her fingers alone, while both feet searched for some projection to which her sandaled foot would cling. She knew, now, it would have been wise to have tossed her sandals down first; her bare feet would have held to the rock with more certainty--but it was too late for that.

Gradually she sank farther and farther from the lip of the escarpment.

She dared not glance above or below; her gaze was glued continuously on the uneven surface over which she was pa.s.sing. Her fingers were raw and bleeding by this time; but she clenched her lip between white teeth and went on.

At last the strain, both to limbs and to nerves, was nearing the breaking point. Alurna knew she could not hold on much longer; if she failed to reach the valley floor soon, she must fall the balance of the way. Then, as the desire to loose her grip, whatever the consequences, seemed too overpowering to resist, her feet came to rest on level ground.

Tired, high-pitched nerves gave way, and Alurna sank to the ground and burst into tears. Had she acted at once, she might have escaped, for Mog was still fifty feet above her.

But she was conscious only of relief from the peril just undergone; and Mog found her huddled in a pitiful heap at the very spot where her feet had first touched solid earth.

Lifting her easily to his wide back, he took up his club from where he had dropped it from above, and moved at a half-trot toward the nearby forest.

While from the depths of a tangled maze of cloaking underbrush, at the very point he was nearing, two baleful yellow eyes were fixed in unblinking attention upon him and the girl he carried!

The morning after Alurna's capture, twenty warriors were a.s.sembled in front of Sephar's palace. It was evident they awaited someone, for their eyes turned often to the great doors.

And then came Vulcar, arms laden with an a.s.sortment of weapons. Rapidly he handed them out to the twenty until each was fully armed. This done he barked out an order and the men formed into ranks, four abreast and five deep.

His hawk-like face set in stern lines, Vulcar faced them. "Warriors of Sephar," he began, "you know what has happened to the daughter of our king. You know, too, that five of your comrades died trying to save her.

Most of you knew and admired Adbor. I saw Adbor die. He died while calling for his weapons, eager to take up the trail of those who had stolen the princess.

"To you goes the honor of avenging your comrades and returning the princess to her father, alive ... or dead."

As the calm voice ceased, a score of right arms shot up and a resounding shout rose from twenty throats.

"Then come," said Vulcar quietly, and turned to lead the way.

But before the men could move to follow him, a deep voice from the palace doorway bade them wait.

Clothed in the simple harness of an ordinary warrior, and fully armed, Urim descended the steps and came up to Vulcar.

"I will go with you," he said simply.

Vulcar had been afraid of this. Urim no longer was a young man; to take him along might cost Sephar a ruler, as well as its favorite daughter.

"O Urim," he said, "may I say a few words to you before we go?...

"My king, trust me and these warriors to find Alurna. They are young and fully trained. For hours they can press onward so rapidly that anyone less hardened would drop behind within an hour. To slacken their speed for one less trained might cost much precious time."

Urim, ready to override any protests, could not help but see the logic of the words. For several moments he stood with bowed head while impulse battled with good judgment.

"Take your men and go without me, my friend," he said at last, his voice unsteady. "I am an old man, and useless. I should only delay you."

He turned and strode back into the palace before the troubled Sepharian could frame a reply.

Ten minutes later the twenty and one entered the trail that led past the scene of Alurna's capture the day before.

Half an hour later another band of men filed through the western gates of Sephar and entered the mouth of the same path. There were eight in the group: Jotan, Javan and Tamar with five of the warriors who had come with them on the long journey from Ammad to Sephar. Their destination, now, was the house of Rydob, and with them was a man adept at following a spoor, however faint.

Tarlok, the leopard, crouching among the dense foliage of a thick branch above the trail, watched them pa.s.s. Soundlessly he bared glistening fangs, and his yellow eyes narrowed into twin slits of hate. Tarlok detested these two-legged creatures; but even greater was his fear of them, for his mate had fallen, a moon ago, beneath the sharp sticks of such man-things.

CHAPTER XII

Enter--Pryak

Hardly had word of Alurna's disappearance flashed through Sephar, that same morning, than a young under-priest was seeking admittance to the secret chambers of Pryak, high-priest to the G.o.d-Whose-Name-May-Not-Be-Spoken-Aloud.

It was no simple matter to gain the subterranean apartment far beneath the temple. Only a chosen few had ever set foot within the holy-of-holies; this young man was not one of them. But his excited manner and the announcement of information "for Pryak alone" had brought him to the very door of the high-priest's suite. But here he was stopped by Orbar, second only to Pryak, himself.

Tidor was no fool. To be first to acquaint his chief with important information could gain him recognition as a loyal and conscientious follower. Men had risen high with such a beginning.

And so when Orbar sought to learn what word Tidor had brought, he was met by the unchanging retort: "I will tell Pryak--none other!"

Finally Orbar began to lose patience. "You may not see the most-high,"

he snapped. "Tell me what you know and I will pa.s.s it on--if it be worth-while repeating. Come, tell me, or I will teach you what it means to cross...o...b..r!"

Tidor trembled inwardly. He had heard gossip as to the fate of some who had angered Orbar. He was about to blurt out the news, when there came a sudden interruption.

The door to Pryak's apartment banged open and a short, frail-appearing man appeared in the doorway. He was well past middle-age, with spa.r.s.e graying hair that straggled untidily past the neck line of his tunic.

His wrinkled face was twisted in anger, and his shifty, close-set eyes of watery blue glared at the two men before him.

"What means this clamor, Orbar?" he demanded shrilly. "By the G.o.d, am I to be disturbed by petty wrangling on my own door-step? Who is this youth?"

Orbar's manner was humble, now. "Tidor, an under-priest, has come with word which he claims is of great importance. I tried to learn from him if the information was worthy of your attention, Most High, but he will tell me nothing."

Pryak turned on the young man. "What is this news?"

Tidor gulped. "O Voice of the G.o.d," he said shakily, "I have learned that Alurna, daughter of hated Urim, was stolen yesterday while in the jungle. A roving band of Hairy Men killed her guards and took her.

"An hour ago Vulcar and twenty men left to hunt for her. Urim stays at the palace, sick and miserable, waiting Vulcar's return."

Pryak's scowl had deepened as the youth spoke. "And you call that important? What do I care if that soft-hearted fool loses a worthless daughter? A sound whipping will teach you to--"

Suddenly the high priest fell silent. The anger twisting his features began to fade--replaced by a cunning, scheming expression no less repellent....