What must they think of you!"

Jotan was mid-way between laughter and anger. Tamar's reaction had been so typical, however, that he checked an angry retort. Tamar was so completely the sn.o.b, so entirely conscious of cla.s.s distinction, that his present att.i.tude was not surprising.

"It might be interesting," he admitted.

Tamar was puzzled. "What might?"

"To know what they think."

Tamar sniffed audibly, and moved away to join Javan.

They spent the balance of the afternoon walking about Sephar's streets, viewing the sights. Shortly before dusk Vulcar led them to their quarters in a large building near the juncture of two streets--a building with square windows barred by slender columns of stone. Slaves brought food; and after the three men had eaten, the room was cleared that they might sleep.

Jotan yawned. "Even my bones are weary," he said. "I'm going to bed."

Tamar stood up abruptly. He had been silently rehearsing a certain speech all afternoon, and he was determined to have his say.

"Wait, Jotan," he said. "I'd like to talk to you, first."

Jotan looked at his friend with mock surprise. He knew perfectly well what was coming, and he rather welcomed this opportunity to declare himself and, later, to enlist the aid of his friends.

Javan was regarding them with mild amazement on his good-natured, rather stupid face. He was the least aggressive of the three, usually content to follow the lead of the others.

"All right," Jotan said. "I'm listening."

"I suppose the whole thing doesn't really amount to much." Tamar forced a laugh. "But I think it was wrong for you to carry on the way you did over that cave-girl today. Only the G.o.d knows what the n.o.bles of Sephar, and Urim and his daughter, thought of your remarks. Why, anyone would have thought you had fallen in love with the girl!"

Jotan smiled--a slow, easy smile. "I have!" he said.

Tamar stiffened as though he had been struck. His face darkened. "No!

Jotan, do you know what you're saying? A naked wild creature in an animal skin! You talk like a fool!

"Javan!" He whirled on the silent one. "Javan, are you going to sit there and let this happen? Help me reason with this madman."

Javan sat with mouth agape. "But I--why--what--"

Jotan leaned back and sighed. "Listen, Tamar," he said placatingly. "We have been friends too long to quarrel over my taste in choosing a mate.

Tomorrow I shall ask Urim for the girl."

"Your _mate_? I might have known it." In his agitation Tamar began to pace the floor. "We should have stayed in Ammad. I have a good mind to go to Urim and plead with him not to give her to you."

"You shall do nothing of the kind, Tamar," Jotan said quietly. He was no longer smiling. "I will not permit you to interfere in this. This girl is to be my mate. You, as my friend, will help me."

Tamar snorted. "When our friends see her, see her as the mate of n.o.ble Jotan, you will wish that I _had_ interfered. A dirty half-wild savage!

You will be laughed at, my friend, and the ridicule will soon end your infatuation."

Jotan looked at him with level eyes. "You've said enough, Tamar.

Understand this: Tomorrow I shall ask Urim for the cave girl. Now I am going to sleep."

Tamar shrugged and silently turned away. Amidst a deep silence the three men spread their sleeping-furs, extinguished the candles and turned in.

As Tharn neared Sephar's outer wall, Uda, the moon, pushed her shining edge above the trees, causing the Cro-Magnon to increase his pace lest he be seen by some observer from within the city.

He reached the dense shadows of the wall directly in front of one mighty gateway, its barrier of heavy planks seemingly as solid as the stone wall on either side.

Tharn pressed an ear to a crack of the wood. He could hear nothing from beyond. Bending slightly forward, he dug his bare feet into the ground, placed one broad shoulder against the rough surface, and pushed. At first the pressure was gentle; but when the gate did not give, he gradually increased the force until all his superhuman strength strove to loosen the barrier.

But the stubborn wood refused to give way, and Tharn realized he must find another means of entry.

A single glance was enough to convince him that the rim of the wall was beyond leaping distance. It was beginning to dawn on the cave-man that getting into this strange lair was not to be so easy as he had at first expected.

He concluded finally that there was nothing left to do but circle the entire wall in hopes that some way to enter would show itself. Perhaps one of the several gates would have been left carelessly ajar, although he was not trusting enough to have much faith in that possibility.

After covering possibly half a mile, and testing two other gateways without success, his sharp gray eyes spied a broken timber near the top of the wall directly above one of the gates. An end of the plank protruded a foot beyond the sheer surface of rock.

Tharn grinned. Those within might as well have left the gate itself open. Drawing the gra.s.s rope from his shoulders, he formed a slip knot at one end, and with his first effort managed to cast the loop about the jagged bit of wood. This done, it was a simple matter to draw himself up to the timber. There he paused to restore the rope about his shoulders, then he cautiously poked his head over the wall and peered into the strange world below.

There was no one in sight. Still smiling confidently, keenly aware that he might never leave this place alive, he lowered himself over the edge, swung momentarily by his hands, then dropped soundlessly to the street below. The first obstacle in the search for Dylara had been overcome.

Slowly and without sound the ma.s.sive door to Dylara's room swung open, permitting a heavily-laden figure to enter. Placing its burden on the table, the figure closed the door, crossed to the side of the sleeping girl and bent above her, listening to the slow even breathing.

Satisfied, the visitor stepped back to the table and, with a coal from an earthen container, ignited the wicks of dishes of animal fat. The soft light revealed the newcomer as a woman.

Quietly she arranged the dishes she had brought, using the low stand as a table. That done, she came to Dylara's side and shook her gently by a shoulder.

The daughter of Majok awakened with a start, blinking the sleep from her eyes. At sight of the other, she sat up in quick alarm.

The woman smiled rea.s.suringly. "You must not be afraid," she said softly. "I am your friend. They sent me here with food for you. See?"

She pointed to the dishes.

The words brought a measure of comfort to Dylara's troubled mind. She noticed this woman's speech had in it nothing of the strange accent peculiar to Sephar's inhabitants.

"Who are you?" Dylara asked.

"I am Nada--a slave."

The girl nodded. Who was it this woman reminded her of? "I am Dylara, Nada. Tell me, why is it you speak as do the cave people?"

"I am of the cave people," replied the woman. "There are many of us here. The mountains about Sephar contain the caves of many tribes. Often Sephar's warriors make war on our people and carry many away to become slaves."

Dylara watched her as she spoke. Despite a youthful appearance, she must have been twice the cave-girl's age; about the same height but more fully developed. Her figure, under the simple tunic, was beautifully proportioned; her face the loveliest Dylara had ever seen. There was an indefinable air of breeding and poise in her manner, softened by warm brown eyes and an expression of sympathetic understanding.

Nada endured the close appraisal without self-consciousness. Finally she said: "You must be hungry. Come; sit here and eat."