The Return of Tharn Part 9

"Of course. A fine young man too--as I remember him. You're sure he's dead?"

"If not, he soon will be."

"But he is not in Ammad, I understand. Didn't he make a trip to Sephar, Vokal?"

"He is due back within half a moon at the earliest."

"How will you handle the matter when he arrives at Ammad's gates?"

Vokal smiled his dreamy smile. "He will not arrive at Ammad's gates, O Heglar! The day you attempt Jaltor's a.s.sa.s.sination a party of my most trusted guards will leave Ammad to intercept Jotan and his men. Their orders will be to leave not one of them alive."

"It is clear that you have thought of everything!" The old man gulped down his wine and stood up. "It is late, and at my age I need a great deal of sleep--especially if I am to be tortured by Jaltor's experts in that line! So, if you will pay me my thousand tals, n.o.ble Vokal, I shall leave you."

"Of course." Vokal rose smoothly to his feet, went to the door and summoned a guard outside. "Arouse Yodak and instruct him to bring a thousand tals to me here."

"At once, Most-High." The guard saluted and went quickly down the hall.

Heglar was shaking his head admiringly. "You take some long chances, Vokal!"

The gray-haired n.o.bleman glanced sharply at him. "What do you mean?"

"This matter of your guards calling you 'Most-High'. That is a mark of respect given only to kings, you know. I doubt if Jaltor would approve of your appropriating it to your own use."

The other's blue-gray eyes seemed to film over. "Kings have been known to die, n.o.ble Heglar--and at times the ranking n.o.bleman takes his place.

One must prepare for every possibility."

"Even to having one's guards form the habit of saying Most-High, eh?"

The arrival of a small frail-bodied old man in hastily donned tunic ended the conversation. He was bearing a small cloth bag which gave off the sounds of clinking metal.

"The thousand tals, Most-High," he quavered, holding out the bag.

Vokal took it and dismissed the man. "... Would you care to count them?"

he said upon placing the bag in Heglar's hands.

"It is not necessary," the old man said, then smiling, added: "You need my specialized services too badly to cheat me!"

Vokal summoned a guard and instructed him to appoint several warriors to escort the old man safely to his home, as robbery under cover of night was far from unusual on Ammad's numerous streets.

When the door had closed and Vokal was alone once more, he returned to his chair and filled his wine cup. "A thousand tals," he mused.

"Heglar's a.s.sistance comes high indeed. But let him fondle them for a little while before they come back to me--along with the lovely Rhoa. I wonder what the old man would say if he knew his mate has been my mistress these past three moons!"

CHAPTER V

BEYOND THE HEIGHTS

As Tharn felt those fingers close about his ankle he dropped instantly to his other knee to keep from being upset and swung his free hand in a sweeping blow at the point where reason told him the face of his attacker would be.

So quickly had he acted that his knuckles thudded home on an unseen jaw before its owner was able to shout an alarm. There followed a convulsive twist of a body in front of him and the clutching fingers loosed their hold.

His unconscious prize still hanging from his shoulders, Tharn regained his feet and raced cat-like for the mouth of the cave. Behind him he caught the sound of a startled grunt, followed by a wild yell that roused every occupant of the cave while Tharn was still a good thirty feet short of his goal.

A huge form shot up in front of him, a raised knife silhouetted against the star light beyond. Behind him naked feet whispered against rock as several enemy warriors rushed to close with the foolhardy intruder.

Tharn was trapped! Burdened as he was by the limp weight of his captive, he knew his chances of leaving Gerdak's cave were almost nonexistant.

But not once did the thought come to him of abandoning his catch--his only means of locating the route of those who held Dylara. With a single bound he was upon the man in his path; a supple twist of his body allowed the descending knife to slip harmlessly past. At the same instant he drove a hip into his attacker, who, off balance, was knocked headlong into two other warriors.

The way was clear now to the cave's mouth and Tharn was congratulating himself that he would at least reach open air when two more warriors dropped from above onto the narrow ledge of Gerdak's cave. Evidently they had been aroused by the chorus of yells and had come down from their caves to investigate.

At sight of their leveled spears Tharn skidded to a halt. Behind him he could hear at least two of Gerdak's personal guards moving cautiously forward to take him from the rear. With no avenue for retreat, with a pair of trained fighting men cutting off his advance, his chances for escape were thinned indeed.

Yet not for an instant did his confidence waver. He had weathered worse situations, and the muscles and cunning developed by a thousand jungle battles were weapons superior to the flint-headed spears hemming him in.

Even as he came to a halt, his sharp eyes caught a glimpse of that stack of spears he had pa.s.sed when first entering the cave. One bronzed arm shot out, circled the lot of those keen-pointed sticks and lifted and flung them in one continuous motion.

The warriors outside were engulfed by the minor avalanche of flint and wood. They stepped back precipitantly, and one of the men was tripped up as a shaft slipped between his legs. With a shrill cry of terror he tottered momentarily on the brink of the ledge, then went over backwards, his despairing scream rising thinly on the night air.

Tharn had not waited to learn the outcome of his ruse. While the remaining warrior was attempting to sidestep the shower of spears the cave lord was upon him. Avoiding the flint point licking out at his naked chest, he ducked and swung his free fist in a savage arc that ended wrist deep in an unprotected belly.

Bent nearly double by the blow, the enemy Cro-Magnard was lifted completely from his feet and propelled into s.p.a.ce, his already unconscious body tracing a perfect parabola to death on the ground sixty feet below.

Although no enemy stood before him, Tharn was a long way from safety. A spear thrown from the cave behind him pa.s.sed scant inches from his head signifying Gardak's personal guards had recovered their wits and were after him once more. Below him a score of cave mouths were disgorging armed fighting men and flaming torches dotted the cliffside. To attempt to descend by the path that had brought him here was worse than foolhardy.

As in most Cro-Magnon settlements, the chief's own cave was nearest the cliff's top. A glance upward revealed to Tharn the escarpment's top not more than twenty feet distant. To swarm up that almost vertical slope while burdened with a body would have taxed the agility of little n.o.bar, the monkey. But there was no other avenue of escape except to battle an entire community--and no time to compute chances for scaling those heights.

Already two warriors, each armed with a stone knife, had gained the ledge on either side of him, grins of triumph curling their lips, while a faint scuffling sound against the cave floor behind him told Tharn others were slinking toward him from the rear.

With a m.u.f.fled snarl Tharn wheeled and began to climb. His groping fingers and toes found outcroppings of rock to serve as almost invisible rungs of a perilous ladder. A lifetime of climbing, plus utter self-confidence, sent him up that sheer surface with incredible speed.

So completely unexpected was their quarry's route that Gerdak's men were thrown into momentary confusion. By the time the first shower of spears rose toward the climbing cave man he was three-quarters of the way to freedom. As a result most of the weapons fell short of their mark, while the others, because of the uncertain light and the swiftness of their target's progress, missed completely. Immediately a second flight of spears were launched--but time had run out. Tharn was already over the lip of the precipice as they were rising in his direction.

He found himself on rolling, gra.s.s-covered ground. A hundred yards ahead was a jungle-cloaked forest, its towering trees close-knit to the point of impenetrability.

With long, loping strides Tharn crossed the ribbon of gra.s.sland, melting into the shadows of the overhanging branches as the first of Gerdak's warriors appeared at the cliff's top.

The ground was too choked with verdure for more than snail-like progress, and Tharn, his unconscious burden still draped across one broad shoulder, took to the trees. With a celerity that long ago had become second nature to him he raced through the branches, moving parallel to the strip of gra.s.sland he had crossed a few moments earlier.

The shouts of his bewildered pursuers faded, swallowed up finally by the noises peculiar to a nocturnal jungle.

Half an hour later altered his course and returned to the ribbon of open ground. By this time his captive was showing signs of returning consciousness and Tharn tightened his grip on the youth's arm to prevent him from attempting to get away. He could feel tremors of fear course through the flesh pressing against his shoulder and he smiled grimly. A terrified prisoner was usually a tractable one.