The Return of Tharn
CHAPTER VII
THE SPIDER MEN
Dylara awakened with a convulsive start as the lofty branch upon whichshe had been sleeping swayed and bent beneath suddenly added weight.
As she started up, a scream rising to her lips, hands reached out of thenight's impenetrable curtain and tore her roughly from where she sat.Instinctively she attempted to struggle free, only to receive a buffetalongside the head that left her limp and only half conscious.
Her first impression was that one of the great apes, occasionallyglimpsed among the more impenetrable reaches of jungle, had seized her;for she could feel coarse long hair matting its chest and arms. Even asthe thought sent her heart sinking with fear and loathing, she knew shewas mistaken, since the creature's body was much too slender, its armstoo thin and frail to belong to one of the bulky anthropoids.
That she was in deadly peril Dylara did not doubt, but not to know theform such peril took was inconceivably worse. It was this, fear of theunknown that crystallized her determination to break from this stiflingembrace or die in the attempt; and she was gathering her strength forthe effort when her captor suddenly whirled about on the narrow branchand, with her across his back, dived headlong into space!
The shock was too much for human nerves. Dylara voiced a single screamand her senses fled under the lash of pure panic.
She came back to reality to find she was being borne through the treeswith incredible speed. Now and then a vine flicked against her shiveringbody or leaves brushed against her face, and several times the thingcarrying her leaped outward through space that seemed boundless, only toland lightly upon a swaying branch in another tree.
Even Tharn, she realized, could not have matched the creature's amazingagility, for it was using both hand and feet with equal dexterity afterthe manner of little Nobar, the monkey.
Gradually, as the likelihood of being dashed to earth seemed more andmore remote, Dylara began to think once more of escape. The time was notnow, of course; she could only cling desperately to her captor's thinshoulders and wait for this breathless journey to end. Eventually thosewiry muscles must tire and the creature stop--then she would make herbid for freedom.
Abruptly and without slackening its pace the hairy thing uttered apiercing shriek like nothing Dylara had ever heard before. Twice morethe awful sound rang out; and then, far ahead, came an answering cryfaint and wavering.
Instantly the creature put on an added burst of speed, rocketing throughthe branches in dizzying bounds that threatened to tear away Dylara'snone too certain hold. So swift was the pace now that within a fewminutes a wide clearing loomed ahead and her captor began to slipgroundward.
Suddenly the hairy creature halted on a wide limb bordering the clearingas a host of shadowy forms rose around him. There was not enough lightfor Dylara to make use of her eyes but she sensed these were the figuresof creatures similar to the one which held her.
They chattered shrilly among themselves in a completely unfamiliartongue for several moments, then all of them moved ahead a shortdistance until the clearing itself was reached.
Dylara was expecting the entire party to descend to the ground. Butinstead they began to climb higher and higher. At last the one carryingher came to a halt well within the embrace of a jungle patriarch; and atthat moment Uda, the moon, appeared from behind a cloud and poured hersilver rays into the clearing.
* * * * *
For the first time since her capture she was able to see well enough todistinguish objects. She was surrounded by a group of some ten or twelveman-like beings--but beings like nothing she had ever dreamed of!
All were well over six feet in height, but so thin in body they seemedmuch taller. All were naked except for girdles of grass about theirhips, the rest of their bodies being covered with monkey-like hair.Their arms and legs were incredibly long and thin, their toes long andprehensile. Each face was hairless and almost perfectly round,containing small beady eyes, a brief blob of nose, a tiny lipless mouthand almost no chin at all. It was more the face of some particularlyrepellent insect--a comparison that leaped to Dylara's mind at sight ofthe long hairy limbs, the thin torsos pinched in deeply at the waist andthe quick, jerky way in which they moved restlessly about her.
The one holding her let her slide from its back and the others movedcloser, reaching out to pluck at her tunic with abnormally long naillessfingers, their voices like the rising skirl of an insect swarm.
Angrily she pushed away the exploring fingers. "Who are you?" she cried,"and what do you want of me?"
One of the things, evidently angered at being repulsed, snaked out along arm and caught her roughly about the waist, dragging her to him.Instantly the one that had brought her here leaped upon the intruder,nearly sweeping Dylara from her precarious footing on the branch. For aninstant the pair clawed frantically at each other, but their companionspushed between them and broke up the battle.
The incident seemed to touch off a long and heated discussion, duringwhich Dylara was apparently forgotten. They stood in a tight knot amongthe branches, their ridiculous faces pushed together in almost a solidlump, while their keening voices went on and on with a monotonous kindof intensity.
A slow-moving cloud stole across Uda's shining face, plunging the sceneinto heavy darkness. Dylara felt sudden hope leap in her breast. Surelythey were too intent with their arguing to notice her if she slippedaway! Besides, how could even the keenest eye pierce the blackness of ajungle night?
She took a slow step away from them, balancing herself lightly on thebroad bough. Another--and still another. The high-pitched debate went onin full volume.
Cautiously she lowered herself to a branch immediately below, thenwaited with pounding heart to learn if her move had been detected.
Nothing had changed! She bent again ... and from nowhere a sinuous armslithered out of the blackness, caught her about the middle and jerkedher back and into the group.
The discussion appeared to be ended. One of the creatures swept the cavegirl into his embrace and continued to climb toward the stars, leavinghis companions where they were.
A solid mass of foliage loomed suddenly in front of Dylara--and in thatmoment Uda came into the open sky once more. In the few seconds left forDylara to drink in the scene she saw a sight she was never to forget.
* * * * *
Suspended among branches of the trees about her were conical huts oftwigs and grasses. Their floors evidently did not rest on the boughsthemselves but each separate structure bobbed lightly up and down fromthe end of a thick grass rope tied to a branch overhead. In the base ofeach was an opening only large enough to permit entry on only hands andknees.
Dylara's breath went out of her in a sudden gasp. Now she knew why herfirst impression of these creatures had likened them to insects. Therewas a species of spider that built nests above the ground--nests conicalin shape and swung from twigs!
The hair-covered arms, legs and bodies, the pinched-in abdomens, theround heads set flush with the shoulders. These were spider men!
A wave of unbearable nausea overwhelmed her, robbing her of allstrength. Dazed, she felt herself being thrust through an opening in oneof the swaying huts, felt the spider-man follow her in--then once moreshe was lifted by a pair of long thin arms.
Weakly she lifted her hands to strike out at the loathsome thing holdingher--then blackness poured into her brain and she knew no more.
* * * * *
For the better part of two weeks Tharn and Trakor made little progressalong the trail taken by those Ammadians who held Dylara. With thepatient stoicism of all creatures of the wild he accepted theunavoidable delay in his plans brought on by his acquisition of theuntrained Trakor; and as the best way of lightening his burden, set outto school the boy in the lore of the jungle.
Most of that first week was spent in acquiring the knack of using thetree tops as a highway. Trakor, like most Cro-Magnards, was accu
stomedto climbing in search of fruit and birds' nests. But when it came tohurtling from bough to bough and tree to tree in a dizzying pathwayhigh above ground, he was both hesitant and doubtful.
Patiently Tharn strove to build up the youth's confidence. At first hespent hours in developing within him that sense of balance which is thebasis for forest-top travel. Once Trakor could thread his way along aswaying branch a hundred feet in the air without reaching wildly for ahand-hold, Tharn undertook to teach him the grasp, swing and releaseused in plunging through space from one jungle giant to the next.
At first the boy fell many times and his body was a mass of painfulbruises. But he endured the pain without complaint, returning to thebranches for more with unabated enthusiasm. Hour after hour, day afterday he strove for something approaching Tharn's expertness at the craft,and while he knew he would never succeed in reaching the high standardsof his teacher, he was gaining confidence that eventually he would nearthat mark.
Within a week he was bounding about the trees with a sure-footedness andcelerity that brought praise from his companion. He took the utmostpleasure in challenging the jungle lord to arboreal races, and while henever won them he came close on several occasions. Soon his confidencepassed into a cocksure attitude and he began to take longchances--leaping twenty feet across a treeless gap to catch some narrowlimb waving in a strong breeze, or hurtling through space at the end ofa trailing vine in imminent danger of being dashed to death on theground below.
Nor did Tharn protest these activities or urge him to greater caution.The youth must learn from experience what could and could not be done.He gloried in Trakor's small triumphs and comforted him in his failures,and always he was careful not to say or do anything that would weakenthe boy's mounting confidence.
* * * * *
When Tharn was satisfied the boy was reasonably at home among the trees,by night or by day, the second phase of his education was undertaken. Hetaught him to follow an animal's spoor along the dust of a game trail,he showed him how not only to classify each into its proper category butschooled him in such fine distinctions as judging an animal's height,weight and age from imprints left by its feet. Luckily Trakor wasendowed with eyes and ears beyond the normal in keenness, and it was notlong until he was able to give an excellent account of himself inwoodcraft.
And daily his strength was increasing under the unaccustomed tasksimposed on his muscles. Swinging by the hands through mile after mile ofbranches molded biceps and back muscles into bands of steel and endowedhis fingers with a vise-like grip. His body, already deeply tanned,became burned to a dusky hue and he began to fill out into a specimen ofperfect manhood.
If Tharn chafed at the delay in his reunion with Dylara he did notdisplay it and he continued the boy's education as though he had alifetime to put into doing so. But Trakor knew what all this was costingthe other, and while he never mentioned it, the determination grew tomake it up to the cave lord. There was a bond between them now, based onmutual respect and admiration, plus a hero-worshiping desire on Trakor'spart to become exactly like Tharn himself.
Exactly half a moon from the day Tharn had snatched Trakor from underthe noses of Gerdak's warriors, the boy made his first kill--a fat buckthat had come down to a water hole to drink. He had dropped upon itsback from the lower branches of a tree, as Tharn had taught him, and aknife thrust into its heart had brought it down.
They sat side by side among the branches of a tree, gorging themselveson strips of raw flesh hacked from the side of Trakor's kill, whilebelow them a pack of Jackals quarreled over the buck's remains. Sunsetwas only minutes away and already dusk was seeping into the forestaisles.
Trakor was full of plans for the morrow. "When Dyta comes again," he wassaying, "let us hunt out the lair of one of the great cats. I need a newloin cloth and I will cut one from the hide of Jalok or Tarlok--after Ihave slain him."
Tharn hid his smile by sinking his gleaming teeth into the meat in hishands. "And how will you go about killing Tarlok?" he said casually.
Trakor was surprised at the question. "The same way you slew Sadu theday we met. I will spring upon him from a tree and drive my knife intohis heart."
"You will spring into his teeth!" Tharn said grimly. "Let this be yourmost important lesson: Seek no fight with the great cats. A life time inthe jungle is not training enough to pick a quarrel with any of them.There will be times when one of them will stalk you down and trap you;then, if you are lucky, you instead of Tarlok or Jalok or Sadu will comeout alive."
"But you have slain them!" Trakor argued.
"True. But never have I sought them out for that purpose. Each time wefought it was because I had no choice, and always the margin betweenvictor and vanquished was so narrow it easily might have gone the otherway."
"I am not afraid!"
"Fear has nothing to do with it. A true warrior does not doubt hisbravery; only a coward feels he must prove to himself that he is brave.Survival in the jungle depends on knowing and respecting its denizens;he who struts along the trails looking for trouble finds himself fillingtrouble's belly!"
And so Trakor changed the subject and they talked of other matters. Butdeep within the boy burned the determination to hunt down one of thegreat cats at the first opportunity. Tharn, knowing this--his owndevelopment had gone through the same stage--said no more on thesubject.
* * * * *
While they talked Tharn watched his companion, marveling at the changethese past two weeks had made in him. Trakor was every inch a truejungle dweller. He sat with his back comfortably against the tree bole,his shock of black hair falling almost to his shoulders in back andrudely hacked off above his eyes. His swelling chest and broad shoulderswere burned almost black by the sun, the skin as clear and unblemishedas a woman's. The thin waist, narrow supple hips and long straight legswere the hallmarks of a true warrior, and his sharp alert eyes andhandsome clean-cut features were evidence of nobility and intelligence.Fate had placed worthy clay into Tharn's hands for molding and he lookedupon his work and found it good.
With this realization came a decision. "Tomorrow," he said, "I must takeup the trail of those who hold Dylara. Already she may be within thecity of Ammad and I dare not wait longer."
Trakor flushed. "It is my fault. Had you not met me she might be withyou at this moment."
"And had I not met you," Tharn said lightly, "I might still be lookingfor the trail I lost a moon earlier. Or Sadu might have caught and eatenme had I gone on instead of lingering here."
"A score of Sadus could not catch you!"
Tharn did not reply and his smile was hidden by the handful of leaveswith which he wiped the blood of his meal from his lips. "Let us sleepnow," he said quietly. "We have many suns of traveling ahead of us."
* * * * *
Otar was utterly miserable. Fresh blisters had broken on his feet forthe fourth day in a row and each step was agony. Life as a guard inVokal's palace had not been strenuous enough to prepare him for a longjourney into the jungle, and as he limped along in the company of hisfifty companions he heaped silent curses upon the head of Ekbar, captainof Vokal's guards, who had selected him to take part in this mysteriousexcursion into the jungles surrounding Ammad.
Otar knew full well why he had been one of those so selected. The lovelyMarua had chosen him as her mate instead of Ekbar, and the captain wasallowing to pass no opportunity to keep them apart. True, Ekbar wasleading the expedition and therefore was unable to take advantage ofOtar's absence from the side of his lovely mate. But in view of hisaching feet and terror of the grim jungle hemming him in night and day,this was small consolation.
This was the eighth day since Ammad's walls had faded into the south andstill no word from Ekbar as to how much farther they must go. Night wasnot far distant; at any moment now the several advance scouts Ekbar senton ahead each day would be straggling back to make their reports to thecaptain. That would be the si
gnal to make camp for the night--somethingothers of the party besides Otar were looking forward to.
In a column two abreast the fifty shuffled along, war spears ready intheir hands, bows and arrow-filled quivers at their backs, a stone knifein the belt of each tunic. Over them hung the brooding humid jungle oneither side of the elephant path, while in their ears rose and fell thenow familiar pattern of sound formed by buzzing insects, chatteringmonkeys and raucous-voiced birds. Except for the clouds of insects thathad a way of working down inside a tunic this was not so bad. It waswhen night came and the challenging cries of Sadu and Tarlok and Jalokmade hideous the darkness beyond the camp's circle of fires, that Otarknew the depths of fear. Then was when heavy paws padded against theearth nearby and yellow eyes gleamed out of the night.
"Here comes one of the scouts!" said the man next to Otar, pointing."Look how excited he is!"
A stocky built man in a once white tunic was running swiftly along thepath toward the column's head, waving his arms. Instantly Ekbar liftedhis spear in a horizontal position and the column ground to a halt.
Otar could see the two of them, Ekbar and the scout, carrying on aheated discussion, but he was too far back to make out the words. Whilethey talked, the remaining three scouts arrived and joined in theconversation.
It lasted for several minutes; then Ekbar, tall and square-shouldered,gave the signal to resume the march. Several of the troops groanedopenly; but the groans changed to elated murmurs of satisfaction almostimmediately when the winding trail debouched into a small circularclearing divided by a small jungle stream.
The order was given to make camp and prepare food. Those whose nightlyduty it was to gather branches for a fiery circle to keep the cats atbay were called back when they started into the jungle--a matter thatcaused considerable discussion among the others.
* * * * *
They were not long left in doubt. Ekbar gathered the warriors in a tightcircle and, standing in its center, gave them their first explanationsince leaving Ammad.
"An enemy force lies encamped an hour's march ahead of us," he said inhis high-pitched, almost querulous voice. "For that reason we must forgoour nightly fires lest the glow be seen and the enemy warned. Instead,once you have eaten, you are to spend the night in the trees. A few ofus will go on ahead under cover of darkness and learn the number ofenemies we must face. Early on the morrow we attack!"
His chill eyes went around the circle, then he lifted one arm and beganto point out individuals, calling their names and ordering each to stepforward.
Otar, anger stiffening his jaw, was among the first to be summoned. Whenthe new group reached six, Ekbar dismissed the others and bade themfollow him.
Half an hour after leaving the main body darkness came down upon theseven Ammadian warriors, blacking out their immediate surroundings.Unconsciously they moved closer together and their voices stilled. Thejungle was unfamiliar territory to most of them and a place where deathmight lay behind each bush along the way.
Presently they detected a wavering glow filtering through the treesahead, and Ekbar warned them in a low voice to proceed with addedcaution. A little later he motioned them to a halt and went on ahead,his body crouched, his spear and knife ready for action.
He reappeared almost immediately. "They have made a dry camp in a smallclearing just around a bend of the trail," he whispered. "Follow me andlet not so much as a blade of grass bend under your feet!"
Like disembodied wraiths the seven members of Vokal's palace guard creptamong the towering trees to one side of the trail. With slow stealththey worked their way forward until they lay, side by side among thethick undergrowth at the clearing's edge. Trained ears would have markedtheir passage long before they reached that position, but the ears ofthe five sentries on duty were no keener than those of the averageAmmadian.
Most of the camp lay sleeping behind barricades of burning branches,their huddled shapes beneath sleeping furs visible by light offlickering flames. The sentries were pacing to and fro, stoppingoccasionally to pass a remark or two among themselves. The only soundscame from the crackling wood of the fires and, very distant, the huntingsquall of a leopard.
Ekbar's eyes, a bit keener than those of his companions, noticedsomething. "Look!" he whispered. "Several in a row of sleepers nearestus have bandages on their heads. Yes, and one of the sentries iscarrying his arm in a sling. They've come through a fight of some kindrecently."
Otar, who had been peering intently at the five sentries, voiced amuffled explanation.
"Your scouts were wrong, Ekbar!" he said, his voice rising to its normalvolume. "These men are----"
A savage hand about his neck choked off his words. "Quiet, you fool!"whispered Ekbar, his fingers tightening their hold.
One of the watch had lifted his head and was staring intently in theirdirection. After a long moment he shrugged slightly and busied himselfwith adding branches to the fire. Only then did Ekbar release his hold.
* * * * *
Otar, anger and bewilderment plain in his expression, massaged hisaching neck. "I tell you," he whispered, "those are not enemies. Theyare warriors of the palace of the noble Garud of Ammad. One of thosesentries is Dretox, an acquaintance of mine who went with Jotan,Garud's son, to Sephar several moons ago. It is plain that they arereturning to Ammad and we should go out and welcome them instead ofskulking here in the bushes."
"And I say these men are enemies!" hissed Ekbar heatedly. "Listen andjudge for yourself."
"The morning of the day we left Ammad an attempt was made on the life ofJaltor, our king. The news swept the city; I know that some of you, atleast, must have heard it. Vokal, our master, as one of Ammad'snoblemen, learned Garlud was behind the attempted assassination. On thedirect and secret orders of Jaltor himself, Vokal has sent us tointercept and kill Jotan, who once he learns Garlud is dead afterplotting to have the king slain, may attempt to even the score byleading a revolt that could plunge all Ammad into civil war."
"That is why we are here and that is why these men are enemies. And onthe morrow we shall attack them and put them all to instant death!"
It was reason enough and they were satisfied. Such intrigues were commonin Ammad; several of the six had served more than one nobleman duringtheir lifetimes.
"One thing bothers me," Ekbar was whispering. "It was believed Jotantook fifty men with him to Sephar, also two friends who are sons ofnoblemen. These last two must be overcome and spirited away withoutlearning our identity. When Jotan and the rest are dead, we will releasethe pair of them and let them find their way to Ammad. I want asuggestion on how that can be done."
No one spoke for a while. The sentries continued to move among the firesa few feet away, and the sounds of a nocturnal jungle rose and fellabout them.
It was Ekbar himself who hit on a plan, as befitted one of a captain'srank.
"We shall need one of those sleeping men," he said. "I will take two ofyou and circle the camp to the opposite side. After we have time enoughto reach that point, the rest of you will make a noise of some kind toattract the guards' attention. Be careful not to make them toosuspicious lest they rouse the camp. While they are looking in yourdirection, we will creep up and grab the first man we come to."
The men signified that they understood, and Ekbar, Otar and a warriornamed Kopan set out to take up their arranged positions. Hardly werethey ready when a low moaning sound rose from among the bushes acrossthe clearing and the foliage there began to shake violently.
Instantly the five guards grouped behind that section of the burningcircle nearest the disturbance. They raised their spears ready forcasting and one of the five hurled a burning branch across the narrowribbon of open ground.
"Now!" Ekbar grated.
* * * * *
Stooping, the three men raced for the encampment. They cleared theburning barrier at a bound, snatched up the nearest of the sleepingfigures, muffling his fa
ce with his own sleeping furs before he couldawaken, then turned and vanished into the jungle. So quickly had theyacted, so swift and sure their motions, that none of the other sleepersso much as stirred and the guards never noticed.
The instant the abductors had disappeared the moans stopped and theshaking foliage stilled. For a long time the guards continued to standthere waiting, but when no other disturbance materialized they sighedwith relief and went back to the restless patrolling.
Meanwhile Ekbar and his men were returning to their own camp, theircaptive with them. They drew him into a sheltered place under thetrees, lighted a small fire that his expression might tell them if heanswered their questions with lies and went to work on him.
He was a young man, clear-eyed, intelligent and not at all frightened.He stared at his captors without recognition, obviously puzzled to findthey were men of his own nationality.
"What is your name?" rasped Ekbar, scowling menacingly.
"Tykol--if that helps you any! What is the meaning of this? Who areyou?"
"I will ask the questions here!" Ekbar snapped. "And you will answerthem if you wish to see Dyta, the sun, again! Do you understand?"
"I understand well enough, but that does not mean I will tell youanything!"
Without the slightest change of expression Ekbar whipped out the knifeat his belt and sank three inches of the cold flint into one of theman's thighs. Tykol cried out involuntarily and struggled to free hisarms from the vines binding them to his sides.
Ekbar waited until his struggles ceased. A small stream of blood welledfrom the knife wound and began to drip against the leaves beneath.
"What," said Ekbar, "are the names of the two young noblemenaccompanying Jotan?"
Tykol, his active mind racing, did not at once reply. It was clear thesemen meant no good to any of Jotan's followers. His cue was to simulate acertain amount of fear to satisfy them his answers were the truth untilhe could discover exactly what was afoot.
Ekbar leaned forward and lifted his knife again. "Shall I give you asecond taste of this?" he growled.
Tykol appeared to flinch. "No," he mumbled. "I will tell you. Theirnames are Javan and Tamar."
"How many men are with them?"
"Thirty-seven."
"You lie!" Ekbar snarled. "Fifty were in the party when it left Ammad."
The young captive digested this information quickly. It proved these menwere Ammadians like himself; how else could they have known that?
"I am not lying," he said sullenly. "Three nights ago lions attacked ourcamp and killed and ate the others, wounding many of the rest of us."
* * * * *
Ekbar, remembering the bandages he had glimpsed while spying on thecamp, nodded to himself. It would make his task of wiping out thebalance of them that much easier.
"What positions do these two men hold in the line of march during theday?" he demanded.
"Javan now marches at the head of the column."
The captain's head jerked up sharply. "Don't lie to me, you son of Gubo!Jotan marches there; he is in charge of his men. There is no need foryou to attempt to shield him--he will be dead in a few hours!"
It was all Tykol needed. He knew now that he himself would not live tosee tomorrow's sun; and while the thought was sobering enough it did notdim his determination to save the life of his beloved master.
And so Tykol threw back his head and laughed--laughed until a heavy blowfrom the fist of Ekbar sent him sprawling. The captain gestured angrilyto the others to drag the youth upright again, then said:
"You laugh, fool. Does the thought of Jotan's death mean so little toyou?"
"That is not why I laugh," Tykol told him, grinning. "I laugh because noact of yours can take his life--for he no longer has a life to take!"
Strong fingers twisted into the front of his tunic and jerked himforward. "What do you mean? The truth, jackal, or I cut you in bits!"
Tykol appeared properly cowed. "The lions got him--as they got the nobleTamar. It was terrible, I tell you! For hours they crouched just outsidethe circle of fires while their roars filled the night. We tried todrive----"
"Enough!" growled the captain. "We shall soon find out if you are lying.If our scouts learn Jotan is still with his men I promise you a slow andhorrible death."
"And when you find I am telling the truth," Tykol said, feigningeagerness, "will you then let me go?"
Ekbar sat there fingering his knife, thinking. If this man spoke truewords there would be no need for massacring Jotan's warriors. It wouldbe far better to permit them to reach Ammad and tell of his death underSadu's rending fangs. Thus the last threat to Vokal's plans would havebeen accomplished without an air of mystery behind it that some one,becoming curious, might dig into.
But he would need more than this man's word. On the morrow he would sendscouts who could recognize Jotan, back to spy on the column. If Jotanwas not there, then Tykol's story would be proved true; Ekbar wouldwithdraw his men and return to Ammad, leaving the remnants of Jotan'stroops to straggle back unmolested by him.
Either way he no longer had use of Tykol. His attention came back to thebound man in front of him. "Yes," he said, replying to the young man'slast question, "you shall have your freedom. In fact I shall give it toyou now."
With those words he lunged forward and drove his knife into Tykol'sheart!
Thus died a true warrior--loyal unto death to the man he served, knowinghis heroism would lie with his bones unknown, yet making his supremesacrifice without hesitation and without self-pity.
Ekbar wiped clean his stone blade on the dead man's tunic and rose tohis feet. "Haul this carrion deeper within the jungle," he told hissober-faced men, "and rouse the camp. We start back to Ammad at once."