Part 14 (1/2)

Something akin to fear darkened Garlud's eyes. ”My son? What of him?

Surely your sense of justice has not so rotted that you would harm him!”

Sudden rage twisted Jaltor's countenance. ”No man speaks so to Jaltor of Ammad and lives!”

Garlud's smile was undismayed. ”Have you forgotten, Most-High. I have already been sentenced to death!”

”And by your att.i.tude,” Jaltor shouted, ”you have sentenced your son to the same fate.”

”On what grounds?”

”I need no grounds! I know your son, n.o.ble Garlud. When he hears that you are dead and that it was my order, he will attempt to avenge you. I know the love he holds for you, and it will be that mistaken loyalty which will lead him into an attempt to a.s.sa.s.sinate me. Your power is great in Ammad, Garlud; I helped you gain that power because you were my friend. Because you have won the affection and respect of many warriors they would rise to his leaders.h.i.+p against me. All Ammad might be torn by civil war. For that reason Jotan must die!”

Garlud's face was livid with rage and his hands were trembling. ”Then kill us both, you son of Gubo. You have become a fearful, evil old man who hides from shadows and who fears all men--even his friends! Kill us both that we may not pollute our lungs with the air you breathe!”

With an almost casual sweep of his mighty arm Jaltor hurled the raging n.o.bleman into the grasp of the guards. ”Confine him to the lowest pit beneath the palace!” he thundered. ”Let the rats chew him a few suns before I have him torn to bits!”

Without a backward glance the king strode from the room. He made his way up flight after flight of steps, through room after room of the sleeping palace, until he reached his own wing. Through several long, winding corridors he moved, oblivious to the salutes of startled guards on night duty, until he entered his private apartment. He went directly to his sleeping quarters, curtly ordered his two personal slaves into the next room, then undressed quickly and got into bed.

But not to sleep. For over an hour he tossed on the huge bed wooing sleep that would not come. Finally he rose, drew a richly woven robe about his shoulders and stepped out onto a small balcony overlooking one entire half of the vast city six floors below.

The rays of a full moon bathed the impressive scene. Because of the lateness of the hour no lights gleamed from windows of the box-like buildings and the broad streets were deserted.

Slowly reason was beginning to take hold of him as anger faded. Was Garlud correct in saying that he was becoming an old man fleeing from shadows, suspicious of all men? He went back over the golden days when he and Garlud were young warriors taking their first taste of battle against the then scattered states that today made up the country of Ammad. He recalled the day Garlud had saved his life by leaping in front of him and taking the tearing impact of a thrown spear. Garlud had very nearly died of that wound and he--Jaltor--had remained day and night at his bedside until the crisis pa.s.sed.

And that was the man he had sentenced to death! The man whose friends.h.i.+p had meant more to him than all his kingdom. Surely personal ambition alone could not have driven him into plotting the a.s.sa.s.sination of his best friend!

There was something behind all this that did not meet the eye. Had the would-be a.s.sa.s.sin been anyone other than old Heglar he would have dismissed his involvement of Garlud as a trumped up lie and executed the man on the spot.

Had Heglar lied? Was there some motivation so strong that the old man had been forced into bearing false witness against one of the most loved n.o.blemen in all Ammad? Was all this some intricate plot, with Garlud instead of Jaltor as the real victim?

Jaltor, stern, ruthless and high-handed though he was, was a man with ideals and a strong sense of honor. Also, he was extremely intelligent and a veteran of the machinations of intrigue. The more he thought about this whole business the more certain he was that all the facts were not yet revealed.

For a long time he stood there on the small balcony, staring out over Ammad with unseeing eyes. After a while a slow smile came to his strong lips and he nodded his head a time or two in satisfaction. There was a way....

Leaving the balcony he strode quickly to the room's single door and threw it wide. ”Quick!” he snapped to one of the startled slaves, ”tell Curzad I want him here at once!”

When the captain of the guards, as alert and bright-eyed as though he had not been dragged from a sound sleep by Jaltor's summons, appeared in the doorway the king bade him enter and close the door.

”Curzad,” he said, ”you have known the n.o.ble Garlud almost as long as I have. Does it seem likely to you that he would be mixed up in a plot to kill me?”

The iron-faced warrior shook his head impa.s.sively. ”No, Most-High. His love and respect for you are beyond doubt.”

”You think I acted unwisely in finding him guilty?”

”That is not for me to say, Most-High.”

”I _know_ that! But you are not made of stone; you must have formed some opinion.”