"Fortune! Power to raise a kingdom once more!" "A kingdom from the lost souls of dead murderers?" "Aye. I know of your customs. If a man, or a woman at times, commits a crime so foul that they cannot even be awarded the punishment of a clean death by sword or of slow starvation in the Pits, the ancient law of Ygoth ordains the priests shall march them to the entrance of the Black Tower. There they are left to some inevitable and horrible doom; inevitable, for they never return from beyond the grim portals. The secrets of the Tower are lost in antiquity. Only the legends of your priests, who themselves have never entered, hint at the unknown fates of the condemned who were driven within the walls. A calloused criminal may laugh at the sword, but no human heart will fail to beat a little faster at the threat of the unknown danger." "They say," whispered Nione, "the Black Tower stood alone when all this land was barren and my forefathers who founded the dynasty of Krall were yet unborn! It is a hateful place where even a shrub or vine will not crawl from the earth. I care not to look upon it." "And dim the glory of your eyes," commented Duar pleasantly. "Yet this night we visit therein." "We? Do you think you can drag _me_ there, of all places, like a common wench?" "Or carry. You are my password. Ygoth is too well patrolled, by your own word, even for me." "The first guard we meet will imprison you!" "Not with the ring of Nione before his eyes--and a whisper or two. He will elevate his eyebrows as we pass and comment to himself that even a Queen must have diversions." Nione's cheeks flamed. "Never! No man in all my kingdom would ever think so of me." Duar laughed. "Men are always men, even when thinking of a Queen!" "Beast! Slave! Barbarian!" "For the moment, 'King.' But to continue. An unfrocked priest, dying on a battlefield, told me of a jewel called the Rose of Gaon that lay within the walls of the Black Tower of Ygoth, a jewel magnificent in size and beauty. He said that I, being Duar the Accursed, could pass in safety through the chamber of the hopeless dead who have been condemned there and claim the stone. He was a vengeful creature and I believe he meant to send me to my death even as he lay dying. Perhaps he did, for here I am. Now you know why I came to Ygoth. If the words he spoke were true, with that jewel I could buy enough men to conquer a new kingdom. Slave I may have been, but there is royal blood in my veins and I cannot rest unless I am a king!" * * * * * His last words were delivered in such impassioned tones that the servant girl was hardly able to stifle a scream. Nione's gaze searched the depths of his blue eyes and moved on to wander over the scars of his ragged person. "It seems," she observed, "the Queen is dethroned. But I have my pride--and courage. My guards will not break down the doors to find me screaming like a street-wench in your arms. Maid, bring cloaks!"