Suddenly her eyes grew wide with terror and the blush became a pallor as reflected movement in the glass surface showed billowings in the draperies. Someone had entered, unannounced, the sacred precinct that was the bedchamber of the Queen. Her personal handmaiden had already been dismissed; the guardsmen outside would never have had the temerity to enter unless an alarm had been given. What danger stalked here? Assassination? In spite of the trembling in her limbs and the pounding heart beneath her flimsy night attire, regal Nione of Ygoth spoke in a calm, authoritative voice: "What coward comes skulking in the dark?" "One who resents the appellation, Your Majesty," replied Duar, stepping through the portieres, and still damp from the dungeons. His right hand held a sword, unsheathed. However the apparition of a vengeful prisoner released in her boudoir may have affected Nione, there seemed to be more color to her cheeks and a returned ease to her posture as she swung to face him. In her heart she knew here was no assassin. "Apparently my Pits are not deep enough!" "Nor would be the pits of Hell if I wished to view Your glorious Majesty!" "Nor my guards strong enough!" "Nor guards, nor swords----" "Whence came the one you hold?" asked the Queen, pointing to the bright blade Duar held at rest. "The guard without, my Queen, is now without his sword." Again the white teeth flashed. "I was hungry and I could not find the kitchens. But as I wandered about, marveling at the splendor--and the inhospitality--of so magnificent a Queen, I perceived before these doors a certain belligerent person who rudely accosted me. When he became vicious I was forced to relieve him of his weapon. I trust his skull is not so badly cracked; I but wished to pacify his war-like inclinations." Nione interrupted with a gale of silvery laughter. Her merriment, the thrown-back head and pulsing throat, momentarily swept his senses with a surge of admiration. Whatever Shar was, she might be, but here was something human! "You burst the heaviest chains in my deepest Pits, find your way through endless corridors, wander through my halls at will and, unarmed, smite down one of the best warriors in my kingdom to force your way into the chambers of the Queen where no man has trod in years--then you apologize!" She rocked in unqueenly mirth. "You--are not afraid?" he asked softly. "Of Duar? No! I know your history--the part known to men--too well! You are no evil ravisher or torturer of women. Of Duar the Accursed--perhaps--a little! There may be demons in your shadow I care not to see!" "Then in the Names of the Gods, get me something to eat!" swore the ex-captive. "I starve, woman!" He flung the sword carelessly on the silken coverlets of the royal couch. * * * * *