Swiftly then Jason willed himself into the hunting lodge where sat Kalamita, dressed or undressed as one might prefer to express it, for the occasion, in a huge chair draped with the black and tanhide of some savage creature; Gor, her giant attendant by her side. Fire--the fire of delayed purpose burned in her tawny eyes--there was the suppressed litheness of the predatory creature already scenting the kill in her every movement, the tremor of suppressed emotion in her words. "Thou understandest, Gor, that when this one comes before me, I shall demand that we speak together alone. And I have given word to the guardsmen that his men shall be surrounded and at a word from me, after my purpose is accomplished, all save one be put to the sword. After a time as we speak together I shall simulate anger at some word of his, to the speaking of which I shall lead him by taunting speech, and then fling thyself upon him and bind him. This is clear?" "Aye, mistress, Gor hears and obeys," said Gor, curling back his heavy lips. Kalamita's breast rose and fell in a deep-caught breath. "See to it, then. Let there be no mistake." "Nay, mistress--when has Gor failed thee--or to do thy bidding?" "None fail me save once," said Kalamita. "Enough." * * * * * Outside, a trumpet blew a ruffling blast. There followed a pause, and then Cathur tricked out in his bravest armor, with the twin mountain peaks of Cathur on it done in blue stones, appeared in the doorway of the lodge between two Zollarian captains, and paused. "Cathur for Tamarizia seeks audience with Kalamita," the senior captain announced. For a moment the face of the woman twitched with some sudden emotion and then she replied, gripping the arm of her chair till her knuckles whitened. "Let Cathur approach." The captains fell back and disappeared. Koryphu advanced. A single pace before her he halted. "These tablets bring I from Jason, Mouthpiece of Zitu to Tamarizia, to Kalamita," he said, and placed Croft's message in her hand. She held them for a single instant, ere she hurled them to the floor. Her lips twitched, hardened, her tawny eyes glared. Once more, as in Berla, she was faced by an unexpected element in her plans. The thing on which she had counted to win her country's ends at least--to glut her own thirst for revenge in a measure, was here in the person of the man before her, withheld from her outstretched hand. Inwardly she raged as any vengeful person may rage when the object of their hatred escapes their vengeance--and doubly because, despite her assurance, Helmor had foretold some such ending to the meeting she had planned. But outwardly she strove for calm. "How are you called, man of Cathur, who come to listen to my demands and carry them to this strong man, who exerts not himself to come before me?" "Koryphu, brother of Kyphallos, woman of Zollaria," Koryphu replied in a somewhat husky voice.