“I have seen you before,” he said. “I saw you in the arena at the
Mahars’ city of Phutra when the thipdars dragged the tarag from you and
your mate. I never understood that. Afterward they put me in the arena
with two warriors from Gombul.”
He smiled in recollection.
“It would have been the same had there been ten warriors from Gombul. I
slew them, winning my freedom. Look!”
He half turned his left shoulder toward me, exhibiting the newly healed
scar of the Mahars’ branded mark.
“Then,” he continued, “as I was returning to my people I met some of
them fleeing. They told me that one called Hooja the Sly One had come
and seized our village, putting our people into slavery. So I hurried
hither to learn the truth, and, sure enough, here I found Hooja and his
wicked men living in my village, and my father’s people but slaves
among them.
“I was discovered and captured, but Hooja did not kill me. I am the
chief’s son, and through me he hoped to win my father’s warriors back
to the village to help him in a great war he says that he will soon
commence.
“Among his prisoners is Dian the Beautiful One, whose brother, Dacor
the Strong One, chief of Amoz, once saved my life when he came to
Thuria to steal a mate. I helped him capture her, and we are good
friends. So when I learned that Dian the Beautiful One was Hooja’s
prisoner, I told him that I would not aid him if he harmed her.
“Recently one of Hooja’s warriors overheard me talking with another
prisoner. We were planning to combine all the prisoners, seize weapons,
and when most of Hooja’s warriors were away, slay the rest and retake
our hilltop. Had we done so we could have held it, for there are only
two entrances—the narrow tunnel at one end and the steep path up the
cliffs at the other.
“But when Hooja heard what we had planned he was very angry, and
ordered that I die. They bound me hand and foot and placed me in a cave
until all the warriors should return to witness my death; but while
they were away I heard someone calling me in a muffled voice which
seemed to come from the wall of the cave. When I replied the voice,
which was a woman’s, told me that she had overheard all that had passed
between me and those who had brought me thither, and that she was
Dacor’s sister and would find a way to help me.
“Presently a little hole appeared in the wall at the point from which
the voice had come. After a time I saw a woman’s hand digging with a
bit of stone. Dacor’s sister made a hole in the wall between the cave
where I lay bound and that in which she had been confined, and soon she
was by my side and had cut my bonds.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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