The guards came on unsuspecting, but this time there were three of them, talking and jesting. Tyr came out of the shadows with naked hands and he hit so fast that one guard writhed on the stone street before the others had their guns out. Another dropped with splintered ribs. The third opened his mouth to scream. Two big hands took his throat and vised on it. Tyr dropped the guard and nodded to the prisoners, "Keep moving. Zarman waits for me around the corner." There were only two more guards. Tyr charged low. His fists pumped. Tyr shook himself, standing alone in the alley, with the moon above beaming down at him, bathing him in silver. The street was deserted except for a white face above a dark cloak, and Tyr. The girl had a gun in her hand. "Shoot," Tyr said, tensing himself. "Goose," whispered the girl, and bent her head to watch her hand holster her weapon. "Why do you not shoot?" "Oh, I don't know. I always was a sucker for an underdog." But there was another explanation in her dark eyes looking up at him that made Tyr blink. He caught her elbow and walked with her around the corner. Zarman and the others were ranged along the wall in darkness. Zarman came forward and looked at the girl, and whispered, "She is an _ardth_." "Forget her. Tell me of yourself." "The Old Ones caught us easily. Otho blabbed with his traitorous mouth. They came and took us, though we fought." "If I set you free, what can you do for your freedom?" "We can fight, god Tyr. We can burrow like the mole, and battle like a cornered rat. Try us!" Katha went around the corner for the key to the manacles. She searched the implementa of the guards and brought it back proudly. The men lowered the chains and manacles into a hole they dug beneath the cobblestones. They reset the stones and kicked the dirt into crevices between them. One of them took the gun Tyr handed him. Zarman made a motion to the men, and they faded out of sight. "We go underground. Into the old tunnels dug during the war with the _ardth_. Only the Trylla know those labyrinths." "Good. I shall get word to you." Katha sighed when Zarman was out of sight. Tyr asked dryly as they walked, "Why did you not shoot me? You had your gun out." "That was for the guards--in case your fists were not enough." "But you are an _ardth_!" The girl sighed and said, "It is such a nice moon. And we are almost at my rooms." She laughed softly, and Tyr wondered why. III Tyr had never seen such sybaritic luxury as was revealed when he let the goldthread drapes rustle across the arched doorway behind him. Strewn cushions, plump and fat, with red-and-white worked in thin curves across their surfaces; the blue tinted walls that radiated warmth; the richly toned murals and the hidden lights bespoke limitless wealth. Low bookcases crammed the walls. Perfume pervaded the cool air. It was a feminine scent, cloying, lingering.