"I failed, Garlud." The words were barely audible. "Forgive me, my friend. They ... made me tell. I am ... old. Once they would not ... have been able...." Compassion came into Garlud's expression. "Heglar, Heglar," he said softly. "You know I had nothing to do with your attempt to kill Jaltor. What have I done to you that makes you say this awful thing about me?" Was there a flicker of remorse in those faded blue eyes? If so, it was gone before Garlud could be sure. "It ... is useless, Garlud," the feeble voice whispered. "I had to ... tell him." "You are dying, Heglar." Sweat stood out on Garlud's forehead. "Would you face the God-Whose-Name-May-Not-Be-Spoken-Aloud with a lie upon your lips?" "I ... I----" The noble's hand closed on the old man's shoulder. "The truth, Heglar! Who is the real one behind this?" The aged eyes closed and Heglar's face began to work. "No! No! I have ... no----" "You must tell us, Heglar! Speak, man!" Once more the lips opened. "I--I ... Rhoa!" Abruptly Heglar's head rolled to one side, his body went limp and with his mate's name on his lips he died. * * * * * For a long moment there was silence within the room. Garlud stood as though turned to stone, his eyes fastened unbelievably on the lifeless face of the old man. It was a tortured face; death had brought peace to it. What terrible compulsion, Garlud wondered dully, had forced an honorable man to die with a lie upon his lips? "You have heard, noble Garlud?" It was Jaltor's deep voice--stern, unflinching, empty of feeling. Garlud looked up into those piercing black eyes and despite himself he felt a tiny chill move along his spine. "I heard, Most-High." Jaltor passed a hand over his own face--a slow pressing gesture that momentarily left the skin white beneath its tan. "For the sake of our long friendship," he said thickly, "I am prepared to temper justice with mercy. Admit your part in the plot and I will spare your life. Although," he added, "I will leave you nothing else. Your wealth is confiscate, your palace will go to the noble next in line, as is our custom, and you shall be turned from Ammad. Your king has spoken!" "And if I persist in my claim of innocence?" Garlud said evenly. "The evidence is plain. You will be put to death." "Very well." Garlud did not hesitate. "Order your guards to kill me then, my friend! I shall die as honorably as I lived during the years when we were friends." Jaltor's jaw hardened. "And what of Jotan?" he said coldly. Something akin to fear darkened Garlud's eyes. "My son? What of him? Surely your sense of justice has not so rotted that you would harm him!" Sudden rage twisted Jaltor's countenance. "No man speaks so to Jaltor of Ammad and lives!" Garlud's smile was undismayed. "Have you forgotten, Most-High. I have already been sentenced to death!" "And by your attitude," Jaltor shouted, "you have sentenced your son to the same fate." "On what grounds?"