Instantly the five guards grouped behind that section of the burning circle nearest the disturbance. They raised their spears ready for casting and one of the five hurled a burning branch across the narrow ribbon of open ground. "Now!" Ekbar grated. * * * * * Stooping, the three men raced for the encampment. They cleared the burning barrier at a bound, snatched up the nearest of the sleeping figures, muffling his face with his own sleeping furs before he could awaken, then turned and vanished into the jungle. So quickly had they acted, so swift and sure their motions, that none of the other sleepers so much as stirred and the guards never noticed. The instant the abductors had disappeared the moans stopped and the shaking foliage stilled. For a long time the guards continued to stand there waiting, but when no other disturbance materialized they sighed with relief and went back to the restless patrolling. Meanwhile Ekbar and his men were returning to their own camp, their captive with them. They drew him into a sheltered place under the trees, lighted a small fire that his expression might tell them if he answered their questions with lies and went to work on him. He was a young man, clear-eyed, intelligent and not at all frightened. He stared at his captors without recognition, obviously puzzled to find they were men of his own nationality. "What is your name?" rasped Ekbar, scowling menacingly. "Tykol--if that helps you any! What is the meaning of this? Who are you?" "I will ask the questions here!" Ekbar snapped. "And you will answer them if you wish to see Dyta, the sun, again! Do you understand?" "I understand well enough, but that does not mean I will tell you anything!" Without the slightest change of expression Ekbar whipped out the knife at his belt and sank three inches of the cold flint into one of the man's thighs. Tykol cried out involuntarily and struggled to free his arms from the vines binding them to his sides. Ekbar waited until his struggles ceased. A small stream of blood welled from the knife wound and began to drip against the leaves beneath. "What," said Ekbar, "are the names of the two young noblemen accompanying Jotan?" Tykol, his active mind racing, did not at once reply. It was clear these men meant no good to any of Jotan's followers. His cue was to simulate a certain amount of fear to satisfy them his answers were the truth until he could discover exactly what was afoot. Ekbar leaned forward and lifted his knife again. "Shall I give you a second taste of this?" he growled. Tykol appeared to flinch. "No," he mumbled. "I will tell you. Their names are Javan and Tamar." "How many men are with them?" "Thirty-seven." "You lie!" Ekbar snarled. "Fifty were in the party when it left Ammad." The young captive digested this information quickly. It proved these men were Ammadians like himself; how else could they have known that?