“I am to kill her,” he whispered, looking fearfully around. “Nutus merely wishes to see the body that he may know his commands have been executed. I am now supposed to be gone to the spot where we have her hidden that I may fetch her in secrecy to Dusar. None is to know that she has ever been in the keeping of a Dusarian. I do not need to tell you what would befall Dusar should Ptarth and Helium and Kaol ever learn the truth.” The jaws of the listener at the ventilator clicked together with a vicious snap. Before he had but guessed at the identity of the subject of this conversation. Now he knew. And they were to kill her! His muscular fingers clenched until the nails bit into the palms. “And you wish me to go with you while you fetch her to Dusar,” Vas Kor was saying. “Where is she?” Astok bent close and whispered into the other’s ear. The suggestion of a smile crossed the cruel features of Vas Kor. He realized the power that lay within his grasp. He should be a jed at least. “And how may I help you, my Prince?” asked the older man suavely. “I cannot kill her,” said Astok. “Issus! I cannot do it! When she turns those eyes upon me my heart becomes water.” Vas Kor’s eyes narrowed. “And you wish—” He paused, the interrogation unfinished, yet complete. Astok nodded. “_You_ do not love her,” he said. “But I love my life—though I am only a lesser noble,” he concluded meaningly. “You shall be a greater noble—a noble of the first rank!” exclaimed Astok. “I would be a jed,” said Vas Kor bluntly. Astok hesitated. “A jed must die before there can be another jed,” he pleaded. “Jeds have died before,” snapped Vas Kor. “It would doubtless be not difficult for you to find a jed you do not love, Astok—there are many who do not love you.” Already Vas Kor was commencing to presume upon his power over the young prince. Astok was quick to note and appreciate the subtle change in his lieutenant. A cunning scheme entered his weak and wicked brain. “As you say, Vas Kor!” he exclaimed. “You shall be a jed when the thing is done,” and then, to himself: “Nor will it then be difficult for me to find a jed I do not love.” “When shall we return to Dusar?” asked the noble. “At once,” replied Astok. “Let us get under way now—there is naught to keep you here?” “I had intended sailing on the morrow, picking up such recruits as the various Dwars of the Roads might have collected for me, as we returned to Dusar.” “Let the recruits wait,” said Astok. “Or, better still, come you to Dusar upon the _Thuria_, leaving the Kalksus to follow and pick up the recruits.” “Yes,” acquiesced Vas Kor; “that is the better plan. Come; I am ready,” and he rose to accompany Astok to the latter’s flier. The listener at the ventilator came to his feet slowly, like an old man. His face was drawn and pinched and very white beneath the light copper of his skin. She was to die! And he helpless to avert the tragedy. He did not even know where she was imprisoned.