“It befell that as I rode with a dozen of my warriors along the western border of Gathol searching for zitidars that had strayed from my herds, we were set upon and surrounded by a great company of Manatorians.  They overpowered us, though not before half our number was slain and the balance helpless from wounds.  And so I was brought a prisoner to Manataj, a distant city of Manator, and there sold into slavery.  A woman bought me—­a princess of Manataj whose wealth and position were unequaled in the city of her birth.  She loved me and when her husband discovered her infatuation she beseeched me to slay him, and when I refused she hired another to do it.  Then she married me; but none would have aught to do with her in Manataj, for they suspected her guilty knowledge of her husband’s murder.  And so we set out from Manataj for Manatos accompanied by a great caravan bearing all her worldly goods and jewels and precious metals, and on the way she caused the rumor to be spread that she and I had died.  Then we came to Manator instead, she taking a new name and I the name A-Sor, that we might not be traced through our names.  With her great wealth she bought me a post in The Jeddak’s Guard and none knows that I am not a Manatorian, for she is dead.  She was beautiful, but she was a devil.”

“And you never sought to return to your native city?” asked Gahan.

“Never has the hope been absent from my heart, or my mind empty of a plan,” replied Tasor.  “I dream of it by day and by night, but always must I return to the same conclusion—­that there can be but a single means for escape.  I must wait until Fortune favors me with a place in a raiding party to Gathol.  Then, once within the boundaries of my own country, they shall see me no more.”

“Perhaps your opportunity lies already within your grasp,” said Gahan, “has not your fealty to your own Jed been undermined by years of association with the men of Manator.”  The statement was half challenge.

“And my Jed stood before me now,” cried Tasor, “and my avowal could be made without violating his confidence, I should cast my sword at his feet and beg the high privilege of dying for him as my sire died for his sire.”

There could be no doubt of his sincerity nor any that he was cognizant of Gahan’s identity.  The Jed of Gathol smiled.  “And if your Jed were here there is little doubt but that he would command you to devote your talents and your prowess to the rescue of the Princess Tara of Helium,” he said, meaningly.  “And he possessed the knowledge I have gained during my captivity he would say to you, ’Go, Tasor, to the pit where A-kor, son of Haja of Gathol, is confined and set him free and with him arouse the slaves from Gathol and march to The Gate of Enemies and offer your services to U-Thor of Manataj, who is wed to Haja of Gathol, and ask of him in return that he attack the palace of O-Tar and rescue Tara of Helium and when that thing is accomplished that he free the slaves of Gathol and furnish them with the arms and the means to return to their own country.’  That, Tasor of Gathol, is what Gahan your Jed would demand of you.”