“He is your son, O-Tar,” E-Thas reminded him, “nor is there a more beloved man in Manator—­I but speak to you of facts which may not be ignored, and I dare do so because only when you realize the truth may you seek a cure for the ills that draw about your throne.”

O-Tar had slumped down upon his bench—­suddenly he looked shrunken and tired and old.  “Cursed be the day,” he cried, “that saw those three strangers enter the city of Manator.  Would that U-Dor had been spared to me.  He was strong—­my enemies feared him; but he is gone—­dead at the hands of that hateful slave, Turan; may the curse of Issus be upon him!”

“My jeddak, what shall we do?” begged E-Thas.  “Cursing the slave will not solve your problems.”

“But the great feast and the marriage is but three days off,” plead O-Tar.  “It shall be a great gala occasion.  The warriors and the chiefs all know that—­it is the custom.  Upon that day gifts and honors shall be bestowed.  Tell me, who are most bitter against me?  I will send you among them and let it be known that I am planning rewards for their past services to the throne.  We will make jeds of chiefs and chiefs of warriors, and grant them palaces and slaves.  Eh, E-Thas?”

The other shook his head.  “It will not do, O-Tar.  They will have nothing of your gifts or honors.  I have heard them say as much.”

“What do they want?” demanded O-Tar.

“They want a jeddak as brave as the bravest,” replied E-Thas, though his knees shook as he said it.

“They think I am a coward?” cried the jeddak.

“They say you are afraid to go to the apartments of O-mai the Cruel.”

For a long time O-Tar sat, his head sunk upon his breast, staring blankly at the floor.

“Tell them,” he said at last in a hollow voice that sounded not at all like the voice of a great jeddak; “tell them that I will go to the chambers of O-Mai and search for Turan the slave.”

CHAPTER XXI

A RISK FOR LOVE

“Ey, ey, he is a craven and he called me ’doddering fool’!” The speaker was I-Gos and he addressed a knot of chieftains in one of the chambers of the palace of O-Tar, Jeddak of Manator:  “If A-Kor was alive there were a jeddak for us!”

“Who says that A-Kor is dead?” demanded one of the chiefs.

“Where is he then?” asked I-Gos.  “Have not others disappeared whom O-Tar thought too well beloved for men so near the throne as they?”

The chief shook his head.  “And I thought that, or knew it, rather; I’d join U-Thor at The Gate of Enemies.”

“S-s-st,” cautioned one; “here comes the licker of feet,” and all eyes were turned upon the approaching E-Thas.

“Kaor, friends!” he exclaimed as he stopped among them, but his friendly greeting elicited naught but a few surly nods.  “Have you heard the news?” he continued, unabashed by treatment to which he was becoming accustomed.