And he, Ghek, was to die for this theory.  Luud had decreed it.  The injustice of it overwhelmed him with rage.  But he was helpless.  There was no escape.  Beyond the enclosure the banths awaited him; within, his own kind, equally as merciless and ferocious.  Among them there was no such thing as love, or loyalty, or friendship—­they were just brains.  He might kill Luud; but what would that profit him?  Another king would be loosed from his sealed chamber and Ghek would be killed.  He did not know it but he would not even have the poor satisfaction of satisfied revenge, since he was not capable of feeling so abstruse a sentiment.

Ghek, mounted upon his rykor, paced the floor of the tower chamber in which he had been ordered to remain.  Ordinarily he would have accepted the sentence of Luud with perfect equanimity, since it was but the logical result of reason; but now it seemed different.  The stranger woman had bewitched him.  Life appeared a pleasant thing—­there were great possibilities in it.  The dream of the ultimate brain had receded into a tenuous haze far in the background of his thoughts.

At that moment there appeared in the doorway of the chamber a red warrior with naked sword.  He was a male counterpart of the prisoner whose sweet voice had undermined the cold, calculating reason of the kaldane.

“Silence!” admonished the newcomer, his straight brows gathered in an ominous frown and the point of his longsword playing menacingly before the eyes of the kaldane.  “I seek the woman, Tara of Helium.  Where is she?  If you value your life speak quickly and speak the truth.”

If he valued his life!  It was a truth that Ghek had but just learned.  He thought quickly.  After all, a great brain is not without its uses.  Perhaps here lay escape from the sentence of Luud.

“You are of her kind?” he asked.  “You come to rescue her?”

“Yes.”

“Listen, then.  I have befriended her, and because of this I am to die.  If I help you to liberate her, will you take me with you?”

Gahan of Gathol eyed the weird creature from crown to foot—­the perfect body, the grotesque head, the expressionless face.  Among such as these had the beautiful daughter of Helium been held captive for days and weeks.

“If she lives and is unharmed,” he said, “I will take you with us.”

“When they took her from me she was alive and unharmed,” replied Ghek.  “I cannot say what has befallen her since.  Luud sent for her.”

“Who is Luud?  Where is he?  Lead me to him.”  Gahan spoke quickly in tones vibrant with authority.

“Come, then,” said Ghek, leading the way from the apartment and down a stairway toward the underground burrows of the kaldanes.  “Luud is my king.  I will take you to his chambers.”

“Hasten!” urged Gahan.

“Sheathe your sword,” warned Ghek, “so that should we pass others of my kind I may say to them that you are a new prisoner with some likelihood of winning their belief.”