"But first I was from Tjanath," said the girl.
"What do you mean?" he demanded.
"As a little child I was stolen from Tjanath," replied Tavia. "All my life since I have been a slave in the palace of Tul Axtar, Jeddak of Jahar. Only recently I escaped in the same flier upon which we arrived at Tjanath. Near the dead city of Xanator I landed and was captured by the green men of Torquas. This warrior, who is Hadron of Hastor, rescued me from them. Together we came to Tjanath, expecting a friendly reception."
"Who are your people in Tjanath?" demanded the official.
"I do not know," replied Tavia; "I was very young. I remember practically nothing about my life in Tjanath."
"What is your name?"
"Tavia."
The man's interest in her story, which had seemed wholly perfunctory, seemed suddenly altered and galvanized.
"You know nothing about your parents or your family?" he demanded.
"Nothing," replied Tavia.