"Let us hope for the games, then," I said.
"They are dull and stupid people here in Tjanath," said my companion. "The warriors have told me that sometimes many years elapse between games in the arena, but we may hope at least, for surely it would be better to die there with a good long sword in one's hand rather than to rot here in the darkness, or die The Death, whatever it may be."
"You are right," I said. "Let us beseech our ancestors that the Jed of Tjanath decrees games in the near future."
"So you are from Hastor," he said, musingly, after a moment's silence. "That is a long way from Tjanath. Pressing must have been the service that brought you so far afield!"
"I was searching for Jahar," I replied.
"Perhaps you are as well off that you found Tjanath first," he said, "for, though I am a Jaharian, I cannot boast the hospitality of Jahar."
"You think I would not have been accorded a cordial welcome there, then?" I asked.
"By my first ancestor, no," he exclaimed most emphatically. "Tul Axtar would have had you in the pits before he asked your name, and the pits of Jahar are not as light nor as pleasant as these."
"I did not intend that Tul Axtar should know that I was visiting him," I said.
"You are a spy?" he asked.