“Murdered.”
“How?” I asked.
“A sword had been run through his body—from behind, I think. He lay upon his face.”
“Go at once and inform Kamlot; tell him to replace the lookout and investigate his death, then to report to me.”
Shaken by this ominous news, I entered the quarters of the women. They were huddled together in one cabin, pale and frightened, but outwardly calm.
“Have you found Duare?” one of them asked immediately.
“No,” I replied, “but I have discovered another mystery—the ongyan, Moosko, is missing and with him the Vepajan, Vilor.”
“Vepajan!” exclaimed Byea, the woman who had questioned me concerning Duare. “Vilor is no Vepajan.”
“What do you mean?” I demanded. “If he is not a Vepajan, what is he?”
“He is a Thoran spy,” she replied. “He was sent to Vepaja long ago to steal the secret of the longevity serum, and when we were captured the klangan took him, also, by mistake. We learned this, little by little, aboard the Sovong.”