The leader of Mo-sar's warriors permitted them to approach. "What do you here," he asked, "in the country of Mo-sar, so far from your own city?"
"We carry a message from Lu-don, the high priest, to Mo-sar," explained one.
"Is it a message of peace or of war?" asked the warrior.
"It is an offer of peace," replied the priest.
"And Lu-don is sending no warriors behind you?" queried the fighting man.
"We are alone," the priest assured him. "None in A-lur save Lu-don knows that we have come upon this errand."
"Then go your way," said the warrior.
"Who is that?" asked one of the priests suddenly, pointing toward the upper end of the lake at the point where the river from Jad-bal-lul entered it.
All eyes turned in the direction that he had indicated to see a lone warrior paddling rapidly into Jad-in-lul, the prow of his canoe pointing toward Tu-lur. The warriors and the priests drew into the concealment of the bushes on either side of the portage.
"It is the terrible man who called himself the Dor-ul-Otho," whispered one of the priests. "I would know that figure among a great multitude as far as I could see it."