'We are fugitives, Landris. We have run away from him, as you yourself did once, and for the same reason—because we could put up with his treatment no longer. He condemned me to the cage of the krudias—his great monstrous bats—but by good chance these brave gentlemen, who are my companions, rescued me, and we all had to flee for our lives in consequence.'
Again there was a conference in low tones, and what seemed to be an argument ensued. At last the one called Landris said aloud, 'I tell you I will have it so! I know this Malandris to be an honest man, and once he saved my life; and I insist that he and those with him shall go before the chief and speak for themselves.'
'Oh, very well, if you insist!' the other replied. 'But, recollect, if there is trouble about it, it is your doing, not mine.'
'You will have to be bound and blindfolded, Malandris—all of you,' Landris now said. 'I will conduct you to our leader, and you can tell your story to him. If he believes that you speak the truth he will not harm you—indeed, he may welcome you if so be that you care to join him and fight against Agrando, even as he did with me.'
'Lead us to him, friend Landris. That is all I ask,' Malandris said.
A few moments later the fugitives found themselves in the midst of a crowd of rough-looking men, who climbed down from the adjoining rocks, bringing with them lanterns and pieces of rope.
They were certainly not by any means of attractive appearance, and their apparel was of the coarsest. Their hair and beards, too, were unkempt, and their manners gruff and surly. But they had the appearance of alert, hardy veterans of the wilds; and in their handling of their prisoners there was nothing cruel or insulting.
The one named Landris greeted Malandris with quiet friendliness, and his companion—the one who had called upon them to surrender—also came and conversed with the prisoners. His name, it appeared, was Duralda. He was a fine, picturesque figure of a man, with bearded face, shaggy hair, and dressed in what had probably once been a rich costume, but had evidently seen its best days. This man examined and questioned each prisoner in turn, but showed no resentment when, acting upon a hint from Malandris, they told him civilly that they preferred to tell what they had to tell to his chief.
Their wings and other belongings were packed up by the band—of whom it was now seen there were fully a hundred—and in due time the whole party commenced a march over very difficult, rocky ground.
At the end of some two hours a halt was called. They were then blindfolded, and the march resumed in slow fashion, each captive being led by two guards, one on each side.