But most often Tharn's eyes went to Dylara. He saw her stagger now and then from sheer physical exhaustion and his heart went out to her. How he would have loved to wrest her from that spear-bristling line of warriors! There was no way to do that, however. A barrage of arrows could have cleared away those men directly around her, but a rope about her wrist had its other end bound about the arm of the man beside her; and even had Tharn leaped down on the heels of his arrows to slash away that rope spears might fell either or both of them.
No, for all his giant strength and agility he was as helpless to aid the girl of his choice as though miles lay between them.
Finally the time came when Tharn realized Ammad was only a short distance ahead. He must resign himself to the unescapable fact that Dylara and Trakor were going to be taken beyond those walls whether he liked the idea or not. This meant his energies and cunning must be diverted to a different channel; and with this in mind the cave lord halted on a broad leafy branch above the column, waiting while the twin lines moved ahead at a snail's pace.
A pair of tall husky Ammadian warriors were last in line. One of them carried a blazing torch, the other had a heavy pack about his shoulders. They plodded along, weariness evident in the lines of bent shoulders and dragging feet. The one with the pack seemed especially tired and every fifty or sixty feet he would pause momentarily to shift his burden to a new position. Each time this happened the distance between him and his companion became a matter of ten or fifteen feet until, pack adjusted, the man hurried forward to join his unheeding partner.
A wry smile touched Tharn's firm lips. With uncanny ease he slipped to the ground and moved silently along behind the wall of undergrowth flanking the trail, his course parallel with the column's rear guard.
A bend in the path was coming up. Already most of the column had made the turn and was out of sight. Quickly Tharn raced ahead until he was at a point no more than ten feet from the turn. Crouching here, concealed by a maze of creepers and brush, he picked up a short length of dead branch and waited.
As the last two Ammadians reached a position directly opposite to the crouching cave lord, Tharn thrust out the branch two or three inches above the path's surface and squarely between the legs of the pack bearer.
The man's swinging foot struck against the unyielding wood and, weighted by the heavy pack and weary from the long hours without rest, he stumbled and fell headlong.
His companion, aroused by the thump of a falling body and a string of curses rising on the night air, turned back and bent to help him up.