"Look!" whispered Dylara, pointing.
Thin lines of moonlight formed a rectangle on the far wall, marking a doorway leading to open air. Quickly Trakor was across the kitchen and straining to lift the heavy bar from its catches.
And in that moment a sudden chorus of deep-throated shouts of alarm from beyond that door reached their ears.
CHAPTER XII
NO DEEPER DUNGEON
Jaltor, king of all Ammad, rose from his chair as his four visitors entered the apartment. Straight and tall he stood, his magnificent body in its purple-edged tunic seeming to dwarf all else within the room.
No one spoke. Curzad, captain of the palace guards, closed the door softly and stood with his back against it, arms folded and his rugged features empty of all expression.
It was Jotan, son of Garlud, who was the first to speak. The anger that showed in his burning eyes and the thrust of his chin thickened his words until they were more nearly a growl.
"What means this, Jaltor? Why was my party intercepted outside Ammad's walls and dragged here in secrecy? Why are we thus treated like common criminals? I demand an explanation!"