The two young noblemen rose to leave, greatly relieved by Jaltor's explanation, but still concerned. After they were gone, the monarch said to Alurna:
"I know you must be worn out from your long journey from Sephar. But sit there a little longer, if you will, and tell me the circumstances of my brother's death."
It required the better part of an hour for the dark-haired princess to relate what had taken place in Sephar nearly three moons before. She spoke often of Jotan during the account, and the tenderness in her eyes at mention of his name told Ammad's king more than she realized. And when she told of Dylara's disappearance and the possibility that Sadu had devoured her, Jaltor caught the unconscious satisfaction in her tone.
For a little while after she had finished, Jaltor sat staring thoughtfully into his wine goblet. Then: "Urim's mistake was to coddle that rascally high priest. In Ammad the priesthood is no problem at all; we keep them few in numbers and with no power to create unrest. Long ago I put a stop to the Games honoring the God-Whose-Name-May-Not-Be-Spoken-Aloud.... Perhaps some day I shall find a means of avenging the cowardly assassination of Urim, your father and my brother."
He smiled gravely into her eyes. "Do not worry about Jotan, my princess. Soon, I hope, he will be free again and you shall have your chance to win him."
Alurna's gray-green eyes flashed momentarily ... and then she too smiled. "Ammad's king is a wise and understanding man," she murmured.
Jaltor straightened and put down his goblet. "And now I shall show you to the suite of rooms which I ordered made ready for your use. Come."
For a long time after the slave woman detailed to serve her had gone, Alurna lay wide-eyed on the soft bed. Moonlight through the room's wide window formed a solid square on the floor, and in its ghostly radiance the furnishings seemed shadowy and unreal.