Jotan ignored the cave-man. "We have been searching for you, Dylara," he said quietly. "Come, we shall return to Sephar at once."
Before she could frame a reply, Tharn had stepped in front of her. There followed a tense, electric moment of silence as the two men eyed each other.
"She is mine," Tharn said, without heat. "She goes with me."
Jotan gestured with one hand. In response, seven spears were leveled at the cave-man's naked chest.
"You are wrong, my friend," said the leader. "I am taking her with me. I have nothing against you; you may have your freedom if you go at once. Otherwise, you go back to Sephar as a prisoner. Resist, and my men will kill you."
Tharn was thinking rapidly. To attack eight armed men would be a fool's act. Alurna was waiting for him back there in the jungle. And in Alurna he had that which would put to naught those seven spears.
Let this man take Dylara back to Sephar. Tharn had only to return with the princess Alurna and claim his reward from Urim. That reward was—Dylara! He knew Urim would keep his word, no matter what objections were offered by this man.
"Well?" The word was clipped, cold, impatient.
Without a word Tharn turned and leaped into the branches overhead. He had not dared to offer Dylara an encouraging sign, fearing to arouse the Sepharian's suspicions.
The cave-girl watched him go, disbelief uppermost in her mind. It was not like Tharn to give up so easily. But did she want him not to give up? She had thrilled to his strength, his agility and fearlessness during the encounter with Sadu. No other man could have thus faced the jungle king with empty hands—and lived.