Soon they heard sounds of naked feet within the corridor, and into view, three abreast, came the former prisoners. At their head was Katon; beside him strode Vulcar, once captain of Urim's guards.
Tharn halted them just short of the arsenal. He ran his eyes along the ranks, and what he saw brought a smile of satisfaction to his lips.
As far back as his eyes could make out in the dimly lighted passageway were men. There were at least a hundred and fifty—perhaps more; all eager for weapons and a chance to use them.
The Cro-Magnard held up one hand to gain their attention. "Remember," he said, "march into the arena quickly and in silence. Do not so much as glance at the spectators until I give the signal. And when that signal comes, seek to kill only priests and warriors. To attack the people of Sephar without cause would only make them hate and fear us. We cannot fight an entire city.
"Come forward now—three each time. Once within the arena, take the places I give you."
Three entered the arms-room. To each went a bow, quiver of arrows, complete with shoulder band; a knife and a spear. Tharn then opened the outer door and passed them through, then pulled it shut and aided in arming the next three.
In that fashion twenty-seven were sent into the amphitheater before Tharn called a halt. Dimly, he could hear the rustling murmur from the packed stands, and he knew that all was well—thus far, at least.
He summoned Vulcar and Katon, now, gave them weapons identical to those issued to the others, and went with them into the arena, Rotark acting as door-keeper.
In a wide semi-circle at the far end of the sandy field stood the twenty-seven who had gone before them. They made a thin line, their backs close to the retaining wall, one end of which was almost directly below the loges occupied by Pryak and the Council of Priests. It was toward this section that Tharn and his two companions bent their steps.