The cave lord took a position less than four paces from the stone barrier at his back. Above him sat Pryak, high priest and ruler of Sephar, deep in conversation with Orbar.
Now, the second contingent of warriors began to issue from the arms-room. In groups of three, seconds apart, they emerged and took up positions near the wall at the arena's opposite end.
When an equal number were at either end of the enclosure, the influx of armed men became heavier. In groups of five, now, they appeared and formed a second row a few feet in front of the others and facing in the same direction. There were fully four score in the open by this time—and still they came.
Tharn knew the moment was fast approaching when suspicion would become aroused by this unprecedented concentration of warriors. Already a few priests were peering down at them, puzzled expressions on their faces. The buzz of conversation began to fade; and here and there spectators were rising to their feet.
Pryak stood up, suddenly, and leaned over the railing.
"What means this?" he asked of Orbar. "Does Wotar mean to end the Games with one battle? There are too many men on the sands; send someone to investigate."
Tharn, overhearing, knew he dared wait no longer. Throwing back his head, he sent the hair-raising battle cry of his tribe reverberating throughout the entire structure. As the notes of that horrendous cry rose on the still air, he pivoted about and sent a slender arrow leaping from his bow full at the head of Pryak, king of Sephar!
It is no mean tribute to Pryak's nimbleness to tell that he dodged that arrow. And dodge it he did—falling back into the arms of his retinue as death passed a finger's breadth above his sparse locks to transfix an unfortunate under-priest.
The cave-man's cry was the awaited signal, releasing all the pent-up hate and fury within the hearts of those who acknowledged him as leader. As one man, a hundred warriors turned and loosed a shower of arrows at the thin line of guards and priests above them. The instant those flint-tipped messengers were released, those rebels nearest the walls knelt, braced themselves and became living ladders over which their comrades swarmed to gain the seats above.