From his place at the table, Jotan watched the face of the princess as she spoke. She seemed vivid and forceful—much more so that any other woman he had ever met; and her beauty of face and figure was breath-taking. He resolved to become better acquainted with her.
The manner in which Tamar straightened at her last words, showed they had stung him—just why, was not altogether clear to Alurna.
"They are only brutes—animals!" he said heatedly. "They know nothing of such splendor—" he waved an arm to include the room's rich furnishings "—no tables or chairs, no soft covers on their cave floors. There are no walls to protect them from raids by their enemies; no ability in warfare beyond blind courage. They are half-naked savages—nothing more!"
A sudden commotion at the doorway caused the conversation to end here. A short, alert man with a hawk-like face and a distinct military bearing, strode into the room and bowed before Urim.
"Well, Vulcar," greeted the king, without rising, "what are you doing here?"
"I come," replied the warrior, "to report the capture of a young cave-woman. A hunting party slew her mate and captured her a few marches from Sephar."
"Bring her in to us," Urim commanded. "I should like our visitors to see for themselves what cave people are like."
Vulcar bowed again, then returned to the doorway and beckoned to someone outside.
Two Sepharian warriors entered, Dylara between them. She was disheveled and rumpled, the protecting skin of Jalok, the panther, was awry; but her head was unbowed, her shoulders erect, and her glance as haughty as that of the princess, Alurna, herself.