"They have my mate here," Tharn explained briefly. "I came to get her."
"And now they have you both!"
Tharn's eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened. "They will not keep us," he said simply.
The other smiled a little. "I am Katon," he said, after a slight pause. "Who are you?"
Tharn told him, and the conversation lapsed for a while.
Meanwhile, a guard had entered the great room and approached Vulcar, the one who had reminded Tharn of Toa, the hawk. The two men spoke together for a few moments, then the captain of the guards came up behind Tharn and dropped a hand roughly on the cave-man's shoulder.
Tharn, in the midst of strangers, the memory of last night's battle still fresh in his mind, acted instinctively.
Bounding from his stool, he whirled on the startled Vulcar. Before the stupefied captain could lift a hand in defense, he found himself flat on his back, two knees pinning his shoulders to the floor, while iron fingers were shutting off his breath.
The entire body of prisoners and attendants was thrown into confusion. One of the guards leaped to the side of the cave-man and would have driven a spear into his back had not Katon vaulted the table and shoved him sprawling.
As though by signal, the prisoners threw themselves upon the handful of guards, and the room became a seething inferno of flailing arms and threshing legs, the four walls echoing muffled shouts, screams, curses.