Unmindful of the tumult about him, Katon knelt beside Tharn and the now weakly struggling Vulcar. Grasping the Cro-Magnon's steel-thewed wrists, he tugged with all his more than ordinary strength to loosen the awful grip.
"Stop it, Tharn!" he panted. "Let go! If he dies they will kill you!"
Slowly the red mist of anger faded as Katon's words reached the savage brain; and slowly, almost regretfully, Tharn obeyed.
As he rose from the floor and stepped back, a large group of guards broke into the room and joined the fight between attendants and prisoners. With lusty swings of spear shafts the newcomers beat the battling captives into a semblance of order against one wall.
As for Vulcar—he lay where Tharn had left him, tortured lungs sucking air in great gulps as the livid hue of his face gradually faded. Vulcar had been very near to death.
Finally he got shakily to his feet, assisted by two of his men. For a full minute he could not speak as he swayed there, rubbing at the angry red welts where Tharn's merciless fingers had closed.
"Seize that madman!" he croaked at last; "seize and tie him! A few touches of the whip will teach him how to act!"
Before the hesitant warriors could act, Katon had stepped into the breach.
"Wait, Vulcar," he pleaded. "Do not have him whipped. The man is a barbarian; he believed you had attacked him, and acted so. Had he stopped to think, he would not have dared raise a hand against the mightiest fighter in all Sephar."