He looked up in time to catch the slight smile on Tharn's lips. No shadow of fear, no hint of concern clouded the cave-man's calm gray eyes. Limitless self-confidence, backed by superhuman strength and nerves of granite, had rendered impotent the ominous note in Katon's words.
The Sepharian felt a bit exasperated. What was the use of warning this headstrong wild-man of danger if danger meant nothing to him?
"Don't you understand?" he exclaimed. "The chance of either of us surviving the Games is so small that we may as well forget it."
Tharn's smile widened. "We are not dead yet. Much can happen before the Games begin. The rainy season is almost a moon away."
Katon gave it up. One could not make the blind see, nor the deaf hear. This barbarian would lose his smile when they put him in the arena with a hungry lion!
Tharn, seeking to change the subject, said, "I saw that this man, Urim, hates you, Katon. Is it because of him that you are here?"
There was a wry twist to Katon's lips. "Urim and I were once great friends. I came to Sephar from Huxla, a city of Ammad, where my father is ruler. Upon arriving here, I entered Urim's service as a common warrior. During a hunting trip, I saved him from being mauled by a wounded lion. In gratitude he put me in charge of Sephar's quarries—a position much sought after by Sepharian nobles.
"And then I met a girl—the daughter of a nobleman. She was very beautiful; and before long we were in love."
Katon seemed to have forgotten Tharn's presence. His speech was slow, his words toneless and deliberate. The cave-man was quick to sense the other's mental suffering as he recounted a painful chapter of his life.