Tamar helped himself to another serving from the pot on the table. "It's not the heat alone that's taken his appetite, Javan," he observed disagreeably. "Our friend is so eager for evening to come that he can think of nothing else. It is then, you know, that he will become the laughing-stock of all Sephar by asking Urim for a cave-girl to take as his mate."
An hour before, the three visitors from Ammad had left the palace audience hall and returned to their quarters. After bathing and getting into fresh tunics, they had sat down to food brought from the palace kitchens.
Rising, Jotan crossed the room, sank down on a pile of sleeping furs and pulled off his sandals. Then he lay down, covered his eyes with one arm and was soon asleep.
Presently Tamar and Javan finished eating. The latter at once sought his own couch; but Tamar remained at the table, deep in thought.
Two hours went by, and still Tamar remained there, head bowed in his hands. The slaves had long since cleared the table and departed, leaving the three men to themselves.
Abruptly the seated man raised his head, his expression that of one to whom a momentous idea has come. For a long moment he remained thus, then got silently to his feet and tip-toed to the door, let himself out and, despite the withering heat, started briskly toward the palace.
The four guards stationed at the entrance stiffened to attention as he approached. Tamar halted a few yards away and beckoned to one of them.
"Do you know me?" Tamar asked haughtily.
"Of course!" replied the young warrior humbly. "There is none in all Sephar who does not know Tamar of Ammad."
"Good. Take me at once to the quarters of the female slaves."