Tamar was led to the second floor of the palace, and along a corridor to the wing housing the warriors of Urim. Rokor stopped before a narrow opening and pounded heavily on a closed door.
"Fordak!" he bellowed; "open up here! You have a visitor."
They heard someone moving about inside, and a second later the door swung back.
A thick-shouldered man, inclined to fatness about the middle, stood there, his coarse black hair tousled, eyes heavy with sleep.
"Who wants me?" he grunted.
"This is Tamar of Ammad," Rokor explained. "He has something for you."
Tamar interrupted. "You may leave me here, Rokor. I can find my way out when I have finished with Fordak."
When the guard had gone, Tamar turned to the man Nada had named. He found the fellow eyeing him respectfully.
"Fordak," said the man from Ammad, "I have need of a fearless warrior to do something for me. One who can do as instructed and, at the same time, keep his mouth shut. You were recommended as such. Will you help me?"