Ramey stared at the squad leader, eyes widening.
"It—it's Thalakka! But why—?"
"Traitor!" growled Tauthus deep in his throat. "I knew we should never place faith in a cursed Videlian. But Tauthus of Cush knows how to deal with traitors!" His hand flashed to his shoulder, he drew an arrow from his quiver, set it to bowstring, aimed....
"Wait!" Ramey's hand tensed about the Copt's arm. "This is no treachery but a most courageous deed. See! At the slave-pens—"
For suddenly the intention of Captain Thalakka was clear. Full across the courtyard had he and his men marched unchallenged ... past posts they might have taken ... and up to the gates of the slave-pens. And now the little detachment whirled, formed a tight circle before the gates—and a cry rose as Thalakka gripped the sole guardian of those gates, hurled him to the ground, and wrenched the keys from his belt!
In an instant, all was bedlam! Too late the Videlian guards realized what had happened, identified this enemy in their very midst. Men turned from the walls, a hundred bows turned on the tiny knot of venturers. Feathered death spangled the court.
But the key had grated in the lock! And the gates were open. And Thalakka's voice was raising in clarion cry.
"Earthmen! Rise! Freedom awaits the bold—"
His cry ended in midsentence, his mouth formed a round O of astonishment ... a circle from which, suddenly, a flood of crimson gushed. His hands leaped to his breast and tore at a shaft buried there almost to its feathered end ... then he sank to his knees, rolled over, and lay still.