"Below! See—warriors approaching the Tower. Was it Tauthus' plan to send a detachment after us, Ramaíya?"
"It was not!" said Ramey bluntly. He followed the direction of his friend's gaze, stared, and pulled back from the opening. "I don't like this."
"What's wrong, Ramey?"
"If I'm not mistaken, that is a detachment of Lord Ravana's men. They're heading for this tower. We're trapped in here!" He thought swiftly for a moment. "Well—no use standing here worrying about. There's only one thing to do. Get to the speaking room and let Vibhishana put on his little broadcast. If need be, we can call for assistance from topside. Tauthus will hear us and send a force to our relief. Come on!"
And at redoubled speed, he plunged forward up the staircase. Past the fifth level and the sixth. To the last chamber. At its entrance he halted triumphantly.
"We ought to be all right now. Let them enter if they want to. We can talk as long and loud as we wish, and they can't stop us. Moreover, if they try to rush us—"
A grating voice from behind interrupted him.
"I think they will not rush you, Lord Ramaíya. My guardsmen came to the tower's base for only one purpose. To bottle you within its walls."
And Vibhishana cried, "Ravana!"
The Lord Ravana smiled. It was a smile that had no amusement in it, and little of brotherly affection. He said, "Ah—it is my own blood-brother! Greetings, Lord Vibhishana. These are giddy heights, are they not, for one grown used to the cool depths of dungeons? Nay, Ramaíya!" His cry cracked like a whip. "Reach not for the weapon-which-thunders! Lord Ravana needs not experience the same danger twice to learn its nature. Hurl it to the floor! Aye, and you, too—"