"Stand up! Are you a man?"
Argo's legs would barely support him, but he struggled to get himself erect. With a wrench, Tarrano tore the robe from Argo's chest.
"Master! Master! Have mercy!"
In Tarrano's hand I saw a needle-like piece of steel. A dagger, yet it was more like a needle.
"Master—Oh——"
Tarrano had stabbed it gently into the man's chest. A mere prick into the flesh, and a tiny drop of blood oozed out.
For a moment Argo stood swaying. Eyes white-rimmed with mortal terror as he stupidly looked down at the drop of blood. A moment, then the injected poison took effect. He tottered, flung his arms above his head and fell. Lay writhing an instant; then twitching; and then quite still.
Tarrano turned away, his face impassive. "Unfortunate. He was a good man in many ways—I shall be sorry to lose his services." He saw me with my arm around Elza, and he frowned.
"So?"
Instinctively, involuntarily—and I hated myself for it—I dropped my arm.