Miela was ahead of me, and I ran after her along a hallway. The sound of scurrying footsteps sounded from overhead; a woman screamed.
A broad, curving stairway fronted us. I passed Miela halfway up, and, reaching the top, ran full into another man who darted from a doorway close by. The impact of my heavier body flung him backward to the floor. I leaped over him with a shout of warning to Miela, and ran on into the room.
A man was standing stock still in its center. It was Baar. He flung his knife at me as I appeared, but it went wild. Two other men were coming toward me from opposite sides of the room. I swung the bludgeon about me viciously, keeping them away. Suddenly Baar shouted a command, and before I could reach any one of them they had scurried away like rats.
A low bed with a huge canopy of silk stood against the wall. A woman knelt on the floor beside it, and against her knees huddled a little half‑grown boy.
I heard Miela's voice shouting in her own language. The sound of men running came from below. Then Miela's half‑hysterical laughter, and then the words: "They are running away, Alan—all of them. I have been calling you to bring me the light‑ray. And they are running away."
I turned to the bed, pushing its curtains aside, and then hurriedly closing them again with a shudder.
Miela was beside me.
"The king is dead, Miela. No—you must not look."
Her eyes widened; her hand went to her breast.
"There is one who needs you." I pointed to the woman on the floor.