because I dared speak the truth of O-Tar the jeddak,
to one of his officers."

"And your punishment?" asked Turan.

"I do not know. O-Tar has not yet spoken. Doubtless the games--perhaps
the full ten, for O-Tar does not love A-Kor, his son."

"You are the jeddak's son?" asked Turan.

"I am the son of O-Tar and of a slave, Haja of Gathol, who was a
princess in her own land."

Turan looked searchingly at the speaker. A son of Haja of Gathol! A son
of his mother's sister, this man, then, was his own cousin. Well did
Gahan remember the mysterious disappearance of the Princess Haja and an
entire utan of her personal troops. She had been upon a visit far from
the city of Gathol and returning home had vanished with her whole
escort from the sight of man. So this was the secret of the seeming
mystery? Doubtless it explained many other similar disappearances that
extended nearly as far back as the history of Gathol. Turan scrutinized
his companion, discovering many evidences of resemblance to his
mother's people. A-Kor might have been ten years younger than he, but
such differences in age are scarce accounted among a people who seldom
or never age outwardly after maturity and whose span of life may be a
thousand years.

"And where lies Gathol?" asked Turan.

"Almost due east of Manator," replied A-Kor.

"And how far?"

"Some twenty-one degrees it is from the city of Manator to the city of
Gathol," replied A-Kor; "but little more than ten degrees between the
boundaries of the two countries. Between them, though, there lies a
country of torn rocks and yawning chasms."

Well did Gahan know this country that bordered his upon the west--even
the ships of the air avoided it because of the treacherous currents
that rose from the deep chasms, and the almost total absence of safe
landings. He knew now where Manator lay and for the first time in long
weeks the way to his own Gathol, and here was a man, a fellow prisoner,
in whose veins flowed the blood of his own ancestors--a man who knew
Manator; its people, its customs and the country surrounding it--one
who could aid him, with advice at least, to find a plan for the rescue
of Tara of Helium and for escape. But would A-Kor--could he dare broach
the subject? He could do no less than try.

"And O-Tar you think will sentence you to death?" he asked; "and why?"

"He would like to," replied A-Kor, "for the people chafe beneath his
iron hand and their loyalty is but the loyalt