outward ease--for the right moment to
come. It came now with footsteps ringing sharply, halting before his
cell door.

With the noiseless speed of a hunting cat, Ross flung himself from
behind the door to a wall, where he would be hidden from the newcomer
for that necessary instant or two. If his attack was to be successful,
it must occur inside the room. He heard the sound of a bar being slid
out of its brackets, and he poised himself, the belt rippling from his
right hand.

The door was opening inward, and a man stood silhouetted against the
outer light. He muttered, looking toward the corner where Ross had
thrown his single garment in a roll which might just resemble, for the
needed second or two, a man curled in slumber. The man in the doorway
took the bait, coming forward far enough for Ross to send the door
slamming shut as he himself sprang with the belt aimed for the other's
head.

There was a startled cry, cut off in the middle as the belt plates met
flesh and bone in a crushing force. Luck was with him! Ross caught up
his kilt and belted it around him after he had made a hurried
examination of the body now lying at his feet. He was not sure that the
man was dead, but at any rate he was completely unconscious. Ross
stripped off the man's cloak, located his dagger, freed it from the belt
hook, and snapped it on his own.

Then inch by inch Ross edged open the door, peering through the crack.
As far as he could see, the hall was empty, so he jerked the portal
open, and dagger in hand, sprang out, ready for attack. He closed the
door, slipping the bar back into its brackets. If the man inside revived
and pounded for attention, his own friends might think it was Ross and
delay investigating.

But the escape from the cell was the easiest part of what he planned to
do, as Ross well knew. To find Assha and Macna in this maze of rooms
occupied by the enemy was far more difficult. Although he had no idea in
which of the village buildings they might be confined, this one was the
largest and seemed to be the headquarters of the chief men, which meant
it could also serve as their prison.

Light came from a torch in a bracket halfway down the hall. The wood
burned smokily, giving off a resinous odor, and to Ross the glow was
sufficient illumination. He slipped along as close to the wall as he
could, ready to freeze at the slightest sound. But this portion of the
building might well have been deserted, for he saw or