stood relaxed, intently gauging the approach of the
enemy, now a scant forty paces away.

An absolute silence had enveloped the entire amphitheater as every
observer of this tense drama strained his eyes to catch the impending
action.

Now Maltor, arrogant and impatient, stepped a pace or two in advance of
his companions. Notching an arrow, he nodded over his shoulder to the
others, who came up beside him. Three bows were raised in unison; the
warriors aimed their shafts carefully, each at a different member of
Katon's troupe. The human targets stood at ease, seemingly indifferent
to their danger.

And then the scheme the wily Maltor had evolved was flashed on the enemy
with a suddenness and brilliancy of execution that would have done much
to settle the final outcome--had it succeeded.

* * * * *

A split second before the arrows were released, two of the three archers
turned their aim toward the same target as that selected by Maltor.
Immediately three bowstrings twanged as one, sending three flint-tipped
shafts with incredible swiftness at a single mark.

To avoid one swiftly flying missile was difficult enough; to dodge
three, so cunningly spaced that a move to either side would avail
naught, was all but impossible. Yet in the flicker of time required for
the arrows to reach him, Tharn had acted in the only manner possible to
avoid impalement.

Flat on his face dropped the cave-man, the three bolts passing inches
above his descending head to shatter against the stone wall beyond. As
he fell, Katon and Rotark fired their first arrows.

One found a mark. A man screamed suddenly, horribly, and sank to the
sand, a wooden shaft protruding from his abdomen. Rotark had followed
instructions!

Had Katon's target been less agile there would have been two casualties.
But the man managed to avoid that flashing point by a sideward lunge,
keeping his balance with difficulty in the shifting sands.

Meanwhile, Tharn had not remained passively in a reclining position. As
the opening barrage passed over him, he rose to his knees and dispatched
his first arrow at the foe Katon had given him.

Maltor was too seasoned a warrior to be caught napping. Even though he
had momentarily dismissed Tharn as a source of danger, he had kept an
eye on the cave-man. And that precaution enabled him to twist aside
barely in time to keep from being struck.

The veteran bowman gasped incredulously as the s