ure in an
effort to learn the facts. Endure that torture as long as you possibly
can. Then blurt out the name of the man who hired you."

Heglar was watching him through narrowed eyes. "I'm beginning to see the
light," he said dourly. "The name I give him will be that of the man you
are really after."

"Exactly."

"Whereupon I will be put to death."

"Jaltor has never been famed for his leniency, noble Heglar."

* * * * *

The old man drained his goblet of wine and put it on the table with a
steady hand. "At least he is a just man. He would punish only those he
believed implicated in the plot; my family would not be persecuted." He
seemed to be speaking to himself. "Rhoa would be a wealthy woman and my
children would never know want or hardship...."

His eyes came slowly up to Vokal. "My price will be one thousand tals!"

It was a staggering amount--the equivalent of twelve thousand young male
slaves--but Vokal never hesitated. "I will pay it, noble Heglar," he
said quietly.

"In advance."

"As you wish. I need no assurance beyond your word that you will carry
out the exact terms of the arrangement."

Heglar sighed. "You have my word.... What name will Jaltor's torture
wring from my reluctant lips?"

"That of the noble Garlud."

"Oho!" Heglar nodded in tribute. "That clears up the picture. Garlud is
second only to Jaltor as the most powerful man in all Ammad. With him
out of the way, you, as the next in line among Ammad's noblemen, will
take Garlud's place and all the benefits that go with it. I congratulate
you, noble Vokal, on your shrewdness."

They filled their earthen goblets and drank. After a moment Heglar said,
"There is one drawback to your plan, my friend. I hesitate to mention
it, for a man as thorough as you has doubtless anticipated that flaw and
taken steps to overcome it."

"No man is perfect," Vokal said equably. "To what do you refer?"

"Garlud has a son. As is our custom he will inherit his father's
position and estate even though Garlud is executed for treason."

"And if the son is dead also?" Vokal said silkily.

"So you _have_ thought of it! I might have known. In that case, since
Garlud's mate died over a moon ago, his wealth returns to the State,
except for the palace which is given to the next nobleman in line."

"Precisely."

"Uh-hunh. Do you know for sure that Garlud's son--let's see: his name is
... ah--"

"Jotan."

"Of course. A fin