considerable risk in having them made, I felt that eventually they must be of the utmost value in releasing Mintep, if it developed that he was a prisoner in Gap kum Rov.
You can scarcely realize the caution I was forced to observe in everything that I did, in order not to arouse suspicion, to incur enmities, or engender envy, for every citizen of Amlot was a spy or a potential informer. Yet I had to make haste, for I knew that over my head hung constantly that Damoclean message from Muso. Who had it? Why had they not struck?
I was accustomed to wandering around the prison alone, inspecting the cells, the guardroom, the kitchen; so it would arouse no comment were I discovered anywhere; and the fact that I was almost constantly humming or singing my foolish song was, I felt, evidence that there was nothing irregular or surreptitious about my activities.
It was the day before Torko's return that I determined to try to ascertain definitely if Mintep were imprisoned at the lower level. With this idea in mind, I went singing through the prison, feeling, as usual, like a loony. Down to the basement I went, through the courtroom, and into the dim precincts of the forbidden cells. I went to the furnace and passed along the corridor where the cells were, and there I sang the two verses that I had written to arouse Mintep's interest and, perhaps, beguile an acknowledgement, if he were there. These are the verses to which I refer, roughly translated into English:
'Mourned by a nation, By her kinsman sought, Duare lives, and Of thy fate knows naught. A word, a sign, is All she asks of thee. If thou canst give it, Put thy trust in me.'
I kept right on singing other verses, or humming the air, as I passed along the cells; but there was no response. Clear to the end of the corridor I went, and then turned back. Once more I sang those two verses, and as I approached the last cells, I saw a man pressing close to the bars of one of them. In the dim light, I could not see his features plainly; but as I passed close to him, he whispered the single word, 'Here.' I noted the location of his cell and continued on my way.
With Torko, I occupied an office next to the guardroom: and when I arrived there, I found my kordogan waiting with some new prisoners. One of my duties was to receive all prisoners, question them, and assign them to cells. A clerk kept a record of all such matters. All I was supposed to do, according to Torko, was to insult and browbeat the prisoners.
There were three of them, and they lined them up in front of my desk. As I looked up at them, I immediately recognized one of them as Horjan, the brother of Lodas; and, to my horror, I saw recognition slowly dawn in his eyes, or at least I thought I did.
'What is your name?' I asked.
'Horjan,' he replied.
'Why are you here?'
'Some time ago I reported a stranger hiding in my home,' he replied. 'When the guard came, they found no one—the man had escaped. They were very angry with me. A neighbor, whom I had told of my discovery of the man, became angry with me; and today he went to the Zani Guard and told them that he had seen the man and that I had been hiding him, and that I only reported the matter because I knew that he would. He told them that the man was a spy from Sanara and that he was still in the city.'
'How does he know the man is still in the city?' I demanded.
'He says that he has seen him—that he could never forget his face or his eyes—he says that the man was wearing the uniform of an officer of the Zani Guard.'
I knew that Horjan's friend had not seen me, and that this was merely Horjan's way of communicating to me the fact that he had recognized me.
'It would be too bad if your friend bore false witness against an officer of the Zani Guard,' I said. 'If anyone did that, it would be necessary to torture him before killing him. But perhaps it would be well to question your friend to learn if he ever did see this man in your house, and have him describe him.'
Horjan paled. He realized that he had committed an error; and he was terrified, for he knew that his friend had never seen me and could not describe me.
'I hope it does not get him in trouble,' I continued. 'It is deplorable that there should be so much loose talking in Amlot. It would be better if some people held their tongues.'
'Yes,' said Horjan, meekly, 'there is too much loose talk; but you may rest assured that I shall never talk.'
I hoped that he meant it, but I was very much concerned. Now, indeed, must I take immediate steps to escape from Amlot. But how? My problem was now further complicated by my discovery of Mintep.
On the following day Torko returned, and I was sent to make an arrest in the quarter occupied by scholars and scientists. There were many Atorians living in this quarter, for their minds incline toward scholarly pursuits and scientific investigation. Here the few who had not been killed were segregated, not being allowed to leave the quarter, which, because of them, was in bad repute with the Zanis, who wreaked mean little persecutions on the slightest pretext. The Zanis hated scholars and scientists, as they hated all who were superior to them in any way.
On my way to the quarter, I passed a field where hundreds of boys were being drilled by kordogans of the Zani Guard. There were little fellows of five and six and many older boys. This same thing was going on all over Amlot—this was the only schooling the Zani boys received. The only toys they were allowed to have were weapons. Babes in arms were given blunt daggers upon which to cut their teeth. I said that was all the schooling they received. I was wrong. They were taught to shout 'Maltu Mephis!' upon any pretext or upon none, and a chapter from The Life of Our Beloved Mephis, written by himself, was read to them daily. It was quite a comprehensive education—for a Zani.
The quarter where I was to make the arrest had formerly been a prosperous one, as, during the regime of the jongs, scholars and scientists were held in high esteem; but now it was run down, and the few people I saw on the streets looked shabby and half starved. Arrived at the home of my victim (I can think of nothing more suitable to call him) I walked in with a couple of my men, leaving the others outside. As I entered the main room, which might be called the living room, I saw a woman step hurriedly between some hangings at the opposite side of the room; but not so quickly but that I recognized her. It was Zerka.
A man and woman sitting in the room rose and faced me. They both looked surprised; the woman, frightened. They were exceptionally fine-looking, intelligent appearing people.
'You are Narvon?' I asked of the man.
He nodded. 'I am Narvon. What do you want of me?'
'I have orders to place you under arrest,' I said. 'You will come with me.'
'What is the charge against me?' he asked.
'I do not know,' I told him. 'I have orders to arrest you—that is all I know.'
He turned sadly to say goodby to the woman; and as he took her in his arms and kissed her, she broke down. He choked a little as he tried to comfort her.
The kardogan ?? who accompanied me stepped forward and seized him roughly by the arm. 'Come on!' he shouted gruffly. 'Do you think we are going to stand here all day while you two dirty traitors blubber?'
'Leave them alone!' I ordered. 'They may say goodby.'
He shot me an angry look, and stepped back. He was not my own kordogan, who, while bad enough, had learned from me to temper his fanaticism a little with tolerance if not compassion.
'Well,' he said, 'while they're doing that, I'll search the house.'
'You'll do nothing of the kind,' I said. 'You'll stay here and keep still and take your orders from me.'
'Didn't you see that woman sneak into the back room when we entered he demanded.
'Of course I did,' I replied.
'Ain't you going to go after her?'
'No,' I told him. 'My orders were to arrest this man. I had no orders to search the house or question anyone else. I obey orders, and I advise you to do the same.'
He gave me a nasty look, and grumbled something I did not catch; then he sulked for the remainder of the day. On the way back to the prison I walked beside Narvon; and when I saw that the kordogan was out of earshot, I asked him a question in a whisper.
'Was the woman I saw in your house, the one who ran out of the room as I came in, a good friend of yours?'
