"They call you Tanar?" bellowed The Cid.
Tanar nodded.
"And you are the son of a king!" and he laughed loudly. "With a ship's company I could destroy your father's entire kingdom and make a slave of him, as I have of his son."
"You had many ship's companies," replied Tanar; "but I did not see any of them destroying the kingdom of Sari . The army that chased them into the ocean was commanded by my father, under the Emperor."
The Cid scowled. "I have made men walk the plank for less than that," he growled.
"I do not know what you mean," said Tanar.
"You shall," barked The Cid; "and then, by the beard of the sea god, you'll keep a civil tongue in your head. Hey!" he shouted to one of his officers, "have a prisoner fetched and the plank run out. We'll show this son of a king who The Cid is and that he is among real men now."
"Why fetch another?" demanded Bohar the Bloody. "This fellow can walk and learn his lesson at the same time."
"But he could not profit by it," replied The Cid.
"Since when did The Cid become a dry nurse to an enemy?" demanded Bohar, with a sneer.
Without a word The Cid wheeled and swung an ugly blow to Bohar's chin, and as the man went down the chief whipped a great pistol from his sash and stood over him, the muzzle pointed at Bohar's head.
"Perhaps that will knock your crooked face straight or bump some brains into your thick head," roared The Cid.
Bohar lay on his back glaring up at his chief.
"Who is your master?" demanded The Cid.
"You are," growled Bohar.
"Then get up and keep a civil tongue in your head," ordered The Cid.
As Bohar arose he turned a scowling face upon Tanar. It was as though his one good eye had gathered all the hate and rage and venom in the wicked heart of the man and was concentrating them upon the Sarian, the indirect cause of his humiliation, and from that instant Tanar knew that Bohar the Bloody hated him with a personal hatred distinct from any natural antipathy that he might have felt for an alien and an enemy.
On the lower deck men were eagerly running a long plank out over the starboard rail and making the inboard end fast to cleats with stout lines.
From an opened hatch others were dragging a strapping prisoner from the kingdom of Thuria , who had been captured in the early fighting in the Land of Awful Shadow .
The primitive warrior held his head high and showed no terror in the presence of his rough captors. Tanar, looking down upon him from the upper deck, was proud of this fellow man of The Empire. The Cid was watching, too.
"That tribe needs taming," he said.
The younger of the two women, both of whom had stepped to the edge of the deck and were looking down upon the scene in the waist, turned to The Cid.
"They seem brave men; all of them," she said. "It is a pity to kill one needlessly."
"Poof! girl," exclaimed The Cid. "What do you know of such things? It is the blood of your mother that speaks. By the beards of the gods, I would that you had more of your father's blood in your veins."
"It is brave blood, the blood of my mother," replied the girl, "for it does not fear to be itself before all men. The blood of my father dares not reveal its good to the eyes of men because it fears ridicule. It boasts of its courage to hide its cowardice."
The Cid swore a mighty oath. "You take advantage of our relationship, Stellara," he said, "but do not forget that there is a limit beyond which even you may not go with The Cid, who brooks no insults."
The girl laughed. "Reserve that talk for those who fear you," she said.
During this conversation, Tanar, who was standing near, had an opportunity to observe the girl more closely and was prompted to do so by the nature of her remarks and the quiet courage of her demeanor. For the first time he noticed her hair, which was like gold in warm sunlight, and because the women of his own country were nearly all dark haired the color of her hair impressed him. He thought it very lovely and when he looked more closely at her features he realized that they, too, were lovely, with a sunny, golden loveliness that seemed to reflect like qualities of heart and character. There was a certain feminine softness about her that was sometimes lacking in the sturdy, self-reliant, primitive women of his own race. It was not in any sense a weakness, however, as was evidenced by her fearless attitude toward The Cid and by the light of courage that shone from her brave eyes. Intelligent eyes they were, too—brave, intelligent and beautiful.
But there Tanar's interest ceased and he was repulsed by the thought that this woman belonged to the uncouth bully, who ruled with an iron hand the whiskered brutes of the great fleet, for The Cid's reference to their relationship left no doubt in the mind of the Sarian that the woman was his mate.
And now the attention of all was focused on the actors in the tragedy below. Men had bound the wrists of the prisoner together behind his back and placed a blindfold across his eyes.
"Watch below, son of a king," said The Cid to Tanar, "and you will know what it means to walk the plank."
"I am watching," said Tanar, "and I see that it takes many of your people to make one of mine do this thing, whatever it may be."
The girl laughed, but The Cid scowled more deeply, while Bohar cast a venomous glance at Tanar.
Now men with drawn knives and sharp pikes lined the plank on either side of the ship's rail and others lifted the prisoner to the inboard end so that he faced the opposite end of the plank that protruded far out over the sea, where great monsters of the deep cut the waves with giant backs as they paralleled the ship's course—giant saurians, long extinct upon the outer crust.
Prodding the defenseless man with knife and pike they goaded him forward along the narrow plank to the accompaniment of loud oaths and vulgar jests and hoarse laughter.
Erect and proud, the Thurian marched fearlessly to his doom. He made no complaint and when he reached the outer end of the plank and his foot found no new place beyond he made no outcry. Just for an instant he drew back his foot and hesitated and then, silently, he leaped far out, and, turning, dove head foremost into the sea.
Tanar turned his eyes away and it chanced that he turned them in the direction of the girl. To his surprise he saw that she, too, had refused to look at the last moment and in her face, turned toward his, he saw an expression of suffering.
Could it be that this woman of The Cid's brutal race felt sympathy and sorrow for a suffering enemy?
Tanar doubted it. More likely that something she had eaten that day had disagreed with her.
"Now," cried The Cid, "you have seen a man walk the plank and know what I may do with you, if I choose."
Tanar shrugged. "I hope I may be as indifferent to my fate as was my comrade," he said, "for you certainly got little enough sport out of him."
"If I turn you over to Bohar we shall have sport," replied The Cid. "He has other means of enlivening a dull day that far surpass the tame exercise on the plank."
The girl turned angrily upon The Cid. "You shall not do that!" she cried. "You promised me that you would not torture any prisoners while I was with the fleet."
"If he behaves I shall not," said The Cid, "but if he does not I shall turn him over to Bohar the Bloody. Do not forget that I am Chief of Korsar and that even you may be punished if you interfere."
Again the girl laughed. "You can frighten the others, Chief of Korsar," she said, "but not me."
"If she were mine," muttered Bohar threateningly, but the girl interrupted him.
"I am not, nor ever shall be," she said.
"Do not be too sure of that," growled The Cid. "I can give you to whom I please; let the matter drop." He turned to the Sarian prisoner. "What is your name, son of a king?" he asked.
"Tanar."
"Listen well, Tanar," said The Cid impressively. "Our prisoners do not live beyond the time that they be of service to us. Some of you will be kept to exhibit to the people of Korsar, after which they will be of little use to me, but you can purchase life and, perhaps, freedom."