Nick Sloan nodded agreement. "But you watch yourself, Nelson. That cursed thinking wolf will have your heart out if he gets the jump on you."
"I want to be the one to kill that brute whenever the time comes!" Lefty said venomously. The little Cockney had chosen to be the one to accompany Nelson despite the fact that of them all he had the most superstitious horror of the intelligent animals. It was almost as though he was drawn on the dangerous mission by a fascination of hate.
Shan Kar and young Diril entered the room in full warrior dress of helmet, breastplate and sword-belt.
The Humanite's olive face was flushed with excitement, his black eyes eager. He held two of the thought-crowns in his hand.
"You're ready?" he said to Nelson. "Then we'll get Tark. But first put on the thought-crowns — you two must wear them constantly."
They went out and down the torchlit corridors with him, Li Kin looking mournfully after them from the doorway. Shan Kar led them through the vaulted ways of the building to a torchlit passage that had sentries posted in it. The doors here had massive wooden bars, set in crude, heavy metal hooks. This row of rooms had been converted thus into a prison-wing.
Eric Nelson was struck again by the contrast between the primitive ways of the present inhabitants of L'Lan and the marvelous, alien beauty and splendor of the ancient cities they inhabited. Truly these people had lost the knowledge of their ancient forebears!
Shan Kar unbarred and opened a door. The great wolf Tark rose soundlessly inside, and looked at them with inscrutable green eyes. Again, Nelson had the eery experience of hearing the wolf's projected thought through the instrument of ancient science that he wore upon his head.
"Before I go, I must see Barin," came Tark's thought.
"No!" said Shan Kar instantly.
"Then I do not go!" flashed the wolf. "For how am I to know but what you've killed him already?"
Shan Kar hesitated. "Very well. You can see him. But you're not to plot with him, Tark!"
The wolf trotted soundlessly beside them as they went down the corridor to the farthest barred door. Nelson noticed that Lefty Wister never took his eyes off the beast. The Cockney's pinched face glared his fear and hatred.
Barin leaped up from his wooden cot when Shan Kar opened the door. The youth still had a raw wound in his forehead, but seemed to have otherwise recovered.
Nelson saw his likeness to Nsharra — the same highbred, handsome features, the same intense passion flashing in his dark eyes.
"Betrayer of the Brotherhood!" Barin spat at Shan Kar. "Blasphemer against the law!"
He struck fire from Shan Kar. The latter's deep fanatic intensity of purpose boiled instantly to the surface.
"Your father's law — law of the lying Guardians of all the ages, who have told our people that beasts should rank with men!"
The wolf Tark was gazing fixedly at Barin and Nelson heard his thought. "Barin, if all goes well, you will soon be free. Wait quietly."
Barin glanced swiftly at the wolf, then suspiciously at Nelson and the Cockney.
"You plan something with these outlanders? Tark, I will not—"
"Wait quietly!" repeated the wolf, harshly commanding.
"No more!" cut in Shan Kar. The Humanite brusquely pushed them back, closed and barred the door.
It seemed to Eric Nelson that some swift glance of understanding had passed between Barin and Tark. A secret signal? Yet Tark went quietly enough with them back through the corridors. They emerged into the darkness of a court where warriors waited with a half-dozen horses.
"We take two extra horses for remounts," Shan Kar said.
The wolf ventured no comment. But Nelson wondered if he guessed that the extra mounts were intended for Kree and Nsharra.
The next instant it was swept from his mind by a disturbing shock. The horses tossed their heads excitedly against their cruel-bitted bridles and uttered eager thoughts that sounded in Nelson's brain.
"It's the Hairy One!" they cried. "Tark!"
It shook Nelson. And Lefty uttered a smothered oath.
"These horses of yours are talking to the bloody wolf!" cried the Cockney to Shan Kar.
Shan Kar answered curtly. "All the clans in this valley are intelligent. These Hoofed Ones are our prisoners of war."
"Slaves, say rather!" flashed the passionate thought of the golden mare in the forefront. "Slaves, beaten into beasts of burden by the Humanites! Tark, do they know this in Vruun?"
The thought of the wolf came pregnant with hate and menace. "We knew many of Hatha's clan were captured, but did not know the Humanites dared enslave you thus, brothers!"
A bay stallion, ears flattened and eyes rolling, reared up despite the saw-edged bit that cut his mouth.
"Tark, have you come to free us? By the Cavern, speak but a word and we fight and die here now!"
"My warriors can kill you all swiftly — and then Barin dies!" Shan Kar warned the wolf.
"Wait, brothers!" the wolf's thought ordered the rearing, excited horses. "Wait and go quietly with us now — it is for the good of the Brotherhood."
Unearthly, that thought-colloquy of wolf and horses, to Eric Nelson! He was surely deluding himself, he thought — his mind could not actually be hearing that swift interchange of passionate thought—
But the rearing horses quieted, and from them came quick answer. "We obey, Tark! If it is for the Brotherhood!"
Shan Kar spoke to Nelson and the Cockney. "Mount now — and fear nothing. These Hoofed Ones have learned their masters!"
It gave Nelson a creepy feeling to swing into the rude saddle of the golden mare and to realize that his mount was intelligently aware of him, hating him, wanting to kill him.
They rode out of the court and on out through the dark silent windings of forest that enlaced Anshan. Tark ran silently, a black shadow, beside Shan Kar's steed.
Then they were out on the rolling plain, under a sky of magnificent stars against whose sparkling splendor the lofty peaks around L'Lan towered solemn and distant!
"Now lead the way, Tark, and remember that if you lead us wrongly Barin dies!"
The great wolf noiselessly slid ahead of their little mounted party. He trotted almost due north across the plain.
"Keep close behind me," his thought came back. "Obey instantly when I direct you."
Wind, cold from the distant peaks, buffeted Eric Nelson's face as the mare loped steadily. Lefty Wister bucketed along just behind, Diril bringing up the rear with the two spare horses.
The wolf veered constantly to keep always as near as possible to the clumps of trees that dotted the plain. Soon Nelson learned the reason.
Tark whirled, just ahead of them, and his eyes flashed green light as his sharp thought came back to them. "Into the trees! Quickly!"
There was a clump of birch close ahead. They spurred into the little grove. There Shan Kar turned in his saddle toward the wolf, his thought suspicious and menacing.
"Is this a trick? If it is, Tark—"
"Quiet!" commanded the wolf. "Scouts are coming."
They came as three gliding shadows up against the stars. Nelson saw they were eagles winging high in the darkness, soundless as flying clouds, sweeping on toward Anshan.
"Now we can go on," the wolf told them a minute later. "The Winged Ones have passed."
"What are they doing here?" Shan Kar asked harshly. "Going to watch Anshan," was the curt answer of Tark.
They rode on, veering to keep near the infrequent tree-clumps, until the solid wall of the forest loomed up before them.
The forest was like a dark maw gaping for them. The thought of the intelligent, hostile beasts that roamed its ways made it seem a black witch-wood to Nelson. He didn't want to go into it.