CHAPTER TWO

Seven silent shapes glided through the sky above the gigantic rain forest which bordered the Sea of Kal, and stretched far away to the west, to the slopes of the Western Mountains. A closer view revealed that the shapes were winged, feathered creatures, randing from perhaps twelve to fifteen feet in length, that soared upon large, beautiful wings, some of which spread more than thirty feet across.

A large, curved beak extended out from the head of each creature, the head set upon a thick neck of perhaps two feet in length.

Straps were fastened to the head and neck of each beast, which ran back to the hands of a rider, a man-like creature who rode each dyrrn, as the flying creatures were known.

Beneath the bright green, tapered breast of each dyrrn, four legs were drawn up close to the body. The rear legs were thick and powerful, terminating in long, curved, four-pronged talons. The front appendages, shorter and more slender, were located in front of the wings, and seemed suited for grasping food and holding it within reach of the creature's powerful beak. They were covered with the same bright green as the dyrrn's feathers, and were almost invisible against its breast, while the rear legs were devoid of plumage, and scaled.

The riders of the dyrrn were manlike creatures, yet unlike men in several characteristics. They were larger, averaging perhaps seven feet in height, and their arms hung nearly to their knees. Short, coarse fur, of grey, brown, or black covered most of their bodies, which were lean and muscular. The features were manlike, but much coarser in appearance than mens', with a heavily sloping forehead, deep-set black eyes, and powerful jaws possessing long canine teeth.

They wore clothing, however, each garbed in a loincloth of rough leather, secured with a belt from which hung a long knife and a net. A longbow was strapped to each broad back, and a quiver of ebony arrows, feathered with the green plumage.

Creatures of obvious intelligence, each wrok, as the creatures were known, sat in a small saddle affixed to the back of its mount, from which hung other items, such as rope, bags of food, and water. The wroks guided their dyrrn mounts with practiced efficiency, scanning the treetops as they glided above the forest.

Their leader veered his dyrrn suddenly, and began to descend toward the forest. His comrades followed, noticing as they did so a slender wisp of faint smoke filtering through the treetops. Silently they brought their dyrrn to rest among the upper branches of a gigantic tree, and tethering the fierce creatures, the wroks began to descend with simian swiftness, grasping with their powerful, hand-like feet in addition to their hands and arms. Silently they moved down into the forest, peering below into the murky gloom, searching for the source of the smoke. Eventually they reached a perch fifty feet above the forest floor, and surveyed the scene below.

A young woman sat happily in the soft grass of a quiet meadow, playing with her small child. The tinkling sounds of her laughter carried to the wroks, as she wrestled and caressed the infant lovingly. The child, too, seemed full of joy, and his bright green eyes flashed as they caught and reflected a stray beam of sunlight from above.

Small teeth gleamed brightly as he laughed and giggled in response to the patient, playful antics of his mother, and she too laughed as he rushed upon her gleefully.

Golden hair capped his small head, in contrast to the brown hair of Lyna, his mother.

She stroked his longish hair lovingly, watching her child play and laugh, and her brown eyes sparkled with happiness and affection. The dangers she and her family had faced in recent weeks were momentarily forgotten, as was the anxiety which had arisen within her at her husband's continued absence.

The wroks watched patiently, testing the wind with their senses, listening intently, and waiting for some evidence which might indicate that the woman and child were not alone. After a few moments, the leader began to descend once more, followed by the others.

Lyna Throom was enthralled by her son, Tarak, and was unaware of the presence of others until a shadow moved across the ground in front of her, which caused her to gasp, and look upward. Uttering a cry of despair and terror she snatched the child to her breast, and unmindful of the sword which lay next to her, she began to run, screaming for a husband who was yet miles from her side.

She heard movement above and ahead of her, but as she looked up again she felt the staggering impact of an arrow as it drove down through her chest, barely missing her son, and driving her back and down to the ground, lodging in her spine.

Her child rolled away from nerveless fingers, out upon the soft grass, and she coughed helplessly as she tried to reach out to him with arms which lay uselessly beside her.

"Run, Tarak!" she screamed, knowing as she spoke the words that they were futile. She attempted to scream again, but the words choked in her chest, and her vision clouded. Her head slumped to the side, and painlessly she died within the sight of her son, her limp body sprawled lifelessly upon the serene meadow.

The child, sensing through his bewilderment the terror and anguish of his mother's cries, and watching her as she lay inertly in the grass, tried to crawl back into her arms, but a rough hand jerked him up and raised him into the air.

A hairy face regarded him, the wide lips bared back in a snarl. The wrok who held him looked at the leader, and muttered "Kill?"

"No," the other wrok replied. " Gonor pay Lukor for child. Gonor want child."

The wrok who held the infant snarled, but obeyed. Lukor, the leader, was a gigantic wrok, young and immensely powerful, and any challenge to his authority would be met instantaneously with swift and deadly violence.

Lukor did not even acknowledge the other's snarl. He simply turned and began to climb back into the trees. The wrok who held the child stuffed the struggling burden into his net, and after fastening the net once more to his belt, he too began to climb.

Two wroks searched the surrounding area for several minutes, then they joined the others high in the treetops, who waited with the dyrrn, leaving the woman as she lay in the grass.

Helplessly the child writhed in the net as his captors climbed, calling out to his mother with tear-filled eyes.

The wrok slapped him sharply, and he cried out from the blow, but was silent thereafter. The net was fastened to the saddle of Lukor, the leader, and, untethering their mounts, the wroks climbed into their saddles and urged the dyrrn aloft.

Once above the forest, they directed them inland, away from the sea, and towards the distant mountains which loomed in the west.

They flew steadily for two hours, unchallenged in the skies, until the mountains rose up before them. Then they began to climb slowly, higher and higher, until the seemingly tireless dyrrn began to labor in flight. They climbed until they were almost clear of the foremost mountain peaks, and then released control of the creatures, who gratefully ceased climbing, and began to glide swiftly westward in a smooth, slightly descending path toward the crest of the mountains.

Silently they passed the first formidable peak, and continued their effortless glide until more than a dozen miles of the inhospitable terrain had passed beneath them. Still they descended, while ahead rose even higher mountains.

Before they reached these far peaks, however, a valley appeared slightly ahead of and beneath them, and the dyrrn began to descend swiftly toward the nearer end of the valley.

They approached a cliff face which dominated the northeastern end of the valley, passing over green meadows and sparkling streams, which were lost to the west in the depths of a forest which dominated most of the western three-fourths of the valley, which itself was an oasis of life, one of many such, in the barren stretches of the mountains.

The cliff was dotted with numerous caves and apertures, and ledges appeared as the powerful dyrrn glided towards the cliffside. They alighted upon one of the largest, which fronted a huge cavern in the side of the cliff. A number of wroks waited on the ledge, and they moved forward, weapons drawn, as Lukor's band alighted from their dyrrn.

The wrok leader ignored them, grabbing the net from his dyrrn, shaking the child within, and shouldering his way roughly through the wroks, who moved quickly aside as he approached.

Moving into the cave, he turned into a corridor which branched off to the right, and ran parallel to the face of the cliff. Torches were set into the stone walls, but windows cut into the face of the cliff let in ample light during daylight hours, and the torches were not lit.

After a few minutes he approached a heavy door which barred the passage, and which was guarded by two large wroks, each armed with a long spear, while a sword and knife hung from their belts. They raised their spears at his approach, and moved to block the corridor.

"Stop, Lukor," the larger wrok said, baring his fangs. Lukor did not hesitate. "I bring child to Gonor."

He held up the net, with the limp form visible within, and continued to advance, as his free hand slid over the handle of his long knife.

The guards hesitated, hating Lukor, but fearing him and his murderous tendencies.

He passed between them, opened the door, and entered into the chamber beyond, pulling the door shut behind him. He had treated the guards with obvious and callous disrespect, but they knew Lukor was high in the favor of Gonor, the ruler of this valley, and they also knew that Lukor loved to kill, and had already killed several wroks.

His ferocity was terrible to behold, and his strength and speed were immense, even for a wrok. He was truly a magnificent specimen, and these qualities were not lost on the guards.

The chamber into which he passed was large and ornately decorated. Tapestries hung from he walls, woven from rich colors, and depicting various scenes and designs. Brightly colored carpets littered the polished stone floor, and oil lamps had replaced torches. Furniture of various types was in evidence, including a large couch, and several chairs and shelves.

A large window, barred with steel, opened onto the valley, illuminating the room, and providing a magnificent view of the beautiful valley.

A man stood at the window, looking out through the barred aperture. He turned at the sound of Lukor's entrance and stared silently at the wrok. The man was large, with fair skin, regular, but rugged features, and short brown hair. A well-muscled frame was not disguised by the silver-blue tunic he wore, and a sword hung from the scabbard at his belt. He was otherwise unarmed.

Lukor halted at the direct scrutiny of the man, and held up the net. "Brona. I come for Gonor. I have child."

Lukor's manner was no longer belligerent and swaggering. Brona was Gonor's assistant, and Gonor was the master of this valley. The authority of Brona was great. Brona was also a cruel and vicious man, cunning and dangerous.

Lukor was contemptuous of men, chiefly because of his vast physical superiority, but he had learned to respect the knowledge they possessed, and the power which it could command. Through following these men his own power and authority had greatly increased, and he had learned much.

He felt no gratitude. Should an opportunity present itself in which it would appear to be advantageous to Lukor to break the neck of this man, or even of Gonor, he would not hesitate to do so. Such an opportunity had not yet occurred, however, and Lukor, wary and cunning, accepted the authority of the men with apparent ease.

Brona said nothing for a moment, merely looking at the huge wrok with indifference. Then he turned and looked out once again at the valley below, while Lukor waited patiently, his long arms hanging to his knees, the net now resting its burden on the floor. "Wait here," Brona said finally, and turned toward the door which opened on the far side of the room, opposite to that through which the wrok had entered. He disappeared through the doorway, and closed the door behind him, while Lukor watched him with savage eyes.

A few moments later the door reopened, and Brona reappeared, this time accompanied by another man and a young woman.

The second man was older, and slighter of build than Brona, but his manner bespoke authority, and brilliance could be seen in his dark eyes. His features were sharp, his lips thin and cruel. Thinning grey hair was cropped short upon his rather large head, and the rest of his body was hidden beneath the long flowing robes which he wore, reaching almost to the floor.

His expression was impassive, but the eyes flickered with keen interest when he spied the small figure which lay wrapped in the net upon the floor.

He gestured at the child with his head and Lukor loosened his grip on the net, jerking it open and depositing its contents upon the floor.

The child whimpered as he rolled free and struck the stone, and the woman hurried forward, picking the child up, and untangling its small arms from the few strands which still clung loosely. Cradling the child in her arms, she handed the net to Lukor, who took it from her and fastened it to his belt.

In sharp contrast to the fine clothing which was worn by the men, the woman was dressed in a brief ragged tunic, torn in several places, and stained heavily. Her feet were bare, and a metal shackle was locked around each ankle, the shackles joined by a thin metal chain, twelve inches long.

The length of the chain required the woman to move with very small, quick steps, and the fact that her movements never pulled it taut was indication that she had worn it for a long time.

She kept her head down, and her eyes averted, except for quick, hesitant glances at the faces and hands of the men, ever alert for a slight signal or command.

Amena had been Gonor's slave for nearly five years, and she knew from bitter experience that his slightest displeasure would result in a great deal of suffering. She had gone to the child unbidden, and unthinking, and now cringed before her master. Gonor did not strike her, however. A smile flickered across his lean face, and he chuckled.

"Do not waste your tears on this child's whimperings, slave. He has only begun to cry."

She flinched involuntarily, and looked down upon the child in her arms. So small and helpless he appeared, and yet a beautiful boy, with adorable features, and very bright, green eyes. His soft skin was torn and bruised, and deeply checkered from the cruel strands of the net in which he had been carried. Tearful eyes searched hers, and as she hugged him to her breast he ceased whimpering, and small arms circled her neck.

Overcome with his need, she cried silently for this small child, and vowed privately to protect him, although knowing at the same time that she was powerless to do so.

"Do you understand, Amena?" Gonor's voice was sharp.

"Yes, Master," she replied quickly, lowering her head even further. "Amena understands."

Gonor then turned his attention to Lukor, who shifted his gaze from the slave to his leader.

"I am pleased, Lukor. Where did you find it?"

"In the forest. In from the Sea. I killed its mother. She tried to run. She called it Tarak."

Gonor stood silently, reflecting as he had so often in the past upon the limited mental processes of the wroks. Thoughts seemed to form in their minds in short, sometimes random sequences, and this was always reflected in their speech. Short, simple sentences, which reflected their thoughts in basic terms, were predominant.

Even Lukor, who in addition to being huge was quite intelligent for a wrok, often expressed himself in this stunted fashion.

"It's father? Others?" he asked the wrok.

Lukor looked blankly at him for a moment, then grasped the meaning of the question.

"We wait...." The wrok shrugged.

Gonor looked at him for another moment, then indicated a dismissal of the creature, praising Lukor once again, and promising him rewards for this capture. The wrok grinned savagely, nodded silently, and left the room, using the door through which he had entered the room.

Gonor watched him leave, then directed Amena to take the child and clean its wounds. When she had gone he poured a goblet of wine, and invited Brona to join him. Crossing to the window, he stood gazing out onto the vast green valley.

Brona joined him a moment later, a goblet in his hand, waiting for Gonor to speak.

"It has been some time, Brona, since we had a child so young." Gonor spoke without turning his head.

Brona nodded, and his thoughts drifted to far Elur, the City of Light, nestled in a natural canyon, far to the south of their present location. Protected by the mountains, yet open to trade through the forest, and from the sea by ships which traveled up the river which ran through the city.

Both men had been citizens of Elur, and Gonor had enjoyed rightful acclaim as one of its greatest scholars and physicians. Brona had been Gonor's student, and an armed retainer, learning from his teacher, while protecting his privacy and his property. Gonor's brilliance had inflamed his imagination, but, as with many scientists, Gonor felt hindered by the strictures and scruples which blinded civilized men. His interests ran into unusual areas, and he began to experiment in strange and cruel ways upon animals which he obtained for such purposes.

Criticisms were voiced by some citizens, but Gonor's reputation had been great, and proof of such alleged cruelty was absent, so he had continued his experiments, with Brona's assistance, largely unfettered by interference.

Later, however, allegations had again surfaced, this time that Gonor had begun experimenting upon men, as well as animals. Even children were mentioned.

Condemned criminals had been seen being transported into his large, fortified house, usually in large cages, or in chains. None had ever returned from behind its walls.

Poor families began to report missing children, and passersby reported hearing faint screams from behind the stone walls, late at night, when the city was silent.

Gonor had refused to allow visitors to his house, and had ceased attending public functions, sending Brona in his place. His lack of visibility lessened his public image, however, and the City Administration, responding to the growing public concern, had ordered an investigation into the House of Gonor.

The findings of the investigation had remained secret, but Gonor and Brona had fled the city shortly afterward,

Their status as scientists and physicians had been considered meaningless when compared with the carnage and inhuman cruelty which was reported to the Tarkan of Elur by his investigators.

Mutilated corpses, animal and human, had been found, along with evidence of the dissection of children.

Some were living in cages, or in pits with animals, forced to fight like beasts for their food and survival.

Other equally horrible evidence had been uncovered, and Brona had more than once reflected that they had been fortunate to have escaped. The Tarkan had not wanted the public to learn of the atrocities which had taken place within his city, and had allowed them to depart, upon pain of death should they ever return to Elur. The Tarkan had subsequently changed his mind, ordering their execution, but they had left immediately, and were lost in the forest before he could have them arrested.

Gonor had been disappointed that his experimentation had been so crudely interrupted, and had vowed to continue his work elsewhere. He missed only the opportunities to obtain subjects for his experiments which Elur had afforded, but Brona did not accept his banishment so easily.

Elur was an incredibly rich city, and its pleasures legendary upon Aantor. Brona had lived luxuriously amid its splendor, and vowed to do so again.

They had hastened from Elur, and afterwards had traveled widely, often encountering danger, but always surviving. As physicians they often traded services for the necessities of life, but the Aantorian's common distrust of strangers prevented them from establishing a permanent residence in any city they visited. Near Car, the Forest City, they had come upon a lone wrok, injured, and near death. Upon questioning the creature they learned that he had been traveling through the forest with his mate, and had been set upon by a squad of soldiers from Car.

Wroks and men were ancient enemies, and wrok-hunting was a popular pastime in Car, a city which dared to defy the dangers and death of the forest, long the exclusive habitat of the wrok.

Open lands, and those partially forested, were man's realm, while the western forest, all the way to the mountains, remained wild, a savage land, shunned by civilized man, inhabited by numerous carnivores and other dangers, and home to the wroks.

The dwellers of Car had dared to build their city in the forest long ago, and had cleared only that land which was necessary for farming and defense. They were men who loved the forest, and relished the challenge of combat with wroks and other denizens of their chosen habitat.

Men of Car were formidable warriors, and of necessity the lands surrounding the city's territory were patrolled often, and in force.

They hunted the wroks for war and for sport, and often captured the creatures for use in the arena, or for exhibition to the public.

This day they had sought to kill the male, and capture the female, for sale as a beast of burden, or to pit her against another creature in the arena. They had been victorious, but three men had perished during the attack. the Carians had left the male in the dirt to suffer and die, but his vitality and strength had kept him alive long after a human would have died.

Gonor, ever eager for an opportunity to exercise his considerable skill as a physician, had treated the creature's wounds, and cared for it while the wrok regained some of its strength.

The wrok, who was called Mulak, had proven to be unusually intelligent, and indicated that he was leader of a band of wroks who resided in a valley located within the Western Mountains.

Intrigued, the men had accepted Mulak's invitation to travel with him, and an alliance was forged from scientific curiosity and gratitude. They located the valley after a march of several days, through foothills and passes which seemed to constitute a maze into the mountains, and Gonor immediately recognized its possibilities as a secluded fortress from which he could carry on activities free from the constraints of civilization.

He spoke to the wroks of their need to organize against civilized men, and emphasized the importance of having the wisdom and counsel of men to assist them.

Distrustful at first, the wroks grudgingly accepted some advice, at first largely because of the power of Mulak, and they found that the tactics recommended by the scientist were immediately successful against other bands of wroks with whom they fought.

Organized now, and backed by the intelligence and cunning of the men, they expanded their territory, subduing other bands, and assimilating their members, this growing into an ever more formidable force, until they controlled vast portions of the forest outside their valley, and became supreme in their domain.

Powerful, savage fighters, the wroks now adopted tactics painstakingly taught by Brona, and formerly used only by men. They attacked savagely, without warning, and in mass numbers, emerging as such a threat that citizens of Car no longer traveled outside the patrolled boundaries of their city, except in force.

Gonor's power continued to extend far beyond his valley, with many hundreds of wroks under his influence. Few of these lived in the valley, the majority being scattered throughout their forest domain, commanded by the fierce Mulak, who reigned supreme in a secure forest village near the entrance to the maze which led to the hidden valley. Mulak had given the valley to Gonor, as his advisor, and provided him with wroks to do his bidding, in exchange for Gonor's wisdom and for saving the life of the wrok, and for his aid in making Mulak supreme among wroks.

Gonor had selected his wroks carefully, looking for creatures of unusual intelligence and great ferocity. Thus he had found Lukor, one of the largest wroks he had ever encountered. He rewarded the creature, and gave him leadership, presuming correctly that this wrok would exert immediate authority over his savage brethren. He knew that Lukor was untrustworthy, but knew also that any challenge to his power by the young wrok would result in immediate and deadly reprisal by Mulak, and Gonor made certain Lukor knew it, too.

Lukor was in addition a rider of the dyrrn, the winged creatures which carried the wroks where no men could go. No man had ever ridden the creatures, and few wroks were able to command them. Some, however, seemed to have an affinity with the huge feathered carnivores, and were accepted as riders by dyrrn which had been raised in captivity, and trained as mounts.

Wild dyrrn could never be ridden, or even approached, but those raised in captivity, and trained, were often accepting of riders.

Only the green forest dyrrn could be tamed at all. The Mountain dyrrn, or Great Dyrrn, were far less numerous, and much more savage. More than twice the size of the forest dyrrn, the mountain dyrrn lived in the desolate fastness of high mountains, and rarely traveled out over the forest, whose lofty, thickly interwoven trees hid their prey, and whose rising warmth was uncomfortable to their thickly feathered bodies.

Occasionally one would venture down into warmer lands, striking terror into the hearts of the wroks, for the great dyrrn would prey upon their forest cousins, and no flying mount could be controlled when a great dyrrn was nearby.

Lukor's band had been badly decimated by a black mountain dyrrn some months ago. Returning from a slave raid, they had been approaching the valley when the sky had suddenly exploded with the incredible fury of an unexpected attack by a giant black creature. Its dive had taken it into the center of the flock, and three dyrrn had been killed before the others knew the nature of their attacker. The wroks had attempted to land, but their dyrrn had scattered, flying uncontrollably, many spilling their riders in their panic and terror, attempting to flee the ripping talons and tearing beak of the black giant.

The mountain dyrrn, lusting with killing instinct, had continued the slaughter long after a food predator would have ceased its attack, and it had flown swiftly, overtaking one dyrrn after another it its onslaught. Eight dyrrn fell from the sky that day, and another nine spilled their riders in their efforts to escape the black destroyer.

Those wroks who had managed to retain their seats had soared far out over the forest before they were able to once again gain control over their mounts, and many were unable to induce their dyrrn to return to the valley for several days.

Since that day groups of riders had never exceeded seven, and the dyrrn flew farther apart, with one rider flying high above the rest, ever on the alert for danger.

The black dyrrn had soon returned to the vast bleakenss of the mountains, and had fortunately not been seen again, for such a creature would render the inhabitants of the valley almost totally ineffective in providing leadership and advice to the wroks outside their enclosed domain.

Communication with the lands outside the valley were carried almost exclusively by dyrrn, since it required many days to transverse the maze of gorges and valleys through which they had first entered the valley, and few knew the path, in any event.

The valley's inhabitants had little else to fear. Lukor's might and the leadership of Gonor had forged an impregnable fortress, guarded at its entrance by Mulak's forest kingdom and the maze of the entrance.

Brona calculated and hoped that they would eventually control thousands of the wroks, and guessed that such a savage force might assail entire cities. Presently they controlled the forest, and their needs were amply met.

Wroks provided food, captured luxuries, and most importantly, subjects for Gonor's experiments. Usually these were animal specimens, but they would occasionally capture a man or woman.

Such had been the fate of Amena, the slave girl, who had been captured some years before during a raid in which her parents had been murdered by the wroks.

Her family had been citizens of Car, and members of a small, lightly guarded traveling party once so commonly seen outside the city.

Young and beautiful, Amena had been accustomed to a pampered life, surrounded by luxury, and with slaves to attend to her needs. She had been haughty and proud, but the wroks had attacked her party, and she had awakened from a bloody nightmare to find herself alone and chained at the feet of Gonor.

Realizing that a human was in control, she had demanded an immediate release, threatening her captor in an imperious manner, but his dark eyes had merely looked at her in silence, and at his slight nod she had been jerked to her feet by a wrok, and taken away.

She was placed in a tiny cubicle, so small that she could not have straightened her body even if her arms had not been chained behind her to her ankles, where she was left alone in total darkness.

She had screamed, and threatened, but her cries had gone unanswered, and she had finally fell quiet.

Her body had ached, and vermin had begun to crawl over her in the darkness, biting her soft skin. She could not reach them because of her chains, and rolled over, scraping her skin against the rough sides of the cubicle, trying vainly to crush them.

She had whimpered and cried, terror rising within her as she began to lose control of her feelings and her mind.

After untold hours a blinding light had appeared, and spoiled food was thrown into the cubicle. She shouted, but received no answer. Desperately hungry, she could not force herself to touch the food, which lay before her face as the stench rose in her nostrils.

Soon others were drawn by its smell, though, and she felt small furry creatures scamper over her body, fighting over the food, and nipping at her skin.

When next the half-rotten food was thrown in, she was ravenous, and snaked over to it, lowering her head and licking up the garbage from the filthy floor.

Soon the small animals, known as uks, reappeared, but she screamed at them, and tried to crush them by rolling her slender body. They bitten her several times,, and tried to steal food even from her lips, inflicting bites upon her face and neck. Blindly She had fought, crazy with fear and discomfort, moaning like an animal. After these meals she would try to cover her head and sleep, trying to shut out the pain, while her bites festered and fed the innumerable small predators who picked and nipped at her wounds.

When fed, she screamed at those who tossed the food. She was told to be silent, and when next she screamed at mealtime the food was withdrawn. It was her last scream.

She had been jerked out of the cubicle a lifetime later, though she learned that her ordeal had lasted only three weeks, and then she had been roughly scrubbed down, and given a slave's tunic, which she gratefully donned.

She had been freed of her chains, and another, short, thin chain had been forged between her ankle irons. Thus garbed, she had stumbled once more into Gonor's presence, and had knelt immediately.

He had looked down at her silently for a moment. "You are a slave," he said, finally. "You will never hesitate for a moment in your obedience, nor will you ever make a demand again in your lifetime. You will never make a sound unless so ordered, and you will eat and drink from bowls on the floor, without using your hands. Your hands, your mind and your body belong to me, and you will never again take an action which is not directed by me or someone in my service. If you disobey even once, or hesitate in any manner to perform, you will return to your cubicle for the rest of your life."

He had grabbed her face, holding her cheeks cruelly in his rough hands, and turning her head back and forth. "You were a pretty girl, but now your face is blemished with scars. You are an ugly slave girl. If you are fortunate you will live to be an ugly old woman. Do you understand?"

"Yes, master!"

He chuckled, and nodded to Brona, who was sitting nearby. "Follow me, slave," Brona said quietly, and arose and headed for the door. Amena silently followed him, shuffling and tripping in her chains.

After serving his pleasure in his room, she was taken to the kitchen, and placed under the direction of another female slave.

A former peasant, the slave who ran the kitchen laughed at Amena when she entered, and showed her the dirty corner where her food and water bowls lay.

Amena was fed the scraps from the food eaten by the other slaves, and obeyed all instantaneously. Although she had been slapped and kicked frequently, she had never been seriously hurt her, however, and only Brona had used her for his pleasures..

She had long since ceased to regard herself as anything more than a serving animal, and would have collapsed entirely if not for her fear of being returned to the sightless cubicle. Ceaselessly her fear fueled her unrelenting labors.

From time to time Gonor and Brona discussed her case.

Gonor was always fascinated in the pyschological and physiologicaly responses of subjects to severe conditioning, and enjoyed expounding on the subject.

"She is an example of extreme conditioning, Brona. In three weeks she was reduced from a snobbish, impudent daughter of nobility to a groveling slave, barely on an equal footing with the animals we experiment upon. She contemplates the rest of her life as a serving beast."

Brona nodded. "It is an impressive result. I would have thought her sanity would have fled."

"Had her punishment been more severe, that might have been likely. It is always difficult to determine the point at which the will is destroyed through terror and pain, yet leaving the subject more or less sane," Gonor responded. "She is a good example of such success, but with knowledge such success is often attainable." "In slavery, yes." agreed Brona.

Gonor nodded. Long ago he had learned the efficacy of pain and terror when utilized to destroy the will of a slave. Many slaves accepted their condition, but any who rebelled could be reduced by such means. Either reduced or destroyed.

A few slaves had not been broken, and one or two of those still survived, blinded and crammed into cubicles, fed by other slaves as Amena had been. They would eventually lose their sanity, or die from infection, or loss of blood, and meanwhile served as an example to the slaves who fed them.

Conditioning was a powerful tool, and yet Gonor had never been successful with utilizing it effectively to produce positive, rather than negative results. He could destroy a person, physically and mentally, but could not seem to find the right combination of factors which might produce a superior being through such conditioning.

Observing that men would change, if given motivation to do so, he had attempted to produce drastic changes by providing them with drastic stimulation. His research indicated that extreme negative stimulation produced the most change, and life-threatening situations were most effective.

The will to survive was great in all living things, and Gonor postulated that a man would increase his ability to survive if he was faced with new situations which demanded that he alter his abilities, in order to survive.

His experiments had met with failure, however. Men who had matured seemed to have finite limits to their skill, and when faced with such threatening situations, they usually died.

Reasoning that perhaps the conditioning was needed at a much earlier age, during the critical formative period, he had begun to experiment upon children, and had met with limited success. The children did seem to learn and adapt much more quickly, and would acquire skills far above others of their age. Eventually they would perish, however, as they faced a threat which was simply too much to overcome, or as they lost their sanity.

His difficult task was to provide a threat which could be overcome by the subject, but just barely, while at the same time to try to prevent the irrevocable, and so far seemingly inevitable, disintegration of the child's mind.

He and Brona had learned much from the children of Elur, and more from captives taken since they had entered the valley. Recent months had provided little in the way of experimental subjects, however.

Car guarded its citizens well these days, and other cities were more distant, and not under the direct threat of the wroks. The men knew that Mulak would forbid experimentation on wrok children, and so Gonor always rewarded a hunting party if a captive, particularly a child, was taken.

Gonor was thus vastly pleased with the capture of the blond child.

"He is very young, Brona, and seems in good health, despite his bruises and bumps. We may learn much from this one."

"He is only one child," replied Brona, "and will undoubtedly perish soon."

"Perhaps," admitted Gonor. "We will try to learn from his death, however. If we learn from each failure, we may find success one day."

Brona nodded. He found the idea fascinating, himself. He also enjoyed cruelty, and looked forward to experimenting with the child. He often abused the slave, Amena, simply for the sake of being cruel. Often he would have her perform tricks, like a trained animal, and he usually kept a thorny stick nearby, which he would throw, and have her fetch in her teeth, again and again, for his amusement. He hoped this child would prove to be as adaptable

as some others they had killed.

"When do we begin?" he asked.

"In a week," Gonor replied. "Let the slave care for him until then, so he will be strong."