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knife-point, so that all five went off in a small group by themselves.
They passed through a farther entrance, along a passage and down a flight of
steps into a shorter passage, lined with cells on either side of a narrow
corridor. They had been created by iron bars sunk into the stone at top and
bottom; and the cells were divided to make cubicles about ten feet square.
The cells were almost twentieth-century modern in appearance; and by medieval
standards they were remarkably clean. What this meant, Jim had no idea; but
somehow the very cleanliness of it stirred an ominous feeling in him. He and
Brian were herded into one of them and were locked in by a bar placed in
sockets from the outside, with a chain hook below, so that the bar could not
be lifted unless the end of the chain were detached; and the other end of the
chain was fastened to the stone floor, out of reach of anyone behind the bars.
All this time the leader of the expedition, as Jim judged him to be, had said
nothing. But now he did.
 You will wait here, he said.  In time our Holy Grandmaster will have you
brought before him. Do not hope to escape. There is no way out.
He and the two who had herded Jim before them down to the cells turned and
left. Jim and Brian were at last alone, left in a silence so profound that it
almost seemed to thunder in Jim s ears. They looked at each other in the
yellowish, flickering light from a cresset at the far end of the cells, on the
wall through which the stairs descended to enter this place.
Brian still looked badly battered. But he was ignoring the fact, and his blue
eyes were bright with interest. Already he was carefully examining the bars
and as much as he could see of the room around them, including the ceiling and
floor. After a moment he looked back to Jim and spoke to him in a low murmur,
speaking almost into his ear.
 I see no way by which they could overhear what we say to each other here,
he said.  But I will wager such exists. Still, if we keep our voices down, and
speak only when close to each other, perhaps we can keep any from
understanding what we speak of, even if the sound itself can not be completely
unheard.
Jim nodded.
 Do you have any understanding of why they have brought us here? asked
Brian.  Or, James, do you have any plans about what we might do about it?
Jim put his head close to Brian s and answered with equal softness in his
friend s ear.
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 I don t know a thing about why they carried us away-just us-from that
caravan, he said.  The crazy thing is, it looks almost as if the raid was put
on only to get the two of us. Of course, there s no way of knowing what else
they might have taken from the caravan while they were there.
 I agree with you, answered Brian.  It is all passing strange. Where are we,
do you suppose?
 From the mention of a Grandmaster, said Jim,  I d guess we re in the
headquarters of the Assassins. Why, I don t know. Can you think of any
particular reason why anyone in this land wouldn t want us to find Geronde s
father, or why the Assassins wouldn t, either?
Brian shook his head.
 Well, I ll tell you one thing, Brian, Jim said.  If necessary, I can use
magic and get us out of this-that is, unless there s something in this castle,
or in this country, to stop it from working. But I don t think there is. So I
can almost promise you I ll get us away safely, no matter what happens. The
reason I haven t used it before this is because I m beginning to think that
for some reason someone might be wanting to know just how much I can do with
magic; so besides using as little magic as possible-I told you why I was doing
that-I m trying to use the least amount when I have to use it, and in its
simplest form. That s why I haven t healed our wrists where they had us tied
up. They d notice that right away.
 Oh, those marks? said Brian.  They are nothing, James. Nothing- that is,
unless they interfere with you doing-whatever you wish.
 They don t, said Jim.  Anyway, we re undoubtedly best acting like any two
ordinary people who ve been snatched up and brought here; and all we can do is
wait for an explanation. Actually I think one will-
He was interrupted suddenly by an unexpected but welcome voice.
 M lord! cried the familiar tones of Hob; and they both looked over to see
the little hobgoblin slipping between two of the bars. Just outside the bars
was a brown dog wagging its tail ingratiatingly.  Look who I brought, m lord!
 I tried to warn everyone in the caravan by barking, said the Djinni-dog.
 There re no dogs in the caravan. But either they did not rouse, or they were
fearful of looking to see what made a barking where no barking should be. But
I did rouse your hobgoblin, here. I did my best to save you, master!
 Did you? said Jim, still suspicious, for Kelb was clearly trying to imitate
the innocent, direct and almost childlike way of expressing himself that came
naturally to Hob.
 Oh, that was one of the things I was going to tell you, that night, m lord,
said Hob quickly.  At every cooking fire I visited all the men were telling
each other that they were going to sleep specially heavily. Then, after one of
them talked about it, the others would all look at each other strangely,
without saying anything more for a moment. But when I got back, you and m lord
Brian were both asleep-
 What is this? Brian was staring at Kelb.  A talking dog?
 It s a Djinni that wants my protection, said Jim.  I haven t made my mind
up yet- he added, enunciating clearly and looking directly and very hard at
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Kelb.  But there s one interesting thing. He s not trying to keep his voice
down at all, so everything he s said is being heard someplace in this castle.
Hob, you should remember that yourself. Everything you say that loudly is
possibly going to be heard and understood someplace. We re sure they ve got
ways of listening to us.
 But they aren t listening now, m lord, said Hob.  They ve all been having
some kind of meeting. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]