He saw the newcomer step
almost within arm's reach of the other. He saw him stop, an
expression of malevolent hatred upon his features. He saw the
great sword swing through the arc of a great circle, gathering
swift and terrific momentum from its own weight backed by the
brawn of the steel thews that guided it; he saw it pass through
the feathered skull of the Manatorian, splitting his sardonic
grin in twain, and open him to the middle of his breast bone.
As the dead hand relaxed its grasp upon Tara's wrist the girl
leaped forward, without a backward glance, to Gahan's side. His
left arm encircled her, nor did she draw away, as with ready
sword the Gatholian awaited Fate's next decree. Before them
Tara's deliverer was wiping the blood from his sword upon the
hair of his victim. He was evidently a Manatorian, his trappings
those of the Jeddak's Guard, and so his act was inexplicable to
Gahan and to Tara. Presently he sheathed his sword and approached
them.
"When a man chooses to hide his identity behind an assumed name,"
he said, looking straight into Gahan's eyes, "whatever friend
pierces the deception were no friend if he divulged the other's
secret.
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