their magnificent entirety, of fabulous value. But the chief virtue of the heirloom lay not in its marketable worth, but in the legendary credits supposedly bestowed upon it by the multiple blessings of the Seven Gods when, eons ago, they granted the rights of kingship to the Ancient One who had been the first King of Forthe and the subsequent founder of the dynasty. When the reigning king held serious council, or signed a treaty with a neighboring power, or on rare occasions was called upon to dispense justice upon an important trial or disagreement, he solemnly and reverently took down the gold-clasped chain of matchless diamonds and with his own hands placed them about his neck. From the decision he then rendered there could be no appeal; it became immutable and final. It was the Necklace, apparently, that gave verdict, not the man or even the king.
Hence the reasoning of Karlk, the magician: Many kings had worn the Necklace in judicial omnipotence, until the people of Forthe saw the wearer as a representative of the Seven Gods; if a man wore it, whether or not he bore the mark of a crown, would not that man, by the very right of his having procured the sacred authority from a lackadaisical monarch, claim the right of kingship? And what man in all Forthe possessed the daring, initiative, cunning and combined fearlessness and resourcefulness, accomplishments so necessary to the undertaking of the theft, but Rald, prince of thieves? A barbarous type, perhaps, but one who, drunk with power and recently acquired authority, should be easy handling. A magician could never be a king, he knew, over people already in fear of evil enchantments; but a clever fightingman could hold both the throne and the loyalty of its subjects while he, Karlk, pulled strings to make the puppet dance. A beautiful dream come true, reasoned Karlk, because of flawless logic.
The thief gazed upon destiny in the shape of diamonds and dreamed a dream of magnificence, forgetting he stood sacrilegiously on forbidden ground in a castle holding torture and death for a captured criminal. The sparkle of the jewels fascinated him and he crept nearer to their dazzling beauty as a hypnotized bird approaches the maw of a deadly snake. For a moment he forgot Karlk and kingship and power. Primarily, he was a thief born and bred—and here were jewels!
The cool voice from behind fell upon his ears as if the speaker had wielded a club.
"Greetings, oh prowler of the night! You must be either a very brave or a very foolish man to come here!"
Rald leaped instinctively, twisting in midair, and came down on his toes a full six feet from where he had been standing. When he left the floor his back had been presented to the doorway; now he confronted the intruder with drawn sword and breath hissing from between clenched teeth. No cat of the jungles could have reacted more animal-like.
"By the rump of Nargarth!" swore the newcomer with feeling. "Quit jumping like an ape!"
"Faith!" exclaimed Rald. His hand had stayed his sword-point within scant inches of a woman's breast. "Faith!"
"By the hounds of——"
"Easy!" he grinned, regaining natural composure. "Easy, or I blush!"
For a pair of seconds they surveyed each other in silence.
Rald looked upon a bravely held figure in night attire. Even the formless garment, loosely clasped about the waist by a gold-threaded belt, could not disguise the curving beauty of a flawless shape. The long white robe fell in revealing
