The jeddak, Bar Comas, who was comparatively young, was the object
of the fierce and jealous hatred of his old lieutenant, Dak Kova,
the jed who had captured me, and I could not but note the almost
studied efforts which the latter made to affront his superior.
He entirely omitted the usual formal salutation as we entered the
presence of the jeddak, and as he pushed me roughly before the
ruler he exclaimed in a loud and menacing voice.
"I have brought a strange creature wearing the metal of a Thark
whom it is my pleasure to have battle with a wild thoat at the
great games."
"He will die as Bar Comas, your jeddak, sees fit, if at all,"
replied the young ruler, with emphasis and dignity.
"If at all?" roared Dak Kova. "By the dead hands at my throat but
he shall die, Bar Comas. No maudlin weakness on your part shall
save him. O, would that Warhoon were ruled by a real jeddak rather
than by a water-hearted weakling from whom even old Dak Kova could
tear the metal with his bare hands!"
Bar Comas eyed the defiant and insubordinate chieftain for an
instant, his expression one of haughty, fearless contempt and hate,
and then without drawing a weapon and without uttering a word he
hurled himself at the throat of his defamer.
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