"Now," said Aphris.

Kamchak then opened the box.

When Aphris heard the delicate click of the box lid it was all she could do not to turn and regard the prize that was to be hers, but she did not do so. She remained looking away, only lifting her chin a bit more.

"Now!" said Aphris of Turia, trembling with anticipation. What happened then was done very swiftly. Kamchak lifted from the box an object indeed intended to grace the throat of a girl. But it was a round metal ring, a Turian collar, the collar of a slave. There was a firm snap of the heavy lock in the back of the collar and the throat of Aphris of Turia had been encircled with slave steel! At the same instant Kamchak lifted her startled to her feet and turned her to face him, with both hands tearing the veil from her face! Then, before any of the startled Turians could stop him, he had purchased by his audacity a bold kiss from the lips of the astounded Aphris of Turia! Then he hurled her from him across and over the low table until she fell to the floor where Tuchuk slaves had danced for her pleasure. The quiva, ap- pearing as if by magic in his hand, warned back those who would press in upon him to revenge the daughter of their city. I stood beside Kamchak, ready to defend him with my life, yet as startled as any in the room at what had been done.

The girl now had struggled to her knees tearing at the collar. Her tiny gloved fingers were locked in it, pulling at it, as though by brute force she would tear it from her throat. Kamchak was looking at her. "Beneath your robes of white and gold," he said, "I smelled the body of a slave girl." "Sleen! Sleen! Sleen!" she cried.

"Replace your veil!" ordered Saphrar.

"Remove the collar immediately," commanded Kamras, plenipotentiary of Phanius Turmus, Administrator of Turia. Kamchak smiled. "It seems," he said, "that I have forgot- ten the key."

"Send for one of the Caste of Metal Workers!" cried Saphrar.

There were cries on all sides, "Slay the Tuchuk sleen!" "Torture for him!" "The oil of tharlarions!" "Leech plants" "Impalement!" "Tongs and fire!" But Kamchak seemed un- moved. And none rushed upon him, for in his hand, and he was Tuchuk, there gleamed the quiva.

"Slay him!" screamed Aphris of Turia, "Slay him!"

"Replace your veil," repeated Saphrar to the girl. "Have you no shame?"

The girl attempted to rearrange the folds of the veil, but could only hold it before her face, for Kamchak had ripped away the pins by which it was customarily fastened. Her eyes were wild with fury and tears.

He, a Tuchuk, had looked upon her face.

I was pleased, though I would not have admitted it, at Kamchak's boldness, for it was a face for which a man might risk much, even death in the torture dungeons of Turia, utterly beautiful though now, of course, transformed with rage, far more beautiful than had been that of the most beautiful of the slave girls who had served us or given us of the beauty of their dances.

"You recall, of course," Kamchak was saying, "that I am an ambassador of the Wagon Peoples and am entitled to the courtesies of your city."

"Impale him!" cried a number of voices.

"It is a joke," cried out Saphrar. "A joker A Tuchuk joker" "Slay him!" screamed Aphris of Turia.

But no one would move against the quiva.

"Now, gentle Aphris," Saphrar was purring, "you must be calm soon one from the Caste of Metal Workers will ap- pear to free you all will be well return to your own chambers."

"Nor" screamed Aphris. "The Tuchuk must be slain!" "It is not possible, my dear," wheezed Saphrar.

"You are challenged!" said Kamras, spitting to the floor at Kamchak's booted feet.

For an instant I saw Kamchak's eyes gleam and thought he might at the very table at which he stood accept the challenge of the Champion of Turia, but instead, he shrugged and grinned. "Why should I fight?" he asked.

It did not sound like Kamchak speaking.

"You are a coward!" cried Kamras.

I wondered if Kamras knew the meaning of the word which he had dared to address to one who wore the Courage Scar of the Wagon Peoples.

But to my amazement, Kamchak only smiled. "Why should I fight?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" demanded Kamras.

"What is to be gained?" inquired Kamchak.

"Aphris of Turia!" cried the girl.

There were cries of horror, or protest, from the men crowded about.

"Yes!" cried Aphris of Turia. "If you will meet Kamras, Champion of Turia, I, Aphris of Turia, will stand at the stake in Love War!"

Kamchak looked at her. "I will fight," he said.

There was a silence in the room.

I saw Saphrar, a bit in the background, close his eyes and nod his head. "Wily Tuchuk," I heard him mutter. Yes, I said to myself, wily Tuchuk. Kamchak had, by means of the very pride of Aphris of Turia, of Kamras, and the offended Turians, brought the girl by her own will to the stake of Love War. It was something he would not buy with the golden sphere from Saphrar the merchant; it was something he was clearly capable of arranging, with Tuchuk cunning, by himself. I supposed, naturally, however, that Saphrar, guard- ian of Aphris of Turia, would not permit this to occur. "No, my dear," Saphrar was saying to the girl, "you must not expect satisfaction for this frightful injury which has been wrought upon you must not even think of the games you must forget this unpleasant evening you must try not to think of the stories that will be told of you concerning this evening what the Tuchuk did and how he was permitted to escape with impunity."

"Never!" cried Aphris. "I will stand, I tell you! I will! I will!"

"No," said Saphrar, "I cannot permit it, it is better that the people laugh at Aphris of Turia and perhaps, in some years, they may forget."

"I demand to be permitted to stand," cried the girl. Then she cried, "I beg of you Saphrar, permit mel"

"But in a few days," said Saphrar, "you will attain your majority and receive your fortunes then you may do as you wish.»

"But it will be after the games!" cried the girl.

"Yes," said Saphrar, as though thinking, "that is true." "I will defend her," said Kamras. "I will not lose." "It is true you have never lost," wavered Saphrar. "Permit it!" cried several of those present.

"Unless you permit this," wept Aphris, "my honor will be forever stained."

"Unless you permit it," said Kamras sternly, "I may never have an opportunity to cross steel with this barbaric sleen." It then occurred to me, suddenly, that, following Gorean civic law, the properties and titles, assets and goods of a given individual who is reduced to slavery are automatically regarded as having been transferred to the nearest male relative or nearest relative if no adult male relative is avail- able or to the city or to, if pertinent, a guardian. Thus, if Aphris of Turia, by some mischance, were to fall to Kamchak, and surely slavery, her considerable riches would be immediately assigned to Saphrar, merchant of Turia. Moreover, to avoid legal complications and free the assets for investment and manipulation, the transfer is asymmetri- cal, in the sense that the individual, even should he somehow later recover his freedom, retains no legal claim whatsoever on the transferred assets.

"All right," said Saphrar, his eyes cast down, as though making a decision against his better judgment, "I will permit my ward, the Lady Aphris of Turia, to stand at the stake in Love War."

There was a cry of delight from the crowd, confident now that the Tuchuk sleen would be fittingly punished for his bold use of the richest daughter of Turia.

"Thank you, my guardian," said Aphris of Turia, and with one last vicious look at Kamchak threw back her head and with a swirl of her white gown, bordered with gold, walked regally from between the tables.

"To see her walk," remarked Kamchak, rather loudly, "one would hardly suspect that she wears the collar of a slave."