"The body was never recovered," I said.

"It would make a difference to a Tuchuk," said Kamchak, of the Tuchuks.

A cold wind swept across the flat summit of Ar's Cylinder of Justice.

The stones were cold some twenty passangs west of the Casmu-Kaiila camp at Two Featers.

Again I held grass and earth with Kamchak, of the Tuchuks. I could fee it, cold in my hands, between my fingers.

It began to rain. The rain washed the dirt and grass from my hands. The bridges of Tharna had been gray and cool in the soft, long, slow rain.

In this distance heard the roars of the crowds in Ar's Stadium of Tarns.

I emerged from the baths of Ar. They semed suddenly cold.

The silver mask seemed unnaturally large. The women's voice, from behind it, seemingly far away, was wild with rage. "We shall meet again!" I heard.

The tarn smote its way from the roof of the palace. Are tore past us.

The Dora was a ship, a tarn ship, a ram ship, shallow-drafted, stright-keeled, singl-banked, latten-rigged, carvel-built, painted gree, difficult to detect in the rolling waters of Thassa, our of Port Kar.

Lara, who had been Tatrix of Tharna, kneeling before me on a scarlet rug, in the camp of Targo, the Silver, lifted, suppilicating, holding them in her hands, two yellow cords to me.

Misk, at night, stood in the grasses near the Sardar, loftly, slender, grand against the moons, on a small bill, the wind moving his antennae.

I should have returned that night, perhaps, to the tavern of Sarpedon in Lydius, to see Vella dance. I had had business.

How splendid women look in the collars of men!

The sky was white with lightning. There was a great crash of thunder.

"It is a hurricane of stones!" cried Hassan, the wind tearing back his burnoose.

"Maybe it will be cold tonight," speculated Imnak, bending over the slate point of his harpoon, methodically sharpening it with a stone, in the light of the small sleen-oil lamp.

"Yes," I agreed.

The northern waters are cold. Torrents descended, lashing the sea. The serpent of Ivar Forkbeard, its mast and spar lashed down, pitched in the waves near the Skerry of Einar. I heard Ivar Forkbeard's great laugh.

Lightning crashed above the red crags of the Voltai.

"Let him be whipped," said Marlenus of Ar.

Blows fell.

My cheek lay on the cold wet stones. One does not leave the vision place. Rain fell. I put out my hand and clutched ice. It rattled and struck about me, leaping up from the stones. My back was cut. The white clay on my body was streaked. I covered my head and lay on the stones. One does not leave the vision place.

It was hot.

I could hear the birds in the jungle of the Ua.

"Let us continue on," said Kisu, and, again, the river before us, broad between the moist, tangled green thickets of the banks, backed on each side by the enclosing jungle, we dipped our paddles into the muddy, sluggish water.

I felt lightheaded. Perhaps it was the sun. The Ur force is being disrupted, I heard. It seemed the ground was far beneath me. My feet could hardly touch it.

I lay on my back. The high, hot sun of the Tahari burned in the sky.

"Drink," said Hassan, bending over me. "Alas," he said, "the water bag is empty."

"At least," said Samos, "it is cooler now. That is a relief."

"Yes," I said.

"I am sorry you are so hungry," said Imnak. "I would like to give you something to eat, but there is no food in the cam. I think maybe one should go hunting."

"Yes," I said. "Let us go hunting."

"Are you not coming?" asked Imnak.

"I am weak," I said. "I am tired. I think I will lie here for a little while."

"You have drunk very little, and you have not eaten in three days," said Imnak.

"Yes," I said.

"That is probably why you are so hungry," speculated Imnak.

"That is probably it," I agreed.

"There is a storm coming, Captain," said Thunock. "Sensible ships, in such a season, are safe in port."

"Even warriors long sometimes for the sight of their own flags, stop friendly walls, for the courtyards of their keeps, for the hearths of their halls. Thus admit the Codes."

I struck the sword from the hand of Marlenus of Ar.

"One must seek medicine helpers in certain ways," said Canka. "If you would do this thing, you must do so in the correct manner."

"I will abide your wishes," I said.

"There is no assurance the medicine helper will come," said Kahintokapa.

"I understand," I said.

"In seeking medicine helpers, sometimes men die," said Kahintokapa.

"I understand," I said.

"This thing is not easy," said Cuwignaka.

"I understand," I said.

The shield of Hci rose like a moon, inexorably, exposing him to the lance of the Yellow Knife. The moon raced through the clouds. There are many ways to understand what one sees.

"A storm is coming, Captain," said Thurnock.

A small package, oblone, heavy, brought from among the articles in Grunt's lodge, in the festival camp, lay near me on the stones.

I struggled to sit up, cross-legged, on the stones. I put my hands on my knees.

I felt rain.

Lightning burst in the sky and thunder rolled and crashed about me, like the waves between the banks of the horizons.

Torrents of cold rain desceneded in diagonal sheets, pounding at the rocks, tearing at the leaves of nearby trees.

"Who is that woman?" I asked.

"It is said she was once the daughter of Marlenus of Ar." I was told. "Then, for dishonoring him, she was disowned." Her figure, veiled, clad in the robes of concealment, had vanished, gone from the corridor.

"You are a weakling!" she cried, in the hall of Samos. "I hate you!"

"You would let me go," she asked, "rather than throw me to your feet and whip me, and master me?"

"Give her passage to Ar," I said.

"Here is the slave, Captain," said Thurnock. He threw her to the tiles before my curule chair. "On your knees before your master, Slave," he said.

She looked up at me.

I fondled the whip, thoughfully, idly, that lay across my knees.

"I love you," cried Vella, suddenly beside me, kneeling at the side of my curule chair, her hands on my arm. "I love you! I will please you more. I will please you a thousand times more!"

Lightning lit the sky. Thunder cracked. Rain tore its way downward.

"It is a severe storm," said Ivar Forkbeard, near me, on the deck of his serpent.

The lightning again illuminated the stormy sky and the driving torrents of rain, and then the lightning and rain were gone, and then there were great ringing blows, and the great hammer of Kron, of the Metal Workers, lifting and falling, smote on a mighty anvil, showering sparks in the night, which fell into the calm sea and glowed there like diamonds, and I rolled to my back and looked upwards to see that the diamonds were in the sky, and were stars.

It beings in the sweat lodge. This is a small lodge, rather oval and rounded. A man may not stand upright within it. One constructs a framework of branches. This framework is then covered with hides. In the center there is a hole, in which the hot stones, passed in from the outside on a forked stick, are placed. Cups of water are poured on the stones. When the stones cool they are removed from the lodge and reheated. There are many rituals and significances connected with the sweat lodge, having to do with such things as the stones, the fire, the orientation of the lodge, the path between the lodge and the fire, the amounts and ways in which the water is poured, and the number of times the lodge is opened. I shall not enter inot these matters in depth. Suffice it to say that the ceremony of the sweat lodge is detailed, complex, sophisticated and highly symbolic ritual. The purification of the bather is its pricipal objective, the readying of the bather for the awesome task of seeking the dream or vision. My helpers, tending the fire and aiding with the stones, were Canka and Cuwignaka.