"Animals are not men."

"Perhaps not, my lady, but the same rule applies. A man is nothing if he is not alive-dead he can only feed the ground."

"On Zakym men do not truly die," said Lavinia swiftly. "No human dies. They are changed. Delusia is proof of that."

"Proof?"

"You have seen it, Earl. You know."

He said, dryly, "You believe the dead return to confer with you. That, at certain times, you break some barrier or that some barrier is broken. But always those you see are those you remember. Always, am I right?"

"Yes, but-what has that to do with it? They are real. They talk and smile and listen. You have seen them for yourself. That man you tried to kill-proof, Earl! Proof!"

He heard the conviction in her voice, saw it in her eyes, the stance of her body. To argue against faith was to try and blow out a sun. The evidence was there, to her beyond question, a comfort she could not reject.

"Earl?"

"My lady, I am a stranger to this world, alive only because of your hospitality. Who am I to question your ways?"

"But-"

"Lavinia!" Roland rested his hand on her arm. "You upset yourself without cause. Not all worlds know what we know. Delusia is unique to Zakym. It takes time to understand."

The man had traveled and would know more than he said. Dumarest glanced at the sky, at the twin suns with their tremendous energy-potential, solar furnaces blasting radiation into space. A flood which was subtly altered when the suns merged to become a pattern of forces which distorted the micro-currents of the brain and so create hallucinations. Fragments of memory, revived, projected, given attributes which existed only in the minds of the beholder.

Delusions which would form the basis of a religion, a faith, a way of life.

"Earl?" Lavinia took a step towards him, her eyes searching his face. "You understand?"

A person who communed with the dead. A tall and lovely woman whose hair glowed with the lambent sheen of purple light from the setting suns. One who flushed a little as she felt her body respond to his masculinity.

Roland, watching, said abruptly, "It's getting late. We had best go below."

Chapter Twelve

The room was similar to others he had known; the walls of stone softened with hanging fabrics, the floor of polished wood, the bed soft and the covers delicately embroidered with a variety of hues and patterns. Dumarest lifted one and let it run through his fingers. It held an engaging primitiveness and, on more sophisticated worlds, would have commanded a high price.

Letting it fall Dumarest crossed to the window. It was small, fitted with hexagonal panes, looking on to a shaft faced with white stone. Reflected light from one side and above revealed another chamber, more lay to the sides and lower down. No window faced another. The panes, locked in their frame, were impossible to open.

A knock, and a servant entered bearing a lighted lamp. Setting it on a small table the girl curtsied.

"My lord, your bath is ready and soon it will be curfew."

"Thank you." Dumarest had heard the throb of the gong before. "Does it always sound at night?"

"At dark, yes, my lord. The castle is sealed then."

"Totally?" He smiled at her blank expression. "If I wanted to go out could I?"

"Out, my lord?" the concept was beyond her comprehension. "Go out? But why?"

"To take a walk, maybe. Could I? Is there a gate?"

"No." She shuddered a little. "Not open, my lord. But it would be madness to go out after dark. Madness!"

"Why?"

"The-my lord, you must excuse me. I have duties to attend to. Things to be done before curfew."

He gestured dismissal and returned to the window. Leaning against the panes he stared up at the sky. Only a little was visible, a deep indigo in which shone fitful gleams, the patch edged with a rim of stone. As he watched shapes appeared; men who lifted something to let it fall and block the opening. A seal of some kind which shut out the world beyond.

The throb of the gong came as he entered the bath. It thrummed through the building, creating tintinnabulations on all sides so that the very air quivered to the solemn beat.

Dumarest ducked his head, felt the vibration through the water and rose to see Roland standing beside the tub. He handed Dumarest a towel, watched with envious eyes as he dried himself, the fabric rasping over the firm muscles of shoulders and back, the lean lines of hips and waist.

Without preamble he said, "On the promenade, when you tried to kill me, what did you see?"

"An enemy."

"And you struck out like that? Without thought or hesitation?"

"Should I have waited for him to kill me first?"

"Perhaps not." Roland found a chair and sat, thoughtful. "As you may have noticed, Earl, we are a peaceful race. The thought of violence is strange to us. We live now as we have lived for centuries-in common harmony. There are minor frictions, of course, we are individuals and that is inevitable, but the turning to violence which is so common on other worlds is not in our nature. You-" He broke off, looking at his hands. "You are a stranger among us-do you understand what I am trying to say?"

"Tell me."

"Lavinia is a very beautiful woman as you must have noticed. She is, however, on the edge of marrying one of our number."

"You?"

"The Lord Gydapen Prabang. He has a great influence and the marriage must take place if certain unpleasant effects are to be avoided. You are an intelligent man, Earl. You must have noticed how attracted Lavinia is to you. I can understand that. Against the rest of us you are-unusual. But you have no roots here, no responsibilities. Perhaps you consider you are in debt towards us?"

Dumarest nodded, saying nothing.

"It is something I regret having to mention but I am left with little choice. You could, if you wished, cause great damage. Lavinia-"

"Is a woman old enough to make up her own mind."

"True, but, against your experience, she is little more than a child. I saw your expression when on the promenade. You said nothing but I knew what you were thinking. Lavinia believes in delusia, you do not. Think of the gap which that alone forms between you. And there are others."

As he paused Dumarest said, knowing the answer, "What do you want me to do?"

"Be cold. Turn her away from you. Save her marriage and, at the same time, save this world."

"Is the marriage as important as that?"

"Yes." Roland shook his head as he saw Dumarest's incredulity. "You cannot understand, but take my word for it, please. If you accept that you are in debt then settle it this way. Do as I ask."

And if he refused? On other worlds the answer would have been direct; a stab in the back, an assassin hired, poison slipped into food or wine. Death or maiming delivered with merciless precision. Great Families knew how to take care of their own.

But here?

The fact that Roland was pleading was answer enough. Proof of his fear and proof of more than he realized.

Dumarest said, evenly, "I am a traveler. If I had money enough I would take passage on the first ship to leave."

"That can be arranged!" The man's relief was obvious. "Money can be found!"

"Then we are agreed?"

"Yes, Earl, we are agreed." Roland stepped towards the door. "Dinner will be in thirty minutes. A servant will guide you when you are ready."

It was a long and leisurely affair; dishes rich in protein served in a variety of ways; little morsels of meat wrapped in leaves, fruits, dusted with crushed nuts, dipped in astringent sauces, charred in flame, steeped in compotes of a dozen kinds. Salvers held items of pastry, blends of creams and pastes, miniature figures of succulent crispness, oozing semi-liquid delights. There were wines; some tart and refreshing which cleansed the palate, others warm and tantalizing, chilled and spiced, tasting of fruit and bitter roots. One holding within its purple depths the taste of effulgent bubbles.