The Stranger laid the sword across his knees and smiled at her. It was the last expression she would have expected, after the last few minutes. Surprise momentarily robbed her of the ability to think clearly. The Stranger had to repeat his first question before she could answer him.

«Who are you?»

It didn't occur to her to lie. «I am the Lady Alanyra, Chief of Clan Gnyr.»

«Where am I?»

«You are in one of the chambers in the Reefs of the Clan.»

«Why am I here?»

Alanyra hesitated. Anger flickered in the Stranger's eyes. She could not keep out of her mind a picture of those hands working on her body with the intent to bruise flesh, break bones, send terrible pain shooting through her. Never mind that the man could not escape punishment for whatever he did to her, that his own death would be long and slow if he harmed her. That obviously didn't play any part in his thinking. He wanted answers to his questions and would go straight after them until he got them, however he needed to get them.

«Since I saw you killing the yulon on the reef, I have wanted to-«She hesitated. «Capture» didn't sound right. «I have wanted to meet you. Your fighting skills make me wonder that you are perhaps from no people in the world.»

Was the man hesitating, as if for once he was in doubt of what he should say? He must be! Alanyra suddenly found it easier to breathe.

«I am probably not from any people you have ever heard of,» the Stranger said. «I came a very long distance to travel and fight among the people of these oceans. I came to the people of the Sea Cities of Talgar first, so I fought among them against your people at first. But I do not hate your people.»

These last words were said as if there could be no possible doubt about them. And in fact Alanyra found it impossible to doubt them. She also found it impossible to keep her heart from pounding in terrible excitement. Would this Stranger stand apart from both the Sea Cities and the Sea Masters, to play the long-dreamed-of part in her plans? She found the emotions running through her at this thought so intense that she knew tears were welling up in her eyes. It was wrong that a Noble Lady of the Sea Masters should weep for joy in front of a man who might be from anywhere, for all his apparent virtues. But it was also inevitable.

«You do not hate the Sea Masters?» Her voice wasn't quite steady. But she knew that if she waited until her voice was steady, she would wait a very long time.

«No. Why should I? I come from a far-distant land, and neither you nor the people of the Sea Cities have done anything to make me hate them.» He hesitated. «I am not even sure why you hate each other. You seem very much alike, even to some of your names for the creatures of the sea. You both call the great reptiles that you have tamed for war yulons, for example.»

This time Alanyra couldn't have said a word to save her life. Her throat was too tight. This was the Stranger! He couldn't have taken any of the Truth-Finder drug. He must have realized her plans and done something to avoid taking it. But here he was, speaking as freely as if he were filled with it, saying things she had dreamed of hearing for five years. It was a terrible moment, to have such a long and dearly held dream coming true before her eyes.

And in the form of such a magnificent man, she reminded herself. That was very good fortune indeed.

She found herself shivering, not with cold, not with fear, and not-she thought-with desire. She felt and then saw the Stranger's eyes on her, and the shivering faded.

«What is your name?» she asked him.

There was no resentment in his voice as he replied. «Richard Blade.»

«What is your Clan or City?»

«I am of the City of London, in a land called England. It is so far away that you need not be ashamed to have not heard of it. But I am much given to traveling far, and I have seen and learned much. I am a warrior, as you see. But I am also other things.»

«You are very handsome,» said Alanyra, then could have bitten her tongue out of her head for saying that. She wanted to keep that locked away in her heart for the moment. But-had the Goddess in the Foam perhaps willed otherwise?

«Perhaps,» he said. «But I do not think I want you for my woman.»

Alanyra jerked as if she had been slapped. And she felt almost as if she had been. Did she look as though she wanted to be his woman? She, a Noble Lady of a High Clan of the Sea Masters, to be the woman of this-this footloose warrior of London? She stiffened with outraged dignity and tried to roll over, to turn her back on Blade. But she couldn't. She wriggled and twisted and writhed, but she couldn't shift her position. Eventually she gave up the struggle, tears of frustration in her eyes. She was hard put to keep herself from whimpering like a child.

Blade stared at her, his eyes expressionless and his face like a stone mask. He might have been mourning her humiliation. He might have been rejoicing in it. She couldn't tell, either way.

Then he threw back his head, his mouth opened to show a mass of very white teeth, and his laughter roared out. It echoed around the chamber, so loudly that Alanyra wondered if the guard below would hear it. She realized that she didn't want him to hear it. There was something in the air that she didn't want to see vanish, something that would vanish if a third person came up the shaft.

Blade stood up, lifting the sword. For a moment Alanyra felt a chill of fear. Then he flung it lightly out into the center of the pit. It fell with a faint splash and vanished in an instant down the shaft. Alanyra stared at the bubbles, then back to Blade. She was still staring at him when he stepped over to her and hauled her swiftly to her feet.

She leaned against him, feeling the hard muscles of his bare body, while his hands tore at her bonds. Once more the tough fibers of her robe snapped easily under those hands. Then the hands were not ripping off her bonds any more, but roaming over her body. She felt them glide delicately down her back, then cup her buttocks. They squeezed and pulled at the firm flesh, pressing her groin hard against his. She felt a warmth slowly beginning to grow there. Unmistakably there was also a growing and hardening in Blade's groin.

She took advantage of the new freedom of her own hands to raise them to Blade's head. She ran her fingers through his hair, twirling the long tough strands between them, then bringing her hands down to stroke his cheeks. Her grip on his face tightened, and she tried to pull it down to bring his lips against hers.

She might as well have tried to pull the head off a stone statue. The cords in Blade's neck stood out as he easily resisted the tug of her hands.

Then suddenly his eyes were looking into hers, his neck muscles relaxed, and his head swooped down. His lips pressed down on hers, strongly, insistently, the lips of a man with an utter conviction that he wants something and will get it. Blade opened his mouth, and his lips spread out to surround Alanyra's, curling over and under them, warm and seeking. Even more warm, even more seeking, his tongue crept out from between those white teeth, to play against her mouth. Her own tongue came out to meet his, as though it had been drawn out.

She could hear Blade's breathing quicken, and she began to feel her own doing the same. The warmth in her belly was growing faster and farther too. It was growing faster and farther than she had ever felt it grow with any man before. Only charging into a battle had ever made her feel this way. But now-

Now Blade's lips were pulling away from hers. A moment's frustration. Then she felt them caressing her throat, the sides of her neck, the lobes of her small ears. It was as though a spark-fish were sending little jots of its life-spirit through her. She twisted in his arms, and this time she did whimper. But it was not in frustration. Slowly she was losing the ability to sense anything outside the two of them, herself and Blade, standing here on the sand, slowly writhing against each other, slowly exciting each other to a higher and higher pitch.