"For a man you are bold!"

"My lady-would you have me cringe?"

So Donal would have spoken and, for a moment, the illusion returned so that she trembled on the edge of throwing herself into his arms. Then she remembered her age, who he was and why he was here. Not why he had come-though he might think it just for his money, but why she had forced him to appear.

She said, "I delayed payment on that note for a reason. I wanted to see you again."

"My lady, you had only to command."

"Perhaps. Or you could have been in space by now, but never mind that." Her gesture dismissed the concept. "My Akita are dead. Did you know their prime function was to guard my granddaughter? Well, never mind, they are gone and can be replaced in time but, until then, I have need of dedication and strength to safeguard the heiress. I have decided that you are the most suitable person to undertake the responsibility. Lucita likes and trusts you and you have proved your abilities. Shall we regard the matter as settled?" She frowned as he made no answer. "Well?"

Dumarest said slowly, "You honor me, my lady, but I cannot accept the assignment."

"You cannot?"

"I have a ship, others dependent on what I do, a mission to be accomplished." He saw the expression on the raddled face, the anger glinting in the eyes. A woman rejected-maidservant or matriarch the reaction was the same. Only the threat was different.

"You refuse?" Her rage mounted as he nodded. "How dare you! Who are you to put self above the needs of Jourdan? My granddaughter needs to be protected and I have decided you are the best person to do it."

"No, my lady-you are."

"What?"

Dumarest said, "You are her blood. Her grandmother. Her ruler. If she cannot trust you then who can she turn to? And you, my lady-you hand her life to a stranger!"

He was a fool. One who failed to recognize her power and his own helplessness. One who made no effort to mask his contempt. An idiot who had lost command of his tongue. Not even her late consort would have dared to speak to her like that.

And yet there was something heroic in his folly. Watching him, fighting her anger, she could sense it. So an early ancestor might have stood as he defied the elements; ready to die but unwilling to yield. Displaying a pride she understood only too well.

Then, abruptly, as if she had been looking through a kaleidoscope which had moved to form a new picture from the old, she saw things as they really were. Not an ignorant savage standing in stupid defiance but an intelligent man fighting to gain advantage. One who had deliberately manipulated her emotions so as to create the earlier impression. A gambler who had risked and won.

She wondered if he guessed how close he had come to losing all.

Watching, waiting his moment, Dumarest said, "My lady, why do we argue when your granddaughter is in such danger? The Galya was sabotaged as you must know and the target included both you and Lucita."

"Which is why I want her protected!"

"No one man can do that. You must have the loyalty of guards and attendants-don't try to abrogate your responsibility."

She said tightly, "Say that again and you'll regret it. Lucita is my life. Yes, I know you saved her and you'll be paid for it, that I promise. The note will be met the next time it is presented-but to hell with the money. I want the girl to be safe!"

And, desperate, she had turned to the one man she thought could insure that. Held him by stopping payment of a just debt, forcing him to come to her, exerting a pressure he had withstood and turned against her. Showing her, too, that she had been wrong. No single guard could give total protection. Not a thousand if the enemy was strong and determined and had ambition enough and wealth enough to achieve the desired end.

And Lucita, dear God, was so small!

"Think, my lady," said Dumarest. "Don't let emotions rule your head. You must have enemies-who are they? Someone knew of your journey to collect Lucita. Someone must have wanted you both dead. A person who had the motive, means and opportunity. One or-" He broke off, looking at her face, the expression it bore. "My lady?"

"Nothing." She had been thinking of the tablets cluttering the desk in her office. How strange that he had followed her own line of reasoning. "Go on."

"One or more who could have conspired to act against you. Maybe someone of your party was responsible and could try again unless stopped."

"Who?" She glared her impatience. "Give me the name!"

"I can't," admitted Dumarest. "I don't know it. But you could have the information to find it. Who rode with you to collect Lucita and did not return with you on the Galya? Someone who could have pleaded urgent business to take care of or who'd fallen sick just before departure?" He saw the change of expression on her face. "There was someone?"

Tammi Canoyan-the bitch!

"The handler was contaminated," said Dumarest. "A virus affected the brain and caused a mental breakdown. He killed the navigator and two others. Then he rushed into the engine room and tried to open the generator. It blew in his face. My lady?"

He stepped closer in his concern, but she waved him back and plumped on a bench, face mottled as she fought for breath. Fought too the rage which threatened to overwhelm her.

Sonia had died of an infection-had Canoyan been close? She remembered the tablets and, in her mind, picked and adjusted, setting each in its place to build a pile which told its story. The woman had had the means and opportunity, and the motive was obvious. With both herself and Lucita dead the direct line would be ended and the way open for her to claim the throne.

Canoyan, she was sure of it-but how to find the proof?

Dumarest had left at noon and now it was long after dusk with stars shining like beckoning lanterns in the dark immensity of space. Ysanne wondered what had brought such a poetic fantasy to mind. The lights were stars and stars were nothing but suns burning with fading energy until they finally collapsed to form white dwarfs or, if they had been large enough to begin with, black holes or red giants or even to explode in ravening fury as novas. These facts of the universe she knew the way she knew that the touch of the night wind held a chill not born of the weather alone, or that the silver sheen of the sky was not wholly due to distant stars.

Standing at the head of the ramp she shivered and tried not to think of another night when the sky had been like enveloping mother-of-pearl and the wind warm and Dumarest close. Remembered too the way she had felt and then found the pain of his absence was a knife in her heart.

"Ysanne?" Andre Batrun had come to stand beside her, his hair reflecting the silver sheen which gave it added luster. He looked tired, shoulders stooped beneath his uniform, the insignia of his rank as bright as his hair. "You're worrying," he said. "Don't. It's a waste of energy."

"So tell me how."

"To stop worrying?" He smiled and reached for his snuff, snapping open the lid of the ornate box and taking a pinch of the powder to stand holding it between thumb and forefinger. "One way is to keep so busy you have no time for anything else."

"Is that why you've been working so hard?" She waited until he had taken the snuff. "Is it?"

"Certain things needed to be done."

"I know. Instruments to check for the dozenth time. Supplies to examine, the structure to test, even the cabin doors to be renumbered. Make-work, Andre, and we both know it. The Lucita's as ready as it will ever be."

The new name blazoned on the hull, stores stacked and the ship trimmed for journeying. Space was waiting-as soon as they got a generator.

"Ysolta was talking about the possibility of a cargo," said Batrun. "Staples to the mines then ore to the refinery on Myrtha. Little profit but it'll pay our way and we could haul ingots to Hago or Stave. Passengers too, and beasts-Craig's checked out the caskets. We'll take anything that comes."