"In the meanwhile I have no clothes, not even a comb or a toothbrush. Perhaps you could arrange for another raid so you could fetch me my things?" As if she had not learned that to make jokes would only upset them.

"We would not be prepared to make a raid solely for the purpose of getting your possessions. It is very foolish of you to think that."

Mara now knew that whatever else she might suffer with the Hennes, boredom was likely to be the worst.

"What is the real reason behind General Shabis's demand for a truce?"

"He believes it would benefit the whole country."

"I am asking you for the real reason."

"That is the reason. He would like the war to end. He says you have been at war for twenty years and neither side has gained anything." "But we often win our battles with them."

"But the Four Generals administer the territory of the Agres, as they have done for years, and you hold this territory — nothing changes."

"It is not correct to say that," said General Izrak, apparently agitated, for his eyes seemed to twitch a little in their sockets. "We won a considerable tract of their territory a month ago. It was in the trenches that mark the division between our armies, on our western front and their eastern front. A year ago they won about as much territory as is occupied by this camp. A month ago we won it back. We lost only five hundred soldiers and they lost four hundred."

"General Shabis would consider that an unnecessary loss of life of soldiers who could be better occupied."

"Occupied doing what?" said the General, getting more and more upset. And all around the table the large, glistening Hennes faces turned this way and that, and their eyes flickered.

"Building towns. Improving farms. Clearing rivers. Making children. Growing food."

Down came the General's great fist on the table and then all the Hennes banged their fists, exactly like him, one after the other.

"We all get all the food we need. We raid them and get food, and besides our civilian populations grow food and we take what we need from them."

It was clear that Shabis's demand for a truce was not going to succeed. She wished she could tell him so. It occurred to her that he had wanted a spy in the Hennes camp and here she was. But the Hennes had a spy from the other camp — herself, for she could tell them everything she knew. And she was ready to do so. If they knew just how well organised, how satisfactory, how stable, was the rule of the Four Generals, would they then — the Hennes — be prepared to change their ideas? Did they ever change? Could they?

In came two of the tall, beautiful wall-people, carrying trays. Their elegance made these gross, ugly people even more repulsive. Did they know that long, long ago — thousands of years? — their ancestors had lived in a wonderful city that was only a night's walk away, and their civilisation had, probably, influenced all of Ifrik?

Each Hennes had in front of him a plate of food. It was nothing like as good as the food in the other camp. They began to eat. Then Mara saw that these were not all men: some were female, with flattened bulges in front. There was no other sign of their being women. They all ate slowly and methodically, while the two elegant slaves stood waiting.

"You will get your food in your own quarters," said the General. "May I ask a question?"

They all appeared to be surprised. "We do not talk and eat at the same time. This discussion is at an end. There might be things we want to ask tomorrow."

And Mara was taken to her prison hut by the guard. She tried to get him to talk to her, but he answered, "You will be informed."

She was brought food. How could she escape? If she were made a soldier, then perhaps... She was taken for the routine run that afternoon, and again saw the General and his staff on the way back. With normal people, their faces could be read as saying they had never seen or heard of her, but with the Hennes, who knew?

In the morning she was brought two uniforms, of the kind they all wore: brownish top and trousers, and a brown woollen cap, with a flap in front that could be buttoned back. Two pairs of light bark shoes, clearly not meant for marching in. Some brushwood sticks for her teeth. Soap. A small bag or pouch to be attached at the shoulders to hang at the back. This was the equipment, evidently, for a female soldier, for as well came a bag of rags and a cord to tie them on with. Also, a message from the General, that when she knew she was not pregnant, she must send him the evidence.

Her guard informed her, "You are no longer a prisoner. We shall not be locking this door."

She thought of joking, "If I am not a prisoner, would it be in order for me to walk out of this camp and go back to the Agres?" But she knew this poor man's mental apparatus would be so discommoded he would have to run to the General for instructions.

In four days she would have some blood to show the General, and meanwhile she would use the time to get what information she could by using her eyes. No one took any notice of her as she wandered about — or so it seemed. She was surprised at the apparent confusion of this camp. Then she saw there were blocks of order, unconnected with the others. A block of tents was neatly set out, with tidy paths between, but this was set at an angle to some rows of sheds, equally well arranged, and both were unrelated to an adjacent little suburb which itself was composed of rows of little boxes. To get from one part to another of this camp — but it was a town, really, since it had been here, clearly, so long — was difficult, for she found herself following the neatest of paths, hoping to achieve the next settlement, but it ended perhaps against the wall of a house, or simply stopped. Storehouses, water tanks, stood here and there, and there was a watchtower in the very centre of the camp, or town, when surely it should have been at its edge?

Finding herself looking westwards, on a well-used road — the one she had been brought on — she simply began walking, thinking she might not be noticed; but she had not reached the camp's outskirts before she heard a soft thudding of feet on dust and turned to see a graceful creature, a Ne-anthes, flying rather than walking, long delicate hands outstretched. "You must come back. You are not allowed."

They walked back together. Mara said that she wished she could have a writing stick and some writing leaves, to learn more Charad, but the girl replied that learning was not encouraged among the soldiers. "And particularly not the Neanthes. They are afraid of us, you see." And having reached Mara's hut, this Neanthes went off, seeming to dance rather than walk, sending Mara a delightful conspiratorial smile.

On the proper day, Mara sent the General a message that there was blood, and therefore no pregnancy; but back came the Neanthes to say she had been instructed to see the blood with her own eyes. "But I could have pricked my finger," Mara whispered, and the whisper came back, "You see? they're stupid." She ran off to the General with the evidence and brought back the message, "You have blood. You are therefore not pregnant. You will begin training tomorrow."

The next day she found the new recruits were not all Hennes. On the drill ground were a hundred recruits, males and females, mostly Hennes, with a few Neanthes, but about a third were people Mara had not seen before. They were small, stocky, strong, yellowish, with the knobbly look that Dann had had when he was underfed — and presumably Mara herself. These were Thores, and they had come voluntarily to the camp to join the army where they would be fed: their home province was impoverished because the Hennes had raided it for food recently. It was immediately evident that the tall, long-legged Neanthes could not drill together with the small, short-legged Thores, since the stride of one was twice that of the other, and the new recruits were sorted out into six platoons of Hennes, ten each, three of Thores, and one of Neanthes. Mara was with the Neanthes. She was not as tall, as lithe, or as slender, but she was not very different from their shortest.