"I trust there will be no need for that?"

"I have conferred with my eiodarks. Like myself they are reluctant to cede Scharrode territory. There are also practical difficulties in the way."

"All very well to talk of practicality," said Rianlle, still heavily jovial.

"The fact remains that I have set my heart upon Whispering Ridge."

"The decision really lies beyond my discretion," said Efraim. "No matter how much I might wish to oblige you I am bound by our covenant with the Fwai-chi."

"I would like to see a copy of this covenant. Perhaps it was established for some fixed duration of time."

"I am not sure that a written version exists."

Rianlle leaned back in his chair in disbelief. "Then how can you so staunchly affirm its reality? Where have you learned its provisions? Through your own recollection?"

"The Fwai-chi have described the covenant; they are quite definite."

"The Fwai-chi are notoriously vague. On so tenuous a basis would you thwart the understanding between myself and the Kaiark Jochaim?"

"I would not wish to do so under any circumstances. Perhaps you will supply me with a copy of this agreement that I may show my eiodarks."

Rianlle stared at him coldly. "I would find undignified the necessity to document my clear recollections."

"Your recollections are not in question," Efraim assured him. "I only wonder how the Kaiark Jochaim could bring himself to ignore the Fwai-chi covenant. I must search my archives with great diligence."

"You are unwilling to cede Whispering Ridge on a basis of trust and cooperation?"

"I certainly cannot make important decisions precipitously."

Rianlle clamped shut his mouth and swung around in his chair. "I commend to your attention the artistry of Berhalten, who has a novel concept to introduce."

Berhalten, having completed his preparations, struck a rod with his knee, to sound a reverberant gong. From the passage seven pages in scarlet and white livery ran forth. Each earned on a silver tray a small ewer. Into each of these ewers BerhaIten placed a cylinder of a solid substance, layered in eight colors, whereupon the gages took up tray and ewer and set it before each person at the table. Berhalten then inclined his head to Rianlle, closed up his cart, and stood waiting.

Rianlle said, "Berhalten has discovered an amusing new principle. Notice the golden button on top of the ewer. Press this button; it releases an agent to activate the odorifer. You will be charmed..."

Rianlle conducted the group to a balcony overlooking a large circular stage, constricted to represent a Rhune landscape. To right and left waterfalls cascaded from stone crags, forming streams which flowed into a central pool. A

chime sounded, to initiate a wild clamor of gongs and florid bruehorns, controlled by a staccato brazen tone which varied in only three degrees. 1 From opposite directions advanced two bands of warriors in fanciful armor, grotesque metal masks, and helmets crested with spikes and barbs. They advanced with stylistic kicks and curious bent-legged strides, then attacked and fought in ritual attitudes to the wailing clatter of martial instruments. Rianlle and Singhalissa, at one side, spoke together briefly. Efraim sat at the far end with Sthelany beside him. Destian conversed with Maerio, his exact profile tilted to advantage. The Kraike Dervas sat staring at the ballet with eyes that seemed not to follow the movement. Sthelany turned a glance toward Efraim which in those uncertain days before mirk might have caused him inner palpitations. She spoke in a soft voice: "Do you enjoy this dance?"

"The performers are very skillful. I am not a good judge of such things."

"Why are you so distant? You have hardly spoken for days."

"You must forgive me; I find the effort of ruling Scharrode no easy matter."

"When you traveled off-planet, you must have known many interesting events."

"True."

"Are the folk of the outer worlds as gluttonous and sebal as we tend to believe?"

"Their habits certainty are different from those of the Realms."

"And how did you regard these folk? Were you appalled?"

"I was in no condition to worry about anything but my own troubles."

"Ah! Cannot you answer me without evasion?"

"In all honesty, I fear that my casual remarks, should they be reported to your mother, might well be distorted and used to discredit me."

Sthelany sat back. For several moments she watched the ballet, which now had reached a climax with the entry of the two legendary champions Hys and Zan-Immariot.

Sthelany again turned to Efraim. "You misjudge me. I do not tell everything to Singhalissa. Do you think that I do not feel stifled at Benbuphar Strang? I yearn for new experience! Perhaps you will think ill of me for my candor, but sometimes I constrain myself to prevent outbursts of emotion. Singhalissa glorifies rigid convention; I often feel that convention must apply to others but not me. Why should folk not decorously sip wine together as they do in Port Mar? You need not look at me with such wonder; I will show you that I too can transcend convention!"

"Such occasions might well relieve the tedium. However, Singhalissa would surely disapprove."

Sthelany smiled. "Need Singhalissa know everything?"

"Very definitely not. Still she is an expert both at conducting intrigues and at sniffing them out."

"We shall see." Sthelany gave a breathless little laugh and sat back in her chair. On the stage Hys and Zan-Immariot had fought to mutual exhaustion. The lights dimmed; the instrumental tones descended in pitch and tempo, then became silent, save for a thrilling resonance of softly rubbed gongs. "Mirk!" whispered Sthelany.

Out upon the stage bounded three figures in costumes of black horn and lacquered beetle-back, wearing demon-masks.

Sthelany leaned closer to Efraim. "The three avatars of Kro: Maiesse, Goun, and Sciaffrod. Notice how the champions strive! Ah! they are slain. The demons dance in triumph!" Sthelany turned toward Efraim; her shoulder touched his. "How it must be on the one-sun worlds where day and mirk alternate!"

Efraim glanced sidewise. Sthelany's face was close; her eyes shone in the stage glow. Efraim said: "Your mother looks this way. Peculiar! She seems neither surprised nor annoyed that we talk in an intimate manner."

Sthelany stiffened and leaning forward watched the demons stamping the corpses of the dead heroes into the dust, throwing their heads low, tossing. them high, plunging arms low, thrusting them high.

Later, as the four guests took their leave, Efraim had a moment to pay his respects to Maerio. She said, somewhat wistfully, "I did not appreciate that you had become friendly with Sthelany. She is most fascinating."

Efraim managed a painful grin, "Appearances can be deceiving. Can you, will you, be discreet?"

"Of course."

"I believe that Singhalissa instructed Sthelany to pretend intimacy, to beguile me into a foolish act whereby she might discredit me with the Scharde eiodarks.

In fact - "

Maerio asked breathlessly, "In fact, what?"

Efraim found that he could not express himself both with precision and delicacy,

"I will tell you some other time. But it is you, not Sthelany, whom I find fascinating."

Maerio's eyes suddenly glistened. "Good-by, Efraim."

As Efraim turned away he surprised Sthelany's gaze upon him, and it seemed that he saw there a hurt, wild, desperate expression. This was the same face, Efraim reminded himself, that had indifferently considered the workings of a toy puzzle while two men with mace, dagger, and sack waited by the door.

Efraim went to make his formal farewell to the Kaiark Rianlle. "Your hospitality is on a most magnificent scale. We could not think to duplicate it at Benbuphar Strang. Still, I am hoping that before long you will return our visit, in company with the Kraike and the Lissolet."