"Earl!" The hand which gripped his tightened. "I had to do it. You understand? To win-nothing else mattered. To win at any cost. You taught me that, my darling. Earl! I love you!"

Blood reddened her lips as Dumarest lifted his free hand to touch her throat and search for the carotids. Vardoon knocked it away before he could apply merciful pressure.

"No, Earl, not that!" The box in his hand opened to reveal clustered golden pearls. "This!"

The nectar of heaven.

Vardoon gave it and Dumarest watched as, smiling, she died.

A wind had carried rain from the sea, a thin downpour which left sparkling droplets on the shrubs and trees, to hang like transient gems on the perimeter fence of the field. Underfoot the ground was dark with a rich, brown dampness which would soon dry beneath the heat of the sun. As the clouds to the north would thin and fray apart to reveal the distant loom of the storm-wracked hills.

Kicking a stone, Vardoon said, "You don't have to go, Earl. There's a home for you here for as long as you want it."

"I know."

"A safe place. If anyone comes looking for you they'll be wasting their time." He paused then said abruptly, "She loved you. I guess you know that. In her way she really loved you."

Dumarest looked at the sky, not wanting to answer.

"Not that it matters." Vardoon sucked in his breath and shook his head. "It's all over now. That lunatic! If it hadn't been for him she'd be alive this moment."

And he would be a helpless prisoner. A point Dumarest didn't mention as he remained silent about others. Instead he said, "So you're staying."

"Until things get sorted out." Vardoon looked at the ship waiting on the field; a small, battered trader on which Dumarest had booked passage. "About money, Earl. You gave your share to Bulem and the rest is tied up as registered assets. It can't be touched while things remain as they are. All we have is the eggs used to dazzle the marks. It's yours together with this." A bag accompanied the box. "Some of Fiona's jewelry. All the cash I could find. The cost of maybe a dozen High passages. Wait for the next ship and it could be a lot more."

"This will do." To wait was to meet the cybers who would be already on their way. Dumarest looked to where a monk stood by the fence. "I'll be back."

Tobol greeted him with a smile. "An old custom," he said. "One I like to observe; to wish a friend a pleasant journey and to see him on his way."

"You think of me as a friend?"

"You consider yourself an enemy?"

"Of the Church? No." Dumarest looked at where Vardoon waited. "Will there be trouble?"

"Over the inheritance? No. There are records and they will prove his claim. He is extremely reluctant to make it but I think he has been persuaded to see the necessity. Odd how she never suspected who he really was."

"He is scarred," said Dumarest. "And she was young at the time. Also there was the matter of shame-he had run from his responsibilities."

"A man old enough to be ambitious and yet too young to have any real power. He must have hated seeing his mother make such obvious mistakes. Hated his uncle too, perhaps, but all that is in the past."

"If you continue to advise him suggest that he propose to the holders that no cyber should be allowed to give his services to any one individual. A total ban would be better. Suggest, too, that it would be wise to extend the field of those qualified."

"Smaller holdings and more to share them." Tobol nodded his agreement. "Destroy the resident-concept and allow free enterprise and this society might well be able to survive." He looked at the box Dumarest held toward him. "For the Church?"

"All of if."

"You are more than generous." Tobol looked up from the open receptacle, startled. "All of it?"

"To ease the dying." He remembered Fiona, the pain she would have suffered when shocked nerves had resumed their function. "To sell if you want. To use as you decide. I want none of it."

A man dedicated to life; uninterested in the means of death. Tobol tucked the box under his arm, lifting a hand in farewell as Dumarest walked away.

Vardoon came to meet him as the warning siren echoed across the field.

"Time's running out, Earl."

"I know."

"Need any help getting aboard?" Vardoon shrugged as Dumarest smiled. "No, I guess not, but I wish I were coming with you."

"You've work to do here."

"I know. Well, take care of yourself and don't forget there's a home here whenever you want it." Vardoon held out his hands, palms upward in the mercenary salute of peace. "Good-bye, Earl."

"Good-bye-Emil."

Dumarest turned and walked across the field to the waiting ship, the sky, the empty spaces between the stars.