"What if the offer of peace is accepted?" I asked Samos.

The captains looked at me, dumbfounded. Some laughed. But most looked then to Samos.

"I do not think it likely," said Samos, smiling.

Several of the captains then laughed.

"But," I asked, "if it is?"

Samos scowled, and then his clear gray eyes met mine, but without emotion. I could not read his heart. Then he smiled, and spread his hands. "Then," said he, "it is accepted."

"And," I asked, "Do we abide by their acceptance? Would there then be truly peace between Port Kar, and Cos and Tyros?"

"That," smiled Samos, "may always be taken under consideration at a future meeting of the council."

There was rough laughter at this.

"The time is opportune," said Samos, "to offer peace to Cos and Tyros. For one thing, the Council has newly come to power. For another, I have learned from spies that this very week the Ubar of Tyros visits Cos."

The captains muttered angrily. It did not bode well for Port Kar that the Ubar of Tyros should voyage to Cos. More than the Ubar of Tyros should voyage to Cos. More than ever it now seemed possible, or probable, that the two island Ubarates might well be conspiring against Port Kar. Why else should there be a meeting of the two Ubars? Generally, there was almost as little love lost between them as between them and the Ubars of Port Kar.

"Then," said one of the captains, "they must intend to bring their fleets against us."

"Perhaps," said Samos, "members of a mission of peace might learn such matters." There was a grunt of agreement from the captains.

"What of your spies," I asked, "who seem so well informed? Surely, if they can learn the itineraries of the Ubar of Tyros, it must be difficult to conceal from them a gathering of the fleets of two such powers as Cos and Tyros?" The hand of Samos went instinctively to the hilt of his weapon, but then he closed his hand and slowly placed the fist on the arm of his curule chair. "You speak quickly," he said, "for one who is new to the Council of Captains." "More quickly than you choose to answer, it seems, Noble Samos," said I. I wondered what the interess of Samos in Cos and Tyros might be.

Samos spoke slowly. I saw that he did not care to speak. "The fleets of Cos and Tyros," he said, "have not yet gathered."

If he had known this, I asked myself, why had he not spoken before? "Perhaps," I asked, "Samos will propose that we now withdraw our patrols from Thassa?"

Samos looked at me, and the look was as cold and hard as Gorean steel. "No," he said, "I would not propose that."

"Excellent," I said.

The captains looked at one another.

"Let there be peace in the council," said the scribe behind the great table, taht before the now-empty five thrones of the Ubars of Port Kar.

"I have less interest in piracy, I gather, than many of my collaegues," I said. "Since my interests are substantially in commerce I, for one, would welcome peace with Cos and Tyros. It seems not unlikely to me that these two powers may well be weary of war, as Samos informs us he is. If that is true, it seems they may well accept an honorable peace. Such a peace would, I note, open the ports of Tyros and Cos, and their allies and others, to my ships, and of course, to yours. Peace, my captains, might well prove profitable." I regarded Samos. "If an offer of peace is to be made to Cos and Tyros," I said, "it is my hope that it would be genuine."

Samos looked at me strangely. "It would be genuine," he said.

The captains murmured among themselves. I myself was taken aback.

"Bosk," said Samos to the group, "speaks well the advantages of peace. Let us consider his words with care, and favorably. I think there are few of us here who are not more fond of gold than blood."

There was some laughter at this.

"If peace was made," challenged Samos, "which of you would not keep it?" He looked from man to man. To my surprise none denied that he would keep the peace, were it made.

It then seemed to me, so simply, that there was for the first time the possibility of peace of Thassa, among her three major Ubarates.

Somehow, suddenly, I believed Samos.

I was astonished but it was my sensing of the group that, if peace were made, Port Kar would keep it.

There had been war for so long.

None laughed.

I sat numb in the great curule chair, that of a captain of Port Kar. I regarded Samos, wondering of him. He was a strange man, that larl of a man. I could not read him.

"Of course," said Samos, "the offer of peace will be rejected."

The captains looked at one another, and grinned. I realized I was again in Port Kar.

"We will need one to carry the offer of peace to Cos, where he may now find joint audience with the Ubars of both Cos and Tyros," said Samos.

I was scarcely listening now.

"It should be one," Samos was saying, "who has the rank of captain, and who is a member of the council inself, that the authenticity of the offer shall thus be made manifest."

I found myself in agreement with this.

"Further," said Samos, "it should be one who has proved that he can take action, and who has in the past well served the council."

I scratched with my fingernail in the wax, breaking up the bits of charred paper that had bee the note I had burned in the candle flame. The wax was now yellow and hard. It was something past daybreak now, and I was tired. They gray light now filled the room.

"And," Samos was saying, "it must be one who is not afraid to speak, one who is worthy representative of the council."

I wondered if Samos himself might be tired. It seemed to me he was saying very little now.

"And," Samos went on, "it should preferably be one who is not well known to Cos and Tyros, one who has not angered them, nor proven himself to them as blood enemy upon gleaming Thassa."

Suddenly I seemed awake, quite, and apprehensive. And then I smiled. Samos was no fool. He was senior captain of the Council of Captains. He had marked me, and would be done with me.

"Aand such a one," said Samos, "is Bosk — he who came from the marshes. Let it be he who carries peace on behalf of the council to Cos and Tyros. Let it be Bosk!"

There was silence.

I was pleased at the silence. I had not realized until then that I was valued in the council of captains.

Antisthenes spoke, who had been first on the roll of captains. "I do not think it should be a captain," he said. "To send a captain is equivalent to sentencing him to the bench of a slave on the round ships of Cos or Tyros."

There was some muttered assent to this.

"Further," said Antisthenes, "I would recommend that we do not even send one who wears the twin ropes of Port Kar. There are merchants of other cites, voyagers and captains, known to us, who will, for their fees, gladly conduct this business."

"Let it be so," said various voices throughout the chamber of the council. Then all looked at me.

I smiled. "I am, of course, highly honored," I began, "that Noble Samos should think me, that he should nominate me, doubtless the lowliest of the captains here assembled, for a post of such distinction, that of bearing the peace of Port Kar to her hereditary enemies Cos and Tyros."

The captains looked at one another, grinning.

"Then you decline?" asked Samos.

"It only seems to me," said I, "that so signal an honor, and a role so weighty, ought to be reserved for one more august than I, indeed, for he who is most prominent among us, one who could truly negotiate on equal footing with the Ubars of powers so mighty as those of Cos and Tyros."

"Do you have a nomination?" asked the scribe at the center table.

"Samos," I said.

There was laughter among the chairs.

"I am grateful for your nomination," said Samos, "but I scarcely think, in these troubled times, it behooves he who is senior captain of the council to leave the city, voyaging abroad in search of peace when war itself looms at home." "He is right," said Bejar.