There was laughter and delighted cries.

"Hail Bosk!" I heard. "Hail Bosk, Admiral of Port Kar!"

I threw more gold wildly about. I drank again, and again. "Yes," I cried. "Hail Bosk!"

"Hail Bosk!" they cried. "Hail Bosk, Admiral of Port Kar!"

"Yes," I cried. "Hail Bosk! Hail, Bosk, Admiral of Port Kar! Hail Bosk, Admiral of Port Kar!"

I heard a cry, as of fear, from my right, and I turned to stare drunkenly toward the end of the table. There, Luma, chained at the table, in her bracelets, was looking at me. On her face there was a look of horror.

"Your face," she cried. "Your face!"

I looked at her, puzzled.

The room was suddenly quiet.

"No," she said, suddenly, shaking her head. "It is gone now."

"What is wrong?" I asked her.

"Your face," she said.

"What of it?" I asked.

"It is nothing," she said, looking down.

"What of it!" I demanded.

"For an instant," she said, "I thought-I thought it was the face of Surbus." I cried out with rage and seized the great table, flinging it, scattering dishes and paga, from the dias. Thura and Ula screamed. Sandra screamed, darting away, her hands before her, with an incongruous clash of slave bells. Luma, fastened by the neck to the table, was jerked from the dais, and thrown over the table to the tiles of the hall. Slave girls fled from the room, screaming.

Enraged I took the bag of gold, what was left of it, and hurled it out into the hall, spilling a rain of golden tarn disks before it struck the tiles. Then, furious, I turned about and, stumbling, left the hall.

"Admiral!" I heard behind me. "Admiral!"

I clutched the medallion about my neck, with its tarn ship and the initials of the Council of Captains.

Stumbling, crying out in rage, I staggered toward my quarters.

I could hear the consternation behind me.

In fury, I rushed on, sometimes falling, sometimes striking against the walls. Then I burst open the doors of my quarters.

Midice and Tab leaped apart.

I howled with rage and turned about striking the walls with my fists and then, throwing off my cloak, spun weeping to face them, in the same instant drawing my blade.

"It is torture and impalement for you, Midice," I said.

"No," said Tab. "It is my fault. I forced myself upon her."

"No, No!" cried Midice. "It is my fault! My fault!"

"Torture and impalement," I said to her. Then I regarded Tab. "You have been a good man, Tab," I gestured with my blade. "Defend yourself," I said. Tab shrugged. He did not draw his weapon. "I know you can kill me," he said. "Defend yourself," I screamed to him.

"Very well," said Tab, and his weapon left its sheath.

Midice flung herself on her knees between us, weeping. "No!" she cried. "Kill Midice!"

"I shall slay you slowly before her," I said, "and then I shall deliver her to the torturers."

"Kill Midice!" wept the girl. "But let him go! Let him go!"

"Why have you done this to me!" I cried out to her weeping. "Why? Why?" "I love him," she said, weeping. "I love him."

I laughed. "You cannot love," I told her. "You are Midice. You are small, and petty, and selfish, and vain! You cannot love!"

"I do love him," she whispered. "I do."

"Do you not love me?" I begged.

"No," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "No."

"But I have given you many things," I wept. "And have I not given you great pleasure?"

"Yes," she said, "you have given me many things."

"And have I not," I demanded, "given you great pleasure!"

"yes," she said, "you have."

"Then why!" I cried out.

"I do not love you," she said.

"You love me!" I screamed at her.

"No," she said, "I do not love you. And I have never loved you."

I wept.

I returned my blade to its sheath.

"Take her," I said to Tab. "She is yours."

"I love her," he said.

"Take her away!" I screamed. "Leave my service! Leave my sight!"

"Midice," said Tab, hoarsely.

She fled to him and he put one arm about her. Then they turned and left the room, he still carrying the unsheathed sword.

I walked slowly about the room, and then I sat on the edge of the stone couch, on the furs, and put my head in my hands.

How long I had sat thus I do not know.

I heard, after some time, a slight sound in the threshold of my quarters. I looked up.

In the threshold stood Telima.

I looked at her.

"Have you come to scrub the tiles?" I asked, sternly.

She smiled. "It was done earlier," she said, "that I might serve late at the feast."

"Does the kichen master know you are here?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No," she said.

"You will be beaten," I said.

I saw taht, about her left arm, she wore again the armlet of gold, which I remembered from so long ago, that which I had taken from her to give to Midice. "you have the armlet," I said.

"Yes," she said.

"How did you get it?" I asked.

"From Midice," she said.

"You stole it," I said.

"No," she said.

I met her eyes.

"Midice gave it back to me," she said.

"When?" i asked.

"More than a month ago," said Telima.

"She was kind to a Kettle Slave," I said.

Telima smiled, tears in her eyes. "yes," she said.

"I have not see you wear it," I said.

"I have kept it hidden in the straw of my mat," said Telima.

I looked on Telima. She stood in the doorway, rather timidly. She was barefoot. She wore the brief, stained, wretched garment of a Kettle Slave. About her throat, locked, was a simple, steel collar. But she wore on her left arm an armlet of gold.

"Why have you worn the armlet of gold?" I asked.

"It is al I have," she said.

"Why have you come here at this time?" I asked.

"Midice," she said.

I cried out and put my head in my hands weeping.

Telima timidly came closer. "She did care for you," she said.

I shook my head.

"She cannot help it if she did not love you," whispered Telima.

"Go back to the kitchens!" I wept. "Go back now, or I will kill you." Telima knelt down, a few feet from me. There were tears in her eyes. "Go away," I cried. "or I will kill you!"

She did not move, but knelt there, with tears in her eyes. She shook her head. "no," she said, "you would not. You could not."

"I am Bosk!" I cried, standing.

"yes," she said, "You ae Bosk." she smiled. "It was I who gave you that name." "It was you," I cried, "who destroyed me!"

"If any was destroyed," said she, "it was not you, but I."

"You destroyed me!" I wept.

"You have not been destroyed, my Ubar," said she.

"You have destroyed me," I cried, "and now I shall destroy you!"

I leaped to my feet, whipping the sword from my sheath and stood over her, the blade raised to strike.

She kneeling, looked up at me, tears in her eyes.

In rage I hurled the blade away and it struck the stones of the wall thirty feet across the room and clattered to the floor, and I sank to my knees weeping, my head in my hands.

"Midice," I wept. "Midice."

I had vowed once that I had lost two women, and would never lose another. And now Midice was gone. I had given her the richest of silks, the most precious of jewels. I had become famed. I had become powerful and rich. I had become famed. I had become powerful and rich. I had become great. But now she was gone. It had not mattered. Nothing had mattered. And now she was gone, fled away in the night, no longer mine. To me she had chosen another. I had lost her. I had lost her.

"It is hard," I said to Telima, "to love, and not to be loved."

"I know," she said.

I looked at her. Her hair had been combed.

"You hair is combed," I said.

She smiled. "One of the girls in the kitchen," she said, "has a broken comb, one that Ula threw away."