"Got any ornaments?" asked Occula suddenly. "My room's as bare as a cell."

The pedlar turned and looked at her for a moment.

"Why, yes, quite a few. They're all just pottery, animals and birds, you know, but they're nicely painted."

He laid out a couple of dozen bulls, bears and leopards; pigeons and terracotta cockerels-all the same size and painted in gaudy colors. "How about this cat, now? She's Yeldashay, she is. It's one of their tales down that way, you know-the Cat Colonna."

"I thought they called her-BakrisV replied Occula, with a certain emphasis.

"Why, so they may, perhaps," said the pedlar. "I see she's got a bit chipped, so you can have her for nothing, if you like." He handed her the rather clumsy little figure with its curving, erect tail. Occula took it from him with a curtsey and a flash of her white teeth.

"Oh, she'll brighten up the place no end: I like a bit of plain pottery. Everything gold and silver here-'cept me, of course-you get tired of it."

"And what are you?" asked the pedlar.

"Black marble," said Occula. "Polished, too. Can' you tell?"

At this moment Dyphna entered into the conversation by enquiring the price of a carnelian ring laid out beside the necklaces. The pedlar, having told her rather shortly that it was eighty-five meld, was turning back to Occula when Dyphna quietly offered him seventy in ready money. Clearly surprised, he suggested seventy-five, but the girl merely smiled, shrugged her shoulders and seemed about to go when he accepted her offer, remarking that it would be a pleasure to be ruined by such a beautiful girl. Thereupon Dyphna, fetching from her room a bronze casket, unlocked it and paid him on the spot.

"I'll bet she's got a damned sight more than that, too, banzi," whispered Occula as Dyphna, having evidently concluded business for the day, smiled graciously at the pedlar and left the room. "Makes you realize the possibilities, doesn't it? How long's she been at it, d'you suppose? Five years? Six?"

"Oh, it's the noblemen who fancy her," said Meris, glancing round to make sure that Terebinthia, who was examining the necklaces, was out of earshot. "You've only got to see the way she lays it out at one of these banquets. She can sing and tell stories and play the hinnari and dance and-oh, she's got a lot of style, has Dyphna. She can make herself very good company. And as for business, she's got it all arranged. Terebinthia takes a good, big cut, but Dyphna'U have enough to buy herself out soon and set up as a shearna. Or she might even get married, I suppose."

"But would Sencho let her go?" asked Maia.

"He'll have to, if she offers the price: that's the law, you see. If a girl can put up twelve thousand meld five years or more after she was first bought, her master has to let her go. But that's nearly always to his own advantage, anyway. He's had the girl for five years, you see. She must have lost value, but he can always get another for twelve thousand or less."

"Not one like me he can'," said Occula. "I'll wipe her eye, you see if I doan'."

At this moment Ogma, the club-footed servant-girl who looked after the women's quarters, came in, raised her palm to her forehead and stood silently by the entrance,

waiting for Terebinthia to give her leave to speak. It pleased the saiyett to keep her waiting for some little while. When at length she beckoned her over, it was to be told that Sencho wished to see her at once. She left hastily and with none-too-well-concealed apprehension.

"Ah, well," said Zirek, returning his wares one by one to the pack. "It's always nice to have a chat with a bunch of pretty girls, even if you don't sell much. I'll have to be getting along now, though. I'm glad we met, Occula: I'll see you again." He paused a moment. "Tell us what you can, won't you? There's various ways, as I dare say you know; but I'll be back myself as soon as I can."

"I'll buy your flask of kepris, if you like," said Meris suddenly. "I'll give you a damn' good price, too. Here it is."

Placing herself squarely in front of him, she unclasped her cloak and let it fall to the floor. Except for her shoes and a silver bracelet on one arm she was naked, and in the warm, still room her body gave off a faint perfume of lilies. As she held out her arms to him, smiling, the young man stared at her without a word.

"There's a room through there," she said, "but we'll have to be quick. She'll be back soon."

Occula, stepping forward, picked up her cloak.

"I'm only new roun' here," she said to Meris, "and Cran knows I hate to spoil a bit of fun. But even more would I hate to see you both hangin' upside-down; and make no mistake, that's what it'll be if she comes back and catches you. Come on, Zirek, get your pack in one hand and your zard in the other and get out of here."

"Damn you, Occula!" shouted Meris. "What the basting hell's it got to do with you?"

As Occula held her by the shoulders she struggled fiercely, twisting her head round and trying to bite her hand. "Why can't you get her off me?" she cried to the pedlar, stamping her foot. "Don't you want to baste me? There's plenty'd like to who can't, I'll tell you that!"

"O Cran preserve us!" said Occula. "Meris, haven't you got any blasted sense at all? She'll be back any minute, you little hot-tairth idiot! Zirek, get out, go on, or I'll go and fetch the porter myself, damned if I doan'!"

At this moment Meris, who seemed completely beside herself, swung back one of her shod heels and kicked Occula on the shin. Occula, cursing with pain, slapped her

as hard as she could, and as the girl sank to her knees once more gripped her under the shoulders.

"It's the heat," said the black girl, rubbing her bleeding shin against her other calf. "Come on, banzi, help me get her into her bedroom. For the last time, Zirek, will you get out?"

The two girls carried Meris bodily out of the room. Once they had put her on her bed she lay there quietly, her head thrust between two cushions. When they returned the pedlar had gone.

"Now that just shows you, banzi," said Occula, "how easy it is to go on your ruin just because you itch and mustn' scratch. That girl's pretty enough to make a fortune, but she'll come to a bad end, you mark my words! Can you imagine what would have happened if old Ter-ebinthia had come back just in time for a nice, private kuraT

"What's a kura?" asked Maia.

"Oh, give me patience!" said Occula. "A kura's when boys and girls are set to do it openly, at a party or a banquet, to amuse the ladies and gentlemen and get them going. Doan' worry, you'll see plenty before long. But if we'd had to admit that we knew what Meris was doin' and hadn' tried to stop her, we'd have been lucky to get off with a whippin'; and as for Meris herself-"

The beads clicked: Terebinthia was once more in the room. As the girls turned to face her she picked up a towel to wipe her sweating face and neck.

"The pedlar's gone?" she asked at length.

"Yes, saiyett."

"And where is Meris?" Terebinthia's tone was rather sharper.

"Gone to lie down, saiyett: the heat, you know."

Terebinthia paused. Her silence exuded a kind of suspicion and menace. Maia, realizing that very little escaped her and that that was one reason why she had risen to her position in this world where she herself must now live, felt afraid.

"Well," said Terebinthia, with a certain air of deciding on balance to leave something unsaid, "that will be-quieter, I dare say."

She paused again: the girls waited silently.

"I've just been talking with the High Counselor," she resumed at length. "He tells me he has been advised from

the temple that the rains are almost certainly going to set in before morning."

"Good news, saiyett," said Occula.