Have you thought better of it?the look seemed to say. Was it, after all, only for the night?

Then the feeling was back with him, the surety that, should he lose Mim by saying nothing, he would have lost something irreplaceable.

In the end, he found himself that evening gathering his courage before the door of Hef, who served Elas, and standing awkwardly inside the door when the old man admitted him.

“Hef,” he said, “may I talk to you about Mim?”

“My lord?” asked the old man, bowing.

“What if I wanted to marry her? What should I do?”

The old nemet looked quite overcome then, and bowed several times, looking up at him with a distraught expression. “Lord Kurt, she is only chan.”

“Do I not speak to you? Are you the one who says yes or no?”

“Let my lord not be offended. I must ask Mim.”

“Mim agrees,” said Kurt. Then he thought that it was not his place to have asked Mim, and that he shamed her and embarrassed Hef; but Hef regarded him with patience and even a certain kindliness.

“But I must ask Mim,” said Hef. “That is the way of it. And then I must speak to Kta-ifhan, and to Nym and lady Ptas.”

“Does the whole house have to give consent?” Kurt let forth, without pausing to think.

“Yes, my lord. I shall speak to the family, and to Mim. It is proper that I speak to Mim.”

“I am honored,” Kurt murmured the polite phrase; and he went upstairs to his own quarters to gather his nerves.

He felt much relieved that it was over. Hef would consent. He was sure what Mim would answer her father, and that would satisfy Hef.

He was preparing for bed when Kta came up the stairs and asked admittance. The nemet had a troubled look and Kurt knew by sure instinct what had brought him. He would almost have begged Kta to go away, but he was under Kta’s roof and he did not have that right.

“You have talked with Hef,” Kurt said, to make it easier for him.

“Let me in, my friend.”

Kurt backed from the door, offering Kta a chair. It would have been proper to offer tea also. He would have had to summon Mim for that. He would not do it.

“Kurt,” said Kta, “please, sit down also. I must speak to you—I must beg your kindness to hear me.”

“You might find it more comfortable simply to tell me what is in your mind from the beginning,” Kurt said, taking the other chair. “Yes or no, are you going to interfere?”

“I am concerned for Mim. It is not as simple as you may hope. Will you hear me? If your anger forbids,—then we will go down and drink tea and wait for a better mind, but I am bound to say these things.”

“Mim told me—about most that I imagine you have come to say. And it makes no difference. I know about the Tamurlin and I know where she came from.”

Kta let his breath go, a long hiss of a sigh. “Well, that is something at least. You know that she is Indras?”

“None of that possibly concerns me. Nemet politics have nothing to do with me.”

“You choose ignorance. That is always a dangerous choice, Kurt. Being of the Indras race or being Sufaki is a matter of great difference among nemet, and you are among nemet.”

“The only difference I have ever noticed is being human among nemet,” he said, controlling his temper with a great effort. “I would bring disgrace on you. Is that what you care for, and not whether Mim would be happy?”

“Mim’s happiness is a matter of great concern to us,” Kta insisted. “And we know you would not mean to hurt her, but human ways—”

“Then you see no difference between me and the Tamurlin.”

“Please. Please. You do not imagine. They are not like you. That is not what I meant. The Tamurlin—they are foul and they are shameless. They wear hides and roar and mouth like beasts when they fight. They have no more modesty than beasts in their dealing with women. They mate as they please, without seeking privacy. They restrain themselves from nothing. A strong chief may have twenty or more women, while weaker men have none. They change mates by the outcome of combat. I speak of human women. Slaves like Mim belong to any and all who want them. And when I found her—”

“I do not want to hear this.”

“Kurt,—listen. Listen. I shall not offend you. But when we attacked the Tamurlin to stop their raids—we killed all we could reach. We were about to set torch to the place when I heard a sound like a child crying. I found Mim in the corner of a hut. She wore a scrap of hide, as filthy as the rest of them; for an instant I could not even tell she was nemet. She was thin, and carried terrible marks on her body. When I tried to carry her, she attacked me—not womanlike, but with a knife and her teeth and her knees, whatever she could bring to bear. So she was accustomed to fight for her place among them. I had to strike her senseless to bring her to the ship, and then she kept trying to jump into the sea until we were out of sight of land. Then she hid down in the rowing pits and would not come out except when the men were at the oars. When we fed her she would snatch and run, and she would not speak more than a few syllables at a time save of human language.”

“I cannot believe that,” said Kurt quietly. “How long ago was that?”

“Four years. Four years she has been in Elas. I brought her home and gave her to my lady mother and sister, and Hef’s wife Liu, who was living then. But she had not been among us many days before Aimu saw her standing before the hearthfire with hands lifted, as Sufaki do not do. Aimu was younger then and not so wise; she exclaimed aloud that Mim must be Indras.

“Mim ran. I caught her in the streets, to the wonder of all Nephane and our great disgrace. And I carried her by force back to Elas. Then, alone with us, she began to speak, with the accent of Indresul. This was the reason of her silence before. But we of Elas are Indras too, like all the Great Families on the hill, descended of colonists of Indresul who came to this shore a thousand years ago, and while we are now enemies of Indresul, we are one religion and Mim was only a child. So Elas has kept her secret, and people outside know her only as Hef’s adopted Sufaki daughter, a country child of mixed blood rescued from the Tamurlin. She does not speak as Sufaki, but people believe we taught her speech; she does not look Sufaki, but that is not unusual in the coastal villages, where seamen have— ei,well, she passes for Sufaki. The scandal of her running through the streets is long forgotten. She is an honor and an ornament to this house now. But to have her in public attention again—would be difficult. No man would marry Mim; forgive me, but it is truth and she knows it. Such a marriage would cause gossip favorable to neither of you.”

Instinct told him Kta was speaking earnest good sense. He put it by. “I would take care of her,” he insisted. “I would try, Kta.”

Kta glanced down in embarrassment, then lifted his eyes again. “She is nemet. Understand me. Sheis nemet. She has been hurt and greatly shamed. Human customs are—forgive me: I shall speak shamelessly. I do not know how humans behave with their mates. Djan-methi is—free—in this regard. We are not. I beg you think of Mim. We do not cast away our women. Marriage is unbreakable.”

“I had expected so.”

Kta sat back a little. “Kurt—there could be no children. I have never heard of it happening, and Tamurlin have mated with nemet women.”

“If there were,” said Kurt, though what Kta had said distressed him greatly, “I could love them. I would want them. But if not, then I would be happy with Mim.”

“But could others love them?” Kta wondered. “It would be difficult for them, Kurt.”

It hurt. Some things Kta said amused him and some no little irritated him, but this was simply a fact of Kta’s world, and it hurt bitterly. For an instant Kurt forgot that the nemet thing to do was to lower his eyes and so keep his hurt private. He looked full at the nemet, and it was Kta who flinched and had to look up again.