Djan swore under her breath. “What else?”

“Those who were taking me from the temple, if your men recognized them—one was in the market. T’Tefur’s men. One was a man I told you used to watch Elas—”

“Shall I call Shan here? If you repeat those things to his face—”

“I’ll kill him.”

“You will do nothing of the sort,” Djan shouted, suddenly at the end of her patience. “You caused me trouble enough, you and your precious little native wife. I know well enough your stubbornness, but I promise you this: if you cause me any more trouble, I’ll hold you and all Elas directly responsible.”

“What am I supposed to do, wait for the next time? Is my wife going to have to go into hiding for fear of them and I not be able to do anything or lay a hand on the men I know are responsible?”

“You chose to live here, you begged me for the privilege, and you chose all the problems of living in a nemet house and having a nemet wife. Now enjoy it.”

“I’m asking you to do something.”

“And I’m telling you I’ve had enough problems from you. You’re becoming a liability to me.”

The door opened cautiously and Mim entered the room, stood transfixed as Kurt rose to his feet. Her face dissolved in tears and for a moment she did not move. Then she cast herself to her knees and fell upon her face before Djan.

Kurt went to her and drew her into his arms, smoothing her disordered hair, and she turned her face against him and wept. Her dress was torn open, buttons ripped to the waist, the pelansoiled with mud from the streets and with blood.

“You’d better do something,” Kurt said, looking across at Djan. “Because if I meet any of them after this I’ll kill them.”

“If you doubt I’ll do what I said, you’re mistaken.”

“What kind of place is this when this can happen to her? What do I owe your law when this can happen and they can get away with it?”

“H’Elas,” said Djan, ignoring him, “have you remembered who did this to you?”

“Please,” said Mim, “do not shame my husband.”

“Your husband has eyes to see what happened to you. He is threatening to take matters into his own hands, which will be unfortunate for Elas if he does, and for him too. So you had better find it convenient to remember, h’Elas.”

“Methi,—I—only remember what I told you. They kept me wrapped in—in someone’s cloak, I think, and I could hardly breathe. I saw no faces—and I remember—I remember being moved, and I tried to escape, but they—hit me—they—”

“Let be,” Kurt said, holding her. “Let be, Djan.”

“How long have you lived in Nephane, h’Elas?”

“F-four years, Methi.”

“And never heard those voices, never saw a face you knew, even at the beginning?”

“No, Methi. Perhaps—perhaps they were from the country.”

“Where were you held?”

“I do not know, Methi. I cannot remember clearly. It was dark,—a building, dark,—and I could not see. I do not know.”

“They were t’Tefur’s men,” said Kurt. “Let her alone.”

“There are more radical men than Shan t’Tefur, those who aim at creating complete havoc here—and you just gave them all the ammunition they need, killing two of them, defiling the temple.”

“Let them come out into the open and accuse me. I don’t think they’re the kind. Or if they try me again,—”

“I’ve warned you, Kurt, in as plain words as I can use. Do nothing.”

“I’ll do what’s necessary to protect my wife.”

“Don’t try me. Don’t think your life or hers means more to me than this city.”

“Next time,” said Kurt, holding Mim tightly to his side, “I’m going to be armed. If you don’t intend to afford me the protection of the law, then I’ll take care of the matter, public or private, fair or foul.”

“My lord,” pleaded Mim, “please, please, do not quarrel with her.”

“You’d better listen to her,” said Djan. “Women have survived the like for thousands of years. She will. Honor’s cold comfort for being dead, as the practicalities of the Tamur surely taught—”

“She understands!” Kurt cried, hugging Mim to him, and Djan silenced herself quickly. Mim trembled. Her hands were cold in his.

“You have leave to go, h’Elas,” said Djan.

“I’ll see her home,” said Kurt.

“ You’regoing nowhere tonight,” Djan said, and shouted in Nechai for the guard, who appeared almost instantly, expecting orders.

“I’ll take her home,” Kurt repeated, “and I’ll come back if you insist on it.”

“No,” said Djan. “I made a mistake ever putting you in Elas, and I warned you. As of this moment you’re staying in the Afen, and it’s going to take more than Kta’s persuasions to change my mind on that. You’ve created a division in this city that words won’t settle, and my patience is over, Kurt.—T’Udein, see h’Elas home.”

“You’ll have to use more than an order to keep me here,” said Kurt.

Mim put her hand on his arm and looked up at him. “Please, no, no, I will go home. I am so very tired. I hurt, my lord. Please let me go home, and do not quarrel with the Methi for my sake. She is right: it is not safe for you or for Elas. It will never be safe for you. I do not want you to have any grief for my sake.”

Kurt bent and touched his lips to her brow. “I’m coming home tonight, Mim. She only thinks otherwise. Go with t’Udein, then, and tell your father to keep that door locked.”

“Yes, my lord Kurt,” she said softly, her hands slipping from his. “Do not be concerned for me. Do not be concerned.”

She bowed once to the Methi, but Djan snapped her fingers when she would have made the full obeisance, dismissing her. Kurt waited until the door was securely closed, then fixed his eyes on Djan, trembling so with rage he did not trust himself.

“If you ever use words like that to my wife again—”

“She has more sense than you do. Shewould not have a war fought over her offended pride.”

“You held her without so much as a word to Elas—”

“I sent word back when Kta came, and if you had stayed where you belonged, the matter would have been quietly and efficiently settled. Now I have to think of other matters besides your convenience and your feelings.”

“Saving t’Tefur, you mean.”

“Saving this city from the bloodbath you nearly started tonight. My men had rocks thrown at them—at a Methi’s guards! If they’ll do that, they’ll cut throats next.”

“Ask your guards who those men were. Or are you afraid they’ll tell you?”

“There are a lot of charges flying in the wind tonight, none of them substantiated.”

“I’ll substantiate them—before the Upei.”

“Oh, no, you won’t. You bring up that charge in the Upei and there are things about many people,—your little ex-slave wife included—that are going to be brought up too, dragged through public hearing under oath. When you start invoking the law, friend, the law keeps moving until the whole truth is out, and a case like that right now would tear Nephane apart. I won’t stand for it. Your wife would suffer most of all, and I think she has come to understand that very clearly.”

“You threatened her with that?”

“I explained things to her. I did not threaten. Those fellows won’t admit to your charges, no, they’ll have counterclaims that won’t be pretty to hear. Mim’s honor and Mim’s history will be in question, and the fact that she went from the Tamurlin to a human marriage won’t be to her credit or that of Elas. And believe me, I’d throw her or you to the Sufaki if it had to be done, so don’t push me any further.”

“T’Tefur’s city isn’t worth saving.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

He had started for the door. He stopped and faced her. “I’m going to Elas, to my wife. When I’m sure she’s all right, I’ll come back and we can settle matters. But unless you want more people hurt or killed, you’d better give me an escort to get there.”

She stared at him. He had never seen her angrier; but perhaps she could read on his face what he felt at the moment. Her expression grew calmer, guarded.