"Follow me," said Cernus, leading the way through the door which the guards had thrown open for him. We found ourselves in the hallway giving access to the large one-way glass, backed by metal grillwork.

I was not clear as to the meaning of the remark of Cernus.

Once again I found myself looking through the glass, which on the other side was a mirror, into the luxurious compartment, with wardrobe, chests of silk, rugs and cushions, a silken divan and a scented, sunken bath, now drawn.

But this time, in that room rich with hangings, with lamps set behind ornate mesh in the ceiling, there was a prisoner.

It was a strikingly, but cruelly beautiful girl, who walked from one end of the room to the other, in fury, like a young, caged she-larl. The hood to her ornate, marvelous robes of concealment had been taken from her; and her veil. Otherwise, given the splendor of her robes, she might have been on the highest bridges the envy of all the free women of Ar.

"Behold the downfall of the House of Portus," said Cernus.

I looked into the room. The girl had black hair, swirling and long, beautiful, which had never been cut, and flashing black eyes, high cheekbones.

On each small wrist, locked, she wore a slave bracelet, of simple, unadorned steel. The two bracelets were joined by a light, gleaming chain of perhaps a yard in length. It did not restrict her movements to any appreciable extent.

"I want her," said Cernus, "to feel steel on her wrists, the weight of a chain."

The girl spun about and threw her head back, staring wildly at the ceiling, throwing the chain back over her head. Then she sobbed in rage and flung the chain forward, striking it on the chests, on the divan, again and again. Then crouching over, with first one hand and then the other, she tried madly to push and slip the encircling, resisting steel over her other hand. She ran even to the bath and took oils, rubbing them on her wrists, but still the steel would not release her. Then she sobbed and ran back to the center of the room, striking again and again the divan with the chain. Then, still chained, she knelt on the divan, pounding it with her fists.

I heard a movement near us. I turned and saw a female slave, in a rep-cloth kitchen tunic, stained with food, approaching, bearing a tray of fruit with a flask of wine, She was followed by a guard.

The slave knocked timidly on the door of the cell.

The girl sprang up from the divan, wiped oil from her wrists on a towel, threw back her hair, and stood regally in the center of the room. "Enter," she said.

The guard unlocked the door and the kitchen slave, deferentially, entered, her head down and placed the tray of fruit and wine on a small low table near the divan. She then, head down, began to back lightly away.

"Wait, Slave," ordered the girl.

The slave sank to her knees, head down.

"Where is your master?" demanded the chained girl.

"I do not know, Mistress," said the kitchen slave.

"Who is your master?" demanded the chained girl.

"I am not permitted to say, Mistress," whined the kitchen slave.

The girl in chains strode to her and seized her by the collar, at which point the kitchen slave began to whine and weep, trying to draw back, to turn her head away. The chained girl, half crouching, scrutinized the collar and laughed, and then, with disdain, her hands in the slave's collar, flung her to one side, where the slave lay, fearing to rise. The chained girl kicked her savagely in the side with her slipper. "Begone, Slave," she snarled, and the kitchen slave leaped to her feet and sped through the door, which was closed behind her and locked by the guard.

Outside Cernus gestured for the kitchen slave not to leave. Immediately the kitchen slave knelt in the hallway, not speaking. There were tears in her eyes.

Cernus then drew my attention again to the interior of the cell.

The prisoner now seemed in a better mood. There was a new haughtiness in her movements. She looked down at the tray of fruit and wine and laughed, and picked up a fruit and bit into it, smiling.

"I have plans for this girl," said Cernus, regarding the prisoner through the glass. "I had intended to have her used by a male slave before she leaves the house, but I shall not do so. This afternoon, following her capture, I sent uncollared serving slaves to groom and bathe her. I observed her, and she interests me. I shall, therefore, before she leaves the house, use her myself, but she will not know who it is whom she serves, for when I visit her from time to time she will be locked in a slave hood."

"What do you intend eventually to do with her?" I asked.

"Her hair is very beautiful, is it not?" asked Cernus.

"Yes," I said, "it is."

"I expect she is quite vain about it," speculated Cernus.

"Doubtless," I said.

"I will have her hair shaved off," said Cernus, "and have her bound and hooded and sent by tarn to another city, Tor perhaps, where she will be publicly sold."

"Perhaps her sale could be private?" I said.

"No," said Cernus, "it must be public."

"What has all this to do with the House of Portus?" I asked.

Cernus laughed. "You, Killer," said he, "would not make a Player."

I shrugged.

"This girl," said he, "will in time make her way back to Ar. I will arrange it, if necessary."

"I do not understand," I said.

Cernus gestured for the kitchen slave to approach, and she did so immediately.

"Look at her collar," said Cernus.

I read the collar aloud. "I am the property of the House of Portus."

"She will find her way back to Ar," said Cernus. "And it will be the downfall of the House of Portus."

I looked at him.

"She is, of course," said Cernus, "Claudia Tentia Hinrabia."

15 — PORTUS COMES TO THE HOUSE OF CERNUS

I observed Phyllis Robertson performing the belt dance, on love furs spread between the tables, under the eyes of the Warriors of Cernus and the members of his staff. Beside me Ho-Tu was shoveling porridge into his mouth with a horn spoon. The music was wild, a melody of the delta of the Vosk. The belt dance is a dance developed and made famous by Port Kar dancing girls. Cernus, as usual, was engaged in a game with Caprus, and had eyes only for the board.

As the weeks had wore on, becoming months, I had grown more and more apprehensive and impatient. More than once I had called on Caprus myself, though it was perhaps not wise, to urge him to speed in his work, or to permit me to transmit portions of the documents he was copying to the Sardar. Always he refused. I had been bitter at these delays, complaining and chafing, but there seemed little I could do. He would not inform me of the location of the maps and papers and I did not feel that any direct attempt to steal them and carry them away would be likely to be successful; further, if simply stolen, the Others, through Cernus, would doubtless be informed at the first opportunity and alternate plans put into effect. I reminded myself, again and again, as the month clock rotated, that Caprus was a trusted agent of Priest-Kings, that Misk himself had spoken in the highest terms of him. I must trust Caprus. I would trust him. Yet I could not help my anger.

Ho-Tu pointed with his spoon at Phyllis. "She is not bad," he said.

The belt dance is performed with a Warrior. She now writhed on the furs at his feet, moving as though being struck with a whip. A white silken cord had been knotted about her waist; in this cord was thrust a narrow rectangle of white silk, perhaps about two feet long. About her throat, close-fitting and snug, there was a white-enameled collar, a lock collar. She no longer wore the band of steel on her left ankle.

"Excellent," said Ho-Tu, putting aside his spoon.