"How many are there?" I asked Samos.

"Two." he said.

"Are they alive?" I asked.

"Yes," he said.

At the second Ahn, long before dawn, the herald of Samos had come to the lakelike courtyard of my holding in many-canalled Port Kar, that place of manyships, scourge of Thassa, that dark jewel in her gleaming green waters. Twicehas he struck the bars of the sea gate, each time with the Ka-la-na shaft of hisspear, not with the side of its broad tapering bronze point. The signet ring, ofSamos of Port Kar, first captain of the council of captains, was displayed. Iwould be roused. The morning, in early Spring, was chilly.

"Does Tyros move?" I asked blond-haired Thurnock, that giant of a man, he ofpeasants, who had come to rouse me.

"I think not, Captain," said he.

The girl beside me pulled the furs up about her throat, frightened.

"Have ships of Cos been sighted?" I asked.

"I do not think so, Captain," said he.

There was a sound of chain beside me. The chain had moved against the collarring of the girl beside me. Beneath the furs she was naked. The chain ran fromthe slave ring at the foot of my couch, a heavy chain, to the, thick metalcollar fastened on her neck.

"It is not, then, on the business of Port Kar that he comes?" I had asked.

"I think perhaps not, Captain," said Thurnock. "I think that the matters have todo with business other than that of Port Kar."

The small tharlarion-oil lamp he held illuminated his bearded face as he stoodnear the door.

"It has been quiet," I said, "for too long."

"Captain?" he asked.

"Nothing," I said.

"It is early," whispered the girl next to me.