getting even. Perhaps there was no longer any hope of bringing to account thevillain who had killed her parents and sacked their estate, enslaved the ablebodied, turned loose his half-mad troops on children to glut the lust of theirloins amid the smoke and crashing of beams as the village its inhabitants calledHolt vanished from the stage of history.

But there were other things to do with her life. Hastily she snatched back thecup she had already allowed to linger too long in the grasp of this, luckily thelast of Melilot's publicity boys. She cut short an attempt at complaint with ascowl which drew her forehead-skin down just far enough to reveal a scarnormally covered by her forelock. That was a resource she customarily reserveduntil all else failed. It had its desired effect; the boy gulped and surrenderedthe cup and went back to work, pausing only to urinate against the wall.

2

Just as Jarveena expected, Aye-Gophlan marched stolidly around the block,occasionally glancing back as though feeling insecure without his regular escortof six tall men, and made for the rear entrance to the scriptorium - the one inthe crooked alley where the silk-traders were concentrated. Not all of Melilot'scustomers cared to be seen walking in off a populous and sunny roadway.

Jarveena thrust the wine jar, dish, and cup she was carrying into the hands ofan apprentice too young to argue, and ordered them returned to the kitchen next to the bindery, with which it shared a fire. Then she stole up behind AyeGophlan and uttered a discreet cough.

'May I be of assistance, captain?'

'Ah -!' The officer was startled; his hand flew to something stick-shaped underhis cloak, no doubt a tightly-rolled scroll. 'Ah ... Good-day to you! I have aproblem concerning which I desire to consult your master.'

'He will be taking his noon meal,' Jarveena said in a suitably humble tone. 'Let