“When I told you my story back in Amber I omitted the part where Jasra bit me, and I was barely able to trump out because of some sort of poison she seemed to have injected. It left me numb, paralyzed and very weak for a long while.”

She shook her head.

“Kashfans can’t do anything like that. But then, of course, Jasra is not a Kashfan.”

“Oh? Where’s she from?”

“I don’t know. But she’s a foreigner. Some say a slaver brought her in from a distant land. Others say she just wandered in herself one day and caught Menillan’s eye. It was rumored she was a sorceress. I don’t know.”

“I do. That rumor is right.”

“Really? Perhaps that’s how she got Jasrick.”

I shrugged. “How long ago was your — experience — with her?”

“Thirty or forty years, I’d guess.”

“And she is still queen in Kashfa?”

“I don’t know. It’s been a long time since I’ve been back that way.”

“Is Amber on bad terms with Kashfa?”

She shook her head. “No special terms at all, really. As I said, they’re a bit out of the way. Not as accessible as a lot of other places, with nothing greatly desirable for trade.”

“No real reason then for her to hate us?”

“No more than for hating anyone else.”

Some delightful cooking odors began to fill the room. As I sat there sniffing them and thinking of the long, hot shower I would head for after lunch, Flora said what I had somehow known she would say.

“That man who dragged Jasra back… He looked familiar. Who was he?”

“He was the one I told you about back in Amber,” I replied. “Luke. I’m curious whether he reminds you of anyone.”

“He seems to,” she said, after a pause. “But I can’t say just who.”

As her back was to me I said, “If you’re holding anything that might break or spill if you drop it, please put it down.”