up to the palace before the morning light was gone. As part of a sequence ofpolitical and religious negotiations which Lalo did not even try to understand,Molin Torchholder had commissioned him to paint an allegorical mural of theWedding of the Storm God and Mother Bey. The work was as lifeless as everythingelse he did these days, but he was getting paid for it. And he did not know whatelse he could do.

"She was going to be pretty..." said Illyra in an oddly conversational tone. "MyLillis had golden hair like her father's, do you remember? I used to comb it andwonder how anything that pretty could have been born from me...."

"Yes," answered Gilla quietly. "I know." She had only seen Illyra's daughter afew times, but that did not matter now. "Ganner was the fairest of mychildren..." Her throat closed.

"How can you understand?" exclaimed the half-S'danzo suddenly. "You still havechildren! But my daughter is dead and they have taken my little boy away! Thereis nothing left for me."

"Your child was young," said Gilla heavily. "You do not know what she would havebeen. But all the labor of raising my boy to manhood is wasted. He will nevergive me grandchildren now. I have buried one infant and lost one from the womb;the boy that was born after Ganner died of a fever when he was six years old. Iknow the pain of losing them at all ages, Illyra, and I tell you truly thatwhatever age your child is taken from you is the worst. But I will bear no more.You are still young-you can have other children."

"What for?" Illyra said harshly. "So that this town can kill them, too?" Shesank back upon the silken pillows with which the Aphrodisia House furnished evena sickroom and closed her eyes.

From somewhere on the floor below them came a mocking echo of music. The fadedsilk of the cushions glowed softly in the afternoon light, but to Gilla theyseemed as colorless as everything else had been since that terrible day when so