"Tell me."
"Lavinia is a very beautiful woman as you must have noticed. She is, however, on the edge of marrying one of our number."
"You?"
"The Lord Gydapen Prabang. He has a great influence and the marriage must take place if certain unpleasant effects are to be avoided. You are an intelligent man, Earl. You must have noticed how attracted Lavinia is to you. I can understand that. Against the rest of us you are-unusual. But you have no roots here, no responsibilities. Perhaps you consider you are in debt towards us?"
Dumarest nodded, saying nothing.
"It is something I regret having to mention but I am left with little choice. You could, if you wished, cause great damage. Lavinia-"
"Is a woman old enough to make up her own mind."
"True, but, against your experience, she is little more than a child. I saw your expression when on the promenade. You said nothing but I knew what you were thinking. Lavinia believes in delusia, you do not. Think of the gap which that alone forms between you. And there are others."
As he paused Dumarest said, knowing the answer, "What do you want me to do?"
"Be cold. Turn her away from you. Save her marriage and, at the same time, save this world."
"Is the marriage as important as that?"
"Yes." Roland shook his head as he saw Dumarest's incredulity. "You cannot understand, but take my word for it, please. If you accept that you are in debt then settle it this way. Do as I ask."
And if he refused? On other worlds the answer would have been direct; a stab in the back, an assassin hired, poison slipped into food or wine. Death or maiming delivered with merciless precision. Great Families knew how to take care of their own.
But here?
The fact that Roland was pleading was answer enough. Proof of his fear and proof of more than he realized.
Dumarest said, evenly, "I am a traveler. If I had money enough I would take passage on the first ship to leave."
"That can be arranged!" The man's relief was obvious. "Money can be found!"
"Then we are agreed?"
"Yes, Earl, we are agreed." Roland stepped towards the door. "Dinner will be in thirty minutes. A servant will guide you when you are ready."
It was a long and leisurely affair; dishes rich in protein served in a variety of ways; little morsels of meat wrapped in leaves, fruits, dusted with crushed nuts, dipped in astringent sauces, charred in flame, steeped in compotes of a dozen kinds. Salvers held items of pastry, blends of creams and pastes, miniature figures of succulent crispness, oozing semi-liquid delights. There were wines; some tart and refreshing which cleansed the palate, others warm and tantalizing, chilled and spiced, tasting of fruit and bitter roots. One holding within its purple depths the taste of effulgent bubbles.
"We make it only once each year," Lavinia explained. "From pods delivered to us in exchange for various other items. It is brewed in ancient caskets to an old recipe and sealed in bottles of black glass. A little lifts the spirit but more will open doors and give you glimpses of the unknown which you may regret. It is wise to be moderate."
"In all things." Dumarest had barely touched the variety of dishes, eating only from those selected by Roland. The man could be genuine-but to take precautions would do no harm.
"Yes, Earl, in all things." Lavinia clapped her hands. "In love, in life and in entertainment."
Music rose from a shadowed alcove where a small group sat with their instruments. The throb of drums merged with the thin, high wailing of pipes, the steady thrumming of plucked strings. It softened into a steady beat as an old man stepped forward to chant an involved saga dealing with an incredible journey through tremendous perils with final success. He bowed as coins showered at his feet to be followed by a troupe of young girls who danced with agile abandon.
Lavinia watched them, glancing at Dumarest, noting his attention. Beneath her fingers a morsel of bread crumbled to an untidy litter of crumbs.
"You like them, Earl?"
"They seem accomplished."
"You would like one? The one with the big mouth, for example? Or the one with the blonde hair?"
"Are they yours to give, my lady?"
"I-"
"Are they slaves?"
"There are no slaves on Zakym." Roland leaned forward, quick to soothe, aware of tension. "Lavinia was joking, Earl. She is a little jealous, I think."
"Of the dancers?" Dumarest was deliberately obtuse. "They are very skilled and it no doubt takes years of training to achieve such perfection, but, even so, I think you could hold your own with them, my lady."
"It is gracious of you to say so." Her tone was chill. "I, the Mistress of the Family, a common dancer. Well, I suppose there are worse fates. But assuming they were slaves and you desired one and I gave her to you, what then?"
"I would set her free."
"As a reward for pleasing you?"
Dumarest said, flatly, "Have you ever been a slave, my lady? Have you ever felt the weight of the collar of servitude? To know that disobedience means torment and could mean your life? No. Of course you haven't. If you had you would never talk so lightly of slaves. They are people, not things. Men and women with feelings, not items to be bought and used and sold."
"Earl. Lavinia was joking."
Dumarest looked at the hand Roland had rested on his arm. A small hand, the fingers thin, delicate, like the limbs of a spider-no, like the helpless appendages of a child. But a gesture from them could rob him of freedom. He was alone in a sealed castle, one against the servants and retainers, trapped in a place from which there could be no escape.
It was a time to be cautious.
"You spoke with feeling, Earl." Lavinia lifted a hand to the column of her throat as if feeling for the metal caress of a collar. "You have a hatred of those who would make slaves of others."
"Yes, my lady."
"Because you have worn the collar yourself, perhaps?" She gave him no time to answer. "No matter. If you have it is no doubt an experience you never wish to repeat. So many experiences, Earl. You must tell me more about them later."
"As you wish, my lady." Dumarest felt the impact of Roland's eyes. "But would it be wise?"
"What do you mean?"
"I understood that you were betrothed. Wouldn't your future husband object?"
"Gydapen? The Lord of Prabang?" Her laugh was brittle. "Who cares about him?"
"I do, my lady. He could be jealous and none could blame him for that. He has influence on this world and I have none. It would be best for me to take a room in a hotel in town. Then when a ship arrives, I can arrange passage."
"No!" Her rejection was too sharp and she realized it, making an effort to control her tone before she spoke again. "That is unnecessary, Earl. You are a welcome guest. Tell him so, Roland. Tell him he is welcome. What must I do in order to persuade him to stay?"
"Lavinia, Earl is being wise."
"No!"
"It is best that he should go. Here there could be danger and we must not expose him to unnecessary risks. He-"
"Roland, you talk like a fool!" She was impatient, taking his words at their face value, not realizing their true intent. Gentle at heart she would never force another to remain at risk. "What danger could threaten Earl? Who would dare to challenge him? He is no stranger to violence but here we are a peaceful people. We-"