A troupe of zingart dancers spun and stamped, froth bubbling their lips, naked bodies scarred with symbolic designs. Their hair was fuzzed into gigantic balls, nose and ears pierced with skewers, bells around wrists, neck, and ankles. Two dwarfs scuttled beside them, collecting boxes rattling as they thrust them before the watchers.
The zingart dancers were followed by a dozen flagellants, chanting as they each lashed the other with spiked whips. The flagellants passed and a host of women rotated bellies and breasts as they clustered around a tall, bearded an shy;chorite. After them came a cluster of masked and decorated figures, some with whips hanging from their wrists, others with tufts of spiked fur.
Something exploded high above and the darkening sky shone brilliant with a gush of luminous stars.
Dumarest followed Lallia as she pushed her way through the crowd. The lustrous mane of her hair reflected the color shy;ful embers above, their dying light illuminating her long legs as they flashed beneath the hem of her iridescent dress. A masked reveler, one of a group of the local nobility, caught her arm as she passed.
"Come, my sweeting," he purred. "Such tender flesh should not pass uncaressed." He dropped both hands to her shoulders, forcing the material from her rounded breasts, his head dipping as he pressed his lips against her body.
Dumarest paused, watching, his muscles tense. Lallia did not seem to object to the rough treatment. She laughed and pressed herself closer to the gaudy finery the man wore. And then suddenly he cried out and thrust her away.
"Bitch! You she-devil! I'll teach you to hurt your betters!"
His hand bent, caught the whip dangling from his wrist, raised it high to slash across her face. He cried out again as Dumarest caught the raised hand, his fingers closing hard against yielding bone.
"You are excited, my lord," said Dumarest coldly. "I think it best that you take a little rest."
Abruptly he pushed, catching the man off-balance, thrust shy;ing him to sprawl in the road among the feet of dancing monstrosities. He rolled, trying to avoid the kicks of en shy;larged feet, soiling his finery with dirt and liquid filth.
Dumarest caught Lallia by the arm and urged her from the scene of the incident.
Laughing she held up a purse. "You see, lover, how easy it is? That fool was too intent on what he wanted to miss this. When I had it I hit him where it hurts. Shall we do it again?"
"No."
"But, lover, we need the stake. Why miss the chance?" "He wasn't alone," said Dumarest. "And you are rather unmistakable. When he misses his money he will come look shy;ing and his friends with him. I don't think they will be very gentle if they find you."
Lallia shrugged. "So?"
"So we find you something else to wear." Dumarest looked at the purse in her hand. "And you can pay for it.
The merchant was an old man with a stoop so pronounced that it gave him the appearance of a tall, thin bird of prey; an impression heightened by his hooked nose and balding head. He fingered Lallia's dress and sucked in his cheeks. "It is good," he admitted. "Fine and unusual material, but the customers for such are few. I am far from the field and must depend on local trade. It could lie for months and then, perhaps, I would have to sell it at a fraction of its worth."
"That's all I'm asking," said Lallia. She had taken charge of the transaction as soon as she had entered the shop. "One of your gowns, a coat, some other things. You should make a fat profit."
"My dear, you are a shrewd woman but you know little of local conditions. At carnival everyone goes mad, but normally a woman would be stoned for wearing a thing like this. However …"
Dumarest turned away as the haggling progressed. Out shy;side, in the narrow street beyond the shop, the throb and hum of carnival was very faint. The sky had darkened rapid shy;ly and a few stars shone in competition with the uprushing pyrotechnics. Two men wearing the unmistakable uniform of guards entered the street and loped past the shop. They seemed to be looking for someone and Dumarest could guess who it was.
"Hurry," he said turning to where the pair stood over a heap of clothing. "Take a gown, Lallia, something to cover your legs. And something else to cover your hair. Fancy dress will do."
The merchant looked up, his eyes shrewd. "And the dress she is wearing?"
"I'll continue to wear it," said Lallia firmly. She probed into the stolen purse for coins. "How much do I owe?"
"For the carnival costume, fifteen coryms." The man held out his hand as Lallia frowned at the coins. "Those seven-sided pieces are of five coryms each. Three will settle the bill." He nodded as she dropped the coins into his palm. "You may change at the rear, my dear. There will be no extra charge."
She returned wearing a long robe which touched the ground, sleeves falling past the tips of her fingers and a high headdress which completely covered her hair and gave an oval look to her face. The merchant handed her a mask.
"With this on your face, my dear, no one will recognize you."
"Should I worry if they do?" Lallia caught his hand and stared into the palm. "I read hands," she said quietly. "For five coryms I will read yours."
The merchant tugged at his hand. "Please, I have no time for such nonsense."
"Nonsense?" Lallia shook her head. "You be the judge. In your hand I see daughters of whom you are ashamed and sons who have caused you much grief, a third-" She frowned. "The third is the source of much heartbreak."
"Arnobalm," the merchant said quietly. "He has been ill since his youth. A virus disease for which there is no known cure. At least it is not known in the Web. Unless it is checked he will die within a season."
"But you have hope?" Lallia twisted the aged palm. "I read that you have much hope."
"It is all that is left. The expense is high but what is money when compared to life? And his faith is strong. Per shy;haps, on Shrine, he will be above to recover from the thing which saps at his life." The merchant pulled free his hand. "You have seen the ship, perhaps? With it rides the prayers and hopes of a hundred parents, a thousand relatives." He saw their expressions. "You do not know of Shrine?"
Dumarest shook his head.
"But you are of space, that I can tell by your uniform. Is it possible that the miracle planet is a stranger to you?"
"I come from Outside," said Dumarest. "The woman also. Traders."
"And traders are not interested in miracles, only in profits." The merchant sighed. "I understand. You are long on Joy?"
"A few hours."
"And you will leave with the carnival," said the merchant. "You space traders! Always on the move, never stopping, never putting down roots. But you have chosen a good time. There is much to see on Joy when the carnival is here. Ex shy;hibitions, a zoo, places of instruction." A shadow crossed his face. "And other things . . . but I will not spoil your pleasure." He bowed and ushered them towards the door.
Outside Lallia drew a deep breath. "He robbed us," she said. "You know that, I suppose. Why didn't you let me try to get some of it back?"
"By telling him lies?"
"What I read in his palm was true."
"And something he already knew." Dumarest took her arm. "Now empty that purse and get rid of it somewhere. And don't worry about the old man having robbed you. You bought more than a costume, you paid for his silence, he could have called the guards."