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Moving silently, Reith returned to the nearly dead campfire. He found a stick whose end could still be blown to redness and went back to Marot, who sat staring disgustedly at the leech. A touch of the glowing end caused the creature to drop off, and Marot stamped it into bloody slime.

The Koloftuma passed out of sight, although their voices could still be heard. Reith said: "The best thing I can think of is to get out on the road and ride straight at them, waving our swords and yelling like hell. My guess is we'll get through again."

"But suppose one of those sacred animals trips on a body and falls?"

"Not likely, with those six legs."

"But suppose—"

"Damn it, have you a better suggestion? Do you want to go back to Novo?"

"No, but—"

"All right, then. Saddle up!"

A quarter-hour later, the rearmost Koloftuma whirled about at the clatter of hooves. At the sight of two screaming Terrans charging with bared blades, the tailed Krishnans leaped off the causeway and scattered with cries of dismay. The three ayas galloped through unscathed. This time the Koloftuma did not even try to pursue.

II - THE CITADEL

Travel-stained, Reith and his companion rode into Mishé, a big sprawling city surrounded by a buff-gray wall. At the gateway, decorated with the heads of felons, stood a pair of men-at-arms in spired helmets and chain mail. Having examined the Earthmen's papers, they waved the travelers through.

"Where do we stay?" asked Marot.

"We'll stop at an inn I know to clean up. Later, I may be able to wangle us a berth in the Citadel."

Reith led the way to the inn, identified by the skull of a Krishnan beast above the doorway. Two hours later, bathed at the public bathhouse, shaved, and dressed in clean clothes, the Terrans ascended the sloping pavement to the Citadel. An impressive example of pre-gunpowder fortification, this mesalike acropolis crowned the city. The sides of the hill supporting it had been dug away to a nearly vertical slope and revetted with massive masonry.

Once inside the Citadel, Reith and Marot found themselves among huge, gray, graceless, rough-stone buildings. Here the Guardians—the Garma Qararuma, the knightly caste of Mikardand—lived well and pursued their duties. The gay hues of the knights' tunics and trews contrasted with the drab grays and browns of the commoners' garb. Numbers of these lesser folk went about their jobs in the Citadel, cleaning the streets and performing other humble tasks. They were clad in loose, short jackets, the women in skirts, the men in a triangular nether garment worn like an oversized diaper.

Women of the knightly caste went freely through the streets in bright, calf-length dresses, cut away in front below their blue-green nipples. One such lady, so clad but incongruously wearing a hat of obvious Terran inspiration, approached the travelers. She was pretty even by Terran standards, despite her flattish Krishnan features, her skin with its faint sheen of olive-green, and the pair of feathery antennae, which sprouted from the inner corners of her true eyebrows, over which they lay when in repose. In Mikardandou she said:

"Hail, fair sir! Are you not Master Reit', from Novorecife?"

"Yes," said Reith. "And you are the Lady—ah—Gashigi?"

"Aye; how good of you! And the other Ertsu?"

"The learned Doctor Marot." Reith switched to English. "Professor, this is the Lady Gashigi, an old friend."

"Enchanté, Madame!" said Marot, bowing low and kissing Gashigi's hand. She seemed a little startled but not at all displeased.

"He hath fair Terran manners," she said. "Doth he speak our tongue?"

"He is studying it," said Reith.

Gashigi proffered a cigar case to Reith, who said: "No, thank you. I don't smoke, remember?"

Gashigi offered the case to Marot, who accepted a cigar. The lady next produced a small device like a barrelless flintlock pistol. When she pulled the trigger, a hammer sent a shower of sparks into a recess filled with tinder. A flame blazed up, with which she lighted Marot's cigar and hers. Then she shook out the last embers, took a tinderbox from her reticule, and recharged the fire-lighter with tinder.

"Hey!" said Reith. "May I see that device, please?" He examined the lighter. "I haven't seen one of these before."

"One of our commoners invented it," said she. "He was elevated to the Knights of Qarar as a reward."

Reith handed back the lighter. "As pretty as ever, I see. Where did you get that hat?"

"This?" she smiled. "A milliner in town. Hath it a Terran look?"

"Yes. That's why I asked."

"Know you not that Terran fashions are now the rage? It makes the Grand Master furious. He issues sumptuary decrees, forbidding them to us Garmiya, saying 'tis a brazen insult to our ancient ways. But he shall learn with what success he can decree what a woman shall and shan't wear! We have no fewer rights than the female commoners, who wear whatsoever they list!"

"How have you been, Lady Gashigi?"

"I am now head of the savings section of the banking department, so I can vouchsafe sound advice in matters monetary. But interest in finance is not that wherefor I remember you, Fergus!" (She pronounced it "far-goose.") "Ah, how vividly I recall our one glorious night! Were't not for a certain difficulty, I'd invite you and your companion again to monstrate Ertso virility. Even so, belike a rendezvous could be arranged in the lower city."

"What's this difficulty?" asked Reith suspiciously.

"You see, Khabur waxed passing wroth. Since you're an off-worlder, he cannot challenge you to battle. Instead, he swears that, if ever he meet you, he'll cut off your nose, your ears, and the other projecting parts of your body."

"Thanks for the warning," said Reith. "Much as I should like to renew so well-remembered an acquaintance, we must go to the Treasurer's Office forthwith and then move on. If we pass through Mishé on our return journey—we shall see. For now, fare you well! Come, Aristide."

"What was that all about?" asked Marot.

Reith translated Gashigi's remarks, adding: "The knightly caste here practices a kind of communism, with property collectively owned. Moreover, they apply the principle to sex. Noble men and women couple with whomever they like. Eggs are hatched in a crèche and brought up by commoner nannies, so nobody knows who's related to whom. These females have the nearest thing to sexual equality on Krishna."

"It sounds," said Marot, "like Plato's Republic put to practice."

"I suppose so. They have informal 'relationships,' but it's bad form to take on a new partner before dismissing his or her predecessor. When that happens, the males fight duels, while the females slip daggers into their rivals' ribs or poison into their soup."

"Like our Terran Renaissance," said Marot. "Such arrangements have been tried on Earth with only indifferent success. On both planets, I suspect, many develop proprietary feelings towards their loved ones. They expect strict fidelity from them but demand complete freedom of action for themselves. So conflict is inevitable; and I take it you are involved in such?"

Reith nodded glumly. "Alicia had left a few moons before, and I was—well, you know what it's like. Gashigi assured me this Khabur blug wouldn't mind, since they were about to break up anyway. But things don't seem to have worked out that way."

"My friend—" Marot hesitated. "I would not dream of criticizing your conduct; but I should be happier if you did not take the lady down on her offer."

"I think you mean, take her up; though it makes a kind of sense the other way, too. Have you no curiosity? She included you."

"Absolutely not! I am not amorously adventurous. My one aim is to return to Novo with my fossils intact. Then, nous verrons."