tingy. His presents are not
as lavish as they could be. I can make him a return-present of part of
the money we won in combat. That frees me of duty to him. Then I could
accept the balance of the money from you, and become a retainer of
yours."

"Oh," said Hoddan.

"You need a retainer badly," said Thal. "You do not know the customs
here. For example, there is enmity between Don Loris and the young Lord
Ghek. If the young Lord Ghek is as enterprising as he should be, some of
his retainers should be lying in wait to cut our throats as we approach
Don Loris' stronghold."

"Hm-m-m," said Hoddan grimly. But Thal seemed undisturbed. "This system
of gifts and presents sounds complicated. Why doesn't Don Loris simply
give you so much a year, or week, or whatnot?"

Thal made a shocked sound.

"That would be pay! A Darthian gentleman does not serve for pay! To
offer it would be insult!" Then he said, "Listen!"

He reined in. Hoddan clumsily followed his example. After a moment or
two Thal clucked to his horse and started off again.

"It was nothing," he said regretfully. "I hoped we were riding into an
ambush."

* * * * *

Hoddan grunted. It could be that he was being told a tall tale. But back
at the spaceport, the men who came after him waving large knives had
seemed sincere enough.

"Why should we be ambushed?" he asked. "And why do you hope for it?"

"Your weapons would destroy our enemies," said Thal placidly, "and the
pickings would be good." He added: "We should be ambushed because the
Lady Fani refused to marry the Lord Ghek. She is Don Loris' daughter,
and to refuse to marry a man is naturally a deadly insult. So he should
ravage Don Loris' lands at every opportunity until he gets a chance to
carry off the Lady Fani and marry her by force. That is the only way the
insult can be wiped out."

"I see," said Hoddan ironically.

He didn't. The two horses topped a rise, and far in the distance there
was a yellow light, with a mist above it as of illuminated smoke.

"That is Don Loris' stronghold," said Thal. He sighed. "It looks like we
may not be ambushed."

They weren't. It was very dark where the horses forged ahead through
brushwood. As they moved onward, the single light became two. They were
great bonfires burning in iron cages some forty feet up in the air.
Those cages projected from the battlements of a massive, cut-stone wall.
There was no light anywhere else underne