understand, Rhoa. To acknowledge our love now would play
directly into Jaltor's hands. Once our names are linked together he will
realize Heglar attempted to assassinate him because I hired him to do
so."

"I have given this a great deal of thought," Rhoa said coldly, "and I
think you're being overly cautious. Let the good people of Ammad talk;
the mere fact that we take no trouble to conceal our love will prove to
them you had no hand in old Heglar's disappearance."

"You're not making sense!" Vokal cried. "The minute Jaltor hears we are
together he will put enough of the threads in place to see the real
picture. He will guess that it was I who hired Heglar to attempt that
mock assassination in an effort to usurp Garlud's position in Ammad."

He threw his hands wide in a gesture of despair. "In the name of the
God," he pleaded, "don't upset everything this short of success! Go back
to your home, Rhoa. Give me a few suns--seven; no more than seven--and
I promise you I will have things worked out the way we both want them.
Do this for me because I love you and you love me and we can be together
without fear of Jaltor."

"How can you know seven days will be time enough?" she asked doubtfully.

"In a few minutes I am expecting a visit from Sitab, a high-ranking
guard of Jaltor's court," he explained. "He is in my employ, secretly,
and will do as I wish. I shall instruct him to learn if Heglar and
Garlud are held in the pits beneath Jaltor's palace. If they are, he
will arrange the deaths of both; if they are not there we can assume
both are already dead and act accordingly. But first I must _know_,
Rhoa."

* * * * *

She stood there, erect and beautiful in the shimmering radiance of
candle light, indecision plain in her face. "When will this man Sitab
get the information for you?"

"Tonight! Between the hour I discuss the problem with him and the hour
of dawn. You will do this my way, Rhoa?"

A discreet knock at the door interrupted her reply. Vokal, sudden alarm
plain in his face, stiffened. "Who is there?"

"The guard, Most-High," said a voice, muffled by the planks. "A second
visitor, who refused to give his name, awaits your pleasure."

"It is Sitab," Vokal told the woman, whispering. "Will you give me those
seven suns, Rhoa? Will you go now, and be patient for that long? What is
your answer?"

Abruptly she nodded. "Seven suns, Vokal. But no more than seven."

His breath