Shainsa?"

I could hardly take it in that for the moment I was reprieved from
sudden death, from being beaten into bloody death there at Kyral's feet.
The girl went back to her thronelike chair. Now I must either tell the
truth or a convincing lie, and I was lost in a game where I didn't know
the rules. The explanation I thought might get me out alive might be the
very one which would bring down instant and painful death. Suddenly,
with a poignancy that was almost pain, I wished Rakhal were standing
here at my side.

But I had to bluff it out alone.

If they had recognized me for Race Cargill, the Terran spy who had often
been in Shainsa, they might release me--it was possible, I supposed,
that they were Terran sympathizers. On the other hand, Kyral's shouts of
"Spy, renegade!" seemed to suggest the opposite.

I stood trying to ignore the searing pain in my lashed arm, but I knew
that blood was running hot down my shoulder. Finally I said, "I came to
settle blood-feud."

Kyral's lips thinned in what might have been meant for a smile. "You
shall, assuredly. But with whom, remains to be seen."

Knowing I had nothing more to lose, I said, "With a renegade called
Rakhal Sensar."

Only the old man echoed my words dully, "Rakhal Sensar?"

I felt heartened, seeing I wasn't dead yet.

"I have sworn to kill him."

Kyral suddenly clapped his hands and shouted to the white _chak_ to
clean up the broken glass on the floor. He said huskily, "You are not
yourself Rakhal Sensar?"

"I _told_ you he wasn't," said Dallisa, high and hysterically. "I _told_
you he wasn't."

"A scarred man, tall--what was I to think?" Kyral sounded and looked
badly shaken. He filled a glass himself and handed it to me, saying
hoarsely, "I did not believe even the renegade Rakhal would break the
code so far as to drink with me."

"He would not." I could be positive about this. The codes of Terra had
made some superficial impress on Rakhal, but down deep his own world
held sway. If these men were at blood-feud with Rakhal and he stood here
where I stood, he would have let himself be beaten into bloody rags
before tasting their wine.

I took the glass, raised it and drained it. Then, holding it out before
me, I said, "Rakhal's life is mine. But I swear by the red star and by
the unmoving mountains, by the black snow and by the Ghost Wind, I have
no quarrel with any beneath this roof." I cast the glass to the floor,
where it shattered on the