d cold.

"You damned fools," I snarled. "Magnusson will identify me! Can't you
realize you're dealing with an impostor?"

One of the guards said to the legate in an undertone, "Maybe we ought to
hold him as a suspicious character." But the legate shook his head. "Not
worth the trouble. Cargill said it was a private affair. You might
search him, make sure he's not concealing contraband weapons," he added,
and talked softly to the wide-eyed clerk in the background while the
guards went through my shirtcloak and pockets.

When they started to unwrap the silk-shrouded Toy I yelled--if the thing
got set off accidentally, there'd be trouble. The legate turned and
rebuked, "Can't you see it's embroidered with the Toad God? It's a
religious amulet of some sort, let it alone."

They grumbled, but gave it back to me, and the legate commanded, "Don't
mess him up any more. Give him back his knife and take him to the gates.
But make sure he doesn't come back."

I found myself seized and frog-marched to the gate. One guard pushed my
skean back into its clasp. The other shoved me hard, and I stumbled,
fell sprawling in the dust of the cobbled street, to the accompaniment
of a profane statement about what I could expect if I came back. A
chorus of jeers from a cluster of _chak_ children and veiled women broke
across me.

I picked myself up, glowered so fiercely at the giggling spectators that
the laughter drained away into silence, and clenched my fists, half
inclined to turn back and bull my way through. Then I subsided. First
round to Rakhal. He had sprung the trap on me, very neatly.

The street was narrow and crooked, winding between doubled rows of
pebble-houses, and full of dark shadows even in the crimson noon. I
walked aimlessly, favoring the arm the guard had crushed. I was no
closer to settling things with Rakhal, and I had slammed at least one
gate behind me.

Why hadn't I had sense enough to walk up and demand to _see_ Race
Cargill? Why hadn't I insisted on a fingerprint check? I could prove my
identity, and Rakhal, using my name in my absence, to those who didn't
know me by sight, couldn't. I could at least have made him try. But he
had maneuvered it very cleverly, so I never had a chance to insist on
proofs.

I turned into a wineshop and ordered a dram of greenish mountainberry
liquor, sipping it slowly and fingering the few bills and coins in my
pockets. I'd better forget about warning Juli. I couldn't 'vise h