"No," she whispered, tears in her eyes. "No."

"But I have given you many things," I wept. "And have I not given you great pleasure?"

"Yes," she said, "you have given me many things."

"And have I not," I demanded, "given you great pleasure!"

"yes," she said, "you have."

"Then why!" I cried out.

"I do not love you," she said.

"You love me!" I screamed at her.

"No," she said, "I do not love you. And I have never loved you."

I wept.

I returned my blade to its sheath.

"Take her," I said to Tab. "She is yours."

"I love her," he said.

"Take her away!" I screamed. "Leave my service! Leave my sight!"

"Midice," said Tab, hoa.r.s.ely.

She fled to him and he put one arm about her. Then they turned and left the room, he still carrying the unsheathed sword.

I walked slowly about the room, and then I sat on the edge of the stone couch, on the furs, and put my head in my hands.

How long I had sat thus I do not know.

I heard, after some time, a slight sound in the threshold of my quarters.

I looked up.

In the threshold stood Telima.

I looked at her.

"Have you come to scrub the tiles?" I asked, sternly.

She smiled. "It was done earlier," she said, "that I might serve late at the feast."

"Does the kichen master know you are here?" I asked.

She shook her head. "No," she said.

"You will be beaten," I said.

I saw taht, about her left arm, she wore again the armlet of gold, which I remembered from so long ago, that which I had taken from her to give to Midice.

"you have the armlet," I said.

"Yes," she said.

"How did you get it?" I asked.

"From Midice," she said.

"You stole it," I said.

"No," she said.

I met her eyes.

"Midice gave it back to me," she said.

"When?" i asked.

"More than a month ago," said Telima.

"She was kind to a Kettle Slave," I said.

Telima smiled, tears in her eyes. "yes," she said.

"I have not see you wear it," I said.

"I have kept it hidden in the straw of my mat," said Telima.

I looked on Telima. She stood in the doorway, rather timidly. She was barefoot.

She wore the brief, stained, wretched garment of a Kettle Slave. About her throat, locked, was a simple, steel collar. But she wore on her left arm an armlet of gold.

"Why have you worn the armlet of gold?" I asked.

"It is al I have," she said.

"Why have you come here at this time?" I asked.

"Midice," she said.

I cried out and put my head in my hands weeping.

Telima timidly came closer. "She did care for you," she said.

I shook my head.

"She cannot help it if she did not love you," whispered Telima.

"Go back to the kitchens!" I wept. "Go back now, or I will kill you."

Telima knelt down, a few feet from me. There were tears in her eyes.

"Go away," I cried. "or I will kill you!"

She did not move, but knelt there, with tears in her eyes. She shook her head.

"no," she said, "you would not. You could not."

"I am Bosk!" I cried, standing.

"yes," she said, "You ae Bosk." she smiled. "It was I who gave you that name."

"It was you," I cried, "who destroyed me!"

"If any was destroyed," said she, "it was not you, but I."

"You destroyed me!" I wept.

"You have not been destroyed, my Ubar," said she.

"You have destroyed me," I cried, "and now I shall destroy you!"

I leaped to my feet, whipping the sword from my sheath and stood over her, the blade raised to strike.

She kneeling, looked up at me, tears in her eyes.

In rage I hurled the blade away and it struck the stones of the wall thirty feet across the room and clattered to the floor, and I sank to my knees weeping, my head in my hands.

"Midice," I wept. "Midice."

I had vowed once that I had lost two women, and would never lose another. And now Midice was gone. I had given her the richest of silks, the most precious of jewels. I had become famed. I had become powerful and rich. I had become famed.

I had become powerful and rich. I had become great. But now she was gone. It had not mattered. Nothing had mattered. And now she was gone, fled away in the night, no longer mine. To me she had chosen another. I had lost her. I had lost her.

"It is hard," I said to Telima, "to love, and not to be loved."

"I know," she said.

I looked at her. Her hair had been combed.

"You hair is combed," I said.

She smiled. "One of the girls in the kitchen," she said, "has a broken comb, one that Ula threw away."

"She let you used it," I said.

"I did much work for her," said Telima, "that I might, one night, when I chose, use it."

"Perhaps the new girl," I said, "to please the boy Fish, will sometimes wish to use the comb."

Telima smiled. "The she, too," said Telima, "will have to work."

I smile.

"Come here," I said.

Obediently the girl rose to her feet and came and knelt before me.

I put out my hands and took her head in my hands. "My proud Telima," I said, "my former mistress." I looked on her, kneeling barefoot before me, my steel collared locked on her throat, in the scanty, miserable, stained garment of the Kettle Slave.

"My Ubar," she whispered.

"Master," I said.

"Master," she said.

I drew the golden armlet from her arm, and looked at it.

"How dare you, Slave," I asked, "wear this before me?"

She looked startled. "I wanted to please you," she whispered.

I threw the armlet to one side. "Kettle Slave," I said.

She looked down, and a tear ran down her cheek.

"You thought to win my favor," I said, "by coming here at this time."

She looked up. "No," she said.

"But your trick," I told her, "has not worked."

She shook her head, no.

I put my hands on her collar, forcing her to look directly at me. "you are well worthy of a collar," I said.

Her eyes flashed, the Telima of old. "You, too," she said, "wear a collar!"

I tore away from my throat the broad scarlet ribbon, with its pedant medallion, with the tarn ship and the int.i.tials of the Council of Captains. I flung it from me.

"Arrogant Slave!" I said.

She said nothing.