"Yes, Highness Sin," Wor responded. "It will end soon now. Shall I--?" He made a snapping motion with his hands. Sin shook her head. "Not so quickly, Wor." She raised her voice slightly. "Margaret, do you want this thing?" Eldon resisted the temptation to turn, for that would have betrayed that he understood every word. Margaret's voice came clearly from behind him. "No!" she declared, her tone indicating revulsion at the sight of his maimed ugliness and the grime that clung to his blood-flecked skin. Then quickly she changed her mind. "For the Faith, Highness Sin--yes. He was always a fool, but with proper care perhaps enough of his mind can be restored to hasten The Night." "Granted." Sin sounded pleased at Margaret's devotion to the Faith. "This idiot creature could not possibly be El-ve-don. But have your slaves take it out of my sight. It sickens me." Eldon heard the girl he had once loved give an order, felt himself lifted and carried. A few minutes later, still feigning semiconsciousness, he was deposited on a soft bed. "What do you want with this thing?" It was the big man Sin had addressed as Wor, and he sounded suspicious. Margaret answered calmly. "As an unexpected aid to our plans." "How?" "Victor hates me since I chose you. Now Sin has taken a fancy to him. She will use him against us--if she suspects. And we both know Sin is dangerously clever. But I hope we can use this one--against Sin through Victor." "But can you be sure--?" "This one will do whatever I say." Margaret laughed confidently. "But remember, Wor dearest, for a while Eldon must be my only love. Now leave me alone with him." The big man muttered an oath. "Jealous? Don't be stupid, Wor. This should be a real surprise for Sin." * * * * * Eldon lay motionless, the slow, unsteady rise and fall of his chest the only sign of life. But his brain was alert. He heard the tantalizing sound of water being poured. A vessel was held to his lips and water dribbled into his mouth. It took all his control to keep from gulping greedily, and he had not had nearly enough when Margaret took the glass away. Once more there was water, this time mingled with perfumed soap on a soft cloth as she washed the dirt from his face. Once he had delighted to have this woman near him, but now it was all he could do to suppress a shudder. Whenever her hands touched his skin he could _feel_ that she was Of the Faith in a manner possible only through her own free will. She snipped the tattered remains of his clothing away and applied a soothing ointment to his cuts and scratches. He thought he understood why she did not leave such ministrations to her slaves. She wanted his first waking thoughts to be of her love and solicitude. His lips almost thinned angrily. He waited until she was growing impatient before he opened his single bloodshot eye. And then he held his face blank and empty.