"Hundred twenty!" "Hundred thirty!" "Do I hear a hundred forty? Surely no fine, strapping fighting man can go for less--" "Two hundred," Kyrsis said. "Two hundred! The Lady Kyrsis bids two hundred--" "Two fifty, vendor!" cried the old man by the block. "Three hundred," came back Kyrsis. "Do I hear three fifty--?" "With his wounds, he is worth no more than three," the old man mumbled. "Three twenty-five then! Do I hear three twenty-five?" "Three ten--" "Three fifty," echoed Kyrsis. The vendor paused and looked about. "Three fifty is bid...." He struck the gong. "Sold to the Lady Kyrsis for three fifty." Shane left the block, strode to the silver woman's side; and for a moment they stood there in vibrant silence, alone in the crowd, duelling with their eyes. Then Kyrsis asked: "What dark fate brought you here, _Gar_ Shane? When I last saw you, you were hewing a path through the _Malya_ horde at the arena...." "And you were in the prisoners' cage." The Earthman ignored the strange tremor in the silver woman's voice. His words were clipped. "Talu and I escaped and fled Amara in a flyer. But one of Quos Reggar's slavers sucked us in and brought us here." "The slavers came to rescue Reggar," Kyrsis said. "They swept Amara clean." She looked down, breathing deep as if to still some inner tension. And then: "Talu was with you? They brought her here--?" "--and put here aside. Her hair was cropped, so they knew she already had a master." Shane laughed harshly. "Me--I'd worn no yoke, so they sent me to the block." "Then ... let us go. I have already done my other buying." The tremor in Kyrsis' voice was stronger, now--a sort of undercurrent of strange excitement. "Your 'other buying'--?" "A few young slaves to ... to train for household use." The silver woman's fingers trembled, cold as ice, upon Shane's arm. "Come! Let us go now--quickly--" * * * * * She led Shane out, through other rooms, where other vendors hawked their wares, and other slaves stood shamed or sobbing, bared to the eager, weirdly-lusting eyes of the silver people. Then they reached a sort of transit station, and an attendant brought a car of a type Shane had never seen before, and they got in. Three frightened children, a _Malya_ boy of perhaps twelve and two _Chonya_ girls even younger, huddled at the back, their dark eyes big with panic. "Your slaves, Lady Kyrsis?" Shane asked coldly. The barb in his voice would have slashed through the scales of a _zanth_. The silver woman kept her eyes on the controls. The car hurtled off through a tube-like passage. She did not answer. Then the car halted. They got out--Shane, Kyrsis, children--and entered rooms, rooms luxuriously furnished in the alien style of the silver people. "And now?" Shane inquired thinly.