"Not here," the barkeep said softly, not wanting to create a disturbance. Then he looked at Felg's eyes. Felg's eyes told him that Felg had been made a fool of before the woman, but they did not tell him what Felg did not know: Felg had been made a fool of by himself. The eyes did say, however, that if Felg did not have satisfaction from the lowborn, he would have it from the barkeep himself. And the voice, a roaring, thundering bellow, confirmed this. "I'll duel with him here!" cried Felg. "Here and now I will!" He added softly, almost purring: "Or I'll duel with you outside, friend. Do you believe in metempsychosis, friend?" Matlin knew what the barkeep's unspoken answer was by the ashen look which came over the man's face. He most assuredly did not believe. He was afraid to die. He did not want to duel with Felg, a bully and probably an expert with the mace. He sighed, shrugging his shoulders. He looked at the lowborn and shook his head. He said, "I'll get the maces." "Room!" someone bellowed, excitement in his voice. "Give them room!" Kedaki and extra-planetaries moved away from the bar, forming a rough square a dozen paces across. The barkeep ducked through a doorway and Matlin heard a lady tourist from Polaris say, almost squealing the words, "This is so exciting." The tone of her voice disgusted him. The extra-Kedaki, he thought. Perhaps they were guilty too. At least, if they enjoyed the fantastic mores of Kedak, if in any way they encouraged them, then they shared guilt with the Kedaki highborn. But not equal guilt. No, not that. For clearly, the man named Felg was chiefly to blame here. Big, powerful-looking Felg--a murderer. Because, Matlin told himself grimly, it would be murder. The smaller Kedaki, the lowborn, didn't have a chance. Looking at his face, Matlin knew that the man was aware of this. And Felg? Felg was aware of it too. In the case of the lowborn awareness did not bring terror, for virtually all lowborn Kedaki believed in reincarnation. Thus, facing death, Felg's victim was almost sure he would be reborn in a higher station in life. But Felg did not believe. Felg was a trained maceman: the scars on his cheeks--white scar tissue over crushed cheekbones--proved this. Felg would kill the lowborn and it would be cold-blooded murder morally if not in the eyes of the Kedaki law. * * * * * A buzz of eagerness stirred the crowd as the barkeep returned with the traditional _melgast_, the metal bar from which the two dueling maces hung on hooks. The maces were a yard long, their stems extremely light-weight and thick enough around at the base for a man to hold comfortably, their heads round and heavy and black and studded with a score or so of half-inch long spikes. As the barkeep brought the _melgast_ forward, the maces swung back and forth on their hooks.