A withered crone led Craig and Narla to a hut. "Rest here, warrior--you and your woman. Tomorrow will be time enough to think of work and duty." She left them, then, closing the door behind her as she departed. Silence echoed through the room. Wordless, Craig turned to leave. But Narla's voice stopped him: "Wait, Craig Nesom...." He swung round. "What--?" She said, "You didn't tell them that I was Zenaor's daughter. You let them believe I was your woman." A note of strain, of puzzlement, crept into her tone. "Why, Earthman? Why?" Craig shrugged. "What point was there? Did it matter?" "Yes, Craig." The grey eyes were thoughtful now. "Yes, it matters very much. You brought me here to use as a weapon against my father--yet now you keep my secret. Why?" Craig shrugged again, not speaking. "Because Zenaor's daughter would have received a different welcome, Craig; so very different. You know that, surely." He nodded slowly. "Yes, I knew it." "Then why--?" "Because there's been too much of blood and killing." He lashed out the words in sudden fury, out of all proportion. "I wouldn't turn in a dog to be tormented...." The girl came to him, through the shadows, till she was close ... so very close. "Then ... it was not for anything that you felt towards me that you saved me?" She swayed as she spoke--swayed forward, against him. He could feel the slow beat of her heart, the measured pressure of her breathing. The fragrance of her hair rose in his nostrils. "No," he said. "No. There was nothing." For a long, long moment she stood still, not moving. Then, very softly, she said, "You lie, Craig Nesom!" Something inside Craig let go like a taut spring snapping. "Damn you--!" he choked, and crushed her to him, hard against him. She came willingly, body warm and vibrant; eyes closed, lips parted. Red lips ... softer than any dream of Vydys. Craig drank deep of them. Then, at last, the kiss was ended. They stood there, breathing hard, clinging to each other in the semi-darkness; and Narla said, "They spoke truly, Craig Nesom. I am--will always be--your woman." He kissed her again, then, while a knot drew tight in his belly, and his throat swelled, and his eyes stung. But all he could whisper was "Narla ... Narla...." Outside someone knocked on the door. Craig stiffened; straightened. "What is it?" "It's me Bukal. Roh's coming up. Would you raid with us?" Craig looked at Narla. Pain was in her eyes, but her voice stayed steady: "Your life's your own, voyager. And ... I'll be waiting." Craig called, "I'm coming, Bukal!" They kissed again, and then he left her, striding out into the pale green light of the ebbing day. * * * * * Over by the disc-shed, men were working--stacking the saucers one upon the other till they formed neat cylinders, each half-a-dozen discs high.