The Tenth Son of a Tenth Son couldn't have cared less whether they bowed or not. The room was dark and rank with the smell of sickness. On a pallet in the center lay a huge Moruan, panting and groaning. He was wrapped like a mummy in bedclothes of scarlet interwoven with gold; on either side of the bed braziers flickered with sickly greenish light. His Eminence looked up at them from bloodshot eyes and greeted them with a groan of anguish that seemed to roll up from the soles of his feet. "Go away," he moaned, closing his eyes again and rolling over with his back toward them. The Red Doctor blinked at his companion, then turned to Aguar. "What illness is this?" he whispered. "He is afflicted with a Pox, as any fool can see. All others it kills--but His Eminence is the Tenth Son of a Tenth Son, and it is written--" "Yes, yes, I know. He can never die." Sam gave Wally a sour look. "What happens, though, if he just up and does?" Aguar's paw came down with a clatter on the hilt of his sword. "_He does not die._ We have you here now. You are doctors, you say. Cure him." They walked to the bedside and lifted back the covers. Jenkins took a limp paw in his hand. He finally found a palpable pulse just below the second elbow joint. It was fast and thready. The creature's skin bagged loosely from his arm. "Looks like His Eminence can't read," Wally muttered. "He's going fast, Doc." Jenkins nodded grimly. "What does it look like to you?" "How should I know? I've never seen a healthy Moruan before, to say nothing of a sick one. It looks like a pox all right." "Probably a viremia of some sort." Jenkins went over the great groaning hulk with inquiring fingers. "If it's a viremia, we're cooked," Stone whispered. "None of the drugs cross over--and we won't have time to culture the stuff and grow any new ones--" Jenkins turned to Aguar. "How long has this gone on?" "For days," the Moruan growled. "He can't speak. He grows hot and cannot eat. He moans until the Palace trembles." "What about your own doctors?" Aguar spat angrily on the floor. "They are jealous as cats until trouble comes. Then they hide in the caves like chickens. See the green flames? Death flames. They leave him here to die. But now that is all over. We have heard about you wizards from Hospital Earth. You cure all, the stories say. You are very wise, they say. You balance the humors and drive forth the spirits of the Pox like devils." He gave them a terrible grin and tightened his hand on the gold-encrusted sword. "Now we see." "We can't promise," Jenkins began. "Sometimes we're called too late--but perhaps not in this case," he added hastily when he saw the Moruan's face. "Tenth Son and all that. But you'll have to give us freedom to work." "What kind of freedom?" "We'll need supplies and information from our ship. We'll have to consult your physicians. We'll need healthy Moruans to examine--" "But you will cure him," Aguar said.