It seemed to him that the look in her eyes was a strange one: desire, jealousy, hatred perhaps? But she turned and led him within, down corridors lit only with a faint nightglow. She nudged an opener; a door before him flickered and was momentarily nullified. He stepped through and it returned to the solid state behind him. The Lady Moaris was waiting. She wore only the filmiest of gowns, and the longing was evident in her eyes. Herndon said, "Is this safe?" "It is. Moaris is away at Krellig's." Her lip curled in a bitter scowl. "He spends half his nights there, toying with the Seigneur's cast-off women. The room is sealed against spy-rays. There's no way he can find out you've been here." "And the girl--Karla? You trust her?" "As much as I can trust anyone." Her arms sought his shoulders. "My rogue," she murmured. "Why did you leave us at Molleccogg?" "Business of my own, milady." "I missed you. Molleccogg was a bore without you." Herndon smiled gravely. "Believe me, I didn't leave you because I chose to. But I had sworn to carry out duty elsewhere." She pulled him urgently to her. Herndon felt pity for this lonely noblewoman, first in rank among the ladies of the court, condemned to seek lovers among the stewards and grooms. "Anything I have is yours," she promised him. "Ask for anything! Anything!" "There is one prize you might secure for me," Herndon said grimly. "Name it. The cost doesn't matter." "There is no cost," Herndon said. "I simply seek an invitation to the court of the Seigneur. You can secure this through your husband. Will you do it for me?" "Of course," she whispered. She clung to him hungrily. "I'll speak to Moaris--tomorrow." CHAPTER VI At the end of the week, Herndon visited the Avenue of Bronze and learned from Bollar Benjin that sales of the starstones proceeded well, that the arrangement under royal patronage was a happy one, and that they would soon be relieved of most of their stock. It would, therefore, be necessary for him to make another trip to Vyapore during the next several weeks. He agreed, but requested an advance of two months' salary. "I don't see why not," Benjin agreed. "You're a valuable man, and we have the money to spare." He handed over a draft for ten thousand stellors. Herndon thanked him gravely, promised to contact him when it was time for him to make the journey to Vyapore and left. That night he departed for Meld XVII, where he sought out the surgeon who had altered his features after his flight from sacked Zonnigog. He requested certain internal modifications. The surgeon was reluctant, saying the operation was a risky one, very difficult, and entailed a fifty per cent chance of total failure, but Herndon was stubborn. It cost him twenty-five thousand stellors, nearly all the money he had, but he considered the investment a worthy one. He returned to Borlaam the next day. A week had elapsed since his departure.