Herndon compelled himself to kneel. "I thank you for the honor your Grace bestows upon me this night." "You needn't thank me," Moaris grunted. "My wife asked for your name to be put on my invitation list. But I suppose you know all that. You look familiar, Herndon. Where have I seen you before?" Presumably Moaris knew that Herndon had been employed in his own service. But he merely said, "I once had the honor of bidding against you for a captive proteus in the slave market, milord." A flicker of recognition crossed Moaris' seamed face, and he smiled coldly. "I seem to remember," he said. A gong sounded. "We mustn't keep the Seigneur waiting," said Moaris. "Come." Together, they went forward to the Grand Chamber of the Seigneur of Borlaam. * * * * * Moaris entered first, as befitted his rank, and took his place to the left of the monarch, who sat on a raised throne decked with violet and gold. Herndon knew protocol; he knelt immediately. "Rise," the Seigneur commanded. His voice was a dry whisper, feathery-sounding, barely audible and yet commanding all the same. Herndon rose and stared levelly at Krellig. The monarch was a tiny man, dried and fleshless; he seemed almost to be a humpback. Two beady, terrifying eyes glittered from a wrinkled, world-weary face. Krellig's lips were thin and bloodless, his nose a savage slash, his chin wedge-shaped. Herndon let his eyes rove. The hall was huge, as he had expected; vast pillars supported the ceiling, and rows of courtiers flanked the walls. There were women, dozens of them: the Seigneur's mistresses, no doubt. In the middle of the hall hung suspended something that looked to be a giant cage, completely cloaked in thick draperies of red velvet. Some pet of the Seigneur's probably lurked within: a vicious pet, Herndon theorized, possibly a Villidoni gyrfalcon with honed talons. "Welcome to the court," the Seigneur murmured. "You are the guest of my friend Moaris, eh?" "I am, Sire," Herndon said. In the quietness of the hall his voice echoed cracklingly. "Moaris is to provide us all with some amusement this evening," remarked the monarch. The little man chuckled in anticipatory glee. "We are very grateful to your sponsor, the Lord Moaris, for the pleasure he is to bring us this night." Herndon frowned. He wondered obscurely whether he was to be the source of amusement. He stood his ground unafraid; before the evening had ended, he himself would be amused at the expense of the others. "Raise the curtain," Krellig commanded. Instantly two Toppidan slaves emerged from the corners of the throneroom and jerked simultaneously on heavy cords that controlled the curtain over the cage. Slowly the thick folds of velvet lifted, revealing, as Herndon had suspected, a cage. There was a girl in the cage.