Moaris was an expert. He sketched patterns on her body, always taking care that the heat never penetrated below the upper surface of the flesh. It was a form of torture that might endure for hours, until the blood bubbled in her veins and she died. Herndon realized the Seigneur was peering at him. "Do you find this courtly amusement to your taste, Herndon?" Krellig asked. "Not quite, Sire." A hum of surprise rose that such a newcomer to the court should dare to contradict the Seigneur. "I would prefer a quicker death for the lady." "And rob us of our sport?" Krellig asked. "I would indeed do that," said Herndon. Suddenly he thrust open his jewelled cloak; the Seigneur cowered back as if he expected a weapon to come forth, but Herndon merely touched a plate in his chest, activating the device that the Meldian had implanted in his body. The neuronic mesh functioned in reverse; gathering a charge of deadly force, it sent the bolt surging along Herndon's hand. A bright arc of fire leaped from Herndon's pointing finger and surrounded the girl in the cage. "Barr!" she screamed, breaking her silence at last, and died. * * * * * Again Herndon discharged the neuronic force, and Moaris, his hands singed, dropped his heat-gun. "Allow me to introduce myself," Herndon said, as Krellig stared white-faced at him and the nobles of the court huddled together in fright. "I am Barr Herndon, son of the First Earl of Zonnigog. Somewhat over a year ago a courtier's jest roused you to lay waste to your fief of Zonnigog and put my family to the sword. I have not forgotten that day." "Seize him!" Krellig shrieked. "Anyone who touches me will be blasted with the fire," Herndon said. "Any weapon directed at me will recoil upon its owner. Hold your peace and let me finish. "I am also Barr Herndon, Second Steward to Lord Moaris, and the lover of the woman who died before you. It must comfort you, Moaris, to know that the man who cuckolded you was no mere groom, but a noble of Zonnigog. "I am also," Herndon went on, in the dead silence, "Barr Herndon the spacerogue, driven to take up a mercenary's trade by the destruction of my household. In that capacity I became a smuggler of starstones, and"--he bowed--"through an ironic twist, found myself owing a debt of fealty to none other than you, Seigneur. "I hereby revoke that oath of fealty, Krellig--and for the crime of breaking an oath to my monarch, I sentence myself to death. But also, Krellig, I order a sentence of death upon your head for the wanton attack upon my homeland. And you, Moaris--for your cruel and barbaric treatment of this woman whom you never loved, you must die too. "And all of you--you onlookers and sycophants, you courtiers and parasites, you too must die. And you, the court clowns, the dancing bears and captive life-forms of far worlds, I will kill you too, as once I killed a slave proteus--not out of hatred, but simply to spare you from further torment."