Benjin smiled and said, "Good. Let me explain who we are, then. First, names: this is Heitman Oversk, younger brother of the Lord Moaris." * * * * * Herndon stared at the noble. A second son--ah, yes. A familiar pattern. Second sons, propertyless but bearing within themselves the spark of nobility, frequently deviated into shadowy paths. "I had the pleasure of outbidding your brother this morning," he said. "Outbidding Moaris? Impossible!" Herndon shrugged. "His lady beckoned him in the middle of the auction, and he left. Otherwise the proteus would have been his, and I'd have nine hundred stellors more in my pocket right now." "These two," Benjin said, indicating the commoners, "are named Dorgel and Razumod. They have full voice in our organization; we know no social distinctions. And this--" gesturing to the girl--"is Marya. She belongs to Dorgel, who does not object to making short-term loans." Herndon said, "_I_ object. But state your business with me, Benjin." The dried little man said, "Fetch a sample, Razumod." The burly commoner rose from his seat and moved into a dark corner of the poorly-lit room; he fumbled at a drawer for a moment, then returned with a gem that sparkled brightly even through his fisted fingers. He tossed it down on the table, where it gleamed coldly. Herndon noticed that neither Heitman Oversk nor Dorgel let their glance linger on the jewel more than a second, and he likewise turned his head aside. "Pick it up," Benjin said. The jewel was icy-cold. Herndon held it lightly and waited. "Go ahead," Benjin urged. "Study it. Examine its depths. It's a lovely piece, believe me." Hesitantly Herndon opened his cupped palm and stared at the gem. It was broad-faceted, with a luminous inner light, and--he gasped--a face, within the stone. A woman's face, languorous, beckoning, seeming to call to him as from the depths of the sea-- Sweat burst out all over him. With an effort he wrenched his gaze from the stone and cocked his arm; a moment later he had hurled the gem with all his force into the farthest corner of the room. He whirled, glared at Benjin, and leaped for him. "Cheat! Betrayer!" His hands sought Benjin's throat, but the little man jumped lithely back, and Dorgel and Razumod interposed themselves hastily between them. Herndon stared at Razumod's sweaty bulk a moment and gave ground, quivering with tension. "You might have warned me," he said. Benjin smiled apologetically. "It would have ruined the test. We must have strong men in our organization. Oversk, what do you think?" "He threw down the stone," Heitman Oversk said heavily. "It's a good sign. I think I like him." "Razumod?" The commoner gave an assenting grunt, as did Dorgel. Herndon tapped the table and said, "So you're dealing in starstones? And you gave me one without warning? What if I'd succumbed?" "We would have sold you the stone and let you leave," Benjin said.