"He does not!" she yelled. "He belongs to me most of all. I was going to mate with him when he returned from his Theft, wasn't I, Mother?" "There wasn't anything official," Eric heard Rita the Record-Keeper admonishing as he tried to stanch the flow of blood by bringing his shoulder up and pressing it against the wound. "There couldn't be anything official about it until he'd achieved manhood. So you'll just have to wait your turn, Harriet, darling. You'll have to wait until your elders are finished with him. There'll be plenty left for you." "There won't be," the girl pouted. "I know what you're like. There won't be hardly anything left." Eric was shoved at the small burrow entrance again. The moment he was inside it, one of his guards planted a foot in his back, knocking the breath out of him. The kick propelled him forward, staggering wildly for balance, until he smashed into the opposite wall. As he fell, unable to use his arms to cushion himself, he heard laughter behind him in the great central burrow. He rolled on his side dizzily. There was a fresh flow of blood coming down from his cheek. This wasn't the homecoming he'd imagined after his Theft--not in the slightest! What was going on? He knew where he was. A tiny, blind-alley burrow off Mankind's major meeting-place, a sort of little vault used mostly for storage. Excess food and goods stolen from Monster territory were kept here until there was enough accumulated for a trading expedition to the back burrows. Occasionally, also, a male Stranger, taken prisoner in battle, might be held in this place until Mankind found out if his tribe valued him enough to pay anything substantial for his recovery. And if they didn't.... * * * * * Eric remembered the unusual structure that the women had been building near the Royal Mound--and shivered. The memory that he'd suppressed had now come alive in his mind. And it fitted with the way Harriet had acted--and with what her mother, Rita the Record-Keeper, had said. They couldn't be planning that for him! He was a member of Mankind, almost a full warrior. They didn't even do that to Strangers captured in battle--not _normal_ Strangers. A warrior was always respected as a warrior. At the worst, he deserved a decent execution, quietly done. Except for--Except for-- "_No!_" he screamed. "_No!_" The single guard who'd been left on duty at the entrance turned around and regarded him humorously. "Oh, yes," he said. "Oh, definitely yes! We're going to have a lot of fun with both of you, as soon as the women say they're ready." He nodded with ominous, emphatic slowness and turned back to miss none of the preparations.