The nostalgic refrain went on until Heglar had emptied his first glass of wine and extended it for a second helping. This time he spilled a few drops on the floor as a voluntary offering to the God-Whose-Name-May-Not-Be-Spoken-Aloud--a tribute given usually only during formal dinners--gulped down several swallows of the alcoholic grape beverage, then turned those sharp eyes on Vokal. "But," he said hoarsely, "you didn't ask me here to talk of the old days. What do you want of me, noble Vokal?" * * * * * There was a short period of silence during which Vokal appeared to be making up his mind. Wavering light from candles set in wall brackets about the long, richly furnished room gave a lean, almost vulpine cast to his calm face and a glittering sparkle to his cold eyes. Finally he said: "I want to make you a wealthy man again, Heglar." The hand holding the wine goblet jerked involuntarily and some of the wrinkles in the aged face seemed to deepen. "... Why me?" Vokal smiled dreamily. "Right to the point, eh, Heglar? It is one of my reasons for selecting you." "Hmm." The old one looked down into his half-empty goblet to hide the sudden gleam in his eyes. "Tell me more of these reasons for wishing to make me rich." "The list is long," Vokal said graciously, "so I shall give only the principal ones. First, it is well known throughout all Ammad that you are a man of your word--that once you give a pledge nothing in this world or the next could force you to go back on your word." Heglar scowled. "One of the reasons I am a poor man today!" "Secondly," Vokal went on, "it is reported that you are a walking dead man, that you have only a few moons left to live because of the sickness in your throat." At the other's startled expression he waved a languid hand. "It is common knowledge, noble Heglar; your physician is a talkative man." "Thirdly," he continued, his voice calm, almost indifferent, "your long and honorable career as a mighty warrior proves you a man of great physical courage, and you are still strong and active enough for a dangerous task." A wry smile touched the old man's lips. "Then I am expected to earn this wealth you are offering me?" "Of course. I am not noted for being a charitable man, noble Heglar." "... Are there other reasons?" "Lastly," Vokal said imperturbably, "as a nobleman you have the freedom of Jaltor's court and may come and go there as you please." He looked sharply at the older man as he finished speaking and for a long moment they stared into each other's eyes in silence. Heglar was the first to speak. "Now that you have listed my qualifications, what use do you expect to put them to?" Vokal bent forward and fixed him with his penetrating gaze. "I must call upon the first of them before this conversation can go any further. Will you give me your solemn pledge that not one word of this will go beyond the two of us?" "... Yes."