Only then did he speak--coldly, with all the menace he could muster: "Come out--or I'll kill you!" The whisper of a quick-drawn breath broke through the stillness, then died again in utter silence. Jarl poised; drew back his knife. "All right, then, curse you--!" Clothing rustled. A voice choked, "Wait, Jarl Corvett--! I'm coming...." A strangely familiar voice.... Again there was the rustling. A head moved into view from beneath the bunk, already turning ... a woman's head, crowned with a nimbus of golden hair. It was Ylana. CHAPTER IV A dragging eternity of silence echoed in the tiny cabin. Jarl's knife-hand fell. He groped for words that would not come. Coolly, the girl slid out from under the bunk and, supplely graceful, rose to her feet. Ignoring Jarl, she straightened the sleekly-styled blue Federation tunic that accented rather than concealed the smooth curves of her slim young body. When she looked up, her grey eyes were mocking, half-disdainful. "What, raider? Have you never seen a woman, that you must stare so at me?" "You--? A woman?" Jarl spat. "Your own sex would disown you! You're more mad _ban_ than human!" He clenched his fist. "By H'sana's virgins. I should kill you!" Ylana tossed her head--uncringing, defiant. The golden hair rippled. "Is that your raider's way, then? To kill the one who gives you life?" "Who gives me life--?" Jarl cursed. He touched his lacerated face. "You've given me scars only!" "Is your beauty such that wounds will mar it?" The girl's lips twisted scornfully. "I thought you'd find my _skrii_ worth a few cuts, a little pain, if it would buy you back your freedom." "The _skrii_--? The knife?" Jarl choked. "You mean--it was you who gave it, not the _Malya_--?" "Who else?" she shrugged, and her contempt bit like the telonium blade's own razor edge. "Did you think I'd shame myself, beating a prisoner before my father's men, without reason?" Jarl rocked. "But why--?" Once more, Ylana's slim shoulders lifted. She smoothed her hair, with elaborate deliberation. "You were too closely guarded for me to reach you in your cell. But it came to me that if I made a show of hate, I could trick my father into bringing you to the great hall so I could confront you before all, at the banquet. The beating--it was the only way I could devise to pass the _skrii_ on to you." Jarl studied her. But her eyes were clear, her smooth face guileless. The shadow of a smile played about her mouth. He frowned and gestured helplessly. "Does not even a woman need some reason....?" "I had a reason," she said, and of a sudden she was no longer smiling. "I had so great a reason...." Abruptly, half-turning, she broke off. Her eyes left Jarl's, and he saw that her hands had tightened to white-knuckled fists. Her breasts rose and fell too fast beneath the tunic. He waited, not speaking.