"Why not?" I said, and touched her glass with mine. "To you, Elonie." "To you, Yandro, my dear lord!" * * * * * The wine was galvanizingly strong. I felt my ears ring a little, and--why not admit it?--Elonie's nearness and adulation were wine in themselves. She leaned toward me on the divan, so that our bare shoulders touched. Her lips, full and trembling, were very close. "Yandro," she whispered. "Yandro ... you could make me happy, and yourself happy, too...." Suddenly I shook my head a little, to clear it. For her eyes, a moment ago so fascinating, suddenly made me uneasy. It was as if claws had reached from their brightness and fastened upon me. She steadfastly fixed my gaze with hers. "Yandro...." Her voice was soft, monotonous. "All is well with you ... trust us, trust me, Elonie ... I shall guide you to victory, you need have no qualms...." Her arm stole across my chest, curved around my neck. She drew my head toward hers. Her brilliant eyes seemed to fill the whole field of my vision, impelling, hypnotic-- _Hypnotic--that was it!_ The strange half-lost thoughts from my unknown former life sized the idea and held it up to me. Danger, danger, they were crying at me. Most ungallantly I took her wrist and disengaged myself from her embrace. "Since I am destined for war, is there time for this?" I asked, trying to laugh. "Is there not?" she murmured. I rose from where I sat, and sipped more wine. Where it had fuddled me before, it cleared me now. "Elonie, you are charming. I do not know whether I have standards by which to judge, but you do things to men. Perhaps I should have time to make up my own mind." "If I have offended--" she began to stammer. "Oh, not in the least. But there is so much for me to be sure of." She, too, rose, and left me without a word. Had I made her angry? Yet her last words had been of apology. I sat down again, alone and mystified. But I did not remain alone for more than two minutes. Outside the niche, Elonie was talking to Gederr. Gederr scowled, nodded, then with an air of inspiration beckoned to Doriza. Doriza joined them, listened respectfully to Gederr. Finally she nodded, as if in acceptance of orders, and walked toward me. I rose to meet her. She looked me steadily in the eye, but when she spoke it was hesitantly, and with a shyness most womanly, too womanly for a military person. "Great Yandro is not pleased with Elonie of the Council. Is it possible that he would prefer another woman--me?" Just like that, she offered herself. And if ever I had made up my mind in a hurry, it had been to the effect that Doriza was nothing but reserve and prudence. What answer I might be able to give was suddenly unnecessary. Just outside the niche angry voices rose. An officer, all fair beard and flapping cloak, was accosting Gederr with something less than the respect due a member of the Council.