“You are right,” she said. “I will do it.”
When Tanar completed, his work upon her, Stellara had been transformed into a bearded Korsar, but the best that he could do in the way of disguise failed to entirely hide the contours of her hips and breasts.
“I am afraid they will suspect,” he said. “Your figure is too feminine for shorts and a shirt to hide it.”
“Wait,” exclaimed Stellara. “Sometimes the sailors, when they are going on long voyages, wear cloaks, which they use to sleep in if the nights are cool. Let us see if we can find such a one here.”
“Yes, I saw one,” replied Tanar, and crossing the room he returned with a cloak made of wide striped goods. “That will give you greater height,” he said. But when they draped it about her, her hips were still too much in evidence.
“Build out my shoulders,” suggested Stellara, and with scarfs and handkerchiefs the Sarian built the girl’s shoulders out so that the cloak hung straight and she resembled a short, stocky man, more than a slender, well-formed girl.
“Now we are ready,” said the Sarian. Stellara pointed to the body of Bulf.
“We cannot leave that lying there,” she said. “Someone may come to this room and discover it and when they do every man in the palace—yes, even in the entire city—will be arrested and questioned.”
Tanar looked about the room and then he seized the corpse of Bulf and dragged it into a far corner, after which he piled bundles of hides and baskets upon it until it was entirely concealed, and over the blood stains upon the floor he dragged other bales and baskets until all signs of the duel had been erased or hidden.
“And now,” he said, “is as good a time as another to put our disguises to the test.” Together they approached the door. “You know the least frequented passages to the garden,” said Tanar. “Let us make our way from the palace through the garden to the gate that gave us escape before.”