"Good. I shall get word to you."
Katha sighed when Zarman was out of sight.
Tyr asked dryly as they walked, "Why did you not shoot me? You had your gun out."
"That was for the guards—in case your fists were not enough."
"But you are an ardth!"
The girl sighed and said, "It is such a nice moon. And we are almost at my rooms."
She laughed softly, and Tyr wondered why.
III
Tyr had never seen such sybaritic luxury as was revealed when he let the goldthread drapes rustle across the arched doorway behind him. Strewn cushions, plump and fat, with red-and-white worked in thin curves across their surfaces; the blue tinted walls that radiated warmth; the richly toned murals and the hidden lights bespoke limitless wealth. Low bookcases crammed the walls. Perfume pervaded the cool air. It was a feminine scent, cloying, lingering.