They entered a hall evidently used for meals and other gatherings. From the smell of the flambeaux on the stone walls, Yorgh judged that the Raydowers traded with the Sea People for fish oil.
Then he looked at the woman sitting in the big, carved chair on the dais along one wall. She was attended by several men, armed, and a few women who were very obviously chosen for being less beautiful.
She was dark of hair and eye, and bore a certain resemblance to Ueln. Yorgh thought she must be a year or two older than himself. Then, as he was led closer, he saw that it was more likely five.
Jayn swept Vaneen up and down with a cold glance, but let her frank stare linger on Yorgh's broad shoulders and golden beard. Ueln fidgeted impatiently.
"Is this what you were sent to get?" Jayn asked him.
Her voice was not as musical as Vaneen's, Yorgh reflected, but it had a husky undertone that promised much. He saw that she took great care with her person, as befitted her position. Her long robe was dark and cleverly sewn to boast of every curve of her handsome body. It was belted at the waist by a girdle of the polished, light-blue stones for which the mountain people were famous. Yorgh wondered if her lips were naturally as red as they appeared.
Ueln had been explaining why he had not liked to leave behind two who might talk, especially as one was a hunter who could have trailed him. Jayn shrugged.
"I will decide how well you have done, Ueln, when we have counted the wollies. As for this pair, I am not entirely displeased."
She rose and walked across the dais to look down on them. Following her glance, Yorgh saw that the blue dress which had looked so well on Vaneen two nights ago was much the worse for rough treatment. Jayn stared contemptuously at the rents in it.