"There is one prize you might secure for me," Herndon said grimly.
"Name it. The cost doesn't matter."
"There is no cost," Herndon said. "I simply seek an invitation to the court of the Seigneur. You can secure this through your husband. Will you do it for me?"
"Of course," she whispered. She clung to him hungrily. "I'll speak to Moaris—tomorrow."
CHAPTER VI
At the end of the week, Herndon visited the Avenue of Bronze and learned from Bollar Benjin that sales of the starstones proceeded well, that the arrangement under royal patronage was a happy one, and that they would soon be relieved of most of their stock. It would, therefore, be necessary for him to make another trip to Vyapore during the next several weeks. He agreed, but requested an advance of two months' salary.
"I don't see why not," Benjin agreed. "You're a valuable man, and we have the money to spare."
He handed over a draft for ten thousand stellors. Herndon thanked him gravely, promised to contact him when it was time for him to make the journey to Vyapore and left.
That night he departed for Meld XVII, where he sought out the surgeon who had altered his features after his flight from sacked Zonnigog. He requested certain internal modifications. The surgeon was reluctant, saying the operation was a risky one, very difficult, and entailed a fifty per cent chance of total failure, but Herndon was stubborn.