The marketplace had cleared somewhat; a crowd had gathered at the opposite end, where some sort of jewel auction was going on, but as Herndon looked around he saw he had a clear path over the cobbled square to the quay beyond.
He walked a few steps away from the auctioneer's booth. The auctioneer was getting ready for the next segment of his sale, and Herndon caught a glimpse of three frightened-looking naked Villidon girls behind the curtain being readied for display.
He stared seaward. Two hundred yards away was the quay, rimmed by the low sea-wall, and beyond it was the bright green expanse of the Shining Ocean. For an instant his eyes roved beyond the ocean even, to the far continent of Zonnigog where he had been born. Then he looked at the terrified little proteus, halfway through yet another change of shape.
Nine hundred thirty-five stellors, altogether, for this proteus. Herndon scowled bitterly. It was a tremendous sum of money, far more than he could easily have afforded to throw away in one morning—particularly his first day back on Borlaam after his sojourn on the outplanets.
But there had been no help for it. He had allowed himself to be drawn into a situation, and he refused to back off halfway. Not any more, he said to himself, thinking of the burned and gutted Zonnigog village plundered by the gay looters of Seigneur Krellig's army.
"Walk toward the sea-wall," he ordered the proteus.
A half-formed mouth said blurredly, "M-master?"
"You understand me, don't you? Then walk toward the sea-wall. Keep going and don't turn around."
He waited. The proteus formed feet and moved off in an uncertain shuffle over the well-worn cobbles. Nine hundred thirty-five stellors, he thought bitterly.