The mournful echo of sealing doors rolled through the vaulted hall, and through the haze of lamps and incense in the triangular hall burned the brighter glare of the holy
fire, the rhmei and the phusmeha of the Indume fortress. Kurt paused involuntarily as Kta did, confused by the light and the profusion of faces.
From some doorway hidden by the haze and the light from the hearthfire there appeared a woman, a shadow hi brocade flanked by the more massive figures of armed men.
The guards who had brought them from the trireme moved them forward with the urging of their spear shafts. The woman did not move. Her face was clearer as they drew near her; she was goddess-like, tall, willowy. The shining darkness of her hair was crowned with a headdress that fitted beside her face like the plates of a helm, and shimmered when she moved with the swaying of fine gold chains from the wide wings of it. She was nemet, and of incredible beauty: Ylith t’Erinas ev Tehal, Methi of Indresul.
Her dark eyes turned full on them, and Kta fell on his face before her, full length on the polished stone of the floor. Her gaze did not so much as flicker; this was the obeisance due her. Kurt fell to his knees also, and on his face, and did not look up.
“Nemet,” she said, “look at me.” Kta stirred then and sat up, but did not stand. “Your name,” she asked him. Her voice had a peculiar stillness, clear and delicate. “Methi, I am Kta t’Elas u Nym.”
“Elas. Elas of Nephane. How fares your house there, t’Elas?”
“The Methi may have heard. I am the last” “What, Elas fallen?”
“So Fate and the Methi of Nephane willed it.” “Indeed. And how is this, that a man of Indras descent is companioned by a human?” “He is of my house, Methi, and he is my friend.” “You are an offense, t’Elas, an affront to my eyes and to the pure light of heaven. Let t’Elas be given to the examination of the house he has defiled, and let their recommendation be made known to me.”
She clapped her hands. The guards moved in a clash of metal and hauled Kta up. Kurt injudiciously flung himself to his knees, halted suddenly with the point of a spear in his side. Kta looked down at him with the face of a man who knew his fate was sealed, and then yielded and went with them. Kurt flashed a glance at Ylith, anger swelling in his throat
The staff of the spear across his neck brought him half stunned to the marble floor, and he expected it to be through his back in the next instant, but the blow did not come.
“Human.” There was no love in that word. “Sit up.”
Kurt moved his arms and found purchase against the floor. He did not move quickly, and one of his guards jerked him up by the arm and let him go again.
“Do you have a name, human?”
“My name,” he answered with deliberate insolence, “is Kurt Liam t’Morgan u Patrick Edward.”
Ylith’s eyes traveled over him and fixed last on his face. “Morgan. This would be your own alien house.”
He made no response. Her tone invited none.
“Never have I looked upon a living human,” Ylith said softly. “Indeed, this seems more intelligent than the Tamurlin, is it not so, Lhe?”
“I do not believe,” said the slender man at her left, “that he is Tamurlin, Methi.”
“He is still of their blood.” A frown darkened her eyes. “It is an outrage against nature. One would take him for nemet but for that unwholesome coloration and until one saw his face. Have him stand. I would take a closer look at him.”
Kurt had both his arms seized, and he was pulled roughly and abruptly to his feet, his face hot with shame and anger. But if there was one act that would seal the doom of all Nephane, friends and enemies alike, it was for the friend of Elas-in-Nephane to attack this woman. He stubbornly turned his face away, until the flat of a spear blade against his cheek turned his head back and he met her eyes.