Black sorrow and the bitter ashes were in my heart when I turned from the window. I looked at Lur. From long slim feet to shining head I looked at her, and the black sorrow lightened and the bitter ashes blew away.

I put my hands on her shoulders and laughed. Luka had spun her wheel and sent my empire flying off its rim like dust from the potter’s. But she had left me something. In all old Ayjirland there had been few women like this.

Praise Luka! A sacrifice to her next morning if this woman proves what I think her!

My vanished empire! What of it? I would build another. Enough that I was alive!

Again I laughed. I put my hand under Lur’s chin, raised her face to mine, set my lips against hers. She thrust me from her. There was anger in her eyes — but there was doubt under the anger.

“You bade me remember. Well, I have remembered. Why did you open the gates of memory. Witch-woman, unless you had made up your mind to abide by what came forth? Or did you know less of Dwayanu than you pretended?”

She took a step back; she said, furiously:

“I give my kisses. None takes them.”

I caught her in my arms, crushed her mouth to mine, then released her.

“I take them.”

I struck down at her right wrist. There was a dagger in her hand. I was amused, wondering where she had hidden it. I wrenched it from her grip and slipped it m my girdle.

“And draw the stings from those I kiss. Thus did Dwayanu in the days of old and thus he does today.”

She stepped back and back, eyes dilated. Ai! but I could read her! She had thought me other than I was, thought me hare-brain, imposter, trickster. And it had been in her mind to trick me, to bend me to her will. To beguile me. Me — Dwayanu, who knew women as I knew war! And yet —

She was very beautiful . . . and she was all I had in this alien land to begin the building of my rule. I summed her up as she stood staring at me. I spoke, and my words were as cold as my thoughts.

“Play no more with daggers — nor with me. Call your servants. I am hungry and I thirst. When I have eaten and drunk we will talk.”

She hesitated, then clapped her hands. Women came in with steaming dishes, with ewers of wine, with fruits. I ate ravenously. I drank deeply. I ate and drank, thinking little of Lur — but thinking much of what her sorcery had made me see, drawing together what I remembered from desert oasis until now. It was little enough. I ate and drank silently. I felt her eyes upon me. I looked into them and smiled. “You thought to make me slave to your will, Lur. Never think it again!”

She dropped her head between her hands and gazed at me across the table.

“Dwayanu died long and long ago. Can the leaf that has withered grow green?”

“I am he, Lur.”

She did not answer.

“What was in your thought when you brought me here, Lur?”

“I am weary of Tibur, weary of his laughter, weary of his stupidity.”

“What else?”

“I tire of Yodin. You and I— alone — could rule Karak, if —”

“That ‘if is the heart of it. Witch-woman. What is it?”

She arose, leaned toward me.

“If you can summon Khalk’ru!”

“And if I cannot?”

She shrugged her white shoulders, dropped back into her chair. I laughed.

“In which case Tibur will not be so wearisome, and Yodin may be tolerated. Now listen to me, Lur. Was it your voice I heard urging me to enter Khalk’ru’s temples? Did you see as I was seeing? You need not answer. I read you, Lur. You would be rid of Tibur. Well, perhaps I can kill him. You would be rid of Yodin. Well, no matter who I am, if I can summon the Greater-than-Gods, there is no need of Yodin. Tibur and Yodin gone, there would be only you and me. You think you could rule me. You could not, Lur.”

She had listened quietly, and quietly now she answered.

“All that is true —”

She hesitated; her eyes glowed; a rosy flush swept over bosom and cheeks.

“Yet — there might be another reason why I took you —”

I did not ask her what that other reason might be; women had tried to snare me with that ruse before. Her gaze dropped from me, the cruelty on the red mouth stood out for an instant, naked.

“What did you promise Yodin, Witch-woman?”

She arose, held out her arms to me, her voice trembled —

“Are you less than man — that you can speak to me so! Have I not offered you power, to share with me? Am I not beautiful — am I not desirable?”

“Very beautiful, very desirable. But always I learned the traps my city concealed before I took it.”

Her eyes shot blue fires at that. She took a swift step toward the door. I was swifter. I held her, caught the hand she raised to strike me.

“What did you promise the High-priest, Lur?”

I put the point of the dagger at her throat. Her eyes blazed at me, unafraid. Luka — turn your wheel so I need not slay this woman!

Her straining body relaxed; she laughed.

“Put away the dagger, I will tell you.”

I released her, and walked back to my chair. She studied me from her place across the table; she said, half incredulously:

“You would have killed me!”

“Yes,” I told her.

“I believe you. Whoever you may be. Yellow-hair — there is no man like you here.”

“Whoever I may be — Witch?”

She stirred impatiently.

“No further need for pretence between us.” There was anger in her voice. “I am done with lies — better for both if you be done with them too. Whoever you are — you are not Dwayanu. I say again that the withered leaf cannot turn green nor the dead return.”

“If I am not he, then whence came those memories you watched with me not long ago? Did they pass from your mind to mine. Witch-woman — or from my mind to yours?”

She shook her head, and again I saw a furtive doubt cloud her eyes.

“I saw nothing. I meant you to see — something. You eluded me. Whatever it was you saw — I had no part in it. Nor could I bend you to my will. I saw nothing.”

“I saw the ancient land, Lur.”

She said, sullenly:

“I could go no farther than its portal.”

“What was it you sent me into Ayjirland to find for Yodin, Witch-woman?”

“Khalk’ru,” she answered evenly.

“And why?”

“Because then I would have known surely, beyond all doubt, whether you could summon him. That was what I promised Yodin to discover.”

“And if I could summon him?”

“Then you were to be slain before you had opportunity.”

“And if I could not?”

“Then you would be offered to him in the temple.”

“By Zarda!” I swore. “Dwayanu’s welcome is not like what he had of old when he went visiting — or, if you prefer it, the hospitality you offer a stranger is no thing to encourage travellers. Now do I see eye to eye with you in this matter of eliminating Tibur and the priest. But why should I not begin with you. Witch?”

She leaned back, smiling.

“First — because it would do you no good. Yellow-hair. Look.”

She beckoned me to one of the windows. From it I could see the causeway and the smooth hill upon which we had emerged from the forest. There were soldiers all along the causeway and the top of the hill held a company of them. I felt that she was quite right — even I could not get through them unscathed. The old cold rage began to rise within me. She watched me, with mockery in her eyes.

“And second —” she said. “And second — well, hear me. Yellow-hair.”

I poured wine, raised the goblet to her, and drank. She said:

“Life is pleasant in this land. Pleasant at least for those of us who role it. I have no desire to change it — except in the matter of Tibur and Yodin. And another matter of which we can talk later. I know the world has altered since long and long ago our ancestors fled from Ayjirland. I know there is life outside this sheltered place to which Khalk’ru led those ancestors. Yodin and Tibur know it, and some few more. Others guess it. But none of us desi............