quickly intervened.
Jorjol at last resigned himself to the circumstance and began to exhibit a new set of moods: mocking, self-pitying, sentimental, as surroundings called to mind this or that incident of his childhood. Schaine began to feel a nervous embarrassment; Jorjol was so clearly striking poses. She wanted to tease him and perhaps deflate him a bit, but in doing so she might wound him and perhaps provoke a new and more passionate drama. So she held her tongue. Elvo Glissam, wearing a bland expression, kept the conversation almost foolishly impersonal and elicited glares of contempt from Jorjol.
Meanwhile Schaine had been wondering how to announce that lunch was not to be served in the Great Hall. The problem solved itself; as they returned around the house, the buffet table on the eastern lawn was plain to see, and Kelse stood nearby, in conversation not only with Kurgech but with Julio Tanch the head stockman. Both Julio and Kurgech wore Outker garments: twill trousers, boots and a loose white shirt; neither had oiled his skin.
Jorjol stopped short, staring at the three men. Slowly he moved forward. Kelse raised his hand in a polite salute. “Jorjol, you’ll remember Kurgech and Julio.”
Jorjol gave a curt nod of recognition. “I remember both well. Much water has flowed down Chip-chap River since last we met.” He drew himself to his full height. “Changes have occurred. There are more to come.”
Kelse’s eyes glittered. “We’re going to stop assassinations from the Retent. That’s one change. You might find the Retent gone and Treaty Lands all along the Alouan. That’s another.”
Schaine cried out, “Please, let’s all eat our lunch.”
Jorjol stood rigid. “I do not care to eat out in the open like a servant. I prefer to take my meal in the Great Hall.”
“I’m afraid that this is impossible,” said Kelse politely. “None of us are dressed for the occasion.”
Schaine laid her hand on Jorjol’s arm. “Muffin, please don’t be difficult. None of us are servants; we’re eating outside by preference.”
“This is not the point! I am a man of character and reputation; I am as good as any Outker, and I wish to be treated with dignity!”
Kelse replied in a neutral voice: “When you come here in Outker costume, when you show respect for our institutions and our sensibilities, the situation might change.”
“Aha, well then—what of Kurgech and Julio? They meet these standards; take them into the Great Hall and feed them and I will eat alone out here.”
“At an appropriate occasion, this might occur, but not today.”
“In that case,” said Jorjol, “I find that I cannot take lunch with you, and I will now be away and about my business.”
“As you wish.”
Schaine walked with Jorjol to the Hermes. She spoke in a subdued voice: “I’m sorry things turned out so badly. But really, Jorjol, you need not have been so irascible.”
“Bah! Kelse is an ingrate and a fool. Does he think his great army can frighten me? He will learn one day how things go!” He seized her shoulders. “You are my sweet Schaine. Come with me now! Jump into the sky-boat and we’ll leave them all behind.”
“Muffin, don’t be silly. I wouldn’t dream of such a thing.”
“One time you did!”
“Long long ago.” She drew back as Jorjol attempted to kiss her. “Muffin, please stop.”
Jorjol stood stiff with emotion, gripping her shoulders so tightly that she cringed in pain. A sound: Jorjol looked wildly toward the house, to see Kurgech sauntering forward, apparently lost in thought. Schaine jerked herself free.
Jorjol jumped into the Hermes like a man bereft and shot off into the sky. Schaine and Kurgech watched the aircraft disappear into the west. Schaine turned and looked up into the seamed gray face. “What has come over Jorjol? He’s become so wild, so outrageous!” Even as she spoke she recollected that Jorjol had always been wild and outrageous.
Kurgech said: “He