My wrists and ankles were bound to a hollow, floating frame. The ropes sawed into my flesh as the weight of my body drew on them. I turned my head, sick to my stomach, and threw up into the turbid waters of the Vosk. I blinked my eyes against the hot sun and tried to move my wrists and ankles.

A voice said, "He's awake."

Dimly I felt spear butts thrust against the side of the hollow frame, ready to edge it out into the current.

I cleared my head as best I could, and into my uncertain field of vision moved a dark object, which became the black helmet of a member of the Caste of Assassins. Slowly, with a stylized movement, the helmet was lifted, and I found myself staring up into a gray, lean, cruel face, a face that might have been made of metal. The eyes were inscrutable, as if they had been made of glass or stone and set artificially in that metallic mask of a countenance.

"I am Pa-Kur," said the man.

It was he, the Master Assassin of Ar, leader of the assembled horde.

"We meet again," I said.

The eyes, like glass or stone, revealed nothing.

"The cylinder at Ko-ro-ba," I said. "The crossbow."

He said nothing. '

"You failed to kill me that time," I taunted. "Perhaps you would care to risk another shot now. Perhaps the mark would be more suited to your skills."

The men behind Pa-Kur muttered at my impudence. He himself showed no impatience.

"My weapon," he said, simply extending his hand. A crossbow was immediately placed in his grip. It was a large steel bow, wound and set, the iron quarrel placed in the guide.

I prepared to welcome the bolt flashing through my body. I was curious tn know if I would be conscious of its strike. Pa-Kur raised his hand with an imperious gesture. From somewhere I saw a small, round object sailing high into the air, out over the river. It was a tarn disk hurled by one of Pa-Kur's men. Just as the tiny object, black against the blue sky, reached its apogee, I heard the click of the trigger, the vibration of the string, and the swift hiss of the quarrel. Before the tarn disk could begin its fall, the quarrel pierced it, carrying it, I would judge, some two hundred and fifty yards out into the river. The men of Pa-Kur stamped their feet in the sand and clanged their spears on their shields. ,

"I spoke as s fool," I said to Pa-Kur.

"And you will die the death of a fool," he said. He spoke with no trace of anger or emotion of any kind.

He motioned to the men to thrust the frame out into the river, where it would be swept away.

"Wait," I said, "I ask your favor." The words came hard.

Pa-Kur gestured to the men to desist.

"What have you done with the girl?"

"She is Talena, daughter of the Ubar Marlenus," said Pa-Kur. "She will rule in Ar as my queen."

"She would die first," I said.

"She has accepted me," said Pa-Kur, "and will rule by my side." The stone eyes regarded me, expressionless."It was her wish that you die the death of a villain," he said, "on the Frame of Humiliation, unworthy to stain our weapons."

book 1, pg 136 - 138

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