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was full that night. Men in their long evening kilts and women in masks crowded around the gambling tables, the bars and the grudge-stages. There was a large crowd around the platform on which two dealers in wheat were slugging it out to work off resentment arising from business disputes. But by far the greatest number had gathered to watch a husband-and-wife match. His left hand had been tied to his side, and she had been armed with a club. Thus equalized, they'd been given the word to go to it. So far the man had had the worst of the match, as bloody patches on his head and bruises on his arm showed. If he could get the club away from her he had the right to do what he wanted to her. But if she could break his free arm she had him at her complete mercy.
Green avoided the stage, because such barbarous doings made him sick. Looking for Miran, he finally found him rolling a pair of six-sided dice with another captain, This fellow wore the red turban and black robes of the Clan Axucan. He had just lost to Miran and was paying him sixty iquogr, a goodly sum even for a merchant-prince.
Miran took Green's arm, something he'd never have done outside the House, and led him off to a curtained booth where they could get as much privacy as they wished. He matched Green for drinks; Green lost, and Miran ordered a large pitcher of Chalousma.
"Nothing but the best for yours truly-- whenever someone else is paying," Miran said jovially. "Now, I'm a great one for fun, but I'm here primarily for business. So-- let's have your proposal at once, if you please,"
"First I must have your solemn oath that you will tell absolutely no one what you hear in this booth. Second, that if you reject my idea you do not then use it later on. Third, that if you do accept you will never attempt later on to kill me or get rid of me and thus reap the profits."
Miran's face had been blank, but at the word "profits" it twisted into many folds and creases, all expressive of joy.
He reached into the huge purse
