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stand under a general warrant.”
    “Who robbed you?” I asked the man.
    “I think there were two,” said the man. “There was a dark-haired she-urt in a brown tunic. I was struck from behind. Apparently there is a male confederate.”
    “She approached you, engaging your attention,” I asked, “and then you, when diverted, were struck from behind?”
    “Yes,” said the fellow, sourly.
    “I saw two individuals, who may be your friends,” I said, “on the north walkway of the Rim canal, leading to the vicinity of this very pier.”
    “We shall send two guardsmen to investigate,” said the praetor. “Thank you, Citizen, for this information.”
    “They will be gone now,” said the man with the blood behind his ear.
    “Perhaps not,” I said.
    The praetor dispatched a pair of guardsmen, who moved swiftly toward the Rim canal.
    “Be on the watch for an escaped female slave,” repeated the guardsman with the paper. He spoke loudly, calling out, over the crowd. I heard him adding to the available information. New data had been furnished to him from a wharf runner, who had her sales information in hand, brought from the records of the house of Vart. This included, however, little more than her measurements and the sizes of the collar, and wrist and ankle rings that would well fit her.
    I went over to the edge of the pier, some hundred yards or so away, to where the Palms of Schendi, was moored. Longshoremen, bales and crates on their shoulders, were filling her hold. They were being supervised by the second officer. It was now grayishly light, a few Ehn past dawn. I could not yet see the golden rim of Tor-tu-Gor, Light Upon the Home Stone, rising in the east over the city.
    “Are you bound for Schendi?” I called to the officer.
    “Yes,” said he, looking up from his lading list.
    “I would take passage with you,” I said.
    “We do not carry passengers,” said he.
    “I can pay as much as a silver tarsk,” I said. It did not seem well to suggest that I could afford more. If worse came to worse I could book passage on another vessel. It would not be wise to hire a ship, for this would surely provoke suspicion. Similarly, it would not be wise to take one of my own ships, say, the Dorna or the Tesephone, south. They might be recognized. Gorean seamen recognize ships with the same ease that they recognize faces. This is common, of course, among seamen anywhere.
    “We do not carry passengers,” said the second officer.
    I shrugged, and turned away. I would prefer, of course, to have passage on this ship, for it would be on this ship that the girl, when apprehended, would be transported. I did not wish to risk losing track of her.
    I looked up to the stern castle of’ the Palms of Schendi. There I saw her captain, Ulafi, engaged in conversation with one whom I took to be the first officer. They did not look at me.
    I stood there for a few moments, regarding the lines of the Palms of Schendi. She was a medium-class round ship, with a keel-to-beam ratio of about six to one; that of the long ship is usually about eight to one. She had ten oars to a side, two rudders, and two, permanent, lateen-rigged masts. Most Gorean ships were double ruddered. The masts of round ships are usually permanently fixed; those of long ships, usually single-masted, are removed before battle; most Gorean ships are lateen-rigged; this permits sailing closer to the wind. The long, triangular sail, incidentally, is very beautiful.
    I turned away from the ship. I did not wish to be observed looking at it too closely. I wore the garb of the metal workers.
    According to the tide tables the first tide would be full at six Ehn past the seventh Ahn.
    I wondered if Ulafi would sail without the blond-haired barbarian. I did not think so. I hoped that he had not put out a silver tarsk for her simply because she had struck his fancy. That would indeed be infuriating. I was certain that he would wait until she was regained. If he missed the