entered the room, carrying a small turquoise music-sphere cradled in both her hands. She took four paces and halted, obviously surprised that Elegro was entertaining visitors.
She made a nod of apology and said, "I will return later."
"Stay," said the Rememberer. To myself and the Prince he said, "My wife. The Rememberer Olmayne." To his wife he said, "These are travelers newly come from Roum. They have delivered Basil's shawl. The Watcher now asks apprenticeship in our guild. What do you advise?"
The Rememberer Olmayne's white brow furrowed. She put down her music-sphere in a dark crystal vase; the sphere was unintentionally activated as she did so, and it offered us a dozen shimmering notes before she switched it off. Then she contemplated us, and I her. She was notably younger than her husband, who was of middle years, while she seemed to be hardly past first bloom. Yet there was a strength about her that argued for greater maturity. Perhaps, I thought, she had been to Jorslem to renew her youth; but in that case it was odd that her husband had not done the same, unless he prized his look of age. She was surely attractive. Her face was broad, with a high forehead, pronounced cheekbones, a wide, sensual mouth, a jutting chin. Her hair was lustrous black, contrasting most vividly with the strange pallor of her skin. Such white skin is a rarity among us, though now I know that it was more common in ancient times, when the breed was different. Avluela, my lovely little Flier, had displayed that same combination of black and white, but there the resemblance ended, for Avluela was all fragility,
and the Rememberer Olmayne was strength itself. Below her long slender neck her body blossomed into well-set shoulders, high breasts, firm legs. Her posture was regal.
She studied us at length, until I could scarcely meet the level gaze of her widely spaced dark eyes. Ultimately she said, "Does the Watcher regard himself as qualified to become one of us?"
The question appeared aimed at anyone in the chamber who cared to reply. I hesitated; Elegro did likewise; and at length it was the Prince of Roum who replied in his voice of command, 'The Watcher is qualified to enter your guild/'
"And who are you?" Olmayne demanded.
Instantly the Prince adopted a more accommodating tone. "A miserable blind Pilgrim, milady, who has wandered here on foot from Roum, in this man's company. If I am any judge, you could do worse than admit him as an apprentice."
Elegro said, "And yourself? What plans have you?"
"I wish only refuge here," said the Prince. "I am tired of roaming and there is much thinking I must do. Perhaps you could allow me to carry out small tasks here. I would not want to be separated from my companion."
To me Olmayne said, "We will confer on your case. If there is approval, you will be given the tests. I will be your sponsor."
"Olmayne!" blurted Elegro in unmistakable amazement.
She smiled serenely at us all.
A family quarrel appeared on the verge; but it was averted, and the Rememberers offered us hospitality, juices, sharper beverages, a night's lodging. We dined apart from them in one section of their suite, while other Rememberers were summoned to consider my irregular application. The Prince seemed in strange agitation; he bolted down his food, spilled a flask of wine, fumbled with his eating utensils, put his fingers again and again to his gray metallic eyeballs as though trying to scratch an itch upon the lobes of his brain.
At length he said in a low, urgent voice, "Describe her to me!"
I did so, in detail, coloring and shading my words to draw him the most vivid picture I could,
"She is beautiful, you say?"
"I believe so. You know that at my age one must work from abstract notions, not from the flow of the glands."
"Her voice arouses me," said the Prince. "She has power. She is queenly. She must be beautiful; there'd be no justice if her body failed to match the voice."
"She is," I said heavily, "another
She made a nod of apology and said, "I will return later."
"Stay," said the Rememberer. To myself and the Prince he said, "My wife. The Rememberer Olmayne." To his wife he said, "These are travelers newly come from Roum. They have delivered Basil's shawl. The Watcher now asks apprenticeship in our guild. What do you advise?"
The Rememberer Olmayne's white brow furrowed. She put down her music-sphere in a dark crystal vase; the sphere was unintentionally activated as she did so, and it offered us a dozen shimmering notes before she switched it off. Then she contemplated us, and I her. She was notably younger than her husband, who was of middle years, while she seemed to be hardly past first bloom. Yet there was a strength about her that argued for greater maturity. Perhaps, I thought, she had been to Jorslem to renew her youth; but in that case it was odd that her husband had not done the same, unless he prized his look of age. She was surely attractive. Her face was broad, with a high forehead, pronounced cheekbones, a wide, sensual mouth, a jutting chin. Her hair was lustrous black, contrasting most vividly with the strange pallor of her skin. Such white skin is a rarity among us, though now I know that it was more common in ancient times, when the breed was different. Avluela, my lovely little Flier, had displayed that same combination of black and white, but there the resemblance ended, for Avluela was all fragility,
and the Rememberer Olmayne was strength itself. Below her long slender neck her body blossomed into well-set shoulders, high breasts, firm legs. Her posture was regal.
She studied us at length, until I could scarcely meet the level gaze of her widely spaced dark eyes. Ultimately she said, "Does the Watcher regard himself as qualified to become one of us?"
The question appeared aimed at anyone in the chamber who cared to reply. I hesitated; Elegro did likewise; and at length it was the Prince of Roum who replied in his voice of command, 'The Watcher is qualified to enter your guild/'
"And who are you?" Olmayne demanded.
Instantly the Prince adopted a more accommodating tone. "A miserable blind Pilgrim, milady, who has wandered here on foot from Roum, in this man's company. If I am any judge, you could do worse than admit him as an apprentice."
Elegro said, "And yourself? What plans have you?"
"I wish only refuge here," said the Prince. "I am tired of roaming and there is much thinking I must do. Perhaps you could allow me to carry out small tasks here. I would not want to be separated from my companion."
To me Olmayne said, "We will confer on your case. If there is approval, you will be given the tests. I will be your sponsor."
"Olmayne!" blurted Elegro in unmistakable amazement.
She smiled serenely at us all.
A family quarrel appeared on the verge; but it was averted, and the Rememberers offered us hospitality, juices, sharper beverages, a night's lodging. We dined apart from them in one section of their suite, while other Rememberers were summoned to consider my irregular application. The Prince seemed in strange agitation; he bolted down his food, spilled a flask of wine, fumbled with his eating utensils, put his fingers again and again to his gray metallic eyeballs as though trying to scratch an itch upon the lobes of his brain.
At length he said in a low, urgent voice, "Describe her to me!"
I did so, in detail, coloring and shading my words to draw him the most vivid picture I could,
"She is beautiful, you say?"
"I believe so. You know that at my age one must work from abstract notions, not from the flow of the glands."
"Her voice arouses me," said the Prince. "She has power. She is queenly. She must be beautiful; there'd be no justice if her body failed to match the voice."
"She is," I said heavily, "another
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