The Asutra by Jack Vance

the most subtle changes in the succession; and meanwhile the music became even more intense and compelling, and the dancers swirled, jerked arms, kicked, and stamped in the firelight. . . . Etzwane began to wonder when the music would stop, and how. The others would know the signal; they would try to catch him napping, so that when he played on alone he would seem ridiculous: an ancient prank to work upon the stranger. All would know when the tune should end; there would be a side-glance, a raised elbow, a hiss, a shift of position. . . . The signal came; Etzwane felt its presence. As he had expected, the music stopped short; he instantly broke into a variation in a different mode, a pulsing statement even more compelling than the first theme, and presently the musicians, some grinning, some with wry winces, again joined the music. . . . Etzwane laughed and bent over the instrument, which now had become familiar, and began to produce runs and trills. . . . The music at last halted. The girl came to sit beside Etzwane and proffered the flask of spirit. Etzwane drank and, putting' down the flask, asked, "What is your name?"
    "I am Rune the Willow Wand, of the Pelican fetish. Who are you?"
    "My name is Gastel Etzwane. In Shant we do not reckon our clans or fetishes, only our canton. And, as it used to be, the colors of our torc, which now we wear no more."
    In different lands are different customs," agreed the girl. "Sometimes it is puzzling. Over the Orgai and along the Botgarsk River live the Shada, who cut off a girl's ears if she so much as speaks to a man. Is this the custom of Shant?"
    "Not at all," said Etzwane. "Among the Alula are you allowed to speak to strangers?"
    "Yes, indeed; we obey our own inclinations in such matters; and why should we not? " She tilted her head and gave Etzwane a candid inspection. "You are of a race thinner and keener than ours. You have what we call the aersk [8] look."
    Etzwane was not displeased by the flattery. The girl apparently was somewhat wayward and wanted to enlarge her horizons by flirting with a strange young man. Etzwane, though of a wary disposition, was not unwilling to oblige her. He asked, "The musician yonder: he is not your betrothed?"
    "Galgar the Wisk-weasel? Do I seem the sort who would consort with a man like Galgar?"
    "Of course not. I notice also that he keeps poor time in his music, which indicates a deficient personality."
    "You are amazingly perceptive," said Rune the Willow Wand. She moved closer; Etzwane smelled the tree-balsam she used as a scent. She spoke in a soft voice, "Do you like my cap?"
    "Yes, of course," said Etzwane, puzzled by the lack of sequence in the girl's remarks. "Although it seems about to fall off your head."
    Ifness had come to sit by the fire. He now raised an admonitory finger, and Etzwane went to learn his requirements. "A word of caution," said Ifness.
    "Unnecessary. I am more than cautious; I look in all directions at once."
    "Just so, just so. Remember that in the Alula camp we are subject to their laws. Fabrache tells me that the Alula women can assert a marital connection with some simplicity. Do you notice how certain of the maidens wear their caps askew? If a man removes the cap or so much as sets it straight, he is held to have disarranged her intimate apparel, and if she raises an outcry, the two must marry."
    Etzwane looked through the dying firelight toward Rune the Willow Wand. "The caps are precariously placed. . . . An interesting custom. " He slowly went to rejoin the girl. She asked, "What has that peculiar person been telling you?"
    Etzwane cast about for a reply. "He noticed my interest in you; he warned me not to compromise myself or offend you by touching your garments. " Rune the Willow Wand smiled and cast a contemptuous glance toward Ifness. "What an old prig! But he need not fear! My three best friends have arranged to meet their lovers near the river and I agreed to walk with them, although I have no lover and