“A great city, a busy city, a city where for ten days I shall eat well, talk intelligently—and not hear the name Ugunenapsa spoken at all. Almost unbelievable.” She laid the small container down on the dock next to her feet and looked around at the gaping fargi. One stood quite close with her mouth almost closed and with what might be a flicker of intelligence in her eyes.

“Do you understand/comprehend?” Ambalasei said, slowly and clearly.

The fargi raised her hand and signed understanding with colors alone, then added verbal modifiers. “Comprehension and seeking of guidance.”

“That you shall have. Pick this up. Follow me.” She had to repeat this twice before the fargi signed colors of understanding and hurried forward.

Ambalasei, with the fargi trailing happily behind, strolled along the wide street, greatly enjoyed the bustle of the city. She came to a slow-moving line of fargi each carrying a bloody slab of fresh meat. She turned to follow them, clacking her jaws with pleasure, suddenly realizing how monotonous the constant diet of eel had become. Cool, jellied meat: fresh, stillwarm meat!

The street widened into a large eating area. She passed the interesting display of fish, later perhaps, and moved on to the shaded vats where the fresh meat was curing. She lifted the cover on the first and took out the leg of a small animal, admired it for a moment—then bit out a large and juicy mouthful.

“Attention to speaking,” a harsh voice said, and Ambalasei looked up chewing contentedly. The Yilanè before her had fat wattles on her neck; the hanging flesh on her arms was painted in patterns of elaborate coils. “Put down that meat, I do not know you old one. This is reserved for the eistaa.”

Beside Ambalasei the fargi with her container began to shake with fright at the threat-in-speaking that she heard. Ambalasei signed her to remain easy, protection of superior, nothing to fear. She chewed slowly, savoring the sweet meat, shaped her limbs into commands from highest to lowest, swallowed—then hissed with anger.

“Fat gilded-beetle to be crushed! Decayed worm from lowest dungpit! Before you stands Ambalasei highest of the high, eistaa of science, intelligence of the world, possessor of infinite powers. I should sentence you to death for your ill-speaking. I consider that now.”

So powerful were her movements, so strong her will and her contempt that fargi screamed and fled on all sides, the fargi next to her stood with eyes closed, moaning and shaking. The pudgy Yilanè stepped back, gasping, the colors of her skin fading before the onslaught. She could not talk, could barely think. Ambalasei was very pleased with herself and took another bite of meat, chewed and swallowed before she spoke again.

“Approval of your fearful respect,” she signed. “Magnanimity in greatness, insult forgotten. Your name?”

“Muruspe . . .” the terrified creature finally gasped.

“Tell me Muruspe, who is the eistaa of this great city that has such fine meat?”