"The next week or so passed as a bit of blur.  Lovatska and
I were being moved to somewhere else, but our captors didn't want us to
be seen by anyone.  So we both had been shoved in a box on a cart covered
with hay.  I suppose that it looked kind of amusing, a hay cart surrounded
by armed escorts.  It would here, but I had managed to work out this much
from the snippets of conversation I would hear: the Poasians are total
militants-- the military puts its hands in everything, and apparantly
up in Cthell dissidence was high, as evidenced by the friends I had made.
Therefore, the Poasians will surround just about anything with armed
guards just to make a sufficient show of force.
	"We were thrown food perhaps twice daily, to the best of my
figuring.  This food was a little more palatable, which I found somewhat
ironic, as this was prisoners' rations and before we were fed apparant
delicasies.  An acquired taste, I'm sure.  But we were given meat that 
was cured like leather and these very strange fruits.  What you did with
them was crack them open and eat the seeds, which were juicy and quite
sweet.  Those fruits helped me survive Poasia.
	"Lovatska took our confinement very well, but I guess after
staying hidden on our ship for weeks, she was capable of handling just
about anything.  By my own standards, she was quite extraordinary, but
for a Turjin woman she was beyond compare.  At least I thought so.  But
she kept me sane in the box by singing Turjin ballads.  They are quite
epic.  I've never heard them before, and she gave them a haunting, rhythmic
beauty."  Solrhat closed his eyes and began to hum the tine that only
he could hear.
	"Solrhat?" said the Magistrate, trying to regain his attention.
Solrhat stopped and looked at him with almost a sheepish grin.
	"Sorry.  I'm afraid I don't do it justice.  It was quite beautiful.
I'll bet even our guards were moved, if only a little.
	"Regardless, time passed and we moved south, out of Cthell and
into Poasia proper.  We would never stop for the night as far as I could
tell, but rather just change drafts and guards at supposedly regular 
intervals.  So we made very good time in our travel.  If for nothing else, 
you have to admire the Poasians for their efficency.
	"Eventually, we were let out of the crate, inside the antechamber
of some buidling.  It took us a moment to adjust our eyes to the light,
but once they did I saw our old friend Sojirand hovering over us.  'Where
are we?' I asked him, as if the answer would hold some meaning for me.
He looked down and said one word.
	"'Gulgathon.'
	"I guess that truly meant something, since he said it with such
a strong reverence.  The Poasian capital, as it turned out.  He had a few 
of his Sorighar lift us to our feet and carry us down a hallway.  At first 
I was annoyed by this until I realized that I was too weak and incoherant 
to successfully do it on my own.  Live in a box for ten days and you'll 
see.
	"We were brought to a well dressed man-- his clothes had a sense
of uniform, as the Sorighars' did, but it was a completely different look--
who had an air of anxiousness to him.  When we came in, his eyes simply
widened in amazement.
	"'Incredible,' he said looking at me, then Lovatska, then turning
to Sojirand, 'I thought your reports were near fanciful, but they were
almost understated!'
	"'I don't exaggerate,' was his only response.  He was a man of 
few words, and I appreciated that at least.  This new man, was not, as he 
looked back at us.
	"'Their skin, hair, even the slope of the jaw, the shape of the
eyes-- all so different!'  He leaned in close to Lovatska, 'Do you even
bleed a different color, dark one?'  I was trying to collect myself to 
say something, curse at him, but she was already on him.  Despite our 
confinement, despite being weakened, despite being held at the arms by
two men, Lovatska kicked up her feet and locked them under his arms and 
pulled his face into her forehead, then dropped him.  His nose began 
to gush with blood.
	"'No, that looks right,' she said with an incredible calm. 
Of course, her guards twisted her harder, but she wasn't resisting.  The
man got up off the floor, holding his face. 
	"'You didn't exaggerate her skill, either, Sojirand,' he said,
almost chuckling.
	"'No, Pankchamtir.'
	"'Have them cleaned up,' said the Pankchamtir with a wave of his 
hand, 'They look and smell terrible.'  I'd have to agree with him on that. 
We dragged away to other chambers, and I was seperated from Lovatska.
	"I was bathed, in that I was stripped down and thrown into some 
near-scalding water.  After I adjusted to it, though, it was the best I had
felt since I stepped foot in the miserable country.  My own clothes were
beyond all hope, so I'm sure that they were burned or such.  The waited
with surprising patience for me to finish, then brought me to a modest 
bedchamber, where clothes were laid out for me.  Black, of course.  I 
hadn't seen anyone wearing anything but black clothing here.  They left me 
to my own to dress.
	"I was beginning to feel more human.  My situation, while still
not good, seemed to at least be improving.  A servant came in with some
food-- a bowl of thick, grey paste and a plate of wafers of some sort.
I kept myself from asking just what it was, I was better off just eating
it and not knowing.  It was good enough for my needs at that time.
	"Once I finished my 'host' came in with a decanter of red liquid
and a few glasses.  He had managed to stop his bleeding and get himself
cleaned up, but his nose was a bit swollen.  He poured a glass for both
me and him and sat.  I tasted it cautiously, then realized it came from
those same fruits I had grown fond of.
	"'Enjoy the luxury while you can,' he said.  He had a tone that
managed both cordial and disdainful at the same time.  Nonetheless, he
was apparantly a man of power, and the time had come to practice some
diplomacy.
	"'Thank you, friend, for your hospitality,' I said, 'This is a 
fine room.'  He looked at me, irritated, then shook his head.
	"'I don't know where you are from, or what they do there, and I 
don't care.  I will overlook your bizarre ways, but I am not your friend.
I am Pankchamtir Molit Ova.'  He said 'Pankchamtir' like a title, like
ojirand did before, so I latched onto that.
	"'My apologies, Pankchamtir,' I said, with a small bow.  He gave
me another odd look, then passed it off.
	"'Everything you do will probably strike me as odd at least,' he
said, 'Best to just ignore it.  Here is the truth, foreigner.  You should
not exist.'  I tried to stay calm at that.
	"'And how do you figure that?' I asked.
	"'You represent exactly what we do not wish to know: people and
land beyond the waves.  The Council won't have that.'  I was extremely
confused.
	"'Won't have that?' I asked, 'What difference does it make?
What say could they have over something like that?'  He grew quite angry,
smashing his glass to the floor.  He moved in inches from my faces, dark
eyes burning.
	"'You will see,' he said, 'Tomorrow.'  And with that, he stormed
out.
	"At that point I realized that I hadn't seen the outside world in
some time, and I had no idea just what time of day it was.  I had the sense
of nighttime, though, which was the coupled by the fact that I was quite
tired.  Given the obvious opportunity, I slept."