“The poor soul looks harmless enough.”

“Yes, she does—­but the poor soul is quite capable of swallowing up Krag himself....  Now, play the man.”

The murmur of their voices seemed to attract Tydomin’s notice, for she now slowly turned her eyes toward them.

“Who killed him?” she demanded.

Her voice was so soft, low, and refined, that Maskull hardly was able to catch the words.  The sounds, however, lingered in his ears, and curiously enough seemed to grow stronger, instead of fainter.

Oceaxe whispered, “Don’t say a word, leave it all to me.”  Then she swung her body around to face Tydomin squarely, and said aloud, “I killed him.”

Tydomin’s words by this time were ringing in Maskull’s head like an actual physical sound.  There was no question of being able to ignore them; he had to make an open confession of his act, whatever the consequences might be.  Quietly taking Oceaxe by the shoulder and putting her behind him, he said in a low, but perfectly distinct voice, “It was I that killed Crimtyphon.”

Oceaxe looked both haughty and frightened.  “Maskull says that so as to shield me, as he thinks.  I require no shield, Maskull.  I killed him, Tydomin.”

“I believe you, Oceaxe.  You did murder him.  Not with your own strength, for you brought this man along for the purpose.”

Maskull took a couple of steps toward Tydomin.  “It’s of little consequence who killed him, for he’s better dead than alive, in my opinion.  Still, I did it.  Oceaxe had no hand in the affair.”

Tydomin appeared not to hear him—­she looked beyond him at Oceaxe musingly.  “When you murdered him, didn’t it occur to you that I would come here, to find out?”

“I never once thought of you,” replied Oceaxe, with an angry laugh.  “Do you really imagine that I carry your image with me wherever I go?”

“If someone were to murder your lover here, what would you do?”

“Lying hypocrite!” Oceaxe spat out.  “You never were in love with Crimtyphon.  You always hated me, and now you think it an excellent opportunity to make it good... now that Crimtyphon’s gone....  For we both know he would have made a footstool of you, if I had asked him.  He worshiped me, but he laughed at you.  He thought you ugly.”

Tydomin flashed a quick, gentle smile at Maskull.  “Is it necessary for you to listen to all this?”

Without question, and feeling it the right thing to do, he walked away out of earshot.

Tydomin approached Oceaxe.  “Perhaps because my beauty fades and I’m no longer young, I needed him all the more.”

Oceaxe gave a kind of snarl.  “Well, he’s dead, and that’s the end of it.  What are you going to do now, Tydomin?”

The other woman smiled faintly and rather pathetically.  “There’s nothing left to do, except mourn the dead.  You won’t grudge me that last office?”