nking wine legally,
keeping fierce dogs and going where they pleased on big wild horses. No
man of the ruck could touch one of the gentry and live. The gentry, the
squires who owned guns and hunted men three times a week, men called
"foxes"--it was whispered in the illegal drinking huts, the shebeens,
that the squires had once been members of the ruck. Above there were the
priests, who had always from the dawn of time been of the priestcraft,
being born a notch lower than the gods themselves, who were the golden
globes.

"Our Orbs who dwell in the buttoned sky," said Revel aloud, and spat.
Before that day he wouldn't have dared to think of such an action.

He walked out on the shelf of rock before the mine. Something moved at
the far end of the valley, a brown and silver speck that swiftly became
a horse and rider, rocketing toward him.

It was a girl, her silver gown pulled up to the tops of her thighs so
she could sit astride; she appeared to be having trouble with her mount.
Passing beneath Revel, swearing loudly at the plunging horse, she
continued for a hundred feet, then fell in a swirl of silver cloth as
the brute reared.

Revel leaped down the rock shelf as the horse cantered away. He ran to
the girl, who lay flat on her back, long white legs bared below the
disordered gown. She was blonde, tall, beautifully slicked. No rucker
wore such clothing, or rode a bay stallion, much less looked so groomed
and cleanly; she was a squire's daughter.

As he bent down she opened eyes the shade of sunlight on gray slate.

"Lie still," he said, "you may have broken something, Lady."

Her face was scornful. "Stand back, miner," she said, recognizing his
trade from the distinctive clothing he wore "Death to you if you touch
me."

* * * * *

A confusion of emotions was rioting in him. So much had happened
today--too much for sanity. He surrendered to madness gladly. This was
the most perfect wench he had ever seen. "Shut up," he said, and ran his
fingers over her body. "We of the ruck are expert at mending things,
Lady: bones, pots, and lives. Orbs know, you gentry have busted enough
of 'em for us. That hurt?"

She sat up, brushing her gown to her ankles as Revel took a last wistful
look at her legs. Evidently she was quite unhurt. "You'll play fox for
my father's hunt," she said coldly. "What made you do it?"

"You took a bad fall," he said lightly, wondering at his lack of fear.
Neve