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n along the hillside and through an archway garlanded with decaying banners； out again into the sunlight in a steep square； another marketplace； crowded with booths and stalls and swarming with people and flies。
Around the edges of the square； a number of men and women were sitting or lying on their backs； motionless。 Their mouths had a curious blackish look； as if they had been bruised； and around their lips flies swarmed and gathered in clusters like bunches of dried currants。
〃So many；〃 said Sparrowhawk's voice； low and hasty as if he too had gotten a shock； but when Arren looked at him there was the blunt； bland face of the hearty trader Hawk； showing no concern。
〃What's wrong with those people？〃
〃Hazia。 It soothes and numbs； letting the body be free of the mind。 And the mind roams free。 But when it returns to the body it needs more hazia。。。 And the craving grows and the life is short； for the stuff is poison。 First there is a trembling； and later paralysis； and then death。〃
Arren looked at a woman sitting with her back to a sunwarmed wall； she had raised her hand as if to brush away the flies from her face； but the hand made a jerky； circular motion in the air； as if she had quite forgotten about it and it was moved only by the repeated surging of a palsy or shaking in the muscles。 The gesture was like an incantation emptied of all intention； a spell without meaning。
Hawk was looking at her too； expressionless。 〃e on！〃 he said。
He led on across the marketplace to an awning…shaded booth。 Stripes of sunlight colored green； orange； lemon； crimson； azure； fell across the cloths and shawls and woven belts displayed； and danced multitudinous in the tiny mirrors that bedecked the high； feathered headdress of the woman who sold the stuff。 She was big and she chanted in a big voice； 〃Silks； satins； canvases； furs； felts； woollens； fleecefells of Gont； gauzes of Sowl； silks of Lorbanery！ Hey； you Northern men； take off your duffle…coats； don't you see the sun's out？ How's this to take home to a girl in far Havnor？ Look at it； silk of the South； fine as the mayfly's wing！〃 She had flipped open with deft hands a bolt of gauzy silk； pink shot with threads of silver。
〃Nay； mistress； we're not wed to queens；〃 said Hawk； and the woman's voice rose to a blare： 〃So what do you dress your womenfolk in； burlap？ sailcloth？ Misers that won't buy a bit of silk for a poor woman freezing in the everlasting Northern snow！ How's this then； a Gontish fleecefell； to help you keep her warm on winter nights！〃 She flung out over the counterboard a great cream and brown square； woven of the silky hair of the goats of the northeastern isles。 The pretended trader put out his hand and felt it； and he smiled。
〃Aye； you're a Gontishman？〃 said the blaring voice； and the headdress nodding sent a thousand colored dots spinning over the canopy and the cloth。
〃This is Andradean work； see？ There's but four warpstrings to the finger's width。 Gont uses six or more。 But tell me why you've turned from working magic to selling fripperies。 When I was here years since； I saw you pulling flames out of men's ears； and then you made the flames turn into birds and golden bells； and that was a finer trade than this one。〃
〃It was no trade at all；〃 the big woman said； and for a moment Arren was aware of her eyes； hard and steady as agates； looking at him and Hawk from out of the glitter and restlessness of her nodding feathers and flashing mirrors。
〃It was pretty； that pulling fire out of ears；〃 said Hawk in a dour but simple…minded tone。 〃I thought to show it to my nevvy。〃
〃Well now； look you；〃 said the woman less harshly； leaning her broad； brown arms and heavy bosom on the counter。 〃We don't do those tricks any more。 People don't want 'em。 They've seen through 'em。 These mirrors now； I see you remember my mirrors；〃 and she tossed her head so that the reflected dots of colored light whirled dizzily about them。 〃Well； you can puzzle a man's mind with the flashing of the Mirrors and with words and with other tricks I won't tell you； till he thinks he sees what he don't see； what isn't there。 Like the flames and golden bells； or the S't of clothes I used to deck sailormen in； cloth of
In s gold with diamonds like apricots； and off they'd swagger like the King of All the Isles 。。。。 But it was tricks； fooleries。 You can fool men。 They're like chickens charmed by a snake； by a finger held before 'em。 Men are like chickens。 But then in the end they know they've been fooled and fuddled and they get angry and lose their pleasure in such things。 So I turned to this trade； and maybe all the silks aren't silks nor all the fleeces Gontish； but all the same they'll wearthey'll wearl They're real and not mere lies and air like the suits of cloth of gold。〃
〃Well； well；〃 said Hawk； 〃then there's none left in all Hort Town to pull fire out of ears； or do any magic like they did？〃
At his last words the woman frowned； she straightened up and began to fold the fleecefell carefully。 〃Those who want lies and visions chew hazia；〃 she said。 〃Talk to them if you like！〃 She nodded at the unmoving figures around the square。
〃But there were sorcerers； they that charmed the winds for seamen and put spells of fortune on their cargoes。 Are they all turned to other trades？〃
But she in sudden fury came blaring in over his words； 〃There's a sorcerer if you want one； a great one； a wizard with a staff and all…see him there？ He sailed with Egre himself； making winds and finding fat galleys； so he said； but it was all lies； and Captain Egre gave him his just reward at last； he cut his right hand off。 And there he sits now； see him； with his mouth full of hazia and his belly full of air。 Air and liesl Air and liesl That's all there is to your magic； Seacaptain Goad〃
〃Well； well； mistress；〃 said Hawk with obdurate mildness； 〃I was only asking。〃 She turned her broad back with a great； dazzle of whirling mirror…dots； and he ambled off； Arren beside him。
His amble was purposeful。 It brought them near the man she had pointed out。 He sat propped against a wall； staring at nothing； the dark； bearded face had been very handsome once。 The wrinkled wrist…stump lay on the pavement stones in the hot； bright sunlight； shameful。
There was some motion among the booths behind them； but Arren found it hard to look away from the man； a loathing fascination held him。 〃Was he really a wizard？〃 he asked very low。
〃He may be the one called Hare； who was weatherworker for the pirate Egre。 They were famous thieves …Here； stand clear； Arrenl〃 A man running full…tilt out from among the booths nearly slammed into them both。 Another came trotting by； struggling under the weight of a great folding tray loaded with cords and braids and laces。 A booth collapsed with a crash； awnings were being pushed over or taken down hurriedly； knots of people shoved and wrestled through the marketplace； voices rose in shouts and screams。 Above them all rang the blaring yell of the woman with the headdress of mirrors。 Arren glimpsed her wielding some kind of pole or stick against a bunch of men； fending them off with great sweeps like a swordsman at bay。。 Whether it was a qu