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he must hack off and turn in to get credit for his trophy。 He had done it； but he had made a private pact with himself to be content with one。 That was surely enough to prove his ability； to prove he wasn't just a spoiled wastrel who got into quarrels over opera singers （his father's words）。
So after that first kill； he found reasons to hang around Bandon lodge the rest of that day。 It was easy to play cards too late； drink too much； and sleep heavily when someone knocked on his door。 He roused late on the morning after his 〃blood party〃 as they called it。。。 and found the lodge quiet and nearly empty。 Fine with him； his head ached and the ear； proof of his trophy； looked disgusting in its jar of preservative。 He stared at it morosely and rang for medicine and breakfast。 After that he went back to bed and slept heavily； having promised himself he would find some way of avoiding more hunting。
But now something had gone wrong。 He didn't know what。 Lepescu had yanked him out of bed in late afternoon； and insisted that he had to e hunt again； right now； whether he wanted to or not。 The habit of obedience to older men got him into the flitter before he could organize his mind to protest； and then it was too late。 They were on the island； and Lepescu was telling him where to go and what to do in the rough voice he probably used on his subordinates in the Regular Fleet。 Before he could argue； Lepescu was gone。
The prince stumbled around that night； angry and tired； and found nothing but mudholes in the swamp。 He measured his length in one； and only his custom hunting suit kept him dry。 He heard some shots in the distance； but nothing close enough to startle him。 At dawn； Lepescu reappeared； and handed him a mealpack。 〃Eat this here；〃 he said。 〃We have to get them all； fast。 None of us are going back until we do。〃
〃Why？〃 the prince asked。 The mealpack had a picture of helicberry tarts on it； and he hated helicberries。 He wanted puffcakes with sarmony honey； fat sausages； a bone…melon。
〃Just do it；〃 Lepescu said。 He strode off； looking more military； in the dangerous sense； than the prince had seen before。 And the prince； tired and hungry； sat down and ate his excellent breakfast。 He did not follow Lepescu afterwards； he did not patrol his allotted section of island。 It had ceased to be fun； or exciting； or anything but a deadly bore； and he would insist on returning to his fortable bed on Bandon as soon as someone else showed up。
Long after noon； someone else appeared … one of the servants with vaguely military bearing … and brought him two more mealpacks； coldpacks of water； and warnings。 He was to stay on the island； he was not to drink any local water； he was not to call anyone on his unit； he was to shoot anything that didn't identify itself instantly。
The prince was more than somewhat annoyed。 One did not do this to princes。
Even powerful political figures … even admirals … did not do this to princes。 It was supposed to have been an adventure； with girls to follow； and the chance to reminisce for years to e； and the camaraderie of men who had proved themselves real men。 It was not an adventure anymore； and no one had said anything about the promised girls for days。 He said nothing to the servant； who strode away almost as purposefully as Lepescu； and ate his excellent lunch； then his excellent supper； and finally lay down where he was （protected by his excellent weatherpack） to sleep as long as he liked。 If the criminals got him； so much the better： Lepescu would find his head in a noose。
He woke to hard rain drumming on the shelter and the smell of wet leaves。
Good。 No one would be skulking around in this； and Lepescu would have to let him sleep。 Lightning crackled； thunder boomed； but the prince slept on； unconcerned。
The Admiral Lepescu who woke him in the dark dripping aftermath of the storm was someone he had never met。 He could now credit the more vivid rumors about the admiral's career； faced with that cold； angry countenance； those still gray eyes with so much hunger in them。 The tongue…lashing he got for not having followed orders actually frightened him； the scorn in Lepescu's face shamed him all over again。 He wanted to please this man； and only the habits drilled into him from early childhood kept him from cringing apology。
〃I don't understand the problem；〃 he said stiffly； when Lepescu paused in his tirade。 〃These are just criminals。。。。〃
〃You don't have to understand；〃 the admiral said。 〃You have to obey。〃 Then； as if suddenly remembering who the prince was； he added； 〃Your highness。〃
〃But what's the hurry？〃 the prince asked。 〃You said we'd be here four or five weeks； and it's only been …〃
〃Someone knows about the hunt；〃 the admiral said。 〃You wouldn't want to be promised。。。。 You know what this could do to your future career。 And we can't get them all without your help before we're discovered。 Someone is bound to recognize Ser Smith。〃
〃But surely … 〃 the prince began； but the expression on Lepescu's face stopped him。 〃All right；〃 he said； trying to sound decisive rather than scared。 〃I'll be glad to help out。〃 The moment it was out of his mouth； he realized how silly that sounded； he could feel his ears bum。 He still didn't understand why they couldn't just flitter back to Bandon； take the shuttle up to the Station； and find some pliant girls there； but he knew he couldn't ask Lepescu。 Not now。
Morning had brought an end to the rain； though clouds still clung to the ridge and mist rose from the sodden ground to meet them。 Somewhere on the other side of the ridge； the sun might be spearing through that mist； but not here。 The prince sighed； punched the button on his breakfast mealpack； and waited for it to heat。 He would get his boots muddy again； and they would drag at his feet。。。。 He hated mud。 This whole expedition looked more and more like a mistake； rather than high adventure。 The invitation had specified that they would be here in the dry season； that it could not possibly be promised。。。
and now he was going to be wet； muddy； and in trouble with his father。 Not so much for blowing away a few criminals （or rather； one criminal） as for getting caught doing it。
Nonetheless； he set out to do what he was told； and worked his way up the west side of the island。 He left his unit off； he didn't want to be distracted by whatever might e over it。 Twice； he saw something move that wasn't ID'd as hunter； and shot at it。 Once； whoever it was shot back。 He found two bodies； both criminals； with the ears clipped。 Lepescu's plan didn't make sense to him … herding the criminals into the interior ridge and its rough terrain would make a final cleanup harder … but he went along。 He couldn't think of anything else to do。 He followed the stream uphill because it was easier to walk that way。
The clatter of rocks falling echoed through the cave； Bubbles was sure it was loud enough to be heard outside。 Had the hunters found another entrance？ Was Petris trying to find them？
〃We have to move；〃 she said to Raffa。 〃We might find a better place to hide； and here we're trapped。〃
〃Good idea；〃 Raffa said。 〃We'll have to take the candles； and mark our way …〃
〃We can't mark it； som