They saw the inhabitants of the port only in passing. No one came to the warehouse to which they had been so summarily dismissed nor was there any sign of either the commander or the priest. It would appear that their arrival was now a matter for total denial. Though Jofre had sighted at least one of the armed robed ones passing along the stretch of ground outside the warehouse door at rather regular intervals, as if he walked a beat.
Zurzal seemed content to wait. Patience was inborn in his long-lived race, but it was a virtue which the two from Asborgan had learned the hard way to cultivate. Since there was no sign of an eating place, they reluctantly broke open some of their own supplies and ate a very frugal portion as the day swept on toward evening.
More and more of those giants who supplied transportation were returning to the place where off-worlders had seen their fellows relaxing earlier. Some of them were burden carriers and others had their smaller swings occupied with the maned aliens or, once in a while, a robed one.
With the coming of evening and the setting of the sun there was a change in the temperature. The heat which had grown almost to a stifling degree began to dissipate and there arose a wind sweeping in from the north which had a decidedly cold edge. Jofre had taken position on guard at the door of the warehouse itself. There had been no intruders during the afternoon to get at any of what was stored there and they seemed to have it for themselves.
'One—come—' He did not really need the warning of the Jat. It would seem his own battle-honed sense was keen enough here to pick up that feeling that there was a stranger headed for their quarters. Certainly there was no lighting of the 'streets' in the dusk but there did seem to be a haze of dim radiance bobbing along towards the doorway at a pace a person might walk.
Jofre did not step into direct sight himself and now he was aware that Taynad was moving in at an angle behind him as might any Brother when the alert was given. One of his hands was on the hilt of a throwing knife. They had set out from Wayright with stunners, only to have theirs put under seal by the captain as contraband on Lochan. Only Zurzal, because of his maiming, had not been deprived of his weapon. Here one was back to the bladed weapons Jofre knew best.
The pinch of light brought a glisten from a round face. If not the priest from the landing site, then another of his kind. And there came through the dark not only an odor which suggested a long-unbathed body but, in addition, a thin whistle.
'Let him in.' Zurzal moved out, ready to bid their visitor welcome. Jofre obeyed but fell in on the heels of the Lochanian. He knew without being told that Taynad and the Jat shared sentry duty now and that his place as guard was with the Zacathan.
The light of their cubicle was strong enough to show that this was indeed the one Zurzal had spoken to. In one pudgy hand the fellow held a loose ball of stuff from which spun the thread of feeble light. His bulbous eyes glistened in that glow, as subdued as it was.
Zurzal was ready with the translator. 'Greeting, Worshipful One, you have been awaited—the hour grows late.' There was a kind of snap in the Zacathan's voice; whether such a nuance was translated into the squealing by the disc Jofre could not guess. But he was very sure that Zurzal was prepared to take a firm stand with this visitor.
Those wide lips puffed forth a breath which was foul. And then squeaked in answer:
'The Axe of Rou comes or goes not at the will of off-worlders. There is little patience—what would you do here, stranger?'
'I seek, as I have said, knowledge. Your world is old—it has seen many changes—is that not so?'
'Rou works as it is willed. The earth and all which forms it is for HIM as the mud of the under leaf is to the maker of pots, as the knuckle of iron to him who fashions a blade. But what do you know of these changes you speak of? You are not one with Rou.'
'Rou exists in many forms also,' Zurzal answered. 'Can it not be that it is by
'I have the ear of Rou.' The squealing arose to a high pitch. 'Say it to me, off-worlder, and I shall judge whether this be business of Rou's Own or not.'
'Very well.' The Zacathan stooped and laid a hand lightly on the scanner case. 'This I carry, Axe of Rou, is born of long study and the use of very ancient records. It has the power to bring to light matters lost in the long seasons forgotten by men whose memories cannot hold so much. There is a place in the Shattered Land which bears a certain mark. That was discovered by some knowledge seekers before me. But they did not possess such an aid as this one and they were driven away before they could obtain much which they were sure could be learned. Therefore I have come to carry on this work and see into the ages behind—'
'Only Rou can look behind more than one lifetime!'
'So can I not, without this. But it is the learning which Rou allows men that has brought this into being and the glory will be
The priest wiped the palm of his light-free hand across his triple chin. He was like all of his kind, Jofre believed, seeking what could lie in such a matter which would further his own gain.
'What would you need to do Rou's Will in this matter?' The demand was abrupt. Their needs would also present a bargaining point.
'We need a guide to the Shattered Land, and transportation for ourselves and our gear.' Zurzal was as quick to deliver his needs.
'The Shattered Land—it is a place of the Long Dead, of the damned Ones who followed Vunt. You will find no true follower of Rou to enter there. But—' The squeaking voice paused for a moment. Jofre tensed, sensing that what was coming now was of the first importance as far as the priest was concerned.
'There once was land where Rou had His place. And— yes, there are very old stories that there was powerful knowledge to be found there—left behind when the Will of Rou twisted that part of the world with fire and the shaking of the earth. But why should we allow such knowledge to fall into the hands of off-worlders? By what right do you claim the knowledge which was once that of Rou's children?
'None,' the Zacathan returned promptly. 'I freely surrender all claims to what may be found if those of Rou will it so.'
'Then,' came back the priest with a rush, 'what do
