One of the five, a big man with a contentious air and a jealous eye, whom Stark disliked on sight, asked Yarrod, "What was all that howling from the bar?"

Yarrod nodded at Stark. "He has killed a Child of the Sea."

"And lived?" He sounded incredulous.

"I saw it," said Yarrod curtly. "Now tell us, Stark. Why did Gelmar set the Farers on you?"

"Partly because I had been asking about Ashton. And partly because of a prophecy."

Now they sighed sharply, as the Farer girl had.

"What prophecy?"

"Someone called Gerrith, the wise woman of Irnan, prophesied that an off-worlder would come and destroy the Lords Protector because of Ashton." He looked at them shrewdly. "But you know all about that, don't you?"

"We're all from Irnan," said Yarrod. "We waited and waited, but Ashton never came, and then Gerrith made her prophecy and the Wandsmen killed her. What was Ashton to you?"

"What is a father to a son, a brother to a brother?" Stark moved, easing the pains of his body, but there was no ease for the deeper pain, and they saw that and were disturbed. Stark's eyes held a lambent light.

"You people of Irnan decided to leave this planet, which I can readily understand. You applied through the GU consul at Skeg, keeping the matter very confidential, for help. The Ministry of Planetary Affairs agreed to find you a suitable place on another world and to supply the ships for your emigration. Ashton came to Skaith from the Ministry to discuss this with your leaders and make the final arrangements. As someone said, more fool he-because the whole thing had stopped being confidential. Who talked?"

"None of us," said Yarrod. "Perhaps someone at the consulate. Perhaps Ashton was clumsy."

"Gelmar took him on the Irnan road."

"Did Gelmar tell you that?"

"I don't think he meant to. He had other plans for me, and the information would have been breath wasted. So I took him with me into the sea and gave him a choice."

Yarrod groaned. "You took him into the sea. Don't you know that it is forbidden, absolutely forbidden on pain of death, to lay hands upon or interfere with a Wandsman in any way?"

"I was already under pain of death, and it seemed to me that in any case Gelmar needed a lesson in manners."

They stared at him. Then one of them laughed, and then they all laughed except the big man with the jealous eye who only showed his teeth. Yarrod said, "You may be the Dark Man at that."

The curtain of vines rustled faintly as Breca returned.

"There are people," she said, "coming to the ford. About twenty of them, and in a hurry."

4.

Immediately the group fell silent. Yarrod began making swift gestures. "In here," he said in Stark's ear, and motioned to a fissure in the stonework at one side, barely large enough to accept a body the size of Stark's and of no size at all to permit any motion, offensive or defensive.

"Make up your mind," said Yarrod. "In a moment more we'll have to give you up to save ourselves."

Stark accepted the inevitable and slid himself into the crevice. The aperture was closed within seconds by the meager possessions of the Irnanese-leather bottles, sacks of meal and dried meat for the journey, a spare shift apiece-and by the pod itself, as the Irnanese formed their tight group beside the heap of dunnage. Stark had some difficulty breathing and he could not see anything, but he had been in worse places.

Provided the Irnanese did not sell him out. But he could not do much about that. He settled himself to endure.

From outside the vault he could hear no more than a muddy crowd sound. Then Gelmar entered the vault, and Stark could hear him quite clearly speaking to Yarrod.

"May your people have peace and quick Fulfillment, Master. I am Gelmar of Skeg."

Courtesy required that Yarrod should now identify himself in turn. He did so, giving a totally false name and place of origin and ending with a gravely unctuous, "What may I do for you, my son?"

"Has anyone pa.s.sed this way? A man, an off-worlder, fresh from the sea, perhaps hurt?"

"No," said Yarrod, his voice steady and unconcerned. "I've seen no one. Besides, who escapes from the sea? I've heard the Children hunting within the hour."

"Perhaps the Master is lying," said a girl's voice spitefully, and Stark knew it well. "He was at the ford. He saw us."

"And your people threw stones at us," said Yarrod, sternly reproachful. "My pod became frightened, and it has cost me much effort to calm it. Even a Farer should have more respect."

"One must forgive them," said Gelmar. "They are the children of the Lords Protector. Do you lack for anything? Food? Wine?"

"There is enough. Perhaps tomorrow I shall come to Skeg and ask."

"It will be given gladly."

There were some parting formalities. Gelmar and the girl apparently left the vault, and in a moment Stark could hear whoops and cries as the Farers went haring away through the ruins.

Looking for me, Stark thought, and he was glad of his close crevice, A sorry rabble they were; but one against twenty, and the one unarmed, made for unpleasant odds.

For a time nothing happened except that Yarrod began to lead his pod in a kind of litany, a murmurous chant that almost put Stark to sleep. These people must have practiced well. There had to be a powerful reason to make them do it, and he thought he knew what it was.

The chanting faded gently to a small contented humming, and then Stark heard voices and sounds outside, returning.

Yarrod's voice came clearly. "You didn't find him?"

Rather distantly, Gelmar answered, "There was no sign. But the Children have been on the bar."

"No doubt they have already shared him, then."

"No doubt. Still, if you should see him . . . The man is a lawbreaker and dangerous. He laid hands on me and, being an off-worlder, he might not respect your robe."

"I have no fear, my son," said Yarrod, laying it on just a bit too much, Stark thought. "What do we all wish for but Fulfillment?"

"True," said Gelmar. "Good night, Master."

"Good night. And please to take your unruly flock with you. Each time the tranquillity of my pod is disturbed, the day of release is that much delayed."

Gelmar made some answer, and then there were more sounds, of people going away.

After what seemed a very long wait, Yarrod lifted aside the bundles. "Keep your voice down," he cautioned. "I think Gelmar left a few behind him. It's like trying to count vermin so I can't be sure, but I didn't see the girl."

Stark stood up and stretched. The pod had broken up again, and the woman Breca was missing, presumably on watch.

"Now then," said Yarrod brusquely, "we have a decision to make."

They all considered Stark.

"You believe that he is the Dark Man?" This was the big Irnanese who had spoken before with doubt.

"I think it likely. Gelmar appeared certain."

"But suppose he is not the Dark Man. Suppose we rush back to Irnan only to learn that. Then all our work is wasted and our mission is thrown away for nothing."

There were mutters of a.s.sent.

"That's possible, Halk. What do you suggest?"

"That we let him get to Irnan by himself. If he is truly the Dark Man, he'll make it."

"I don't particularly want to go to Irnan," said Stark, with a certain dangerous cheerfulness. "Ashton's not there."

"And well we know that," said Yarrod. "Where is he?"

"The Citadel of the Lords Protector, at Worldheart, wherever that is."

"North, in any case," said Yarrod. "And in any case, you must go to Irnan."

"Why?"

"So that Gerrith, the daughter of Gerrith, may say if you are truly the Dark Man of the prophecy."

"Oh. Gerrith had a daughter."

''All wise women have daughters if they can possibly manage it. Otherwise the precious genes are lost. And you see, Stark, we must know, or we cannot follow you. And without us and our help, you'll find it hard to do what you've come for."

"He'll find it hard anyway," said Halk, "but he might as well cooperate." He smiled at Stark. "You can't get away from Skaith now. Not through the starport. And there is no other way."

"I know that. Since I have no wish to leave, it scarcely matters, does it?" Stark turned to Yarrod. "Perhaps I can solve the immediate problem. Obviously you couldn't have come here to rescue me, so you must have had another reason. What was it?"

Yarrod fairly snarled. "We of Irnan are no longer allowed to travel without a special permit from the Wandsmen, and we didn't think they'd give us one for this journey. That's why we're flapping about in this silly disguise, so that we could come to Skeg and perhaps find out what the Galactic Union intends to do about us, if anything. I don't suppose they told you that at Pax? They seem to have told you everything else."

"As a matter of fact, they did."

The whole group moved a step closer.

"What will they do? Will they send someone?"

"They have sent someone," Stark said. "Me."

There was a sort of stunned silence. Then Halk asked, "Officially?" The sneer was audible.

"No. They've tried officially to reopen contact with Skaith, and got nowhere."

"So they sent you. Who is your master, then?"

Stark took Halk's meaning and grinned. "No one. I'm a mercenary by trade. Since I was coming anyway, the Minister asked me to find out what I could about matters here and report to him-if I survived. I take no orders from him, and he takes no responsibility for me."

"Then," said Yarrod, "that is the best we can hope for?"

"Short of an invasion, yes. And the Galactic Union dislikes force. So if you want freedom you'll have to fight for it yourselves." Stark shrugged. "You must have realized that Skaith is not the most important planet in the galaxy."

"Except to us who live on it," said Yarrod. "Very well, then. We go back to Irnan. Agreed?"

Even Halk had to admit that, satisfactory or not, they had got what they came for.

"We mustn't go too quickly," said Yarrod, frowning. "That would give us away. Gelmar will expect me in Skeg tomorrow, and he'll surely keep some sort of watch on this side of the river."

Halk said, "What about Stark? We can hardly add him to the pod."

"He must go on ahead of us, tonight. He can wait at the-"

Breca came quickly through the vines, motioning for silence. "I hear them, coming this way."

"Stark-"

"Not in that hole again, thank you, though it was a good hole and welcome at the time. Did they search the roof?"

"They did." The pod began organizing itself, soundlessly and in haste.

"Then they'll likely not bother again." Stark went out through the rearward arch, letting the vines fall back quietly into place. He stood for a moment, head c.o.c.ked. He could hear people moving about, some distance away. If they thought they were being stealthy they were much mistaken. The beautiful sky glowed with its islands of milky fire. In the cl.u.s.ter-light, Stark studied the broken masonry of the vault and then began to climb.

5.

The top of the vault offered reasonable cover, with crumbling bits of wall still standing above the edges. Stark was not so much concerned now, since the main body of Farers had gone, but it would be wiser to avoid being seen.

He had no more than settled himself when Baya and two others came in view. Gelmar might have left them behind on purpose, after the search had failed, in the hope of catching somebody off guard. Or perhaps this scheme had been Baya's idea.

She was leading the other two, both men, who were obviously very bored and as pettish as babies. One was tall and spindly, totally naked except for body-paint that looked as if he had rolled in it. His hair and beard were full of rubbish. The other man was shorter and fatter, and that was all Stark could see of him because he was completely wrapped about with lengths of bright cloth that covered even his face. The folds were stuck full of flowers.

"Let's go back now, Baya," said the tall one, turning toward the ford. "You've seen there's no one here."

"The Dark Man died in the sea," said the shorter one, his voice squeaking impatiently through his veils. "The Children shared him. How could it be otherwise?"