hieftain worried lest this spaceboat be it.

"Thal," said Don Loris peevishly, sitting beside the great fireplace in
the enormous, draughty hall, "you know this Bron Hoddan better than
anybody else."

Thal breathed heavily. He turned pale.

"Where is he?" demanded Don Loris.

"I don't know," said Thal. It was true. So far as he was concerned,
Hoddan had vanished into the sky.

"What does he plan to do?" demanded Don Loris.

"I don't know," said Thal helplessly.

"Where does that ... that thing outside the castle come from?"

"I don't know," said Thal.

Don Loris drummed on the arm of his intricately carved chair.

"I don't like people who don't know things!" he said fretfully. "There
must be somebody in that--thing. Why don't they show themselves? What
are they here for? Why did they come down--especially here? Because of
Bron Hoddan?"

"I don't know," said Thal humbly.

"Then go find out!" snapped Don Loris. "Take a reasonable guard with
you. The thing must have a door. Knock on it and ask who's inside and
why they came here. Tell them I sent you to ask."

Thal saluted. With his teeth tending to chatter, he gathered a
half-dozen of his fellows and went tramping out the castle gate. Some of
the half dozen had been involved in the rescue of the Lady Fani from
Ghek. They were still in a happy mood because of the plunder they'd
brought back. It was much more than a mere retainer could usually hope
for in a year.

"What's this all about, Thal?" demanded one of them as Thal arranged
them in two lines to make a proper military appearance, spears dressed
upright and garrison-shields on their left arms.

"Frrrrd _harch!_" barked Thal, and they swung into motion. "Two, three,
four, _Hup_, two, three, four. _Hup_, two, three--" The cadence was
established.

Thal said gloomily, "Don Loris said to find out who landed that thing
out yonder. And he keeps asking me about Bron Hoddan, too."

He strode in step with the others. The seven men made an impressively
soldierly group, tramping away from the castle wall.

"What happened to him?" asked a rear-file man. He marched on, eyes
front, chest out, spear-shaft swinging splendidly in time with his
marching. "That lad has a nose for loot! Don't take it himself, though.
If he set up in business as a chieftain, now--"

"_Hup_, two, three, four," muttered Thal. "_Hup_, two, three--"

"Don Loris' a hard chieftain," growled the right-hand man in the second
file. "Plent