As Musa disappeared over the vessel's side, the priest, Dontor, lowered
his arms. Quickly turning the unscheduled event to advantage, he cried,
"We need worry no further, my children. The Great One has called this
blasphemer to final account."

He turned to one of his juniors, lowering his voice.

"Go below, Alnar, and break out this man's goods. We must reward those
who informed us."

The junior bowed. "Yes, sir." He hesitated. "Will this storm blow over
soon?" he queried.

Dontor smiled. "You should have paid more attention to your course in
practical seamanship," he chided. "We are sailing fairly close hauled,
so our speed is added to that of the wind. And, since storms move, it'll
pass us shortly." He pointed to the horizon.

"See that small break in the clouds? That indicates a possibility of
clear weather beyond. We should be through the worst of the storm in a
matter of a few hours. And we'll never reach the really dangerous core
of the storm, for we are passing through an edge of it. Our only problem
is to keep from losing a mast during the time we are close to the
storm's heart." He paused, looking aloft.

"The crew is competent. They have the sails properly reefed, and, if
necessary, they can furl them in short order. What trouble can we have?"

"Thank you, sir." The younger priest bowed again. "I will make the
necessary arrangements for those goods."

Dontor stood for a moment, surveying the ship, then walked toward the
helm.

"If I am ever in charge of operations," he told himself, "I will replace
some of these sailors by neophyte priests, and let them steer by their
own compasses. This method is too cumbersome. Besides, the neophytes
should get to sea earlier, anyway."

He approached the pilot priest, who stood apart from the helmsman, his
slave holding the little red box with the compass.

"How is our course?"

The priest turned, then bowed. "We are off course twelve degrees to the
north, sir," he reported. "I have instructed the helmsman to come as
close to the wind as possible."

Dontor nodded. "Very good," he approved. "Keep track of your time, and
we'll correct when we get a chance to shift course to the south. We can
determine whatever final correction is necessary at noon sight
tomorrow."

Alnar came up the ladder to the quarterdeck. Approaching Dontor, he
bowed in salute, then reported.

[Illustration]

"The goods are ready, sir."

"Very well. Find those two traders and give