oked up from his desk as they were thrust
into his cabin. Frankle's face was a graven mask as he searched their
faces dispassionately. The captives were pale and seemed to cringe from
the pale interrogation light. "Chickens!" the Hunter snorted. "We have
been hunting down chickens." His eyes turned to one of the guards. "They
have been searched?"

"Of course, master."

"And questioned?"

The guard frowned. "Yes, sir. But their language is almost
unintelligible."

"You've studied the basic tongues, haven't you?" Frankle's voice was as
cold as his eyes.

"Of course, sir, but this is so different."

Frankle stared in contempt at the fair-skinned captives, fixing his
eyes on them for a long moment. Finally he said, "Well?"

Ravdin glanced briefly at Dana's white face. His voice seemed weak and
high-pitched in comparison to the Hunter's baritone. "You are the leader
of the Hunters?"

Frankle regarded him sourly, without replying. His thin face was
swarthy, his short-cut gray hair matching the cold gray of his eyes. It
was an odd face, completely blank of any thought or emotion, yet capable
of shifting to a strange biting slyness in the briefest instant. It was
a rich face, a face of inscrutable depth. He pushed his chair back, his
eyes watchful. "We know your people were here," he said suddenly. "Now
they've gone, and yet you remain behind. There must be a reason for such
rashness. Are you sick? Crippled?"

Ravdin shook his head. "We are not sick."

"Then criminals, perhaps? Being punished for rebellious plots?"

"We are not criminals."

The Hunter's fist crashed on the desk. "Then why are you here? _Why?_
Are you going to tell me now, or do you propose to waste a few hours of
my time first?"

"There is no mystery," Ravdin said softly. "We stayed behind to plead
for peace."

"For peace?" Frankle stared in disbelief. Then he shrugged, his face
tired. "I might have known. Peace! Where have your people gone?"

Ravdin met him eye for eye. "I can't say."

The Hunter laughed. "Let's be precise, you don't _choose_ to say, just
now. But perhaps very soon you will wish with all your heart to tell
me."

Dana's voice was sharp. "We're telling you the truth. We want peace,
nothing more. This constant hunting and running is senseless, exhausting
to both of us. We want to make peace with you, to bring our people
together again."

Frankle snorted. "You came to us in war, once, long ago. Now you want
peace. What wo