Having been and into more than would have been possible three earlier, Murdock now the man who, though he like a Beaker trader, in using a language Ross did not know.
"We do not play as children here." At last the man spoke Ross understand. "You will answer me or else others shall ask the questions, and less gently. I say to you now—who are you and from where do you come?"
For a moment Ross across the table at him, his to authority by that demand, but then common cautioned. His to this village had left him and with one of his headaches. There was no to let them him until he was in no shape to make a for when and if there was an opportunity.
"I am Rossa of the traders," he returned, the man with a stare. "I came into this land in search of my who were taken by in the night."
The man, who sat on a by the table, slowly. Again he spoke in the tongue, and Ross back. His were and sounding, and the man's faded; his as he to speak.
One of Ross's two to interrupt, using the Beaker language. "From where did you come?" He was a quiet-faced, man, not like his companion, who had Murdock from and was of the breed, able to Ross's in a very struggle.
"I came to this land from the south," Ross answered, "after the manner of my people. This is a new land with and the of the sun to be and bartered. The move in peace, and their hands are against no man. Yet in the there came those who would without profit, for what I have no knowing."
The man the and Ross answered with of the past of one Rossa, a Beaker merchant. Yes, he was from the south. His father was Gurdi, who had a post in the warm lands along the big river. This was Rossa's to open new territory. He had come with his father's blood brother, Assha, who was a noted voyager, and it was an to be as donkey-leader for such a one as Assha. With Assha had been Macna, one who was also a trader, though not as noted as Assha.
Of a certainty, Assha was of his own race! Ross at that question. One need only to look upon him to know that he was of blood and no woodsrunner. How long had he Assha? Ross shrugged. Assha had come to his father's post the winter and had with them through the cold season. Gurdi and Assha had blood after he Gurdi free from the river in flood. Assha had his and in that rescue, so Gurdi had good his this year. Detail by detail he gave the story. In of the that he provided these glibly, sure that they were true, Ross to be by an odd that he was a of which had long ago and to someone else. Perhaps that pain in his him think of these events as very and away.
"It would seem"—the man to the one the table—"that this is one Rossa, a Beaker trader."
But the man looked impatient, angry. He a to the other guard, who Ross around and sent him toward the door with a shove. Once again the leader gave an order in his own language, adding a more with a that might have been a threat or a warning.
Ross was into a small room with a hard and not a skin to as a bed. Since the man had ordered the of the from Ross's arms, he against the wall, the pain of returning away from his and trying to what had to him and where he was. Having upon it from the heights, he it wasn't an ordinary station, and he wanted to know what they did here. Also, in this village he to Assha and Macna.
At the end of the day his opened the door only long to push a bowl and a small jug. He for those in the dusk, his into a of and the water from the avidly. His dulled, and from Ross that this was almost over. If he slept, he would with a mind and no pain. Knowing he was very tired, he took the of up directly in of the door so that no one enter without him.
It was still dark when he with a from a he not remember. Ross sat up, his arms and to the which had come with his sleep. He not himself of a that there was something to be done and that time was his enemy.
Assha! Gratefully he on that. He must Assha and Macna, for the three of them surely a way to out of this village. That was what was so important!
He had been none too gently, and they were him a prisoner. But Ross that this was not the which to him here, and he must be free the did come. The question was, How he escape? His and were gone, and he did not have his long pin for a weapon, since he had that to Frigga.
Running his hands over his body, Ross what of his and possessions. He the chain-belt still in his tunic, the length in one hand. A of craftsmanship, it of patterned plates together with a series of five and a in the of a lion's head, its as a to support a sheath. Its weight promised a of sorts, which when added to the of might free him.
By they would be him to produce some opposition, however. It was well that only the best fighters, the minds, the traders' roads. It was a proud thing to be a in the wilderness, a that Ross now as he waited in the dark for what luck and Ba-Bal of the Bright Horns would send. Were he to return to Gurdi's post, Ba-Bal, across the sky from to dusk, would have a ox, of the brewing, and sweet-smelling upon his altar.
Ross had patience which he had learned from the mixed of his two pasts, the and the false graft. He wait as he had waited many times before—quiet, and with ease—for the right moment to come. It came now with sharply, his door.
With the noiseless speed of a cat, Ross himself from the door to a wall, where he would be from the for that necessary or two. If his attack was to be successful, it must the room. He the of a being out of its brackets, and he himself, the from his right hand.
The door was opening inward, and a man against the light. He muttered, looking toward the where Ross had his single in a roll which might just resemble, for the needed second or two, a man in slumber. The man in the took the bait, for Ross to send the door as he himself with the for the other's head.
There was a cry, cut off in the middle as the plates met and in a force. Luck was with him! Ross up his and it around him after he had a of the now at his feet. He was not sure that the man was dead, but at any he was unconscious. Ross off the man's cloak, his dagger, it from the hook, and it on his own.
Then by Ross open the door, through the crack. As as he see, the was empty, so he the portal open, and in hand, out, for attack. He closed the door, the into its brackets. If the man and for attention, his own friends might think it was Ross and investigating.
But the from the was the part of what he planned to do, as Ross well knew. To Assha and Macna in this of rooms by the enemy was more difficult. Although he had no idea in which of the village they might be confined, this one was the largest and to be the of the men, which meant it also as their prison.
Light came from a in a the hall. The smokily, off a odor, and to Ross the was illumination. He along as close to the as he could, to freeze at the sound. But this of the might well have been deserted, for he saw or no one. He the only two doors opening out of the hall, but they were on the other side. Then he came to a in the corridor, and stopped short, a of low voices.
If he had used a hunter's of and before, Ross was on now as he to a point from which he see that turn. Mere luck him from himself away a moment later.
Assha! Assha, alive, well, under no restraint, was just away from the same man who had had a part in Ross's interrogation. That was surely Assha's hair, his with a Beaker's kilt. A familiar of the Ross, though he not see the man's face. The man the hall, Assha a door. As he passed through it Ross and him inside.
Assha had the room and was on a plate in the floor. Ross, to action by some he did not understand, after him. His left hand upon Assha's shoulder, the man around as Ross, too, upon the of luminescence.
Murdock had only an to that he was into the of an stranger. His hand up in an which the other on the of the throat, and then the world came about them. There was a churning, which and Ross almost across the of his victim. He his it be from his by the thing which his eyes.
The only for a moment, and some part of Ross's mind it as a he had before. He came out of it gasping, to focus his attention once more on the man at his feet.
The was still breathing. Ross to him from the plate and and him with lengths from his kilt. Only when his was secure did he looking about him curiously.
The room was of any and now, as he at the floor, Ross saw that the plate had its glow. The Beaker Rossa on his and of and other mysteries. Not that the to those which were the of men and tribes, but anything which appeared and then without any logical explanation, needed on. Murdock the prisoner, who was now reviving, to the end of the room and then to the plate with the of a man who to with and wanted something to the unexplainable. Though he his hands across the surface of the plate, it did not light up again.
His having himself out of the of the room, Ross the of another silencing—say a on the with the of his dagger. Deciding against it he might need a guide, he the victim's and him to his feet, the where the man see it. Were there any more to be in this place, Assha's would test them first.
The door did not lead to the same corridor, or the same of Ross had passed through moments earlier. Instead they entered a passage with of some which had almost the of metal and were and cold to the touch. In fact, the whole place was chill, as river water in the spring.
Still the him, Ross came to the nearest door and looked within, to be by of metal and boxes. Rossa of the and stared, but again, he that what he saw was not strange. Part of one was a on which small lights and died, to again in of color. A object of wire and across the of a chair near-by.
The man for the chair and fell, toward the wall. Ross pushed him on until he was one of the metal boxes. Then he the of the room, nothing, but studying what he not understand. Puffs of warm air came in through near the floor, but the room had the same as the outside.
Meanwhile the lights on the had more active, on and off in patterns. Ross now a buzzing, as if a of angry were for an attack. Crouching his captive, Ross the lights, trying to the of the sound.
The shriller, almost demanding. Ross the of in the corridor, and a man entered the room, to the chair. He sat and the wire-and-disk over his head. His hands moved under the lights, but Ross not what he was doing.
The at Murdock's to stir, but Ross's hand him quiet. The noise which had originally the man at the lights was by a pattern of long-and-short sounds, and his hands more while Ross took in every detail of the other's and equipment. He was neither a a trader. He a dull-green cut in one piece to his arms and as well as his body, and his was so that his might have been shaven. Ross the of his across his eyes, again that other memory. Odd as this man looked, Murdock had his like somewhere, yet the had not been Gurdi's post on the southern river. Where and when had he, Rossa, been with such beings? And why he not it all more clearly?
Boots once more in the hall, and another in. This one furs, but he, too, was no hunter, Ross as he the in detail. The of thick with its back, the high boots, and all the were not of any fashioning. And the man had four eyes! One pair were on either of his nose, and the other two, black-rimmed and murky, were set above on his forehead.
The fur-clad man the one seated at the board. He his from the wire so that they talk together in a language while lights to and the died away. Ross's with and at last free a to at one of the metal installations. The resulting men around. The one at the his off as he jumped to his feet, while the other out a gun.
Gun? One little of Ross's mind at his of that black thing and of the it promised, as he prepared for battle. He pushed his across the path of the man in and himself in the other direction. There was a blast to make a in his as he toward the door.
So was Ross upon that he did not but out on his hands and knees, thus a to the third man the hall. Ross's the at level, and they in a which saved Ross's life as the others out them.
Ross grimly, his hands and moving in he was not of planning. His was no easy match and at last Ross was flattened, in of his efforts. He was over, his arms him, and cold metal about his wrists. Then he was rolled back, to up at his enemies.
All three men over him, barking questions which he not understand. One of them and returned with Ross's captive, his mouth a line and a light in his Ross than words.
"You are the prisoner?" The man who looked like Assha over Murdock, of red on his skin where the and had been.
"I am Rossa, son of Gurdi, of the traders," Ross returned, meeting what he read in the other's with a defiance. "I was a prisoner, yes. But you did not keep me one for long then, shall you now."
The man's thin upper lip lifted. "You have done ill, my friend. We have a prison here for you, one from which you shall not escape."
He spoke to the other men, and there was the ring of an order in his voice. They Ross to his feet, pushing him ahead of them. During the Ross used his eyes, noticing he not identify in the rooms through which they passed. Men called questions and at last they paused long enough, Ross in the of the fur-clad guard, for the other two to put on garments.
Ross had his in the fight, but no shirt was him. He more and more as the which to that of rooms and into his half-clad body. He was of only one thing about this place; he not possibly be in the of the village. However, he was unable to where he was and how he had come there.
Finally, they a narrow room with metal objects of or that and were with along which all the colors of the ringed. Here was a door, and when one of the used hands to it open, the cold that in at them was a that as it touched skin.
