e
thing--Southrons. Every Southron who came into the Northland, even the
common crewmen on the trading ships, carried some kind of an
energy-weapon. They were good only for fighting--one look at the body
of Bold showed what they did to meat and skins.

He entered, then, laying his rifle on the table, and got down the
lumicon and went over to the crypt. After a while, he returned, hung
up the light again, and dropped onto a stool. He sat staring at the
violated crypt and tugging with one hand at a corner of his beard,
trying desperately to think.

The thieves had known exactly where the Crown was kept and how it was
guarded; after killing Bold, they had gone straight to it, taken it
and gone away--three men in plastic-soled Southron boots and one man
in soft boots of sealskins, each with a pack and an ice-staff, and two
of them with rifles.

Vahr Farg's son, and three deserters from the crew of Yorn Nazvik's
ship.

It hadn't been Dranigo and Salvadro. They could have left the ship in
their airboat and come back, flying low, while he had been hunting.
But they would have grounded near the house, they would not have
carried packs, and they would have brought nobody with them.

He thought he knew what had happened. Vahr Farg's son had seen the
Crown, and he had heard the two Starfolk offer more trade-tokens for
it than everything in the village was worth. But he was a coward; he
would never dare to face the Keeper's rifle and the teeth of Brave and
Bold alone. So, since none of the village folk would have part in so
shameful a crime against the moral code of the Northland, he had
talked three of Yorn Nazvik's airmen into deserting and joining him.

And he had heard Dranigo say that the _Issa_ would return to Long
Valley Town after the trading voyage to the west. Long Valley was on
the other side of this tongue of the Ice-Father; it was a good fifteen
days' foot-journey around, but by climbing and crossing, they could
easily be there in time to meet Yorn Nazvik's ship and the two
Starfolk. Well, where Vahr Farg's son could take three Southrons, Raud
the Keeper could follow.

* * * * *

Their tracks led up the slope beside the brook, always bearing to the
left, in the direction of the Ice-Father. After an hour, he found
where they had stopped and unslung their packs, and rested long enough
to smoke a cigarette. He read the story they had left in the snow, and
then continued, Brave tro