d at his companion.

"Do you think these priests at Norlar might be in our line of business?"

"Could be," nodded Lanko. "There's a lot of seafaring out of Konassa,
and there are several other busy seaports we know of. But no one in any
of them ever heard of navigation out of sight of land, let alone trying
it. There's nothing but pilotage, and even that's pretty sketchy. And,
there's this thing." He crossed to the workbench, picked up the sword,
and stroked its blade.

"Normally," he mused, "technical knowledge gets around. Part of it's
developed here, part there. Then someone comes along and puts it
together. And someone else adds to it. And so on.

"Then, there are other times, when there's an abnormal source, or where
there are unusual conditions, and knowledge is very closely guarded.
This might be one of those cases, and those priests might be fronting
for someone very much in our line of business." He broke off.

"Any maedli hot?"

"Sure." Banasel picked a pot from the heater and poured two cups.

"Think we should set up a base near Norlar and have a look?"

"Probably be a good idea." Lanko accepted a cup, took a sip, and shook
his head violently.

"Ouch! I said hot, not boiling." He blew on the cup and set it aside to
steam itself cool.

"These mountains were an excellent base," he continued, "but this area
seems to be developing perfectly. There's no outside interference, all
traces of former interference have been eliminated, and there's very
little excuse for us to hang around." He picked up the cup again,
cautiously sampling its contents. "And it's about time we moved around
and checked on the rest of the planet."

Banasel turned back to the workbench. "Good idea," he agreed. "I'll get
this scanner set up again, and we'll be ready to load out." He picked up
his tools. "As I remember, Norlar has a mountainous backbone where no
one ever goes. We should be able to set up right on the island."

* * * * *

On the eastern slope of the Midra Kran, a cloud of dust paced a caravan,
which wound up the trail, through a pass. The treachery of the narrow
path was testified to by an occasional slither, followed by a startled
curse.

Musa stood in his stirrups, looking ahead at the long trail which
twisted a little farther up, then dropped to the wide Jogurthan plateau.
Far ahead, over the poorly marked way, he knew, was another range, the
Soruna Kran, which blocked his way t