out it were durable
goods and trinkets from a dozen cities. There were articles even from
far-off Telon, in the Konassan gulf. He looked back at Musa.

"Norlar," he declared, "has fallen into the hands of thieves and
murderers. You can trade there, to be sure. You can even make a profit.
But you cannot be sure you will not excite the avarice of the Kondarans,
or arouse their anger. For they have a multitude of strange laws, which
they can invoke against anyone, and which they enforce with
confiscation of goods. Death or slavery await any who protest their
actions or question their rules." He paused.

[Illustration]

"Some manage to trade, and come back with profitable bales. Some leave
their goods in the hands of the priests of Kondaro. Some remain, to find
a quick death. But I stop here. I prefer to deal with honorable men.
When I face the thief or the bandit, I prefer to have a weapon in my
hand. A book of strange laws can be worse than any bandit born."

Musa looked about the market. "Here, of course," he acknowledged, "are
the goods of the Far East. But I must see them at their source." He
shook his head. "No," he decided, "I shall make one trip at least."

"I'll give you just one word of caution, then," he was told. "Whatever
you see, make little comment. Whenever you are asked for an offering,
make no objection, but give liberally. Keep your eyes open and your
opinions to yourself."

"Thanks." Musa grinned. "I'll try to remember."

"Don't just remember. Follow the advice, if you wish to return."

Musa's grin widened. "I'll be back," he promised.

* * * * *

The harbor of Tanagor, chief seaport of Norlar, was full of shipping.
Here were the ships which plied the trackless wastes of the Eastern Sea.
Huge, red-sailed, broad-beamed, they rode at anchor in the harbor,
served by small galleys from the city. Tied up at the wharves, were the
smaller, yellow and white-sailed ships which crossed the channel between
the mainland and the island empire.

Slowly, Musa's ship drew in toward the wharf, where a shouting gang of
porters and stevedores awaited her arrival. Together with other
passengers, Musa stood at the rail, watching the activity on the pier.

Four slaves, bearing a crimson curtained litter, came to the wharf and
stopped. The curtains opened, and a man stepped out. He was not large,
nor did his face or figure differ from the normal. But his elegantly
embroidered crimso