One of the younger warriors in Paft’s train got to his feet and brought his hands together with a clap which echoed across the silent gathering with the force of an archaic solid projectal shot.  A Salarik, wearing the rich dress of the upper ranks, but also the collar forced upon a captive taken in combat, came into the enclosure carrying a jug in both hands.  Preceded by Paft’s son he made the rounds of the assembly pouring a purple liquid from his jug into the goblet before each chieftain, a goblet which Paft’s heirs tasted ceremoniously before it was presented to the visiting clan leader.  When they paused before Van Rycke the Salarik nobleman touched the side of the plasta flask in token.  It was recognized that off world men must be cautious over the sampling of local products and that when they joined in the Taking of the First Cup of Peace, they did so symbolically.

Paft raised his cup, his gesture copied by everyone around the circle.  In the harsh tongue of his race he repeated a formula so archaic that few of the Salariki could now translate the sing-song words.  They drank and the meeting was formally opened.

But it was an elderly Salarik seated to the right of Halfer, a man who wore no claw knife and whose dusky yellow cloak and sash made a subdued note amid the splendor of his fellows, who spoke first, using the click-clack of the Trade Lingo his nation had learned from Cam.

“Under the white,” he pointed to the shield aloft, “we assemble to hear many things.  But now come two tongues to speak where once there was but one father of a clan.  Tell us, outlanders, which of you must we now hark to in truth?” He looked from Van Rycke to the I-S representative.

The Cargo-master from the Queen did not reply.  He stared across the circle at the Company man.  Dane waited eagerly.  What was the I-S going to say to that?

But the fellow did have an answer, ready and waiting.  “It is true, fathers of clans, that here are two voices, where by right and custom there should only be one.  But this is a matter which can be decided between us.  Give us leave to withdraw from your sight and speak privately together.  Then he who returns to you will be the true voice and there shall be no more division—­”

It was Paft who broke in before Halfer’s spokesman could reply.

“It would have been better to have spoken together before you came to us.  Go then until the shadow of the shield is not, then return hither and speak truly.  We do not wait upon the pleasure of outlanders—­”

A murmur approved that tart comment.  “Until the shadow of the shield is not.”  They had until noon.  Van Rycke arose and Dane gathered up his chief’s possessions.  With the same superiority to his surroundings he had shown upon entering, the Cargo-master left the enclosure, the Eysies following.  But they were away from the clearing, out upon the road back to the Queen before the two from the Company caught up with them.