The fiery mouthful almost gagged Dane, but he swallowed manfully and hoped for the best as it burned like acid down his throat into his middle, there to mix uncomfortably with the viands he had eaten.  Weeks’ thin face looked very white, and Dane noticed with malicious enjoyment, that Ali had an unobtrusive grip on the table which made his knuckles stand out in polished knobs—­proving that there were things which could upset the imperturbable Kamil.

Fortunately they were not required to empty that flowing bowl in one gulp as Groft had done.  The ceremonial mouthful was deemed enough and Dane sat down thankfully—­but with uneasy fears for the future.

Groft had started back to his high seat when there was an interruption which had not been foreseen.  A messenger threaded his way among the serving men and spoke to the chieftain, who glanced at the Terrans and then nodded.

Dane, his queasiness growing every second, was not attending until he heard a bitten off word from Rip’s direction and looked up to see a party of I-S men coming into the open space before the high seat.  The men from the Queen stiffened—­there was something in the attitude of the newcomers which hinted at trouble.

“What do you wish, sky lords?” That was Groft using the Trade Lingo, his eyes half closed as he lolled in his chair of state, almost as if he were about to witness some entertainment provided for his pleasure.

“We wish to offer you the good fortune desires of our hearts—­” That was Kallee, the flowery words rolling with the proper accent from his tongue.  “And that you shall not forget us—­we also offer gifts—­”

At a gesture from their Cargo-master, the I-S men set down a small chest.  Groft, his chin resting on a clenched fist, lost none of his lazy air.

“They are received,” he retorted with the formal acceptance.  “And no one can have too much good fortune.  The Howlers of the Black Winds know that.”  But he tendered no invitation to join the feast.

Kallee did not appear to be disconcerted.  His next move was one which took his rivals by surprise, in spite of their suspicions.

“Under the laws of the Fellowship, O, Groft,” he clung to the formal speech, “I claim redress—­”

Ali’s hand moved.  Through his growing distress Dane saw Van Rycke’s jaw tighten, the fighting mask snap back on Captain Jellico’s face.  Whatever came now was real trouble.

Groft’s eyes flickered over the party from the Queen.  Though he had just pledged cup friendship with four of them, he had the malicious humor of his race.  He would make no move to head off what might be coming.

“By the right of the knife and the net,” he intoned, “you have the power to claim personal satisfaction.  Where is your enemy?”

Kallee turned to face the Free Traders.  “I hereby challenge a champion to be set out from these off-worlders to meet by the blood and by the water my champion—­”