The chieftain whose arrival they had in a manner delayed came in after them and Dane saw that it was Fashdor—­another piece of luck—­since that clan was a small one and the chieftain had little influence.  Had they so slowed Halfer or Paft it might be a different matter altogether.

Fashdor was established at his seat, his belongings spread out, and Dane, counting unobtrusively, was certain that the council was now complete.  Seven clans Traxt Cam had recorded divided the sea coast territory and there were seven chieftains here—­indicative of the importance of this meeting since some of these clans beyond the radius of the shield peace, must be fighting a vicious blood feud at that very moment.  Yes, seven were here.  Yet there still remained a single stool, directly across the circle from Van Rycke.  An empty stool—­who was the late comer?

That question was answered almost as it flashed into Dane’s mind.  But no Salariki lordling came through the door.  Dane’s self-control kept him in his place, even after he caught the meaning of the insignia emblazoned across the newcomer’s tunic.  Trader—­and not only a Trader but a Company man!  But why—­and how?  The Companies only went after big game—­this was a planet thrown open to Free Traders, the independents of the star lanes.  By law and right no Company man had any place here.  Unless—­behind a face Dane strove to keep as impassive as Van’s his thoughts raced.  Traxt Cam as a Free Trader had bid for the right to exploit Sargol when its sole exportable product was deemed to be perfume—­a small, unimportant trade as far as the Companies were concerned.  And then the Koros stones had been found and the importance of Sargol must have boomed as far as the big boys could see.  They probably knew of Traxt Cam’s death as soon as the Patrol report on Limbo had been sent to Headquarters.  The Companies all maintained their private information and espionage services.  And, with Traxt Cam dead without an heir, they had seen their chance and moved in.  Only, Dane’s teeth set firmly, they didn’t have the ghost of a chance now.  Legally there was only one Trader on Sargol and that was the Solar Queen, Captain Jellico had his records signed by the Patrol to prove that.  And all this Inter-Solar man would do now was to bow out and try poaching elsewhere.

But the I-S man appeared to be in no haste to follow that only possible course.  He was seating himself with arrogant dignity on that unoccupied stool, and a younger man in I-S uniform was putting before him the same type of equipment Dane had produced for Van Rycke.  The Cargo-master of the Solar Queen showed no surprise, if the Eysies’ appearance had been such to him.