"A something. Non-Warlockian, or non-Wyvern. And perhaps trouble for
us."
"You haven't seen this other?"
Thorvald sat down cross-legged. The amber light from the window made
red-gold of his hair, added ruddiness to his less-gaunt features.
"No, I haven't. As far as I can tell, the stranger's not right here. I
caught stray thought beams twice--surprise expressed by newly arrived
Wyverns who met me and apparently expected to be fronted by something
quite physically different."
"Another Terran scout?"
"No. I imagine that to the Wyverns we must look a lot alike. Just as we
couldn't tell one of them from her sister if their body patterns didn't
differ. Discovered one thing about those patterns--the more intricate
they run, the higher the 'power,' not of the immediate wearer, but of
her ancestors. They're marked when they qualify for their disk and
presented with the rating of the greatest witch in their family line as
an inducement to live up to those deeds and surpass them if possible.
Quite a bit of logic to that. Given the right conditioning, such a
system might even work in our service."
That nugget of information was the stuff from which Survey reports were
made. But at the moment the information concerning the other captive was
of more value to Shann. He steadied his body against the wall with his
good hand and got to his feet. Thorvald watched him.
"I take it you have visions of action. Tell me, Lantee, why _did_ you
take that header off the cliff to mix it with fork-tail?"
Shann wondered himself. He had no reason for that impulsive act. "I
don't know----"
"Chivalry? Fair Wyvern in distress?" the other prodded. "Or did the back
lash from one of those disks draw you in?"
"I don't know----"
"And why did you use your knife instead of your stunner?"
Shann was startled. For the first time he realized that he had fronted
the greatest native menace they had discovered on Warlock with the more
primitive of his weapons. Why had he not tried the stunner on the beast?
He had just never thought of it when he had taken that leap into the
role of dragon slayer.
"Not that it would have done you any good to try the ray; it has no
effect on fork-tail."
"You tried it?"
"Naturally. But you didn't know that, or did you pick up that
information earlier?"
"No," answer Shann slowly. "No, I don't know why I used the knife. The
stunner would have been more natural." Suddenly he shivered, and the
face he turned to Thorvald was very sober.
"How much do they control us?" he asked, his voice dropping to a half
whisper as if the walls about them could pick up those words and relay
them to other ears. "What can they do?"
"A good question." Thorvald lost his light tone. "Yes, what can they
feed into our minds without our knowing? Perhaps those disks are only
window dressing, and they can work without them. A great deal will
depend upon the impression we can make on these witches." He began to
smile again, more wryly. "The name we gave this planet is certainly a
misnomer. A warlock is a male sorcerer, not a witch."
"And what are the chances of our becoming warlocks ourselves?"
Again Thorvald's smile faded, but he gave a curt little nod to Shann as
if approving that thought. "That is something we are going to look into,
and now! If we have to convince some stubborn females, as well as fight
Throgs, well"--he shrugged--"we'll have a busy, busy, time."