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was divided into two parts. At the back were Bel-ka-Trazet’s private quarters. The larger part, known as the Sindrad, served as both council-chamber and mess-hall for the barons. Except when a full council was summoned it was seldom that all the barons were assembled at once. There were continual journeys to the mainland for hunting expeditions and trade, for the island had no iron or other metal except what could be imported from the Gelt mountains in exchange for skins, feathers, semi-precious stones and such artifacts as arrows and rope; whatever, in fact, had any exchange value. Apart from the barons and those who attended upon them, all hunters and traders had to obtain leave to come and go. The barons, as often as they returned, were required to report their news like anyone else and while living on the island usually ate the evening meal with Bel -ka- Trazet in the Sindrad.
    Some five or six faces turned towards Taphro and Kelderek as they entered. The meal was over and a debris of bones, rinds and skins littered the floor. A boy was collecting this refuse into a basket, while another sprinkled fresh sand. Four of the barons were still sitting on the benches, holding their drinking-horns and leaning their elbows on the table. Two, however, stood apart near the doorway — evid ently to get the last of the daylight, for they were talking in low tones over an abacus of beads and a piece of smooth bark covered with writing. This seemed to be some kind of list or inventory, for as Kelderek passed, one of the two barons, looking at it, said, ‘No, twenty-five ropes, no more,’ whereupon the other moved back a bead with his fore-finger and replied, ‘And you have twenty-five ropes fit to go, have you?’
    Kelderek and Taphro came to a stop before a young, very tall man, with a silver torque on his left arm. When they entered he had had his back to the door, but now he turned to look at them , holding his horn in one hand and sitting somewhat unsteadily on the table with his feet on the bench below. He looked Kelderek up and down w ith a bland smile, but said nothing. Confused, Kelde rek lowered his eyes. The young baron’s silence continued and the hunter, by way of keeping himself in countenance, tried to fi x his attenti on on the great table, which he had heard described but never before seen. It was old, carved with a craftsmanship beyond the skill of any carpenter or woodworker now alive on Ortelga. Each of the eight legs was pyramidal in shape, its steeply-tapering sides forming a series of s teps or ledges, one above anothe r to the apex. The two corners of the board that he could sec had the likeness of bears’ heads, snarling, with open jaws and muzzles thrust forward. They were most life-like. Kelderek trembled and looked quickly up again.
    ‘And what ekshtra work you come give us?’ asked the young baron cheerfully. ‘Wa nt fellows repair causeway, zatti t? ’
    ‘No, my lord,’ said Numiss in a low voice. ‘This is the man who refused to tell his news to the shendron.’
    ‘Eh ?’ asked the young baron, emptying his horn and beckoning to a boy to re-fill it. ‘Man with shensh, then . No us he talking shendrons. Shtupid fellowsh. All shendrons shtupid fe llowsh, eh?’ he said to Kelderek.
    ‘My lord,’ replied Kelderek , ‘believe me, I have nothing against the shendron, but - but the matter
    ‘Can you read?’ interrupted the young baron.
    ‘Read? No, my lord.’
    ‘ Neither c’n I. Look at old Fasse l-Hasta there . What’s he reading? Who knows? You watch out; he’ll bewitch you.’
    The baron with the piece of bark turned with a frown and stared at the young man, as much as to say that he at any rate was not one to act the fool in his cups.
    ‘I’ll tell you,’ said the young baron, sliding forward from the table and landing with a jolt on the bench, ‘all ‘bout writing - one word -‘
    ‘Ta-Kominion,’ call ed a harsh voice from the furthe r room, ‘I want to speak with those