"You had better get dressed."

  "But, Earl—"

  "And you had better do it fast." He had caught the tension in her voice.

  "Yes." She bit at her lip, conscious that she had trodden the edge of danger. Almost she had demanded the reassurance of his love. "Yes, I suppose I had. Selkas will be here soon and there's a lot to do before we go to the Council meeting. Have some breakfast if you want. Don't bother to cook anything for me, I'm too excited to eat."

  "You'll eat."

  "Bullying me, Earl?"

  "Advising. An empty stomach is no one's friend. Eat while you have the chance." He smiled. "That is traveler's philosophy, a good rule to live by when you can never be sure where the next meal is coming from. Now get dressed while I cook some food."

  Selkas arrived as he was clearing the dishes. He followed Dumarest into the kitchen and watched as he disposed of the soiled containers. "Veruchia?"

  "In the study. Alone."

  "Good, she has much to do and little time in which to do it." Selkas helped himself to a cup of tisane. "Have you anything to report?"

  Dumarest shook his head. She had sat quietly for a while after Hamane had phoned and then had gone into her study. Later, after he thought her asleep, she had come to him. He remembered her initial tension, the way she had clung to him as if seeking strength. A woman afraid, needing to restore her self-confidence.

  "Good." Selkas sipped at the tisane. "A man of many achievements," he mused. "You fight, you cook and you can act the servant. And it seems that you have a great attraction for women. Shamar called me early this morning. She wanted to know if I would use my influence to persuade you to enter her household. Naturally I told her that you were not available. However I suspect that the main reason she called was to let me know it is common knowledge that you stayed here the night."

  "You object?"

  "Certainly not. Veruchia can do as she pleases. In fact I must congratulate you on the skillful execution of your duties. How else could you take care of her should the need arise? But if she told me then she has told others. You must take extra care to protect her."

  "Protect her from what?" Dumarest looked at the modest appointments of the kitchen. "A woman alone, of no great means and no apparent position, who could possibly want to harm her?"

  Selkas raised his eyebrows. "You don't know? She hasn't told you?"

  "No. I can understand how she could be hurt by sadistic comments, but any bravo could take care of that. You promised me high pay and I assume you had a reason. But I fail to see it."

  "There are two heirs to a fortune and one is ambitious. Is that reason enough?"

  "Perhaps, if the fortune is large enough. And if the ambitious one is sure to get the other's legacy. Is it large?"

  "Very large." Selkas set down his cup, he had hardly touched the tisane. "The entire world, in fact. Veruchia stands to inherit the whole of Dradea."

  * * *

  They glided high over the city, the raft steady in the still air, a sprawling mass of streets and houses, business premises, factories, the open mouth of the arena like a gaping sore. Beyond lay neat farms and rolling countryside, hills looming on the horizon. A nice world with tremendous possibilities and she stood to gain it all.

  Dumarest watched her as she sat against the cushions. She had changed, closing in on herself, her face a mask of cold determination. No wonder that she had needed strength. He hoped that he had given it to her.

  "We shall be late," said Selkas. "Never mind. We can afford to be a little impolite for the sake of a good entrance."

  Others had the same idea. A raft landed seconds after their own and Montarg came towards them. He was smiling.

  "Veruchia, my dear, how good to see you. You are looking well. The medicine you took last night seems to agree with you. You should take more."

  Selkas said, "Enough, Montarg."

  "You find the truth unpleasant? Well, that cannot be helped. I am pleased that Veruchia has followed my advice and taken a man to her bed. She was lucky to have found one willing to cooperate. However, there is no accounting for taste."

  Dumarest stepped forward. "You will apologize. At once."

  "Apologize? To you?"

  "To the lady Veruchia."

  "And if I do not?" Montarg's eyes reflected his rage.

  "You have regular features. It would be a pity to spoil them, but if you do not apologize I shall see the color of your blood."

  Selkas said, "He means that he will break your nose, Montarg. I am sure that he will do it. I should apologize if I were you. After all, the remark was in very bad taste."

  "You ask the new Owner to apologize to a dog from the arena?"

  "You aren't that yet, Montarg. And the apology is to Veruchia, not Dumarest."

  He was not going to apologize. Dumarest could tell it and he moved a little closer as Montarg's fingers twitched at his sleeve. At the first sight of a weapon he would act, one hand gripping the wrist, the other striking at the throat.

  "Never mind, Earl." Veruchia laid her hand on his arm. "I am used to Montarg's pleasantries. And this is no time to quarrel, the Council is waiting."

  They sat at a long table, the High Tenants of Dradea, men and women both, all solemn as befitted the occasion. Dumarest watched them as he took his place in the gallery. Next to him a plump merchant sucked at a sweetmeat with liquid enjoyment.

  "This is the biggest thing I've seen," he whispered. "Chorzel ruled so long that I never thought it would ever happen. Are you interested in politics?"

  "I thought this was just a formality."

  "It should be. A man dies and his heir inherits, but it isn't as simple as that. Chorzel had no children and it is up to the Council to decide which aspirant has the better claim." He shoved another sweet into his mouth. "Are you a betting man?"

  Dumarest smiled. "I've been known to gamble."

  "I'll give you two to one on Montarg. Is it a bet?"

  "Do you think he'll win?"

  "I hope not, but I'm afraid he will." The plump man craned forward over the rail as an usher called for silence. "Well, here we go."

  Andreas was the Chairman. He stood, old and dressed in somber fabrics, his dry voice rustling through the chamber.

  "This meeting of the Council was summoned by Selkas. Are there any objections?"

  It was ritual; no one could possibly object.

  "Chorzel is dead. Dradea is without an Owner. The custody of the planet resides with the Council until we determine the lawful heir."

  A man said, "There is no doubt as to his death?"

  More ritual, but the correct procedures had to be followed.

  "None. The physician Hamane and three others have signed sworn testimony and the corpse has been viewed by seven members of this assembly. Their statements and names are on record." He paused and took a sip of water. "We are faced with an unprecedented situation. Chorzel died childless. He was the eldest of three brothers and inherited in the normal manner. The other two brothers, twins, each had one child, Veruchia and Montarg. Each lays claim to the inheritance."

  Lounging in her chair at the foot of the long table Shamar said, "Surely one must have the greater right?"

  "That is what we are here to determine. Montarg?"

  He rose, tall and arrogant, jewels making bright glimmers on fingers and throat. He said, "As my father and that of Veruchia were twins the question of precedence does not arise. However I am older than she by a year and so have the greater claim."

  "Veruchia?"

  "Admitting that Montarg is the eldest I still have the greater right. My mother was in direct line of descent from the First Owner."

  "That is a lie!"

  "Montarg!" Andreas slammed his hand on the table. "How dare you raise your voice in Council?"

  "It is still a lie. Lisa was of the family Chron. Everyone knows that the name of the First Owner was Dikarn." His shrug was contemptuous. "It shows how weak is her claim that she has to rely on a thing so false."

  "Not so." Pezia rose to his feet. "Chron was the First Owner. If her mother was in direct descent then she has made her case. Veruchia should be the next Owner of Dradea."

  "Dikarn was the First!"

  "No, Chron!"

  Dumarest heard the plump man give a soft whistle as a storm rose in the chamber. "Well, this beats the arena hands down. Wait until I tell the wife! See Montarg? If looks could kill Veruchia would be dead. What a battle!"

  "I don't understand. What's it all about?"

  "It's an old argument, but I never thought it would come to this. When the First Ship landed the owner, naturally, claimed the planet as his own property. Most think that his name was Dikarn and every Owner since then has claimed the right by direct descent. Fair enough, but there is a strong rumor that Dikarn wasn't the true owner at all but that Chron was the real claimant. It hasn't mattered up till now because no one has been in a strong enough position to argue. If Chorzel had had a child, for example, this couldn't have happened. But he didn't and Montarg and Veruchia are running neck and neck. He is the oldest, but a lot of people would rather see Veruchia inherit. With things so close they're doing their best to see she does."

  "Do you think she will?"

  "I doubt it. Montarg has the edge. They may not like him but they can't dismiss his claim. And you know how it is, there are always those ready to back the winning side." He grunted as the clamor died. "I hope she wins."

  Andreas rose from his seat at the head of the table. He was shaking with anger and his voice echoed his disgust.

  "In all my years as Chairman I have never seen such a spectacle as I have been forced to witness. You are the High Tenants of Dradea and, at this time, the custodians of the welfare of this world. The matter we have to determine is too grave to permit such emotional behavior."

  Montarg snapped, "We can do without your speeches. I demand that my claim be recognized."

  "Montarg forgets himself." Selkas rose, his voice silky. "He is not yet the Owner and I will be frank, I hope that he never is. His conduct at this assembly has left much to be desired. On the other hand Veruchia has shown herself capable of restraint under extreme provocation. As she can claim direct descent from the First Owner of her mother's side then I suggest that we allow her to inherit."

  He glanced around the table. Now? There would never be a better time. "Shall we put it to the vote?"

  "I protest!" Montarg was quick to recognize the danger. "Selkas is playing on the emotions of those present. The inheritance is not decided on the basis of popularity but of fact. I have the facts on my side. I am the eldest I should inherit."

  "But if her mother was descended from Chron then she has the right."

  Montarg sneered. "If? Have you any proof that Chron is more than a legend? Are we to give value to folklore?"

  "I can prove it," said Veruchia. "Give me time and I will."

  Andreas relaxed. He had been tense, afraid of putting matters to the vote, knowing that unless the Council were of a mind any such decision could only lead to later trouble. Once before, a century ago, there had almost been civil war. Then a younger brother had collected a cabal and only the swift employment of an assassin had prevented the danger. But the girl had shown him the way out.

  "We are heated," he said, and, with a sharp glance at Montarg, "I do not intend to make a speech. However, in all fairness to both aspirants and for the good of Dradea I announce that this assembly be adjourned for a period of one hundred days. Unless Veruchia can provide proof that she is in direct line of the First Owner then Montarg will inherit." His hand fell heavily on the table. "This session is over."

  * * *

  Selkas said, "Things have turned out badly, Earl. Now, more than before, Veruchia needs protection."

  "You fear assassination?" Dumarest glanced at the closed door of the study. She had remained silent all the way home, running into her room as soon as they arrived. To cry, he thought, to find release in the woman's anodyne of tears. "Montarg? Two can play at that game."

  "It wouldn't do any good. Montarg has a child and he would inherit."

  "Would the Council allow it if Veruchia was to die?"

  "They would have little choice. She must be kept close and watched at all times. It would be better if she were to go off-world. Would you travel with her, Earl?"

  "There's nothing to hold me on Dradea."

  "No, I suppose not. Well, let us see if she agrees."

  She hadn't been crying. She sat at her desk behind a litter of papers, frowning as she studied graphs and writings. "Selkas, help yourself to brandy. You too, Earl." She accepted the glass he placed in her hand. "A hundred days. It isn't long."

  "It will pass." Selkas looked at the papers. "Tidying up, Veruchia? It is just as well. There's no point in leaving loose ends around when you leave."

  "Leave?"

  "I think it best that you take passage to some other world."

  "Why?"

  "You can't inherit. I know that many of the Council are with you but Montarg still has the right on his side. I had hoped that your own claim would receive greater acceptance, but you saw how things went. Andreas did the best he could but a hundred days is the maximum period the Council can delay. Montarg will be the new Owner at the end of that time."

  "I'm not leaving," she said. "And Montarg will not inherit. Not if I can find the necessary proof."

  "Does it exist?"

  "Maybe not," she admitted. "But I feel sure that it does. All we have to do is to find it."

  Selkas frowned. "Where?"

  "In the First Ship."

  He made a soft noise, something between a grunt and a sigh, a sound composed of disbelief and pity. "Veruchia, are you serious? Do you honestly expect to locate and excavate that old vessel? If it exists at all. Girl, the thing is beyond all reason."

  "You talk without thinking, Selkas. We settled this world, correct? We must have come here in a ship, correct? That ship is said to still remain on Dradea, correct? Right, now give me one good reason why we can't find it?"

  "Because it's lost. Because no one knows where it could be."

  Dumarest said, "If it wasn't lost there would be no need to find it."

  Selkas ignored the comment. Setting down his glass he began to pace the floor, his face concerned. "Veruchia, this is madness. Aside from anything else you haven't the time to search this planet for a thing so small. And, for another, you haven't the money."

  "I will have when Montarg pays what he owes. And you misjudge me. I've been working on this for years. I've a good idea where the ship is to be found." Paper rustled as she jerked maps from a drawer and threw them on the desk. They were covered with little marks, crosses and checks in red and black, circles and squares. "These are places I've checked in the past. Old settlements, mostly, some deposits of rubbish and a few discarded workings. This is a mass of iron ore and this an underground stream. I tried to retrace the progress of the original settlers. We know there was a city to the north which is now covered with ice. The climate is constantly altering and there was, and is, considerable volcanic activity."

  "Well?"

  "Let us imagine what must have happened. The First Ship landed and we know there was trouble at that time. The settlers would have had to take steps to survive, choose a place to build and so on. After a generation or so the ship would have lost its importance. Then, maybe, something happened, an earthquake, perhaps. The people had to move and start again. After a while they would have forgotten the location of the ship. How long does it take, Selkas, for memories to fade? Three hundred years, five, a thousand?"

  She looked at Dumarest as he made no comment.

  "What do you think, Earl? You've lost a planet—is it so strange that a planet could lose a ship?"

  "No, Veruchia."

  "I can find it," she said. "I know that I can and in it will be the proof I need to prove my right to inherit this world."

  "You can't be sure of that, Veruchia." Selkas halted his pacing. "I think you're clinging to a dream. You could squander a fortune and end with nothing."

  "Earl?" She stepped from behind the desk and came towards him, halting, lifting her hands to rest on his chest. "Advise me, Earl. You spend your life searching for a forgotten world. I want to spend a hundred days looking for a ship. You gamble your life for a little money. I want to spend a little money in order to win an entire planet. Am I so wrong?"

  The odds were right and he had gambled too often for some of the lure not to have entered his blood. Yet it was not for him to guide her decision.

  "You must do as you think best, Veruchia."

  "I do what I must." If she were disappointed at his lack of support she didn't show it. "I don't think Montarg will be good for this world and I don't think any decent person will want to see what he does with it. Perhaps I can prevent that, at least I must try. Will you help me, Selkas?"

  His urbanity had returned. Smiling he picked up his brandy. "How can I refuse? I'll see that Montarg pays what he owes and do anything else you require."

  "And you, Earl?"

  Her eyes were pleading, hurt dimming their brightness as he hesitated. Womanlike she could only think of one reason for his slowness.

  "I'm sorry. It seems that I ask too much."

  "It isn't that. I hadn't intended to stay long on Dradea and I should be on my way."

  Taking ship, moving on to some other world to earn the price of a passage, moving again in order to lose himself among the stars and to continue his search for the world he needed to find. But she would never be able to understand. He saw the movement of her hand as it rose as if to touch her face, then lowered with conscious effort.

  "Veruchia." He caught the hand and pressed it, the strength of his fingers hard against the flesh. "Come with me. Do as Selkas advises. There are a thousand worlds on which to find happiness."

  "Earl!" For a moment she wavered and then, blinking at the smarting of her eyes, firmly shook her head. "You will never know what it meant to me to hear you say that. But I can't, Earl. Not yet. Not until I have tried to find the First Ship. A world, Earl. An entire planet for us to share if I win and a hundred days lost if I lose." Then quietly, she added, "It is a very old vessel, Earl. Very old. Who knows what it may contain? Something to help you, perhaps. Information on the place you seek."