The Ship Who Won by Anne McCaffrey, Jody Lynn Nye Page A

faces expressionless underneath the fur
    masks, the children openly awestruck. Cautiously, Keff
    raised his other hand away from his body so they could see
    it, and smiled.
    'They're not afraid of you, Keff," Carialle said, monitoring the Noble Primitives' vital signs. "In fact, they're not
    even surprised. Now that's odd!"
    "Why does one of the mages come to us?" Alteis said,
    worriedly, as the stranger approached them, showing his
    teeth. "What have we done wrong? We have kept up with
    the harvest. All proceeds on schedule. The roots are nearly
    all harvested. They are of good quality."
    Brannel snorted, a sharp breath ruffling the fur on his
    upper Bp, and turned an uncaring shoulder toward the oldster. Old Alteis was so afraid of the mages that he would do
    himself an injury one day if the overlords were really dis-pleased. He stared at the approaching mage. The male was
    shorter man he, but possessed of a mighty build and an
    assured, cocky walk. Unusual for a mage, his hands showed
    that they were not unacquainted with hard work. The outthrust of the cleft chin showed that he knew his high place,
    and yet his dark, peaty blue eyes were full of good humor.
    Brannel searched his memory, but was certain he had
    never encountered this overlord before.
    "He is one we do not know," Brannel said quickly in an
    undertone out of the side of his mouth. "Perhaps he is here
    to tell us he is our new master."
    "Klemay is our master," Alteis said, his ruff and mustache indignantly erect on his leathery face.
    "But Klemay has not been seen for a month," Brannel
    said. '1 saw the fire in the mountains, I told you. Since
    then, no power has erupted from Klemay's peak."
    "Perhaps this one serves Klemay," Mrana, mate of
    Alteis, suggested placatingly. Surreptitiously, she brushed
    the worst of the dust off the face of one of her children.
    None of them looked their best at harvest time when little
    effort could be wasted on mere appearance. The overlord
    must understand that.
    "Servers serve," Brannel snorted. "No overlord serves
    another but those of the Five Points. Klemay was not a
    high mage."
    "Do not speak of things you do not understand," Alteis
    said, as alarmed as that foolish male ever became. 'The
    mages will hear you."
    'The mages are not listening," Brannel said.
    Alteis was about to discipline him further, but the
    overlord was within hearing range now. The stranger came
    closer and stopped a couple of paces away. All the workers
    bowed their heads, shooting occasional brief glances at the
    visitor. Alteis stepped forward to meet him and bowed low.
    ''What is your will, lord?" he asked.
    Instead of answering him directly, the mage picked up
    the box that hung around his neck and pushed it nearly
    underneath Alteiss chin. He spoke to the leader at some
    length. Though Brannel listened carefully, the words
    meant nothing. Alteis waited, then repeated his words
    clearly in case the overlord had not understood him. The
    mage smiled, head tilted to one side, uncomprehending.
    "What may I and my fellow workers do to serve you,
    exalted one?" Brannel asked, coming forward to stand
    beside Alteis. He, too, bowed low to show respect,
    although the germ of an idea was beginning to take shape
    in his mind. He tilted his chin down only the barest
    respectable fraction so he could study the visitor.
    The male fiddled with the small box on his breast, which
    emitted sounds. He spoke over it, possibly reciting an
    incantation. That was not unusual; all the overlords Brannel had ever seen talked to themselves sometimes. Many
    objects of power were ranged about this ones strongly
    built form. Yet he did not appear to understand the language of the people, nor did he speak it. He hadn't even
    acknowledged Brannel s use of mage-talk, which had been
    cleverly inserted into his query.
    Puzzled, Brannel wrinkled his forehead. His fellow
    servers stayed at a respectful distance, showing proper fear
    and respect to one of the great overlords. They