At a word from the tall warrior in the bow of the leading canoe from the warriors paddled slowly nearer the drifting hulk, and as they approached the ship’s waist Tanar and Stellara descended to the main deck, which was now almost awash, so deep the ship rode because of the water in her hold, and as the canoe drifted alongside, the warriors, with the exception of a couple, laid down their paddles and stood ready with their bone-tipped spears.
Now the two upon the ship’s deck and the tall warrior in the canoe stood almost upon the same level and face to face. The latter was a smooth-faced man with finely molded features and clear, gray eyes that bespoke intelligence and courage. He was gazing intently at Stellara, as though he would search her very soul for proof of the veracity or falsity of her statements. Presently he spoke.
“You might well be her daughter,” he said; “the resemblance is apparent.”
“You knew my mother?” exclaimed Stellara.
“I am Vulhan. You have heard her speak of me?”
“My mother’s brother!” exclaimed Stellara, with deep emotion, but there was no answering emotion in the manner of the Amiocap warrior. “My father, where is he? Is he alive?”
“That is the question,” said Vulhan, seriously. “Who is your father! Your mother was stolen by a Korsar. If the Korsar is your father, you are a Korsar.”
“But he is not my father. Take me to my own father—although he has never seen me he will know me and I shall know him.”
“It will do no harm,” said a warrior who stood close to Vulhan. “If the girl is a Korsar we shall know what to do with her.”
“If she is the spawn of the Korsar who stole Allara, Vulhan and Fedol will know how to treat her,” said Vulhan savagely.