Thor stood up and kicked the plank into place. He filled his lungs with crisp air. He knew what he must do. He had to learn all he could about Aava. If Gordon and the others could not help him—
There was always the Discoverer!
Thor dropped over the longboat side and went striding off into the grasslands.
It was night when he found the campfire, Karola came running, hearing his shout, her yellow hair streaming behind her. Thor caught her, held her close. He thought of Stalyl, and there was remorse and tenderness in his kiss.
She felt his mood. Head tilted, she looked at him and whispered, "What is it? Where did you get that axe? And your eyes—there is a little sorrow in them. Why, Thor?"
"I will tell you, darling. But I must tell the others, too. I want Gordon's advice."
Gordon wrung his hand and then held out some cooked meat on the point of a sword. Thor was famished. He sat with legs crossed before him and ate and ate. Karola sat close to him, watching him with her large violet eyes. Once in a while she touched the great war-axe, running the pink tips of her fingers along the fresh scratches on the steel.
Thor dug his greasy fingers into the sand, powdering them; then he rubbed them dry.
"I talked to Aava," he said slowly. "He came into the gatestone that I carried. He tempted me. I—almost yielded."