He tried to explain. “Because when it snows, it is really warmer. Too cold a night…” he didn’t finish that sentence, but encircled Dessie with a tong arm and drew her back under the shelter with him. She wriggled about, settling herself more comfortably, then she jerked upright again.
“Someone’s coming!” her whisper was warm on his cheek.
He had heard that too, the faint creak of a foot on the icy coated snow. And his hand closed about the haft of his knife.
3. THE CLEFT DWELLERS
HE WAS A SMALL MAN, the newcomer, and Dard overtopped him by four inches or more. And that gave the boy confidence enough to pull out of the shelter. He watched the stranger come confidently on, as though he knew just how many steps lay between himself and some goal. His clothing, what could be seen of it in the fast deepening dusk, was as ragged and patched as Dard’s own. This was no landsman or Peaceman scout. Only one who did not hold all the important “confidence cards” would go about so unkempt. Which meant that he was an “unreliable,” almost as much an outlaw as a techneer or a scientist
The newcomer stopped abruptly in front of the tree. But he did not raise his hand to the hollow, instead he studied the tracks left by Lotta. But finally he shrugged and reached into the hole.
Dard moved and the other whirled in a half-crouch. There was the gleam of teeth in his bearded face, and another glint—of bare metal—in his hand.
But he made no sound and it was Dard who broke the quiet.
“I am Dard Nordis—”
“So?…” The single word was lengthened to approximate a reptile’s hiss.