He said: "The _Knife_ is the fastest ship in the raider fleet--and a crew that will raid with Tas Karrel would spit in _rey_ Gundre's own eye!" Still, for a moment, the silence hung upon them. Then, slowly at first, but rising, a ripple of wry, bleak laughter ran through the crowd. He knew that he had them, then. He leaned forward ... let his voice drop to a confidential note. "What does a raider want most, my comrades? Loot? _Kabat?_ Women--?" He grinned again, as he said 'women', and lifted a hand to dark Sais' velvet shoulder. She twisted. The laughter rippled louder. Jarl planted his foot on a chair; rested elbow on knee. "Yes, we all want them, my comrades. But"--he dropped his voice still lower--"so do other men." The raiders crowded closer, craning and straining to hear him. "Then where's the difference, between us and those others--?" Abruptly, he straightened and brought up his fist. He threw his words at them, in a fierce, ringing challenge: "The difference--? I'll tell you, comrades! It's not loot that we raid for, nor _kabat_, nor women; not really! It's freedom we are after--the freedom to roam the void as free men should, and to hell with the thrice-cursed tyrants of the Federation!" Now the crewmen, too, shouted, in wild exultation. The din echoed and deafened. "Are you with me--?" Jarl roared. But the _Pervod_ leaped forward. "You dogs! What of Karrel?" The shouting died down. Again all eyes came to Jarl Corvett. He held the smile on his face. "Yes. What of Tas Karrel?" The _Pervod's_ claws crept towards his gun-butt. The bony wings whispered in the sudden stillness. Very softly, Jarl said, "There's the law of the raiders. A chieftain must meet any man who dares challenge." And then: "You, _Pervod_! Will you fight hand-to-hand for Tas Karrel?" The reptilian's eyes glinted. His claws touched the ray-gun. Scorn rang in Jarl's laugh. "I said hand-to-hand, by the law of the raiders! I came here unarmed, to fight Karrel to the death for his chiefship!" A low mutter rose from the crewmen. The _Pervod's_ eyes wavered. Jarl said: "Know my pledge, comrades! Not booty, but freedom! If you blast with me, we may all die on Womar. If that doesn't suit you, kill me now, before I meet Karrel!" The _Pervod_ lieutenant's eyes sought out the crewmen. They shifted, not speaking. Jarl laughed without mirth. "You see, _chitza_--? They want blood--mine, or Tas Karrel's!" The reptilian looked away--past Jarl, to the doorway. His claws were atremble. Then, visibly, he stiffened. Jarl spun around. * * * * * Tas Karrel himself stood framed in the entry. His tiny, round, lidless eyes flamed green murder. "You _starbo_--!" Tas Karrel, the mutant. Broad, tall, heavy-bodied. Hairy as a _dau_, and with a _dau's_ bulging muscles. But his face was the blank, hairless face of the _Fantay_ ... without nose, without cheekbones.