The Keeper, by Henry Beam Piper 
 
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Title: The Keeper 
Author: Henry Beam Piper 
Release Date: September 20, 2006 [EBook #19338] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ASCII 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE KEEPER *** 
 
Produced by Greg Weeks, Sankar Viswanathan, and the Online Distributed Proofreading 
Team at http://www.pgdp.net 
 
Transcriber's Note: 
This etext was produced from Venture Science Fiction, July 1957. Extensive research did 
not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. 
 
[Illustration: Frontispiece] 
 
Evil men had stolen his treasure, and Raud set out with his deer rifle and his great dog 
Brave to catch the thieves before they could reach the Starfolk. That the men had 
negatron pistols meant little--Raud was the Keeper.... 
 
THE KEEPER
by H. BEAM PIPER 
* * * * * 
 
When he heard the deer crashing through brush and scuffling the dead leaves, he stopped 
and stood motionless in the path. He watched them bolt down the slope from the right 
and cross in front of him, wishing he had the rifle, and when the last white tail vanished 
in the gray-brown woods he drove the spike of the ice-staff into the stiffening ground and 
took both hands to shift the weight of the pack. If he'd had the rifle, he could have shot 
only one of them. As it was, they were unfrightened, and he knew where to find them in 
the morning. 
Ahead, to the west and north, low clouds massed; the white front of the Ice-Father 
loomed clear and sharp between them and the blue of the distant forests. It would snow, 
tonight. If it stopped at daybreak, he would have good tracking, and in any case, it would 
be easier to get the carcasses home over snow. He wrenched loose the ice-staff and 
started forward again, following the path that wound between and among and over the 
irregular mounds and hillocks. It was still an hour's walk to Keeper's House, and the 
daylight was fading rapidly. 
Sometimes, when he was not so weary and in so much haste, he would loiter here, 
wondering about the ancient buildings and the long-vanished people who had raised them. 
There had been no woods at all, then; nothing but great houses like mountains, piling up 
toward the sky, and the valley where he meant to hunt tomorrow had been an arm of the 
sea that was now a three days' foot-journey away. Some said that the cities had been 
destroyed and the people killed in wars--big wars, not squabbles like the fights between 
sealing-companies from different villages. He didn't think so, himself. It was more likely 
that they had all left their homes and gone away in starships when the Ice-Father had 
been born and started pushing down out of the north. There had been many starships, 
then. When he had been a boy, the old men had talked about a long-ago time when there 
had been hundreds of them visible in the sky, every morning and evening. But that had 
been long ago indeed. Starships came but seldom to this world, now. This world was old 
and lonely and poor. Like poor lonely old Raud the Keeper. 
He felt angry to find himself thinking like that. Never pity yourself, Raud; be proud. That 
was what his father had always taught him: "Be proud, for you are the Keeper's son, and 
when I am gone, you will be the Keeper after me. But in your pride, be humble, for what 
you will keep is the Crown." 
The thought of the Crown, never entirely absent from his mind, wakened the anxiety that 
always slept lightly if at all. He had been away all day, and there were so many things 
that could happen. The path seemed longer, after that; the landmarks farther apart. Finally, 
he came out on the edge of the steep bank, and looked down across the brook to the 
familiar low windowless walls and sharp-ridged roof of Keeper's House; and when he
came, at last, to the door, and pulled the latchstring, he heard the dogs inside--the soft, 
coughing bark of Brave, and the anxious little whimper of Bold--and he knew that there 
was nothing wrong in Keeper's House. 
The room inside was lighted by a fist-sized chunk of lumicon, hung in a net bag of thongs 
from the rafter over the table. It was old--cast off by some rich Southron as past its best 
brilliance, it    
    
		
	
	
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