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vertically for fifteen meters and more, solid gray and black rock and masonry.
Wannome had its share of craftsmen, Ethan reflected, and not only smiths.
Two lancers flanked the sides of the bridge entrance. They wore coats of
inscribed tooled leather with shields of leather and worked bronze. Each carried
a slim, steel-tipped spear. The helmets had openings for the ears, and a
nose-piece down the center. They swept out and down in a backside flare to
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protect the neck.
The young tran who met them just inside the high gate was garbed in similar
fashion. Only his leather was inlaid with silver in sharp relief and he wore a
sword much like Hunnar's strapped to one leg. Also, his helmet was- made from
silver-inlaid leather and had imitation silver flames worked along the crest. A
four-square gray patch, a tiny double of the pennant at the pier, was sewn over
his left breast.
He arrived panting for breath. "The Landgrave bids you to him quick."
Sir Hunnar frowned; made a half turn to Ethan. "Not good. I hope we haven't
gotten you off on his Lordship's bad side." He glared over at September as
though that worthy were personally responsible for any forthcoming dire
consequence. September whistled cheerfully and smiled back.
"Now I must ponder on a fair excuse," Hunnar muttered.
"Why not tell him the truth?" queried September as they followed the
garishly-clad herald across a courtyard. "That I stopped to buy myself a coat
because I was freezing to death?
"On a day like today, of pleasing warmth? No, even I still cannot realize that
you are used to living in fire itself. But to confess that you stopped to
converse with a tailor before the Landgrave himself ... ?" Hunnar looked
horrifed. "No, no! He would have you all spitted out of hand."
"Easier said than done," replied September, unmoved. "Be-sides, if I'd frozen
solid I wouldn't have presented much in the way of available conversation, would
I?"
"There is that," admitted Hunnar seriously. "His Lordship does appreciate
candor. We'll see. He may be so curious about you he will forget to be
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insulted."
They passed through another small open area. Ethan noticed a smith taking the
dents out of a bronze shield in a glowing cubby off to their right. The
attraction was in the fire. A few soldiers leaned idly at arms to the side of
another door, a far cry from the ramrod-straight troops they'd encountered at
the drawbridge entrance. Another bunch were seated in the shade playing what
appeared to be a variant of the uni-versal game-dice.
They entered the inner keep, walked through a long hall to a wide staircase.
Up they went, then a turn, then up another. They'd gone halfway up the second
when there was a sudden squeal of surprise from behind. For a second Ethan
thought they'd lost Colette. But she'd only strayed too far to the center and
stepped onto the gleaming ice path. From there it was a short but fast slide
back to the bottom step. His dignity and one other part were bruised, but there
was no lingering damage.
After remounting the stairs their guide made a hard left. They passed another
set of ubiquitous guards. Then a right turn down another hallway, and another,
and they entered a long, vaulted hall. A group of three trap awaited them at its
far end. To one side a great fire blazed in a huge fireplace. The temperature in
here might even be slightly above freezing, Ethan reflected.
"No, I shall announce you," the herald cautioned. He strode off down the tong,
brightly dyed rug that covered the bare stone floor. There was a seemingly
endless table to each side, with chairs and odd writhing candlesticks.
"Remember," Hunnar whispered to Ethan as they walked slowly behind the herald,
"he's tough and stringy, but not vi-cious. Not intentionally so, anyway. I'm
told we've had harder rulers. At least he's not an idiot, like his
half-brother."
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"Will we get to meet this half-brother?" asked Williams clinically.
"Not unless you've even stranger means of transport than your metal ship. When
his fault became obvious, he was put to death."
"Dear me," replied the schoolmaster, taken aback. "That seems rather extreme."
"Our way," said Hunnar simply.
"This is an extreme world," added September. "Woo don't get supported by others
here, what?" Then he spoke to Ethan. "Take your time, young Teller, and say what
you think best."
The herald had stopped ahead of them. Now he turned and boomed, "Sir Hunnar
Redbeard, Squire Suaxus-dal-Jagger, and Squire Budjir Hotahg, with the party of
outlanders!"
"Outlanders?" September looked askance at the knight.
"'That is what they've been calling you," Hunnar replied. "For lack of a better
term. Slowly now; watch me."
They followed the knight the last dozen meters. Ethan had a moment to scan those
awaiting them. Then Sir Hunnar boated low, crossing his arms over his head and
covering himself with his wings. They all imitated the movement as best they
could, not rising until the knight had done so.
"My lord," he began, "these folk crave mercy for intruding open the province of
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