* * *
The last of the river guards was carried out, head dangling limply fromthe arms of one of the bearers. Bel Menstal sat back in his chair,frowning. Abruptly, he turned on his steward.
"None of them knew a thing," he snarled. "None of them. There'ssomething funny going on here."
The steward's face was drawn. Dizzying forces had assailed him, and hehad almost collapsed several times during the questioning. He tried togather his hazy thoughts. Too many kept coming too fast.
"Yes, Excellency," he agreed. "Maybe it _is_ witchcraft."
Bel Menstal's face darkened. "Nonsense," he growled, rising part way outof his chair. "Witchcraft be damned! There's some explanation to this,and I'm going to find out what it is."
"Yes, Excellency."
The Baron looked up, then stared contemptuously at his man.
"Yes, Excellency," he mimicked in a singsong voice. "Always 'Yes,Excellency.' Haven't you an idea of your own?"
"Yes, Excellency, I----"
"Inept fool! There's an explanation to this, I tell you. And peasantsuperstition has no part in it. You should have found it. But no! Youcame, dragging a whole detachment of guards in for me to question. Me,the Baron! I have to do all the work--all the thinking. I tell you, Iwant men about me who can think and act."
He got out of his chair and circled the table, striding close to thesteward.
"I'll give you one more chance, Weron. Go out and find what happened tothat money. I don't care how you do it, and I'm not going to be botheredwith your petty details. But find out where that money has gone. Is thatsimple enough for you to understand?"
"Yes, Excellency." Weron backed toward the door. "I'll----"
Reckless fury shook Florel. Suddenly, he felt an irresistible cravingfor direct, violent action. He picked a dagger from his belt.
"You're not only a fool," he shouted, "but a spineless one, as well. Ithink I'll have to get another steward. A good one." He raised thedagger, then paused.
"Here, weakling. You'd like to use this, wouldn't you? But you lack thewill. That's why you're a mere lackey." Abruptly, he threw the weapon atWeron.
"Try it, fool. Try it, and see how a real man protects himself."
He stalked toward the steward.
The man cringed away, then, pressed by his master, suddenly sobbed withrage. He raised the dagger. Bel Menstal, protected by his body shield,brushed the stroke aside.
"Ha!" He snatched the weapon. "You would try it?"
Weron threw his arms before him, trying to ward off the blows, thenslumped as the blade sank into his flesh.
Bel Menstal struck the sagging body a few more times with the dagger,then threw the weapon on top of the inert form.
"Ho, Guards," he shouted, flinging the door open.
He went back to his chair and watched as the guards came in. Inobedience to his gesture, they carried the one-time steward from theroom. The door closed, and Bel Menstal was alone. Slowly, thestimulation of the encounter faded, and he shook his head.
It had been pleasant for a few minutes, he thought, but he had solvednothing.
Could it be that searchers from his native land had at last found him?He frowned. No, they wouldn't use some devious method, even supposingthey could find some way of corrupting his household. They would simplyexpose him and accuse him before the Duke. They'd storm his castle ifnecessary, to take him by force. This was something else. He would haveto think. He put his elbows on the table, cupping his face in his hands.
* * * * *
The great market square at Orieano was crowded. Colorful tents hid mostof the cobblestones, and the rest of the pavement was obscured from viewby the droves of people. Merchants and their assistants hovered about,each endeavoring to outdo the rest in enticing the swarming crowd intohis tent. Jugglers and mountebanks competed for attention, outdoing eventhemselves in their efforts to gain the ears, the eyes, and the coins ofthe mob of bargain hunters.
At one side of the square, the cattle mart was drawing many, wholistened to the noise of the beasts and the shouts of the vendors. Somepaused to bargain. Others simply strode about, still looking for thethings they had come to seek out. Here and there, a cutpurse slunkthrough the crowd, seeking his own type of bargain--an unwary victim.
The Duke of Dwerostel rode into the market, conscious of a buzz whichrose to a loud hum. The bellowing of beasts, the cries of vendors, thescuffling of many feet, all blended into one great sound--the voice ofthe fair.
The Duke listened contentedly. Here, he thought, was activity. Here, hischamberlain would find the things he had been ordered to get that thecomfort of the castle might be furthered. And here was a certainty oftolls and taxes, which would enrich the duchy.
He continued at the head of his retinue, through the center of thesquare. Time enough to take close note of the market later. Now, hewished to get to the castle of Orieano, where he would take refreshmentafter his trip.
He looked up at the heights above the town. Pennants were flying fromthe stone battlements. And he could see the tiny figures of the guard.His presence in the town had certainly been noted. He rode to the otherside of the square, and led his company up the steep, winding road tothe castle's town gate.
The sentries grounded their pikes and stood rigidly as the ducal escortrode through the gate, the pennons on their lances flying with thebreeze of their passage. The ducal party swept through the outer ward,through the inner wall, and came to a halt before the keep.
The Baron of Orieano waited before his keep. He came forward, bowing lowbefore his liege, then steadied a stirrup as the Duke dismounted. Hewaved toward the dinning hall.
"Your Excellency will grace us with his presence at meat?"
The Duke gestured to a page, who took the charger's reins to guide thebeast away.
"It would be pleasing to us," he said.
He nodded graciously and followed his vassal into the hall. He nodded inapproval at the long tables, waited until the clanging of the welcomingsalute subsided, and went to the elevated table set for his use and thatof his Baron.
He sat down, looking over the company. A glint of gold caught his eye,and he looked curiously at two men who sat a little way down the table.
These two were elegantly turned out, their long cloaks thrown back toexpose richly embroidered cloth. The Duke examined them closely.Obviously, here was one of the great western nobles, with an almostequally noble companion. The golden circlet proclaimed the identity ofone, and the proud bearing and rich dress of both confirmed theirstation. Somehow, the Duke thought, these two presented a far moreimposing appearance than his vassal, the Baron Bel Menstal, despite thatBaron's overwhelming personality.
He thought of his hard fighting border protector. Of course, he had farto come, and the way through the mountains could be difficult. But itwas a little strange he was not yet here.
The Duke remembered some of the resentful gazes he had noted during hispassage through the fair. He must have words, he decided, with BelMenstal. Possibly the man was a little too eager to collect his road andriver taxes. Possibly this hard man of his was too hard, too grasping.Of course, he held a valuable bastion against the tribes of theAjerical, but----
He shrugged away his thoughts and devoted his attention to the dishesbefore him.
* * * * *
As the Duke took up his food, the waiting company commenced reaching fordishes. Konar turned toward Meinora with a slight smile.
_"Got 'em well trained, hasn't he?"_
_"That he has. Another note for our cultural information."_
_"When do you want me to talk to him?"_
_"After he's finished his main courses and got a few cups of wine inhim. Our boy'll be delayed for a while, you know. We've plenty of timeto let Orieano fill the Duke in before Bel Menstal arrives."_
Klion Meinora turned his attention to the trencher before him for amoment, then looked toward his companion again.
_"Notice the girl sitting by the Baron?"_
_"You mean Orieano's daughter?"_
_"Precisely. Don't give her any cause for fear. Don't even make asudden move in her presence."_
_"You mean----?"_
_"I do. She could become Lady Death, if she got frightened."_
Konar looked toward the elevated table. The girl looked harmless enough.She was slender, attractive, even delicate looking. But he remembered ahorror-distorted face, a mind-shattering scream, and a blinding flash oflight. He shuddered a little and turned his attention to his food.
* * * * *
Florel Bel Menstal strode into the hall, looking toward the table head.The Duke, he noted, was still at table, though he had finished his meal.Now, he
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