We made good time, and the cityscape of Corbell soon engulfed us.

A winding ribbon of blue, about sixty feet wide, rippled quickly pass it , save where waving white peaked salutes told of a submerged bulwark; slowing the flow inside a sort of shoreline harbor along its banks. Likely fed by the mountains to the north, the river's current coursed out of view around a westerly bend before bidding the town farewell. Built on the southern shoreline of the flow, Corbell sprawled along it, a creature of wood and water-polished stone.

I watched with interest as white sailed craft tacked into and out from quays of boulder and plank that bit into the quelled flow, where they were either being put into the water, or taken out with tackle rigged there. Probably for maintenance or repair. Nearby, slips were filled with a bobbing, tied off fleet of these, furled spars looking like a denuded forest.

A fishing pier jutted from the river bend, clotted with old men and young boys, and long wooden poles. They all faced away from me, downstream, where their lines would carry out into the current. Flat river barges and heavy-keeled fishing boats otherwise paralleled the busy frontage. Burly Porters hustled tarred bundles and barrels to and from the riverfront, to alternately feed or empty blocky warehouses that crouched along a fronting lane. Our road followed the river as we approached, but quickly turned away to wend through the town center.

To our left, a row of hostels, taverns and eateries held court, while on the right, brightly painted shops vied for the attentions of well dressed patrons, jostling along crowded streets. Open fronted stalls, wedged between the shops and laden tables, spilled out almost into the roadway. Hawking cries of merchants and a pervasive susurration of barter engulfed us.

We threaded our way through the press, moving on to the west where private residences appeared. Behind these, and dominating the city, a stand of towers rose, guarded by high block walls. This, Seth advised me, was the Duke of Wayland's compound.

Our approach went unnoticed right up to the gates of the fort, where Chord talked briefly with a brace of soldiers fronting the entrance. Both wore the same open cut garment I had seen on Sir Connor's guards, the emblem of five circled stars, and the same bright wide sashes. One of the guards turned, and at a quick trot, disappeared into the arched opening. Shortly, the man returned accompanied by none other than the good Sir Conner, who strode forward beaming.

"Ah-ha! Chord! Right on time and before dinner to boot! Well-and I see William has come, too, and the lovely Dimanda." Addressing himself to her, Sir Connor bowed saying, "Were I but two decades younger, your father would be showered in gifts, in the prosecution of my suit for your hand, as you are the brightest star in the firmament of Wayland."

"Were you much younger," laughed Dimanda, "I should be suckling at my mother's breast, and your wife would be even more wroth with you, than if she heard you now."

Sir Connor winked at me, saying, "Cruel girl, right though. So, a little travel, and sooner than you'd have thought so, as I foretold, eh, good Smith?"

"I think you had the advantage of inside intelligence, at the time, Sir." I said. "I am glad at the opportunity. Good to see you again also."

Sir Conner laughed broadly, and waved us forward, falling in step with Mage

Chord. "So, how was the trip?"

"Eventful," said Chord. "More on that later. First, I need to speak with Mage Orton, pay my respects to the Duke, and settle in."

"Be quick about it with Orton then. The Duke will want to see you as soon as he is free, I'm certain. He is quite interested in your William of Drake. Your levy is to be quartered in the North yard. I will lead your people there, and you can go pay respects to the good mage."

Chord agreed to this, and left the queue. The rest of us followed after the waving Sir Connor, rounding the left of the entrance, and crossing to the North yard. As it happened, the "North Yard" was just an open section along the inside of the north facing wall of the compound. Sir Connor announced our arrival at the site, and shouted out for the group to 'get on with it, then left us there

Everyone began to set up camp, same as they had when on the road. I followed suit, ordering Gort to unpack and stack the tools. Having brought no pavilion, as I did not own one, I left my pack, clothes-bag and bedding on the smaller cart, and sat to await Chord.

The mage had not mentioned anything about accommodations, and I, with my usual forethought, had not asked. I had some of my iron tokens with me, but I doubted they could be bartered this far from the forge. With nothing further assigned me to do, I used the time to take in the scenery, as best I might.

The Ducal estate itself consisted of three towers and a long two-story hall. The same water-stone construction I had seen in town completed the hall's first level, the second story all of wood. Two towers were attached to the front, and one more rose in the middle behind it. Each tower was easily as large as, or even larger than, Mage Chord's. It was big, but like parts of the Inn, each looked to have been built at different times. I wondered whether the hall or the towers had come first.

The towers, I decided, and each tower built at different times. Nothing looked recent, save some wood scaffolding which jutted up from behind the building, just visible from my side-on view point. It rose next to the middle tower, partially obscured by it, from where I sat.

Likely, I thought, the new tower site. The addition was obviously a major event; something that had not happened for a long time.

With half of Chord's group already settled; erected lean-to shelters dotted the north yard. There were a couple of small Pavilions, none property of our group, further away. The carts had mostly been pulled to the yard wall.

A moderate gaggle of locals milled about near the two farmers who had brought their cycles. Dimanda, approached by some servitor of the Duke, had been lead away towards the estate hall, I assumed to settle into rooms in the estate proper, where she and the mage would likely be guested.

Shortly, the still floating figure of Chord bobbed into view, accompanied by a tall, intense fellow in a blue robe. The man, gangling along with ground-eating strides, easily paced the floating Chord , so it was only moments before four hawk-sharp eyes stared down at me

As I rose, the tall thin man pointed, knitting his black brows into a knot across his forehead. "Is this the man? That blade across his back, I presume, the Corm Da?"

Chord pointed to his companion flat-handed saying, "William, this is the mage Orton. We need you to come with us."