I followed the pair, keeping my eyes moving as we trod. Everywhere, people were at work. Our walk took us past the new tower construction, where men were grading the land around it to provide the slight pitch that would drain rainfall away from the already laid foundation. Flat bladed shovels chinked and sang as workers heaved their loads of gravel and earth. Stout men, bare to the waist, and sweating, trundled barrows laden with fill for the shovelers, while a few supervisors shouted orders. Twisting our way across the broken ground, we headed toward the entrance of the middle tower beyond the work site.

As we approached, Chord turned as if to speak to me, but Mage Orton made a quick gesture with one hand, and silenced him."Wait until we are in my keep."

This tower, like Chord's, wound its staircase in a widdershins spiral hard against the outer wall, so that room doorways opened to the left as we climbed. The edifice stood free, set away from the main building by fourteen feet or so, at least, longer than a man would care to jump. We climbed to the topmost room. Since the stairs ended here, the floor expanded right to the outer tower walls, making it, doubtless, one of the largest in the structure.

Tall windows punctured the whitened walls to the east and west, providing more abundant light than any of the lower rooms would have access to. I noticed that despite their size, these were not glassed in, but had sturdy shutters cunningly rigged to close out drafts and inclement weather according to the owner's preference. Where Chord's rooms were comfortable, if sparse, this space was elegant and well appointed. Expensive rugs of finely carded white, orange and brown wool plushed the floor. It felt strange under foot, after all the time I had spent treading on dirt and rock. High quality carved tables and chairs were scattered everywhere. Bookcases curved along the northern and southern sides from floor to ceiling, filled with thin hide scrolls, carefully separated bundles of vellum and even some tablets of stone. The wealth of strange shaped albumics and retorts, balance scales, mortars and such as cluttered Chord's workroom were absent, though a large brass telescope did front one of the windows.

"My study," noted Orton, indicating an oval table near at hand. "Please sit. You have little time, and I have much to tell you."

I did as bidden. Mage Orton sat, and said, "I have discussed your situation with Mage Chord, and we will talk of this further at another time, but there are a few things you must know immediately. About this coincidence concerning Mage Veddek's assistant, MaCaan. Be aware that MaCaan has returned to us. Veddek brought him here, as part of his retinue, for a time."

I almost rose from the chair in anger. "That smarmy little rodent is here? We need to grab him and ask a few hard questions!"

Orton negated that with a shake of his head. "He amused the court with stories of unicorns and other such inconsequential frippery concerning his travels, then left to return to Veddek's tower on estate business, I hear. So no, he is not available for questioning. Besides, Veddek is with us at the request of Wayland, on loan as it were, from Duke Felway for the tower raising, so that would not be a politically sane thing to do."

"Politics be damned, the man is what we call a gun runner, at the very least. Whatever he means to me, getting his attention is far more important to you."

Orton sighed. "Nothing of far-killing weapons or other people were mentioned. So if he was involved in your problems, be wary. Keep your eyes open for trouble. For your own sake, do not detail your problems on the road to this court. Especially do not describe your involvement with this 'Markham', as MaCaan called himself, or even mention Veddek's apprentice."

"Why?"

"Because we must see to what extent MaCaan is involved in this business of Gods and Demons. Not warn him off. I want to know more of your part in this, William. There is a place I would like you to visit later, where we may learn more. But for now, you and Chord are called to audience with Wayland. Continue to follow Chord's advice, and do not use or even, if possible, handle the sword. I will set aside a room for you in this tower. The blade will be safe there. There is no need to call attention, by prancing about with it. I will show you the room on the way down. Your knife too, if you wish. The Duke does not usually allow arms to be borne into his court, in any case."

I felt an inner irritation at this. Thinking on it, I realized it stemmed from a sense of dissatisfaction with leaving my fate in the hands of others. While a neophyte in the ways of this culture, I was also a grown man used to running my own business and affairs. Displeased, I noted to Orton, "If Chord told you of our journey here, then you know it is almost certainly Markham, or MaCaan, as you call him, that fired upon me. Targeting which makes his master, this Mage Veddek of yours, suspect, and he is still here, I take it. The question is, whether MaCaan knows the sword is sealed to me and can't be stolen without killing me first, or simply feels acquiring it would be easier were I out of the picture."

I pulled the blade from my back, and laid it on the table.

"He obviously wants this," I continued, "perhaps requires it to obtain more weapons from my world, or is afraid of it--needs to be sure no others gain access to the blade, or such armament as its use, when kmown, might procure. I would recommend against subtlety. The rifle used against me can kill at a distance, and is only an example of the type. A few larger items of that sort could level this tower, this whole complex, for that matter, in a few seconds. The Duke should be made to understand this immediately, and both Veddek and his assistant should be detained."

I looked down, and considered the sword's properties, to the extent they were known. "While I live, the sword cannot be taken in any case, so hiding it will net very little, if they go free. I will remain armed. You must gain the Duke's ear and take action at once. We can sort out the extent of the involvement of MaCaan's master afterward. Better to be apologetic later, than dead sooner." I placed both of my hands flat to the table and looked deeply into Mage Orton's hazel gaze.

"I may be a stranger to your ways, but I am the expert here in what you face regarding the arms of my...land. You cannot even chance further imports of this type. Make an excuse for my absence if you must, but get those two under irons first, and quickly. I should not appear in court at all until this much, at least, is done."

Both Chord and Orton looked angry at this, but before they could voice objections, I took a small stick of drawing charcoal from my pocket, and heedless of Orton's furniture began to sketch on the table top and explain, in essence, the fundamentals of explosive firearms, their sizes and variety. The men's expressions melted, fading into the rabid concentration of scholars as I drew. I found myself fending off questions as to the compounding of propellant, saying that there were several types.

Reluctant to be responsible for the introduction of explosives, yet needing to show what they might face, I danced around the non-mechanical aspects as best I could. The two mage's features changed further, from interest to astonished fear as I talked and drew.

Mage Orton rubbed his chin and said, "This does put another wrinkle on things, William. However, you do not understand the protocols of our court. Duke Wayland, even could I convince him of this, would have to obtain the king's consent to incarcerate another Duke's entitled man. While our patents are not titled like landed nobility, mages are accorded the same recognition before the law. We are few, but our services are essential to the kingdom. Also, many function, like Chord, as Barons and Sheriffs to the farming communities they serve. The inferences here may involve treason to the Crown. Worse, the Mage Veddek is Duke Felway's man. I, for one, will not stand before Reginald Wayland, a Duke of the realm, and nephew of His Majesty Fredrick Esterford the Second, and cry treason, in such circumstances. Atleast, not on the sole report of a Smith. You are correct, though. You should not make appearance in court, given what we suspect. We still need more information, and quicker than we thought."

Orton sank back in his chair, mulling, eyes half-closed. Suddenly he sat erect, and said, "Here it is, then. We need to place someone close to Veddek. I must find someone dependable to apprentice to him, and quickly."

Chord became animated, and raised a finger. "I know someone. A girl I know, who will be visiting in town by tomorrow. We have...an understanding. Also, she has passed the Mage guild's inquiry for apprenticeship, and has not yet been placed."

An odd smile crossed Orton's face. "May-Anne, perhaps?"

Chord managed to blush and glower at the same time. "Is my personal life a matter of guild interest? If agreeable, she would be the best choice, and one Veddick would accept without question. Plus, she is available, smart and loyal."

Orton lifted a hand to Chord's shoulder while grinning ear to ear. "That she is. You recommended her for membership, did you not? It will expose her to some danger though, are you sure she is up to it? Are you personally comfortable with the idea, Chord? I am not prying, but it is apparent you have some concern for her welfare."

Mollified, Chord breathed in through his nose, and nodded. "Time is short, and she is both discrete and competent. Veddick can't possibly suspect we know anything as yet, else he would not be here. It may be she can uncover something before he departs. I will breach the issue with her myself, first thing tomorrow."

Orton nodded. "That leaves us with the second problem; what to do about our young friend here."

Orton knit his brows together and rapped knuckles on the tabletop. "We must make an appearance before Reginald straight away. I propose we tell him I sent the smith to survey some mineral deposits needed to complete the astrolabe for his Astrology project." The mage's face brightened with satisfaction at the idea. "I think that might please the Duke enough to keep him from chiding us about your smith's absence. Thus, two purposes may be served here. I had in mind sending him up to Mount Esh anyway; the place of the God Credine's demise, according to legend. I had hoped to take William there myself, to be present if anything is revealed concerning the Corm Da, and its influence. But now, another must guide him, as we must be here to explain to Reginald, and William far from sight."

Again, Chord's features came alive. "Thavis, Thavis Wayland! We met him at Alec's Inn, on the road to Corbell. He did say he would be headed this way after some conference with the farmers. He mentioned that he often runs errands for the court, and could provide testimony of the trip on his return, testimony I am sure the Duke would accept...would Thavis be available to you?"

"Possibly." Orton thinned his lips in thought, then nodded uncertainly. "If we can put William on the road immediately with a note detailing our story of metal hunting from me, getting Thavis to help should be no problem. After Thavis completes the duke's business with the farms, of course. William should find him on the highway inbound, or still at the inn, then they can take the northwest road east of Corbell, bypassing the town. Given our limited time, that will have to do."

This thought sparked another in Orton. "Send that pottery abomination with him! Gods! How did you manage to get the Golem accepted by your workers? If I tried to introduce one here, every Guild master and dockworker would be lined up with torches before the keep!"

Chord smiled. "One of the few advantages of frontier farming. I can indulge myself on occasion." He then turned to me as Orton rose from the table. "I am sorry, William, but your fate here seems bound up with other issues of import. To gather the information you require will take more than a perusal of arcane libraries. You will need to dig for it. Are you willing to expend the effort? This might be no mean undertaking, I fear."

I wrestled, trying to put into words the feelings that drove me. I had hoped for something more concrete from my visit to Corbell. This land was changing me, and I liked some of that, but stay or go, and regardless of the mage's concerns, my purpose to exhume the mechanics of returning to Illinois had never wavered. Also, other practical concerns tided in my mind.

"I would need to know the roads traveled as got me here, and how to return on my own, should Thavis refuse me. Also this...Credine thing, haunts me like a disease. I confess, I see a future here, and it is worth the effort to uncover the playing field I have been tossed on. An old hunter's adage says that a foxes' den without an exit is just a trap. I wouldn't want to feel trapped, or my trappers forever in mastery over me. Go or stay, that's something I have to resolve. Otherwise, how could I pursue a full life, here or elsewhere?"

Thoughts of Dimanda swam in that river, a plunge barred to me until I could see my future, some clearer picture of the cataracts ahead. "I'll do it."

Chord nodded. "I thought you would see it that way. You can take Gort, some trail food, your bedroll, and go back toward the Inn. Find Thavis. Give him Orton's note. Determine what you can at Mount Esh, but be more careful about your investigations than you have been heretofore. Don't become chatty with Thavis about the core of these things. I don't think he will be over curious, but if he becomes so, just play the workman, sent to do a job."

"And if he does become curious?"

"Refer him to Orton for such details as we may feel safe to share with him. Meantime, you can ply Thavis for details of the country about Corbell, roadways and such." Orton dug in a pouch at his waist, extracting three small rubies of about the size that one would find adorning a modest ring. He thrust them at me and said, "Take these and barter for anything you need on the way out of town. Forget your bedding, we will take care of your belongings. I want you off the estate grounds as quickly as you can manage. Watch yourself." Then to Chord, "We have to present ourselves to Wayland now, before he sends someone to fetch us. Let's not dawdle about."

I was supplied with letters, one to Thavis, and one for the gate guards. Then all three of us left the tower together. The two barraged me with warnings and advice the entire walk down to the tower's entrance. However, I stayed adamant about remaining armed despite their advice, while agreeing to the mission, as it would further research into my condition. We parted company at the tower door, and I trotted quickly to the North Yard to fetch Gort

. ***

The gate guards only glanced at the pass, long enough to discern Mage Orton's initials, then passed me through into the city proper. My pottery companion drew more stares in leaving the city than he did entering it, but I put this down to the fact we were not traveling in a large group. No one stopped us or made direct comment. I bartered for a bed roll from a vendor operating beneath a green pergola set between two expensive looking shops.

The vendor, a slight, nervous man, threw in a wineskin and a back-rack to tie everything to, in order to suck up some of the difference in the inexact trade for one of the gems. I knew I had been shorted by the trade, but a speedy exit from town was paramount, so I parted with the gem more quickly than I would have otherwise. Soon we were passed the outlying quays and onto the dusty eastern roadway.

It was already getting late, and I did not make good time, having been on my feet constantly since leaving the inn earlier in the day. Long shadows rippled ahead of us, turning the dark brown of the road to black where they fell. There was, at this late hour, no other traffic in sight, and I found myself marching along the lane in a mechanical haze, paying little attention to the surrounding countryside. Gort silently paced me without complaint, but of course, providing no company either, that being the device's nature.

Evening had waned and night had bloomed. A wavering yellow luminescence, winking from the windows of the distant tavern, broke me from the hypnotic slog. A rare burst of still sparking ash spilled out the inn's cooking chimney. It floated, barely visible, in a pawl of smoke that caused the stars behind to waver in its heat. It was a rousing sight by moonlight, and one I welcomed gratefully.

Alec the innkeeper did not meet me at the door, so instructing Gort to stand outside, I let myself in. A few patrons occupied the tables closest to the bar, notably at one well populated table, where a mix of farmers and travelers gambled in the nearby lantern light before the flaming backdrop of the hearth. I was not in the least surprised to find Thavis among them. Tired almost beyond speaking, I approached the courtier and handed him the letter.

He squinted up at me and recognition dawned. "Master William! What is this then?" He excused himself from the game, scooping a small pile of valuables up and pocketing them. Retreating from the table closer to the service bar's lanterns, he unfolded and read its content.

"Well, it seems we are to travel together. Mount Esh, is it? We can leave in the morning, if you like. My tasks here are done. Have you a room yet?"

I said no, and Thavis turned to flourish his hand across the bar, attracting the busy Alec. A quick conversation ensued, and I shortly found myself ensconced in a small room in one of the many interconnected buildings of the inn. I all but passed out onto the room's pallet as soon as the door was shut.