Storm Breaking

something our old Kings hadn't done for generations. It's—'

'He'd have to take earth-binding,' the furrier burst out. 'We've got a priest of the old beliefs, one that knows the ceremony and can make it stick. He'd have to bind himself to the earth, to Hardorn, so that anything that hurt the land would hurt him!'

The Woolmaster stared at his fellow, appalled, but Elspeth only shrugged. 'It sounds like a sensible precaution on your part,' she told them. 'And if the opportunity presents itself, we will convey your message to the Grand Duke. But we can't promise anything, and we certainly can't promise that he'll agree to any such thing.'

'That's all we ask, Envoy!' the Woolmaster said, waving at his little group and backing up himself, with a great deal of haste. 'That's all! Our thanks!'

As he spoke, he herded the others out in front of him, and with the last word, he shut the door to the dining room behind him.

Darkwind looked at Elspeth, and she grimaced. 'Well,' she said, into the heavy silence. 'That was certainly interesting.'

'And it leaves the question begging,' he replied, with a rueful smile. 'Just how would one present such a proposition to Tremane?'

'I think that we can wait until we ride into Shonar itself, and we get a chance to see what the Empire represents—as molded by the hand of Grand Duke Tremane,' she replied. 'That in itself will tell us whether or not there's any point.'

Despite the icy wind cutting through her coat, Elspeth sat back in her saddle and stared until her eyes hurt from snow glare. 'I can't believe they raised all this in a single season,' she muttered.

:And without magic,: Gwena reminded her, shifting her weight in tiny increments to keep muscles warm. :Granted, they did have a great deal of incentive—the possibility of hostile Hardornen troops attacking, and the certainty of monsters—what did that fine young man call them?:

'Boggles,' Elspeth replied absently, taking in the reality of a two-story-tall wall, and not a wooden palisade, mind, but a brick wall. This edifice circled not only the entire city of Shonar but the much larger camp and garrison of the Imperials, and an open sward that had once been the town's grazing commons as well. A monumental task? Without a doubt.

Then add to that the equally monumental task of constructing barracks buildings for the Imperial forces before the snow fell, and it became a job to stun the mind in its scope. How had he gotten all that built? Where had he found all the laborers?

'We're very proud of our work, Siara,' said the 'fine young man' in Imperial uniform who had met them half a day out of Shonar and escorted them in. Siara was evidently the generic title of respect applicable to either sex that the Imperial military used when the person doing the addressing did not know the true rank of the one being addressed. It was probably the equivalent to 'sir;' mercenaries generally addressed their officers as 'sir' regardless of gender, a perfectly sensible approach of which Elspeth approved.

'We all worked on the walls and the barracks, every man of us,' the young soldier continued, his cheeks flushed in the cold. 'Except when some of us went to work on the harvest, and then we traded work with townsfolk. However many it took to make up the work that one of us could do, that's what Duke Tremane traded, so the walls and the barracks could keep going up.'

:Sensible. Did you notice? The boy says that Tremane 'traded' work for work, not that he conscripted workers.: Gwena's head was up as she made her own survey of the walls. :Granted, it wouldn't have been very smart to conscript workers for a wall you're building for your own protection, but that hasn't stopped rulers in the past from doing things equally stupid.:

Elspeth nodded; no point in confusing the poor fellow by answering someone he couldn't hear. The Imperials were already confused enough by her insistence on special treatment and housing for Gwena and the dyheli Brytha, although they had agreed to such a condition before a single Valdemaran set foot on the road to Shonar.

Darkwind cleared his throat gently. 'As impressive as these walls are, I suspect our fellow travelers are as cold as I am, and we are not growing any warmer for standing here.'

The young soldier snapped to immediate attention and stammered an apology. 'Of course, Siara, forgive me! We'll be on our way at once!'

He nudged his own horse awkwardly with his heels, sending it ambling toward the gate ahead of them. He obviously (at least to Elspeth's eyes) was not used to riding, and the horse was certainly not a cavalry mount; thick-legged, jugheaded, and shaggy, it probably belonged to a farmer who didn't have any need for it in this season. He was probably grateful he hadn't had to ride out too great a distance to meet them; he handled the reins as if afraid the steady old gelding was going to rear and bolt at any second. The horse had no intention of doing so, he was just perfectly happy to be heading back to the city, a warm stall, and a good feed. She wouldn't hurt the poor boy's feelings by laughing at him, but she was very glad for the scarf wrapped around her face, concealing her mouth.