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"And this second purse is a present, inmemory of your gallant defense of the caravan."

  Derikuna smiled sardonically. "Thank you," he said, "and good trading."He reined away.

  He had caught the semi-fearful thoughts. Well, that was nothing unusual.Everybody became fearful of the iron hat sooner or later. Here, theywould learn to respect him, too. Though their respect would be for adifferent name. Nor would they be able to deny him aught. They might notlike him. That, he had no interest in. They'd do his will. And they'dnever forget him.

  He rode to an inn, where he ordered food and lodging. His meal over, hesaw to his beasts, then had a servant take his baggage to his room.

  * * * * *

  Shortly after daybreak, he awoke. He blinked at the light, stirredrestlessly, and got out of bed. Rubbing his eyes, he walked to the otherside of the room.

  For a few minutes, he looked at the trough in the floor and the waterbucket standing near it. At last, he shrugged and started splashingwater over himself. This morning, he spent more time than usual, beingsure that no vestige of beard was left on his face, and that he wasperfectly clean. He completed his bath by dashing perfumed water overhis entire body.

  He opened his traveling chest, picking out clothing he had worn but fewtimes, and those in private. At last, he examined his reflection in amirror, and nodded in satisfaction.

  "Truly," he told himself, "a fine example of western nobility."

  He picked out a few expensive ornaments from his chest, then locked itagain and left the inn.

  He guided his mount through the narrow streets to the castle gate, wherehe confronted a sleepy, heavily-armed sentry.

  "Send word to the castle steward," he ordered, throwing his riding cloakback, "that Florel, younger son of the Earl of Konewar, would pay hisrespects to your master, the Duke of Dwerostel."

  The man eyed him for a moment, then straightened and grounded his pikewith a crash.

  "It shall be done, sir." He turned and struck a gong.

  A guard officer came through the tunnel under the wall. For a moment, helooked doubtful, then he spoke respectfully and ushered Derikuna throughthe inner court to a small apartment, where he turned him over to asteward.

  "You wish audience with His Excellency?"

  "I do, My Man. I wish to pay him my respects, and those of my father,the Earl of Konewar." Derikuna looked haughtily at the man.

  Like the guard officer, the steward seemed doubtful. For a few seconds,he seemed about to demur. Then, he bowed respectfully.

  "Very well, sir." With a final, curious glance at the coronet whichshone in Florel's hair, the steward clapped his hands. A page hurriedinto the room and bowed.

  "Your orders, sir?"

  "We have a noble guest. Bring refreshment, at once." The steward wavedto a table. "If Your Honor will wait here?"

  Florel inclined his head, strode to a chair, and sat down. He lookedamusedly after the disappearing steward. The coronet of the old Earl, hethought, was a truly potent talisman. Even the disdainful stewards ofcastles bowed to its force. And, thought the impostor, so would hismaster--when the time came.

  * * * * *

  The page reappeared with a flagon of wine and some cakes. Florel wassampling them when the steward returned. The man bowed respectfully,waited for Florel to finish his wine, and led the way through a corridorto a heavy pair of doors, which he swung open.

  "Florel, Son of Konewar," he announced ceremoniously.

  The Duke flipped a bone to one of his dogs, shoved his plate aside, andlooked up. Florel walked forward a few paces, stopped, and bowed low.

  "Your Excellency."

  As he straightened, he realized that he was the object of an intensescrutiny. At last, the Duke nodded.

  "We had no notice of your coming."

  Florel smiled. "I have been traveling alone, Excellency, and incognito.For some years, I have been wandering, to satisfy my desire to see theworld." He glanced down at his clothing.

  "I arrived in your town last evening, and delayed only to make myselfpresentable before appearing to pay my respects."

  "Very good. Punctuality in meeting social obligations is a mark of goodbreeding." The Duke eyed Florel's costume.

  "Tell me, young man, do all your nobility affect the insignia you wear?"

  Florel's hand rose to his coronet. "Only members of the older families,Excellency."

  "I see." The nobleman nodded thoughtfully. "We have heard rumors of yourfashions in dress, though no member of any of the great families ofyour realm has ever come so far before. We are somewhat isolated here."He looked sharply at the younger man.

  "Rumor also has it that this is more than mere insignia you wear. I haveheard it said that your ornaments give more than mortal powers to theirwearer. Is this true?"

  Florel hesitated for an instant, then recognized the desired response.Of course this eastern noble would not welcome the thought that therewere others who had greater powers than he. And he would certainlyresent any suggestions that a young visitor to his court had suchpowers.

  "Oh, that," he said easily. "Legends, really. The truth is that thewearing of the coronet and belt is restricted to members of the older,more honorable families. And even these must prove their ability at armsand statecraft before being invested with the insignia. Too, knowledgeof long lineage and gentle birth makes a man more bold--possibly evenmore skillful than the average." He smiled ingratiatingly.

  "You, yourself, recognize your own superiority in all ways over yourretainers, your vassals, and your townspeople. And so are we above thecommon man. This insignia is but the outward symbol of thatsuperiority."

  The Duke nodded, satisfied. He waved a hand.

  "Sit down, young man. You must remain at our court for a time. We arehungry for news of the distant lands."

  Florel congratulated himself. Well embellished gossip, he had found, wasa popular form of entertainment in camp and court alike, and his storeof gossip was large and carefully gathered. Here at Dweros, far from thecenter of the kingdom, his store of tales would last for a longtime--probably as long as he needed.

  During the days and nights that followed, he exerted himself to gain thefavor of the Duke and his household. Much of his time, he spententertaining others with his tales. But he kept his own ears and eyesopen. He became a constant visitor at the castle, finally being offeredthe use of one of the small apartments, which he graciously accepted.And, of course, he was invited to join the hunts.

  Hunting, he discovered, could be a pleasant pastime--so long as it wasanother who was doing the hard work of beating. And his own experienceas a beater proved valuable. He was familiar with the ways and thehaunts of animals. What had once been a matter of survival became a roadto acclaim. He was known before long as a skillful, daring hunter.

  * * * * *

  At length, he decided the time was right to talk to the Duke of moreserious things. The duchy was at the very border of the kingdom. To thenorth lay territory occupied only by barbaric tribes, who frequentlydescended on the northern baronies, to rob travelers of their goods, orto loot villages. Having secured their loot, the tribesmen retreated totheir mountains before a fighting force could come up with them.

  Florel came upon the Duke while he was considering the news of one ofthese raids.

  "Your Excellency, these border raids could be halted. A strong hand isall that is needed, at the right place. A determined knight, establishedon the Menstal, could command the river crossing and the pass, thuspreventing either entry or exit."

  "To be sure." The Duke sighed wearily. "But the mountains of Menstal areinhospitable. Knights have occupied the heights, protecting the borderfor a time, to be sure, but the land has always escheated to the duchy.A small watchtower is kept manned even now, but it's a hungry land, andone which would drain even a baron's funds. I have no knight who wantsit."

  Florel smiled. He had plans concerning the Menstal, and the gr
eat river,the Nalen, which raced between high cliffs.

  "The merchants, who use the Nalen for their shipments, would welcomeprotection from the robber bands, I think, as would the travelers of theroads."

  "And?" The Duke looked at him thoughtfully.

  "Possibly a small tax?" Florel smiled deprecatingly. "Sufficient tomaintain a garrison?"

  "And who would collect the tax?"

  "That, Excellency, I could arrange. I have funds, adequate to garrisonthe tower of the Menstal, and even to make it livable for a considerableforce of men. And I believe I could maintain and increase a garrisonthere that would serve to hold the barbarians at bay."

  "Let me think this over." The Duke sat back, toying with his cup. "It istrue," he mused, "that Menstal is the key to the border. And the