Clan and Crown

Rick stood with Tylara for what seemed a long time. Then the first compartment door opened again.

"Your men may now begin to unload. They will stay on this side of the ship, and they will not carry weapons. You will remain where you are."

"All right. Elliot, move 'em."

This time there was no argument from the work crew. The clerks and apprentices sweated and strained to get the boxes outside the ship. Others brought up mules and began to lash gear on their pack saddles.

Rick could see most of the cargo as it came out.

A lot of it was ammunition. One crate was labelled

"Armor, Body, Ballistic Nylon, Personal Protective."

Another was unmistakably Joh

Elliot came out gri

"Just like Christmas," Rick answered with a grin. He didn't move from his place in the circle of light. "Tylara-they didn't say you have to stay here," he said softly.

"They did not," she answered.

"Hey, I love you."

"I think perhaps you do," she said. She squeezed his arm.

"Talisker Scotch!" Elliot shouted. "And Re

Oh, they pay, Rick thought. They understand about not binding the mouths of the kine that tread the grain. But they won't take us home, and they gave us damned little choice about coming here.

The ship was unloaded, and most of the gear sent down the mountain on mules. The hatch closed, but the bright light from near the top of the ship continued to flood the bill with yellow light. Then the whine rose in pitch and became louder and louder. The ship seemed to lift slightly. It hung for a second, then rose swiftly and almost vertically into the dark sky.

"It is gone," Tylara whispered. "I had-you had told me. But until I saw-"

Rick laughed. "I know," he said. "Back on Earth I wouldn't have believed it." And I knew about airplanes, and radio, and- "Rick." Tylara spoke quietly, but there was an urgent note in her voice. She tilted her head. "Look." His eyes had not yet adjusted to the dark, and at first he couldn't see what had alarmed her. Then it became clear. There was a man standing beyond where the ship had been. He wore a Burberry raincoat and Irish tweed hat, and beside him stood a plain Samsonite suitcase. An instrument about the size of a small briefcase hung from a strap over his left shoulder. It glowed with faint lights from dials on its face.

The man waved. "Hello, Captain," he said.

It was Les.

"He is but a man," Tylara whispered.

"Yes. He is the human pilot who brought us to Tran."

"You know him-then he is-"

"Yes. The father of Gwen's child. Tylara, do nothing. Say nothing, except to be polite. I don't know why he's here_but that box he's carrying can talk to the ship, and that ship could destroy this whole world."

"But if the box were destroyed?"

"Then those in the ship would do whatever they wish."

"I see." She released her grip on his arm and fell silent.

"Sergeant Elliot!" Rick shouted.

"Sir!"

"Clear the hill. Move everyone out, then come back for me."

"Sir."

"Sorry about the housekeeping," Rick said. He moved toward Les. "Welcome to Tran."

The pilot nodded. "It appears that you have come up in this world since last we met."

Cold, Rick thought. Cold and haughty, as if he is master here. I suppose he is. "Let me introduce you to my wife. Tylara do Tamaerthon. Countess of Cheim and Justiciar of Drantos." He used English and spoke rapidly despite Tylara's frowns.

"Making you what?" Les demanded.

"Eqeta-that's count-"

"I know the title."

"Eqeta of Cheim, and Captain-General of Drantos." No need to tell him about Tamaerthon at all. Or the Roman alliance. Let him find out for himself-or not find out, which would be better.

"Ah. But I forget my ma

Usually Tylara was as resistant to male charm as a suit of armor, but she smiled warmly and thanked the starman. An act, Rick wondered? Or was she really impressed? Les was certainly handsome enough, and trying to be charming, but-still- "How long will you be with us?" Rick asked.

"That depends," Les said. "I've come for my wife.

Gwen must have told you I would come."

"She wasn't always sure she believed you," Rick said.

"Ah. Yeah, she had a right to her doubts," Les said. "That's over now. Where is she?"

"She didn't tell you?"

Les eyed Rick thoughtfully in the dim-light. "So she told you she has a transceiver," he said. "And you want me to believe she's alive and it's working."

"She's all right, and the transceiver works to the best I know," Rick said. "I take it Gwen didn't answer you, then."

"No. Now where is she?"

"That sounds very much like a demand."

Les shrugged. "Take it any way you-no. Eqeta Galloway; I would count it a very great favor if you would conduct me to my wife."

"A couple of questions, first," Rick said. "As for example-do your employers know you're here?"

Les looked startled, then laughed. "I take it you mean, did I jump ship? No. My landing is-authorized, and the time I Will stay on Tran is up to me."

And I can believe as much of that as I want to, Rick thought. But there's no point in standing here on a hilltop. "Welcome to Cheim. I trust you will do us the honor of being our guest."

"Thank you. But now that I've answered your question-where is my wife?"

Persistent chap, Rick thought. And maybe not quite as cool as he wants us to think- "The Lady Gwen is well," Tylara said. "And your son is safe and well and under our protection." The light was too dim for Rick to be certain, but he thought the pilot's face showed joy. His voice, though, remained unchanged. "My son. What did Gwen choose to name him?"

"Les," Tylara said.

Les turned to Tylara, but before he could say anything, she said, "The Lady Gwen is married to Lord Caradoc do Tamaerthon, a knight in my service. He is one of our most trusted captains, and my husband and I are very much in his debt."

"Married," Les said.

"Last autumn," Tylara said. "She believed that you were dead or had forsaken her."

"Well, I'm not, and I didn't," Les said. "And now I'd like to see her. If you please." His voice grew more stern. "Do you think I'd have come back to this-to Tran-for any other reason?"

Tylara shrugged. "I do not know the duties of those who serve the-Shalnuksis."

"So. You've told her everything," Les said.

"Shouldn't I?" Rick asked.

"I don't know." Les shrugged.

"It's walk, ride, or wait all night until I can send for a sedan chair," Rick said.

Les laughed. "I'll ride, if the horse is tame."

"It's a mule," Rick said. "More surefooted for this mountain trail. And it's certainly gentle enough. All right, Sergeant Major. Lead the way. Sergeant Frick will bring up the rear. And spread right out, gentlemen."

"Yes, sir," Elliot said. He rode on ahead, and Frick dropped back, so that Rick, Tylara, and Les rode alone.

"You have them well trained," Les said.

That didn't seem worth answering, and Rick said nothing. The trail was steep and frightening if you didn't trust the mules; the trick was to let the animals pick their own way and pace. Les seemed to be doing that.

They reached the bottom, and the trail widened. "All right," Les said. "Where is Gwen? And this- Caradoc."

"Lady Gwen is-in another part of the country," Rick said.