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"Wow, Matti," he said, waving at the castle. "That's something! You told me about it but it looks: like it's really something. Yeah."

He didn't say what that something was, but Mathilda Arminger beamed proudly.

"Yup," she said, and chattered on: "Dad built it for Mom, really. When I was just a baby. I don't remember it when it wasn't finished, though. There's this book on it the chief engineer did up when it was finished, it's pretty interesting, with drawings and everything-I liked it even when I was just a kid, before last year, there are a lot of pictures they took."

"It's real big to build so quick. I mean, it's as big as a lot of the old buildings from before the Change!"

Mathilda nodded proudly. "Dad says that castles were quick to build in the old days too-a couple of years. And it's easier the way we did it, with the concrete and the steel rods and stuff. We live here a lot, when we're not in Portland or visiting around with the counts and barons and Marchwardens. It's real quick, we ride over to Newberg and then get on the railway with guys pedaling, and we're at the city palace in Portland just like that."

She snapped her fingers, and Tiphaine Rutherton looked over at them, then nodded and smiled when she realized the gesture wasn't meant to get her attention.

She's been smiling a lot, Rudi thought. I mean, smiling a lot for her. I bet she's counting up what she's going to get for bringing Matti back. And for getting me.

She was also wearing the war harness of a man-at-arms now, rather than her camouflage outfit, though with the helmet slung at her saddlebow; so were the rest of her party, and the children had acquired clothes rushed south to the border station where they'd paused for baths and food and a good night's sleep. They'd also picked up a four-horse carriage and servants, but Mathilda preferred to leave them inside and ride with him-the riding horses were splendid, not as magnificent as Epona of course, but better than any others he'd ever seen. Rudi had been given well-made boots that fit him, and trousers and t-tunic of fine green cloth. A loose linen shirt went under it and a leather belt tooled and studded with silver was cinched around his waist; on his head he wore a flat cloth hat with a roll around the edge and a tail hanging down the side, and a silver badge and peacock feather at the front.

Mathilda was wearing a similar set of clothes in brown, though with jeweled embroidery and a golden clasp on a hat whose tail was of red silk; that was a boy's gear by northern reckoning, but evidently Princess Mathilda was an exception to the usual rules. She'd also left off the dagger when she saw he wasn't allowed to have his dirk back. She said her mother had probably thought to have the clothes ready, and from his one meeting with her she probably had indeed.

Matti's mother is real smart, Rudi thought. I don't think she's real nice, though. He licked his lips slightly, then stiffened his back; he was about to meet the Lord Protector. I'm not scared. And if I am, I won't let anyone see!

His mother had said something about Castle Todenangst once, when she'd seen a picture of it: Sure, and the man must have been Walt Disney in a previous life. He wasn't sure precisely what that meant, but all the grown-ups had laughed, and the memory of it heartened him now.

It's no use saying anything to Matti. I mean, if I say, your dad's going to have them cut off my head, she'd just get scared and mad and couldn't do anything. She loves her dad.

An escort of the Protector's household knights flanked them on either side, the black-and-crimson pe





Then they turned right and the way rose south towards the castle's outer gates; spearmen lined the road on either side, but more people stood on the battlements above the gate and cheered as well; those had servants' tabards on over their clothes. The gates were of black steel with the Lidless Eye wreathed in flames on them in some red-gold alloy; when the great portals swung open it was eerily like riding into the empty pupil, like a window into nothing. Little flowers rained down as they went on over the drawbridge with a booming of hooves on thick planks, and under the fangs of the portcullis; there was a wet moat, smelling fairly fresh, and thick with water lilies. The tu

"Do you like it?" Mathilda asked as they came back into the sunlight.

"It's really something," Rudi repeated sincerely.

Inwardly, he shivered slightly, feeling something of the demonic, driving will that had reared these stony heights amid the death of a world. Mathilda leaned over and gave his hand a squeeze; he returned it gratefully for an instant.

On the inside the wall was about half the forty-foot height it had been at the moat's edge, which meant that the lower half backed against the cut-away hill. They'd done the same at Dun Juniper and other places; he knew that was sound technique.

The outer wall isn't as high as Mount Angel, but it goes further around: he thought. It's pretty big, bigger than home or Larsdalen. Not nearly as big as Corvallis, though.

He remembered to look for the things Sam Aylward and Nigel Loring had taught him.

Good location. This is the high ground for long catapult range all around. Probably lots of water inside – the mountains over there to dawn-ward would mean powerful springs and good wells. Good communications. And it dominates the passage between the Parrett Mountains and the Dundee Hills, and the bridge where we came across the Willamette.

Houses and sheds, workshops and barracks and stables and shops lined the inside of the wall's circuit. At their doorsteps was a broad asphalt-paved street lined with trees, and on the i

A single road switchbacked up the northern face to the keep's entrance. Trumpets brayed triumphantly as they rode through; this time the roadway turned right in a deep cutting inside the gate-towers, and then left again before it reached the surface; that meant the walls must have the hill backing them for fifty feet up or better; the hooves of their party clattered in a din of harsh echoes until they came to the light once more.