flowing free now. Brown, but it flashed red in the sun when she turned. Sheâd had it in a queue when she was riding. She was wearing soft leather slippers, beaded with tiny shells, over her perfect feet.
âYou are a gracious host, Wagonmaster,â Sandry said. âWe will return your hospitality as soon as feasible, and all is ready for you at Peacegiven Square. Orâwell, itâs not my place to invite you, but Iâm sure that if you would care to bring your caravan farther toward the harbor, we can find accommodations nearer Lordshills. Tower, it is great to see you!â He knew he was grinning like a fool. âI was hoping you would come, we waited, but then we thought you would not be here this year, the caravan was late. And I didnât know you were here, I learned that when I learned the monsters were attacking, then I came as quickly as I could, it is great to see youââ
Green Stone looked from Sandry to his sister and back again and sighed. âWe were late because this is the fourth attack of terror birds weâve had to fight off, Younglord Sandry.â
âLord,â Chalker said carefully. âYour pardon, Wagonmaster. Lord Sandry has been made a Lord since you were here last. He is chief of the Fire Brigades.â
âOh, good!â Burning Tower said. âWas it the battle with the Toronexti? You were wonderful then!â
âYou were too,â Sandry said. She was glad to see him! Really! âYou burning the old charter, thatâs what won the war.â
âAre the terror birds all defeated?â Green Stone asked.
Sandry nodded. âAs far as I know, there were twelve. Eleven are dead and one is in a cage. Do you think there were more?â
âNo, thatâs more than we counted,â Green Stone said. He ushered them toward a place in the shade, where carpets had been spread to sit on and a fire blazed in a big ceramic bowl. There was a tea kettle on the fire.
The wagoneers clustered around them. They all seemed young, older than Burning Tower but younger than her Wagonmaster brother. Most were dark and short, with a queue hanging down their backs, some to their waist. Sandry was average height for a Lord, but much taller than the wagoneers. Sandry had learned that most people outside the Valley of Smokes looked alike, like these who called themselves the Bison Tribe. There were other tribes, but there was no way to tell them apart except by paint and ornaments and feathers, which Sandry didnât know how to read. But they were all one kind of people.
Then there were the others who were not. Green Stone, who was as big as any Lordkin but bore the ears of a kinless. Not surprising, given his ancestry, Lordkin father and kinless mother, no kin to the Bison Tribe people at all. But Burning Tower didnât look much like her brother. She was much shorter and smaller, more kinless than Lordkin, but she could also pass for one of the Bison Tribe. Why not? Sandry thought. Bison Tribes and kinless had to be related, they were both here when the fair-skinned Lordkin giants came following a fire god and wandering southward seeking a land they had been promised but might never find. A land of perpetual green with no winter snow. A land where gathering was good and one never had to work.
Well, we found that for them, Sandry thought. And from the stories, it had been a good life: kinless did the work, Lordkin lived by gathering from kinless, and Lords governed. Lordkin were convinced the kinless wouldnât work without the Lords, kinless convinced the Lordkin would slaughter them all if the Lords didnât prevent it. And the funny part was that it was all true, Sandry thought. The Lordkin really would take everything if we didnât stop them, and then the kinless would just stop making anything and everyone would starve.
âOld charter,â Green Stone said. âThe one that gave the Toronexti rights to steal. Burning
âYou are a gracious host, Wagonmaster,â Sandry said. âWe will return your hospitality as soon as feasible, and all is ready for you at Peacegiven Square. Orâwell, itâs not my place to invite you, but Iâm sure that if you would care to bring your caravan farther toward the harbor, we can find accommodations nearer Lordshills. Tower, it is great to see you!â He knew he was grinning like a fool. âI was hoping you would come, we waited, but then we thought you would not be here this year, the caravan was late. And I didnât know you were here, I learned that when I learned the monsters were attacking, then I came as quickly as I could, it is great to see youââ
Green Stone looked from Sandry to his sister and back again and sighed. âWe were late because this is the fourth attack of terror birds weâve had to fight off, Younglord Sandry.â
âLord,â Chalker said carefully. âYour pardon, Wagonmaster. Lord Sandry has been made a Lord since you were here last. He is chief of the Fire Brigades.â
âOh, good!â Burning Tower said. âWas it the battle with the Toronexti? You were wonderful then!â
âYou were too,â Sandry said. She was glad to see him! Really! âYou burning the old charter, thatâs what won the war.â
âAre the terror birds all defeated?â Green Stone asked.
Sandry nodded. âAs far as I know, there were twelve. Eleven are dead and one is in a cage. Do you think there were more?â
âNo, thatâs more than we counted,â Green Stone said. He ushered them toward a place in the shade, where carpets had been spread to sit on and a fire blazed in a big ceramic bowl. There was a tea kettle on the fire.
The wagoneers clustered around them. They all seemed young, older than Burning Tower but younger than her Wagonmaster brother. Most were dark and short, with a queue hanging down their backs, some to their waist. Sandry was average height for a Lord, but much taller than the wagoneers. Sandry had learned that most people outside the Valley of Smokes looked alike, like these who called themselves the Bison Tribe. There were other tribes, but there was no way to tell them apart except by paint and ornaments and feathers, which Sandry didnât know how to read. But they were all one kind of people.
Then there were the others who were not. Green Stone, who was as big as any Lordkin but bore the ears of a kinless. Not surprising, given his ancestry, Lordkin father and kinless mother, no kin to the Bison Tribe people at all. But Burning Tower didnât look much like her brother. She was much shorter and smaller, more kinless than Lordkin, but she could also pass for one of the Bison Tribe. Why not? Sandry thought. Bison Tribes and kinless had to be related, they were both here when the fair-skinned Lordkin giants came following a fire god and wandering southward seeking a land they had been promised but might never find. A land of perpetual green with no winter snow. A land where gathering was good and one never had to work.
Well, we found that for them, Sandry thought. And from the stories, it had been a good life: kinless did the work, Lordkin lived by gathering from kinless, and Lords governed. Lordkin were convinced the kinless wouldnât work without the Lords, kinless convinced the Lordkin would slaughter them all if the Lords didnât prevent it. And the funny part was that it was all true, Sandry thought. The Lordkin really would take everything if we didnât stop them, and then the kinless would just stop making anything and everyone would starve.
âOld charter,â Green Stone said. âThe one that gave the Toronexti rights to steal. Burning
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