"Yeah. Sorry. All right, let's go." He led the way to the thick nail-studded door and pulled. It opened slowly. It ought to, Rick thought. The damn thing must weigh five hundred pounds in this gravity. One heavy mother. There were men outside the door. Rick nodded to Jamiy, his orderly, and the brace of Guardsmen. Then he turned to the fourth man who stood stiffly aloof from the others. "Captain Caradoc."

"My lord." Caradoc was dressed in bright-colored kilts. He wore a jewel-handled dirk at his waist. A bow and quiver hung over his shoulder. He was no older than Rick. Caradoc bowed deeply, and waited until Rick returned the greeting before straightening.

"It's good to see you again," Rick said. "How went your journey?"

"Well enough, my lord. I had fast horses and Yatar's favor."

"I'm pleased to hear it." Rick put as much warmth in his voice as he could. More than once Caradoc had saved Rick and his family. Caradoc was really Tylara's man, henchman of her father, son of one of her father's subchiefs. Loyal men high in the Tamaerthan clan system were rare…

"We'll go down to audience hall," Mason said. One of the guards went ahead at a trot. The second walked ahead of Rick. Mason walked alongside Rick, with Jamiy and Caradoc following.

All this rigmarole just to go downstairs, Rick thought. Places of honor and all. And yet there really are damned few I can trust to walk behind me with weapons.

They went down a narrow stone stairway to a broad hall hung with tapestries, then along that to an arched entry into a much larger chamber.

Rick had just gotten inside when he heard a gravelly voice call, "Make way. Make way for the Wanax of Drantos." A party came through another entrance. First two men-at-arms. Then the King's Companion, Morrone, a lordling Rick found a bit pretentious. Next came Camithon, the scar-faced Lord Protector.