He shifted focus again and slid the viewfield of the ocular across to the bridge the mesuch had thrown across the river in a careless gesture of power that turned him sick with anger and envy. And swore again when he saw half a dozen swampies hovering in the shadow under the trees of the Sea Marish, still tied to the Marish by shyness and fear, though it wouldn’t be long before the bolder ones trotted across the bridge and joined the traders. What better measure of how accustomed people were getting to this invasion.

Its translucent flesh taking on the varied greens of the leaves, a tentacle dropped through the leaves and touched his shoulder. From where xe floated above Maorgan, the Eolt Melech sang and the simplified words came to the man through the touch. *What is it, sioll Maorgan?*

*The trade’s getting brisker. Word’s out, I suppose. Look at the swampies. How much longer before they’re caught too? I doubt we’ll ever get rid of the mesuch now.*

Melech sang. *I see them, my sioll. It is a season of change and who knows the end of it.* Sadness flowed through the flesh link. *Do you see the children?’

*Not yet, let me…,* His voice trailed off as he increased magnification and began sliding the viewfield over the enclosure.

The mesuchs were quick men covered with fur that was more like plush, shades of brown from dark amber to almost black. The fur was darker about their eyes and some of them had white markings under the masks. The four at the trade tables wore long robes, but those inside the enclosure were mostly stripped to leather aprons and a few straps. How the steamy heat down there felt to all that fur wasn’t something Maorgan liked to think about, not when they held younglings hostage to their tempers.

He counted them again. Four traders, six or seven who tended machines and supervised the work that their metal slaves did on the buildings inside the fence, two, maybe three, who looked like guards, three, four, maybe as many as seven who moved about as if they had tasks to complete, though he couldn’t imagine what they were. Most of these last ones had the white markings under their eyes, but otherwise were hard to tell apart so he was never sure whether he was counting two as one or seeing the same one in several different places.