There were four of them, and he’d never seen such dress in his life. It was evidently some sort of uniform, and all were garbed almost identically, so undoubtedly they were fellow clannsmen. The dress was colorless, drab by any kilt standards, and each leg was completely sheathed. Above everything in strangeness was that though all were obviously adult, none wore claidheammor or even a skean.

It came to him then that these, of course, were the travelers from Beyond, in short, men from another world. Until this very moment, John had never really believed in such, in spite of the Holy Books and the preachings of the bedels and the Keepers of the Faith.

And It came to him also that although the others wore no swords or daggers, the bolstered devices on each hip were undoubtedly weapons, and weapons that would have mine under the bann in any phylum John of the Hawks had even heard of.

Two were seated in the most comfortable chairs the room provided, and two were leaning against the fireplace. All eyes turned to John when he entered.

He blurted, “What are you doing in this home?”

The youngest of the four, one of those leaning against the fireplace, let his hand drop nonchalantly to the bolstered object on his hip. It was, John decided, probably some sort of gun, though he had never seen a gun smaller than a carbine.

The eldest, who was seated, scowled at the intruder. “Who in the name of Krishna are you?”

Although their voices were heavily accented to John’s ear, the words were almost all understandable, although he didn’t know what Krishna meant.

He said, “I am John of the Hawks, and these are my assigned quarters.”

The other seated man said, “Oh. Of course. Sorry, John, uh, of the Hawks. The… what did they call him? The head man.”

One of those at the fireplace said, “The sachem.”

“That’s right. The sachem offered us this apartment. Your family has been moved in with one of your cousins, I think he said. You were away. We’re very grateful, of course.”