learned to act. It had not been for nothing that he had
carefully studied the ways of the nobility.

The caravan clattered through the gate beneath the castle, twisted
through the streets just beyond the wall, and stopped in the market
place. Derikuna urged his mount ahead and confronted the merchant.

"Here is my destination," he said. "So, we'll settle up, and I'll be on
my way."

The merchant looked at him with a certain amount of relief. The man, he
knew, was a tough fighter. His efforts had been largely the cause of the
failure of bandits to capture the caravan only a few days before. But
there was something about him that repelled. He was a man to be feared,
not liked. Somehow, the merchant felt he was well rid of this guard,
despite his demonstrated ability. He reached into his clothing and
produced two bags.

"We hate to lose you, Derikuna," he dissembled. "Here is your normal
wage." He held out one bag. "And this second purse is a present, in
memory of your gallant defense of the caravan."

Derikuna smiled sardonically. "Thank you," he said, "and good trading."
He reined away.

He had caught the semi-fearful thoughts. Well, that was nothing unusual.
Everybody became fearful of the iron hat sooner or later. Here, they
would learn to respect him, too. Though their respect would be for a
different name. Nor would they be able to deny him aught. They might not
like him. That, he had no interest in. They'd do his will. And they'd
never forget him.

He rode to an inn, where he ordered food and lodging. His meal over, he
saw to his beasts, then had a servant take his baggage to his room.

* * * * *

Shortly after daybreak, he awoke. He blinked at the light, stirred
restlessly, and got out of bed. Rubbing his eyes, he walked to the other
side of the room.

For a few minutes, he looked at the trough in the floor and the water
bucket standing near it. At last, he shrugged and started splashing
water over himself. This morning, he spent more time than usual, being
sure that no vestige of beard was left on his face, and that he was
perfectly clean. He completed his bath by dashing perfumed water over
his entire body.

He opened his traveling chest, picking out clothing he had worn but few
times, and those in private. At last, he examined his reflection in a
mirror, and nodded in satisfaction.

"Truly," he told himself, "a fine example of western nobility."

He picked out a fe