long before the new guard came down the cliff. Gerda
stretched and drew a deep breath, savoring the summer morning air. Now,
it was pleasant, a happy contrast to the sullen skies and biting winter
winds he had faced a few short months ago.

For a time, he looked at the green atop the cliffs, then he transferred
his attention upriver, toward the bend where the Nalen came out of the
pass to blow between the iron cliffs of Menstal. The water flowed
swiftly in the narrows, throwing off white glints as its ripples caught
the sunlight, then deepening to a dark blue where it came into the
shadow of the cliffs.

A sudden call sounded from the lookout far above, and the officer
wheeled about, looking to the great chain which stretched from tower to
cliff, to block river traffic. It was in proper position, and Gerda
looked back at the bend.

As he watched, a long, low barge drifted into sight, picking up speed as
it came into the rapid current. Polemen balanced themselves alertly in
the bow, their long sticks poised to deflect their course from any
threatening rocks.

Gerda threw off the almost poetical admiration of beauty that had
possessed him a moment before and faced the guard house, from whence
came a scuffle of feet and the clank of arms, to tell of the guard's
readiness.

"Turn out the Guard." Gerda drew himself up into a commanding pose.

A group of men-at-arms marched stiffly out, followed by a pair of serfs.
The leader saluted Gerda with upraised hand.

"The Guard is ready, My Captain," he proclaimed. "May the tax be rich."

Gerda returned the salute. "It will be," he stated positively. "These
merchants have learned by now that to insult Portal Menstal with poor
offerings is unwise in the extreme. And, mark me, they'll not forget!"

The barge approached and swung in toward the wharf in obedience to
Gerda's imperious gesture. One of the polemen jumped ashore, securing a
line to a bollard.

The steersman climbed to the dock, to halt a pace in front of Gerda. He
folded his hands and bowed his head submissively.

"Does Your Honor desire to inspect the cargo?"

"Of course." Gerda's haughty glance appraised the man from toe to crown.
"Quickly now. I've little time to waste." He glanced back at his clerk,
who had a tablet ready.

"Your name, Merchant?"

"Teron, of Krongert, may it please you, sir. I have been to----"

Gerda waved an impatient hand. "Save me your speech, Higgler," he said
curtly. "What's you