of gold and surrounded by small blue-white sones.
He spent a lot of time that day wrapping and tightening the leather strapping
around the silver sword-sheath given him by him called Stepson. Thus its ornate
value was concealed. He tried on the mailcoat and marveled at its suppleness and
spent many many minutes learning to get it off. Over the head, yes, but one
could not hoist it up and over as one did a tunic-not just under forty pounds of
boiled leather covered with rings of black metal! The helmet fitted perfectly,
of course.
The ring he would not try on. It was hers, Hers and his sign; he could not
consider it his ring. It and four of his five silver coins he carefully stashed
before he went down, rather late in the afternoon, for something to eat. He wore
the old camel-hued tunic with the raveling hem.
He ate well, drinking only barley water.
“Saw you going out last night, Shadow-spawn,” the taverner said quietly,
admiring the silver coin and trying to be cool about it. “Musta been a good
night, hmm?”
“Aye. A good night. Aye! Don’t forget my change.”
It was too late to do much of anything. He wandered a bit, hoping to catch sight
ofTempus. He did not, andhad to go back. pretending notto hurry, to check his
new possessions.
He did. It was all there. The change from the silver coin was still in the draw
top bag he was not stupid enough to wear on his belt. And there were five silver
coins in his stash.
Hanse sat on the edge of his bed, thinking about that.
Looks as i;fmy, uh, immortal allies want me to have no financial worries’ They’d