Read Marune: Alastor 933 for Free Online Page A

succession of enormous mountain ranges, the high crags rising past the timber line, up past snow and glaciers, into regions where rain and snowfall no longer existed. A multitude of small rivers drained the region, wandering along narrow upland valleys, expanding to become lakes, pouring over precipices to reconstitute themselves in new lakes or new streams below. Certain of the valleys were named: Haun, Gorgetto, Zangloreis, Eccord, Wintaree, Disbague, Morluke, Tuillin, Scharrode, Ronduce, a dozen others, all sounding of an odd or archaic dialect. Some of the names lay easy on his tongue, as if he well knew their proper pronunciation; and when Kolodin, peering over his shoulder, read them off, he noticed the faulty inflections, though he told Kolodin nothing of this.
    Ollave called him and indicated a tall glass case. “What do you think of this?”
    “Who are they?”
    “An eiodarkal trismet.”
    “Those words mean nothing to me.”
    “They are Rhune terms, of course; I thought you might recognize them. An ‘eiodark’ is a high-ranking baron; ‘trisme’ is an institution analogous to marriage. ‘Trismet’ designates the people involved.”
    Pardero inspected the two figures. Both were represented to be tall, spare, dark-haired, and fair of complexion. The man wore a complicated costume of dark red cloth, a vest of black metal strips, a ceremonial helmet contrived of black metal and black fabric. The woman wore garments somewhat simpler: a long shapeless gown of gray gauze, white slippers, a loose black cap which framed the white starkly modeled features.
    “Typical Rhunes,” said Ollave. “They totally reject cosmopolitan standards and styles. Notice them as they stand there. Observe the cool and dispassionate expressions. Notice also, their garments have no elements in common, a clear signal that in the Rhune society male and female roles differ. Each is a mystery to the other; they might be members of different races!” He glanced sharply at Pardero. “Do they suggest anything to you?”
    “They are not strange, no more than the language was strange at Carfaunge.”
    “Just so.” Crossing the chamber to a projection screen, Ollave touched buttons.
    “Here is Port Mar, on the edge of the highlands.”
    A voice from the screen supplied a commentary to the scene. “You view the city Port Mar as you might from an aircar approaching from the south. The time is aud, which is to say, full daylight, with Furad, Maddar, Osmo, and Cirse in the sky.”
    The screen displayed a panorama of small residences half-concealed by foliage: structures built of dark timber and pink-tan stucco. The roofs rose at steep pitches, joining in all manner of irregular angles and eccentric gables: a style quaint and unusual. In many cases the houses had been extended and enlarged, the additions growing casually from the old structures like crystals growing from crystals. Other structures, abandoned, had fallen into ruins. “These houses were built by Majars, the original inhabitants of Marune. Very few pure-blooded Majars remain; the race is almost extinct, and Majartown is falling into disuse.
    The Majars, with the Rhunes, named the planet, which originally was known as ‘Majar-Rhune’. The Rhunes, arriving upon Marune, decimated the Majars, but were expelled by the Whelm into the eastern mountains, where to this day they are allowed no weapons of energy or attack.”
    The angle of view shifted to a hostelry of stately proportions. The commentator spoke: “Here you see the Royal Rhune Hotel, invariably patronized by those Rhunes who must visit Port Mar. The management is attentive to the special and particular Rhune needs.”
    The view shifted across a river to a district somewhat more modern. “You now observe the New Town,” said the commentator. “The Port Mar College of Arts and Technics, situated nearby, claims a distinguished faculty and almost ten thousand students, deriving both from Port Mar and from the