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artists are hard at work on the painting of Luke and the Bayemot. The great Gwulum himself is painting the figure of Luke because he cannot trust any of his disciples to do it well enough. It was a strange and dazzling time, your stay with us.”
    Strange and dazzling for me also, but I said nothing.
    â€œYou had said you would return, and I think you are a man who keeps his word. But your return must be for one thing: our marriage. From that must come a shared life together, a real thing, not a dream. And for me a life in an unknown land and city, since a wife must go to her husband’s country.
    â€œSo I resolved to come and see that country first, and to see you in it. Not Luke from beyond the Burning Lands, Luke the Slayer of the Bayemot; but Luke of Winchester and in Winchester. My father promised me to you and he too keeps his promises. But I know you would not yourself hold me to a promise to which my heart gave no assent. So I have come to see, before any irrevocable step is taken, the place where I might live and, I suppose, die at last. And the man with whom that life might be spent.”
    She had said this last with a serious face, in no jest but in earnest. I knew she meant it. The awareness struck into me, almost with the cold bite of steel, that I was not sure of her. Her coming here was evidence of that: not reassurance but its opposite.
    I suppose my face showed something of my feelings. She said:
    â€œCheer up, Luke! We are neither of us likely to die just yet. And it gives you the chance to think again as well. I would not hold you to your word, either.”
    I said, stammering: “You . . . do not need to.”
    â€œDon’t I?” She looked at me, amused. “You would make a poor courtier, Luke. But being a Prince you have no need to play that role. And I am glad of it. We have glib courtiers enough in Klan Gothlen. You are a warrior. Now, tell me about all your battles and victories.”
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    When Edmund joined us he took her hands and kissed her on the cheek as I had done. I was glad to see them so pleased to see each other. They fell to chattering at once, about people we had known at the court of King Cymru. I recalled them well enough myself, but had nothing to say of them.
    She had no warning to give to him, of course, so there was no shadow of seriousness and therefore less constraint. In fact his presence made things easier for me as well. I could relax, listening to them talk. I did not have much to contribute, but it was enough to hear them.
    Edmund spoke of the banquet which would celebrate her coming. She said eagerly that she loved banquets; she wished it were this evening instead of the next day. Edmund chaffed her, saying it was her vanity that prompted the wish: to sit at the head of the table and see the eyes of all Winchester’s Captains engrossed with her beauty.
    She tossed her head. “I am not so vain as to think your Captains must look at me in preference to your own ladies.”
    â€œPerhaps they would not if they had a choice. But since you will be the only lady present, at whom else should they look? At each other?”
    â€œThe only lady present?” She looked at me. “Surely not! Your ladies will not refuse to greet me?”
    â€œNo,” I said, “but it is not our custom to have ladies at our banquets. That was something we found strange in your city.”
    â€œCan you not change your custom?”
    â€œIt would not be easy.”
    Edmund laughed and we both looked at him. He said:
    â€œI was thinking of another custom that onewould not have thought it easy to change—of the Prince who turned a dwarf into a warrior!”
    â€œWhat is this?”
    He told her the story of Hans. She listened and turned to me.
    â€œThere, Luke! If you can break one custom you can break another.”
    â€œIt is not the same thing.”
    â€œIn what way is it different?”
    I