Chapter three
Barty Vessler, Strom of CalimbrevI hitched up the huge brown beard on its silver wires over my ears, and smoothed down the golden plates of the helmet. I turned to let Delia see me.
She lay on an elbow, her white gown voluptuous in its curves and lines, and started to laugh so that the little gilt sofa shook.
“Dray! Dray! You look—”
“I look like a shaggy graint of a clansman. If that is the way the good folk of Vondium imagine me — then that is the way they can see me.”
Much had happened since yesterday, when Delia had met me on the high landing platform. Now we prepared in our own private apartments for the great thanksgiving ceremony. Much of what had happened was talk. There were other things; but they remain between Delia and me. Now we put on fine fancy clothes, rea
