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Nathaniel Woods, slender and of above average height, with long brown hair ungathered and light brown eyes, would lead the expedition no matter what Colonel Rathfield believed. Born in Mystria and more at home in the forests than in town, Nathaniel had a keen love for the land. He wore beaded buckskin leggings and a loincloth, moccasins and a leather tunic with fringed sleeves. The knife at his belt was the only weapon on him; his rifle and a tomahawk had already been stowed in his canoe.

With him stood Kamiskwa, a prince of the Altashee, one of the Twilight People. Rathfield tried not to stare at him, but to no avail. Owen could understand, as the Mystrian native looked unlike any human being in Auropa. Shorter yet more heavily muscled than Nathaniel, Kamiskwa’s flesh had a gray cast to it with greenish undertones, which all but made him invisible in the forest. His long, evergreen hair had been braided and knotted off with a beaded leather cord. Restless amber eyes moved quickly, as might those of a predator. Like Nathaniel, he wore moccasins, leggings, and a loincloth, the latter woven with a bear-paw design that proclaimed his descent from Msitazi, the leader of the Altashee. He wore a knife and had a warclub slung over his back. A variety of tattoos and scars marked him, but his coloration made them difficult to see.

Count Joachim von Metternin of Kesse-Saxeburg had attired himself most ostentatiously. He wore bleached buckskins as close to white as possible. The tunic had been beaded in the Shedashee style by Ishikis, one of Kamiskwa’s sisters, but the image was of lion rampant in coral-the von Metternin family crest. Perched on his head, hiding all but a few errant locks of brown hair, was a white foxskin cap with the ears still upthrust and the tail dangling at the back of the neck. The Count had shot the fox himself and was inordinately proud of that fact, so he wore the cap at every suitable opportunity.

Though von Metternin was not a small man, Makepeace Bone dwarfed him. Tall and powerfully built, the first thing anyone noticed was a trio of scars raking forward from his crown to his left eyebrow. They were a memento of an encounter with an angry bear that Makepeace managed to kill with his bare hands. Born of a family professing the Virtuan faith, Makepeace, along with two of his brothers-Tribulation and Justice-had helped win the battle at Anvil Lake. Makepeace wore buckskins with no decoration and, save for the smile splitting a thick brown beard, one might have thought he would be given to considerable melancholy.

Owen and Hodge Dunsby had also donned skins for traveling. Owen chose to wear the leggings, loincloth, and tunic given to him by Msitazi. His tunic featured a beaded bear paw. Hodge’s clothes were more modest but he’d killed the deer himself, tanned the hides, cut and sewed them together with minimal help. Though his inexperience showed, his pride in self-sufficiency lit his face brightly.

Owen found Rathfield’s outfit distressing. When Owen had headed out for the first time, he’d insisted on wearing his uniform. Beginning with his boots, it had begun to deteriorate almost immediately. Nathaniel and Kamiskwa managed to convince him to adopt more practical attire. I was a complete fool, and had they not coerced me into sensible clothes, I should have been naked and humiliated three weeks out of Temperance. Owen had been hoping that Rathfield would be as foolish and arrogant as he’d been-a petty desire, he acknowledged, but he’d revel in the man’s ignorance.

Rathfield, however, had arrived in Mystria prepared for his journey. He wore buckskins and moccasins similar to those the others wore, save that these had been tailored in Launston, based on a drawing of Mystrian native garb. Rathfield had also specified that the leather be dyed such that two broad black stripes ran from shoulder to waist in the front, and two red stripes angled up from his breastbone toward the shoulders, mirroring the pattern on the Fifth Northlands Cavalry uniform.

Prince Vlad stepped forward to make the final introductions. “Colonel, I believe you have yet to meet Mr. Nathaniel Woods, Mr. Makepeace Bone, and Prince Kamiskwa.”

Rathfield offered Nathaniel and Makepeace both his hand, but after they shook, he clasped both hands behind his back and bowed his head toward Kamiskwa, in the Shedashee style of greeting. Since magick works at a touch, the Shedashee see a handshake as a potential attack. Owen wasn’t certain how Rathfield had learned that much about the Shedashee, but was getting a sinking feeling that it was through having read Owen’s book.

That didn’t please Owen, but nothing about Rathfield had. Having housed Rathfield for over a week had not improved the situation. Owen knew he’d been arrogant when he came to Mystria, but he hadn’t been that arrogant. That Rathfield would be learning from mistakes that had cost Owen dearly hardly seemed fair. And though Rathfield’s very presence had lightened Catherine’s mood substantially, Owen still didn’t like him.

Nathaniel looked Rathfield up and down. “I’m wondering, Colonel, iffen all your clothes got them stripes on them.”

Rathfield smiled proudly. “Horse Guards issued a special order adopting this as an official uniform. Why do you ask?”

The scout stepped forward and poked the man in the chest, right where the red stripes would have converged. “I’m just thinking this draws the eye to a mighty good spot for shooting.”

“Indeed.” Rathfield looked down at Nathaniel. “Then I would suggest, Mr. Woods, that it is your job to alert me if anyone is close enough to make that shot.”

“I reckon it is, Colonel.”

The Prince clapped his hands. “I want you to know that I dearly wish I was going with you. Please, Colonel Rathfield and Captain Strake, promise you’ll let me make copies of your expedition journals.”

“A pleasure, Highness.”

“As Horse Guards allow, Highness, yes, of course.”

“Thank you. I won’t keep you.” The Prince waved them toward the three canoes tied to the dock. “Owen, a quick word, if I might?”

“Yes, Highness.”

They withdrew up the lawn a bit and the Prince pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. “I have a list for you. Wouldn’t be an expedition if I didn’t, would it?”

Owen unfolded it and read quickly. “I’ll bring samples back if possible, Highness, and let hunters know you’re looking for some of these things. A dwarf mastodon?”

“A correspondent in Auropa suggests that high mountain valleys might create the same effect as isolated islands-which is to encourage dwarfism in larger creatures. Think of the valleys as islands in the sky, if you will.” Vlad smiled encouragingly. “I know bringing one back would be difficult, but were you to describe one in the detail you’ve put into previous reports, it would enrich the world of science. We could, in fact, name the species after your daughter.”

That brought a smile to Owen’s face. “If it is possible, Highness, it will be done.”

The Prince’s smile shrank. “Did you happen to pack a copy of A Continent’s Calling?”

“No, Highness, I brought Haste’s new book. I thought Caleb gave you a copy.”

“He did. He did. Very good. We shall use The Blood of Liberty. As needed.”

“Yes, Highness.” Owen shivered. Prince Vlad had instructed Owen on how to use a book to encode messages. Establishing a protocol for doing so on this trip meant the Prince did not wholly trust Rathfield. If he saw anything odd, Owen would send word to the Prince.

Prince Vlad slipped an arm over the man’s shoulder and led him further up the lawn to where Catherine and Miranda stood with Princess Gisella. “I was just saying to Captain Strake, Mrs. Strake, that I am very pleased you’ve consented to join our household here while your husband is away in service to the Crown.”