The courtyard was large enough to seem uncrowded, though there were at least twenty people passing through it as the two Brothers entered with their charge. A few of these were guards, but most were obviously servants of the House, lingering to see who was coming in, looking for excuses to pause in their work. Even the children playing with wooden balls in the far corner left off and came to see what the visitors were about. Unlike Karlyn-Tan, all of these wore a kind of livery with the house colors of teal and black showing on collars and cuffs.

The Steward of Walls led them across the yard.

“You may wait here if you wish,” he said, turning to address Dhulyn and Parno. “You have Brothers within these walls, and they can be summoned to attend you.”

“We are not yet discharged,” Parno said.

“Of course.” A slight bow. “In that case, I must ask that you leave your weapons here.” He motioned, and one of the watching guards approached. Dhulyn smiled her wolf’s smile, drew her sword, and presented it with a flourish. A broad smile passed over the Steward’s lips as he accepted her weapon with a bow. She could like this fellow, Dhulyn thought. Only a special kind of man retained his sense of humor in this position. Parno handed his sword without ceremony to the waiting guard.

The Steward waited a moment more, but neither Mercenary moved. “I’m afraid I must ask for all of your weapons,” he said.

Dhulyn’s own smile became more pronounced. “You could strip us naked, and still not have all of our weapons,” she said, lifting her left eyebrow.

“Lady, I would wager that was so.” Karlyn-Tan held her gaze with his very clear blue eyes as the people in the courtyard gave up any pretense of passing through and began to gather more closely around them.

Parno coughed. Dhulyn gave him a sidelong look, but he was only gazing at her blandly. She shrugged and nodded. They’d done this before, and they knew how to make a show of it-and that making a show of it would enhance their reputation without frightening anyone. She and Parno began to shed weapons like a wet dog sheds water. Between them they disposed of three knives, one almost long enough to qualify as a short sword, four thrust daggers, and two wrist knives and five throwing stars. They paused. The crowd of House people began to whisper among themselves.

The children crept closer still and poked at each other. Parno winked at the nearest, stroked his now well-established beard, reached into the back of his tunic, and pulled out a silvered throwing quoit. Dhulyn rolled her eyes to the heavens, as though calling on the Outlander gods of Sky and Rain to witness Parno’s foolishness. Parno shrugged and smiled sheepishly, making the children giggle. The Steward grinned and said nothing. People in the small crowd surrounding them muttered and Dhulyn heard the chink of coin. She reached over her shoulder with her left hand, pushing it down the back of her vest as if to reach a bad itch, and drew out a tiny hatchet. Parno looked thoughtful, drew four black metal tubes from the top of his boot and added them to the pile.

The Partners looked at each other. Parno frowned. Dhulyn shrugged, unbuckled the wallet at her waist and simply added it, belt and all, to the pile. Parno nodded. They turned their attention back to the Steward of Walls, eyes wide and innocent, hands clasped behind their backs, looking almost exactly as they had looked before. There were grins and murmurs of admiration among the watching gatemen, and a small child whistled and started to clap.

“What, no maces, pikes, or longbows?” the Steward’s voice was dry, but his eye sparkled. Someone laughed aloud.

“Awkward to carry through the street, don’t you think?” Dhulyn said, her eyebrows innocently raised. “It would be better if these were not touched,” she added more seriously, indicating the collection of cutting edges and sharpened points piled on the ground beside them. “Some have more edges than are apparent to the untrained eye.”

Still smiling, shaking his head, Karlyn-Tan handed Dhulyn’s sword to the young woman who had stepped forward to assist him. “I doubt you would find many willing to try,” he said. “I’ll see that they’re kept safe.” He gestured, and the young woman bowed.

When they turned once more to the House door, it was to find a plainly but richly dressed woman standing on the bottom step, her House crest sewn into the left shoulder of her overtunic. Karlyn-Tan turned and stepped closer to Mar. “Lady Mar-eMar,” he said. “May I introduce your Steward of Keys?” This was a small woman whose slimness made her appear taller. The skin of her face was smooth and unlined, her hair completely covered by the embroidered headdress that marked her position and status. Dhulyn looked closely at her. Tradition had it, Parno had explained, that the Steward of Keys could never leave the House itself. This lowest doorstep was as close as the woman would ever come to the world outside.

“Welcome, Mar-eMar,” the woman said. She bowed from the waist. “I am Semlin-Nor, your Steward of Keys.” Her voice was sharply rough, like metal that had been through a fire. “If you will follow me, I will take you to the Tenebroso.”

Noises in the courtyard had drawn Gundaron the Scholar out of the narrow room he used as his private study to the window built into the wall outside his door. At first he couldn’t follow what was happening three stories below him. A small crowd of idlers were gathering around two, or perhaps three, people in the courtyard. Gundaron recognized Karlyn-Tan standing to one side, but… was it jugglers or actors? It seemed there was some kind of performance. Conjurers? Gundaron leaned out as far as he dared through the window, taking a firm grip on the sill. He’d always loved conjurers, ever since one had come to the farm when he was a child and made all the kittens in the house appear and disappear.

These two-no, three, that young girl in dusty clothing was definitely with them-were performing that old favorite, pulling improbable things out of their clothing. The slighter of the two conjurers, a red-haired woman-

Gundaron sucked in his breath, his hand going to cover his mouth. These weren’t conjurers at all, they were Mercenary Brothers; he’d seen the woman’s badge clearly when she twisted to pull something out from between her shoulder blades. A pair of Mercenaries being admitted into the House. One of them a tall, redheaded woman.

The Red Horseman. It had to be. Dhulyn Wolfshead herself, and much earlier than he would have expected. She and her Partner must be everything their Brother here at Tenebro House had said they were. And she was a Red Horseman; no one could be in any doubt about that. He could see her natural southern pallor from here, and no dye would get hair quite that blood-red color, even if a Mercenary Brother would trouble to dye it. He let his hands fall from his face and dragged in a lungful of air. Finally, a chance to prove his theories. There’d been nothing new added to scholarship on the Marked since Holderon’s day. Nothing until now.

Gundaron rapidly reviewed the list of questions he would ask her. He was fairly certain the books he needed to refer to were still in the large workroom where he’d first assembled them when he’d learned of Dhulyn Wolfshead’s existence. His methods might be considered a bit unorthodox by the Libraries if they ever came to light, but the benefit to the body of knowledge was incalculable.

He blinked back to the present moment when he realized that the activity in the courtyard had changed. Karlyn-Tan had taken the hand of the young girl with the Brothers and was presenting her to Semlin-Nor. The girl was standing awkwardly, her hand looking stiff in Karlyn’s grasp, but she was acknowledging Semlin’s bow very bravely, very properly, like a frightened but well-brought-up child.