The Taleweaver

Arrival, part three

When Harbend didn't receive any further comments he turned around eying the ugly sky port. The slated roof with its two small gun towers, manned by outworlder soldiers, were the same as always. From both ends of the building an ugly wall stretched over three hundred paces in each direction. The entire complex resembled a long, straight piece of a giant, polished horn lying in the mud.

The horses not bound at the arrival gate stood grazing by the wall still saddled and harnessed. He gave the troops a thorough look. Uniforms dirty, leather showing cracks where it hadn't been oiled properly and the yellow and green bore telltale spots of earlier meals. Some of the men had tired eyes and they hadn't even assigned a man to check the horses feeding by the wall. Of a full squadron less than ten men were doing anything useful at the arrival gate. Discipline must have grown lax over the last year.

Harbend threw Arthur a glance but he was deeply occupied with thoughts of his own. Daylight exposed more of the outworlder. Face angular and well kept. Blue hair that must have been colored, because brown was hidden deep beneath it. Eyes shifting between blue and green. Hands that had not seen hard work in a long time ended in too large fingers revealing he was turning fat. As all outworlders he was taller by far than the average here.

Then there were the clothes. All of them red, shifting grades of red, all shiny and none of it fitting together. Something never deciding if it was a shirt or a jacket was buttoned onto a pair of trousers so tight only the fact that it was of outworlder design and make kept it from bursting. All in all the outfit hurt Harbend's eyes.