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main gates. It had been one of his special tasks when he rode with the Trader.
Most of the war wags' crews, when entering a strange ville or frontier
pesthole, would appear uninterested and would wave and shout to the
inhabitants, greeting sec men in the same way, making it appear like they
didn't care about the way a place looked.
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Deathlands 26 - Shadowfall
But Ryan and, sometimes, J.B., would be hidden away, using the ob slits,
carefully taking note of every detail of the defenses and the layout of the
buildings, reporting to Trader within the hour and giving him a sketch plan
that showed the relevant points of strength.
And weakness.
The ville of Baron Weyman was solidly built, looking as though it probably
dated from around the latter half of the nineteenth century.
The outer wall was a dozen feet high, granite, lipped with iron points, some
of which had corroded and rusted. Threads of razored barbed wire still hung
here and there, plaited around the remaining spikes. In its day it had to have
been a formidable barrier, but now it wouldn't have stopped a determined
ten-year-
old.
There was a set of double gates, made from wrought-iron, in a complicated
pattern of leaves and vines.
Two sec men stood by the gates, each holding a crossbow. Beyond them there was
a cobbled courtyard, with the house closing in on three of its sides. The
first-floor windows were barred, with ironbound sec shutters. A wide path lead
around the side of the building to what Ryan guessed was probably the stable
area of the ville and the sec force's living quarters.
"What a fine building," Doc said admiringly. "Such a truly superb setting at
the foot of the mountains."
Trader looked at him as though he had serious doubts about the older man's
sanity. "What you are looking at, Doc, is a pretty peach with a rotten center
that is just sitting here waiting to be plucked."
"You the outlanders that Rainey warned us to expect?" one of the guards
called.
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"Yeah."
"Go straight on through. Main door to the ville's ahead of you. Rainey's
inside someplace. Likely he'll take you to meet Baron Weyman."
They filed through the gates. Ryan turned and looked back along the trail,
J.B. stopping at his shoulder.
"Thinking what I'm thinking?" the Armorer asked.
"I'm thinking that the trees and bushes should be cut right back for a good
hundred paces. Way they stand now, any stupe mutie could crawl in close enough
to rush the gates."
J.B. adjusted his glasses. "Crossbow can be deadly in the right hands. But
it's one of the slowest weapons in Deathlands. Can take fifteen or twenty
seconds to crank it up and loose a second bolt."
"And in twenty seconds a charge could be through the gates and into the
house."
"Right. I've seen a crossbow quarrel go clean through an inch of planed oak.
For a man on watch,
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Deathlands 26 - Shadowfall assuming that there's a serious shortage of decent
blasters, give me a good yew longbow every time."
Ryan agreed. "Seen Apache and Oglala have six arrows in the air at once from a
longbow."
"You two coming in?" Krysty stood by the heavy front door to the ville.
Bill Rainey had appeared behind her, with a young boy at his side. Ryan
immediately saw the passing resemblance between his own son and Baron Weyman's
boy. But Dean was stronger built, broader across the shoulders and his hair
was longer.
And he carried a Browning Hi-power 9 mm blaster at his hip.
"Come ahead, outlanders," the sec boss called. "Baron's waiting to greet you."
He pointed at Dean. "Come and meet Jamie Weyman, young Cawdor."
Dean took a couple of steps, giving a casual half wave to the other boy, who
came directly down the short flight of stairs, hand extended toward him.
"Welcome, Dean Cawdor," Jamie Weyman said in a confident, clear voice.
"Welcome to my father's ville."
"Thanks. Yeah, thanks." He hesitantly shook the other boy's hand.
"Think they'll hit it off, lover?" Krysty whispered in Ryan's ear.
"Mebbe."
A LARGE ENTRANCE HALL led toward a wide staircase of stone. The carpet had
obviously once been rich and ornate but now looked dusty and threadbare.
The walls were wood-paneled, with rectangular spaces where paintings had
probably once hung. There was a notable absence of any kind of decorationno
decent draperies, no china, no furniture of note. Just the barest essentials.
Rainey led the way up the stairs toward a shadowed landing with a number of
doors. Ryan followed, with the rest of the group trailing along behind him.
Dean and Jamie Weyman brought up the rear. The baron's son was keeping up a
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