His timing had been good. The head of the long train was nearly across the wide grassland. For a moment, the thought crossed his mind that he might go out and meet the caravan master. But he discarded it. It would be somewhat undignified for the master of the estate to serve as a mere caravan guide. He stood, waiting.
He could see Dar Makun sitting between the armor fins of his riding lizard. The reptile was one of the heavily armored breed he had considered raising over in the northwest sector.
They were, he had been told,
normally dryland creatures. Such brutes should thrive over in the flats, where the long-necks did poorly. He would have to consider the acquisition of some breeding stock.
The caravan master drew his mount to a halt and drifted toward the trees. Barra examined the man closely as he approached.
He was a tall, slender man, perfectly at ease in his plain trail clothing. A few control jewels glinted from his fingers and he wore a small shield brooch, but there was no heavy equipment. His distorter staff, Barra noted, was a plain rod, tipped by a small jewel. Serviceable, to be sure, but rather short in range. Barra’s lip curled a trifle.
This man was not of really great substance, he decided. He probably had his entire wealth tied up in this one caravan and depended on his fees and on the sale of some few goods of his own to meet expenses.
As Dar Makun dropped to the ground near him, Barra nodded.
“I have instructed my headman to attend to your drivers and beasts,” he said. “You have personal baggage?”
The other smiled. “Thank you. I’ll have one of the boys bring my pack while the drivers pull up and unload. We can make our stack here, if you don’t mind.”