words, a stagecoach hurtled past, wheels rattling, driver’s whip cracking. The four of them stumbled back just in time to avoid being trampled. Travis knew just enough about history to be sure that, for everything that seemed familiar, a dozen other things would be dangerously different. People had perished every day in the Old West—from disease, from mishaps, from bullets.
Another coach rushed by as they started down Elk Street. A few more months, Travis supposed, and the narrow-gauge would reach Castle City; until then, the coaches would ferry people from the end of the line to the town’s main street. The coach lurched to a stop in front of the Silver Palace Hotel. Its door opened, and a man in a fine gray suit stepped out. He turned to help a lady down the coach’s steps. She was clad in yards and yards of black and maroon, with a massive bustle behind and peacock feathers trailing from her tiny hat.
Lirith brushed her plain brown dress, her dark ruby lips twisting in a wry smile. “Well, that certainly puts things in perspective for a woman.”
“Are those two the lord and lady here?” Durge said. “If so, we must go beg their hospitality.”
The man in the gray suit looked from side to side, his eyes shadowed beneath the brim of his bowler. The woman adjusted the netting that hung from the brim of her hat. He slipped an arm around her waist and whisked her inside the hotel.
Sareth let out a low chuckle. “Something tells me they’re not from around here. And that for all her finery, she’s no more a lady than he is a lord. Or at least not the kind of lady you mean, Durge.”
Crimson tinged the Embarran’s craggy cheeks. Sareth started to laugh, but Lirith turned her back, and the mirth died on his lips. He gazed at her, confusion in his dark eyes.
Durge regarded Travis. “If that is not the lord of this land, who is?”
“There are no lords here, Durge.”
“But who serves the king and queen?”
“There isn’t a king or queen, either.” Travis reached under his hat to scratch his head. “Well, there
is
a queen in England— the country across the ocean I was talking about last night. Her name is Victoria. And nobles from Europe did visit Colorado back then—I mean, in this time. I seem to remember something about a Russian grand duke who came to the West to hunt buffalo.” He sighed. “Although I suppose they’re already just about gone by now, aren’t they?”
Durge seemed to consider these words. “If you have no king in this land, how is order kept?”
Travis hadn’t considered how strange things here would be to people from a medieval world. He tried to think of a simple way to explain it. “Well, we have a president. I’m not sure who it would be right now. Grover Cleveland? No, he was a bit later—he was the one who made all of the silver miners go broke.” He shrugged. “Anyway, the people of the country elect a president every four years, along with a number of lawmakers. And each state has a governor. And there are local officials like mayors and sheriffs who are elected as well.”
“A curious system,” Durge rumbled in obvious distaste. “And who votes for these officials? Peasants?”
“Anyone over eighteen.” Travis rethought that. “Well, in my time, at least. Right now, women aren’t allowed to vote.”
Lirith turned back around and let out an exasperated sound. “I see some things are the same on any world.”
“I think this place is more like the Free Cities,” Sareth said to Durge and Lirith. “It’s not royal blood that matters, but gold and silver.”
Travis couldn’t argue with that. In his time, Castle City was a quiet town, especially when the handful of tourists left for the summer. However, the small city before him was alive with action.
People jostled past each other on the boardwalks that lined the streets, some in the dusty garb of miners and cowboys, others in black coats and stiff white shirts, checking gold pocket watches as
Another coach rushed by as they started down Elk Street. A few more months, Travis supposed, and the narrow-gauge would reach Castle City; until then, the coaches would ferry people from the end of the line to the town’s main street. The coach lurched to a stop in front of the Silver Palace Hotel. Its door opened, and a man in a fine gray suit stepped out. He turned to help a lady down the coach’s steps. She was clad in yards and yards of black and maroon, with a massive bustle behind and peacock feathers trailing from her tiny hat.
Lirith brushed her plain brown dress, her dark ruby lips twisting in a wry smile. “Well, that certainly puts things in perspective for a woman.”
“Are those two the lord and lady here?” Durge said. “If so, we must go beg their hospitality.”
The man in the gray suit looked from side to side, his eyes shadowed beneath the brim of his bowler. The woman adjusted the netting that hung from the brim of her hat. He slipped an arm around her waist and whisked her inside the hotel.
Sareth let out a low chuckle. “Something tells me they’re not from around here. And that for all her finery, she’s no more a lady than he is a lord. Or at least not the kind of lady you mean, Durge.”
Crimson tinged the Embarran’s craggy cheeks. Sareth started to laugh, but Lirith turned her back, and the mirth died on his lips. He gazed at her, confusion in his dark eyes.
Durge regarded Travis. “If that is not the lord of this land, who is?”
“There are no lords here, Durge.”
“But who serves the king and queen?”
“There isn’t a king or queen, either.” Travis reached under his hat to scratch his head. “Well, there
is
a queen in England— the country across the ocean I was talking about last night. Her name is Victoria. And nobles from Europe did visit Colorado back then—I mean, in this time. I seem to remember something about a Russian grand duke who came to the West to hunt buffalo.” He sighed. “Although I suppose they’re already just about gone by now, aren’t they?”
Durge seemed to consider these words. “If you have no king in this land, how is order kept?”
Travis hadn’t considered how strange things here would be to people from a medieval world. He tried to think of a simple way to explain it. “Well, we have a president. I’m not sure who it would be right now. Grover Cleveland? No, he was a bit later—he was the one who made all of the silver miners go broke.” He shrugged. “Anyway, the people of the country elect a president every four years, along with a number of lawmakers. And each state has a governor. And there are local officials like mayors and sheriffs who are elected as well.”
“A curious system,” Durge rumbled in obvious distaste. “And who votes for these officials? Peasants?”
“Anyone over eighteen.” Travis rethought that. “Well, in my time, at least. Right now, women aren’t allowed to vote.”
Lirith turned back around and let out an exasperated sound. “I see some things are the same on any world.”
“I think this place is more like the Free Cities,” Sareth said to Durge and Lirith. “It’s not royal blood that matters, but gold and silver.”
Travis couldn’t argue with that. In his time, Castle City was a quiet town, especially when the handful of tourists left for the summer. However, the small city before him was alive with action.
People jostled past each other on the boardwalks that lined the streets, some in the dusty garb of miners and cowboys, others in black coats and stiff white shirts, checking gold pocket watches as