A rumble and whine coming from the Artificers' Tower, where they prepared some marvelous and expensive experiment, distracted his thoughts, but his feet knew the way. He walked the corridors of the Serpent Wing: Two turns left, one right, sharp left, up and down a ramp, ignoring the dozens of false passages. He did not doubt that, should it make a difference to Sherez, Owen would put on salty burlap again. Did it matter to Sherez, that now he wore fine clean silks to visit the dragonium? The Count doubted that it did. He rolled the map tight and put it in the white sash of his green silk robe. but then they'll not sail if they're not to return, will they, Sherez? A wondrous profitable voyage, he thought, if the ships return. He looked over the inked outline of the Gold Coast. Owen III Count XXI Hanowald watched his sea-captain stump and jingle away, and drummed fingers on the chart upon his dark oak desk.
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