Mark Spain Dance I

Mark Spain Dance IMark Spain Crescendo IIMark Spain Crescendo I
piled together and, in those places where the roof had leaked, were rusted into a lump. There were longbows, short bows, pistol bows, stirrup bows, and crossbows, piled like firewood and stacked with the same lack of care. Odd bits of armor were piled in more heaps, and were red with rust. In fact rust was everywhere. The whole huge room was full of the death of iron.
Magrat went The voice came from outside the door, far behind
Magrat. But it echoed around her, bouncing off the centuries of mouldering armaments.
They can’t come in here, Magrat thought. Too much iron. In here, I’m safe.
“If lady wants to play, we will fetch her friends.”
As Magrat turned, the light caught the edge of some-thing, and gleamed.
Magrat pulled aside a huge shield.on, like some clockwork toy that won’t change direction until it bumps into something.The candlelight was reflected dully in helmets andbreastplates. The sets of horse armor in particular were ter-rible, on their rotting wooden frames—they stood like exte-rior skeletons, and, like skeletons, nudged the mind into220LQR08 ftl^O Lft0/£8thoughts of mortality. Empty eye sockets stared sightlessly down at the little candlelit figure.“Lady?”