They paused at the very spot where Fa’red’s deadmoon warriors had viewed the capital. Jelindel and Zimak dismounted and marvelled at the view of the city from a stone wall beside the road. Daretor remained on his horse. ‘I never dreamed there could be such a wonderful city,’ said Zimak. Jelindel had seen sketches of Dremari in books, but as usual they did no justice to the real thing. For a time they just sat there marvelling that humans like them could have built such a wonder. ‘So, there is said to be a linkrider here,’ declared Daretor at last, as always returning to his vendetta against the accursed dragonlinks and linkriders. ‘It is a big city, and links are very small.’ ‘When we are closer I can do a survey from the close paraplane,’ suggested Jelindel. ‘Links show up distinctly there. Besides, the mailshirt will glow on this plane, too.’ Entry to the city was not easy. They had to pass a customs checkpoint, pay an entry fee and prove that they were carrying the equivalent of a month’s wages for their declared trade.
