“Constructs,” Merrin replied casually. “We call them ‘Dolls.’ Ever so much more efficient than humans. They don’t need rest, they don’t need food, they can’t be hurt, and if one is broken, you can just burn it and replace it.”

“Dolls” seemed an apt description for the things. They were more or less human shaped, better constructed than a scarecrow since they had jointed limbs and actually moved with a fair amount of grace, but there was no way they could ever be mistaken for anything but what they were. They seemed to be sewn out of canvas, with a suggestion of eyes, a nose, and a mouth, but nothing like a real face. Their heads were without any sort of ornamentation. As they neared, Kordas thought there was some sort of jointed skeleton inside the padded, sexless bodies.

“Greetings, Great Lord Merrin,” said the first one in line in a high, breathy voice. “This one is assigned to conduct you to your apartment. Will you require replacements for your human entourage?”

There must be some sort of . . . intelligence bound inside those things. But what? Whatever it was . . . this was profoundly wrong. Everything in him revolted against this. It was, to his core, disturbing.

Were there actual demons in there?

Somehow he didn’t think so. Mind, I’ve never had anything to do with demons. But still, I wouldn’t think they’d be so polite.

“I will require servants, and so will my entourage,” Merrin replied, carelessly.

“Very good, my lord. If you and your entourage will accompany this one, your beasts will be taken to the stables, and your luggage will be brought immediately.” The Doll waited silently while Merrin and his men dismounted, then as they were led off, an entire group of Dolls emerged from a storage shelter, where they had simply hung on a rack like jackets. They removed the baggage from the mules and led the beasts back into what must be the area of the stables.

Another of the Dolls approached Kordas. “Greetings, Great Duke Valdemar,” said the Doll, in a voice so like the first one’s that he could not have told them apart. “This one is assigned as your receiver, to conduct you to your apartment. Will you require replacements for your human entourage?”

Kordas gave himself a mental slap to break himself out of his stupor. “These are very special horses,” he said, tentatively.

“Yes,” the Doll replied. “Two are Valdemar Golds. They all are your Duchy’s tribute to our Glorious Emperor. All will be taken to the stables and given the best of attention, and the finest fodder. Will you require replacements for your entourage?” As it spoke, the other Dolls took the packs down from the backs of the false Golds, and waited silently for instructions.

“All but my Herald are to return immediately to Valdemar,” he said, still not sure what the right answer was.