So that the mud brick
and timber erections of one of their clan cities resembled nothing so
much as the comb cells of a busy beehive. Although Paft's was considered
a large clan, it numbered only about two hundred fighting men and their
numerous wives, children and captive servants. Not all of them normally
lived at this center, but for the funeral feasting they had
assembled--which meant a lot of doubling up and tenting out under
makeshift cover between the regular buildings of the town. So that the
Terrans were glad to be guided through this crowded maze to the Great
Hall which was its heart.
As the trading center had been, the hall was a circular enclosure open to
the sky above but divided in wheel-spoke fashion with posts of the red
wood, each supporting a metal basket filled with imflammable material.
Here were no lowly stools or trading tables. One vast circular board,
broken only by a gap at the foot, ran completely around the wall. At the
end opposite the entrance was the high chair of the chieftain, set on a
two step dais. Though the feast had not yet officially begun, the Terrans
saw that the majority of the places were already occupied.
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