The little hall of the boyar's house still smelled of plaster and paint; the last of the decoration had only been put in place that afternoon.  A curse on the lazy bastard Rus, Wulf thought; you had always to be behind them with a whip or else they assumed when you said tomorrow you meant some time next week.  Still, the house itself was well built and the outer palisade of the estate was sturdy and defensible.    It needed to be, stuck out here near to the river, with the forests so close, but his excellency had not wanted a place within the town of Vistina, so here they were a mile or so out; a place they called Ulyevna.  Maybe later on Sir Albrecht would take another estate in the town - the rich had much the same arrangement there, a private estate enclosed within a strong palisade, but perhaps a little smaller.  But for now this was to be their base.  Wulf had only arrived the day before himself,  to prepare all for his master's arrival tonight, and to ensure that the instructions of the Order had been carried out in full.  There had been some modifications made to the house and estate, and those had been made with efficiency and speed, overseen by the Order's most reliable agent in Vistina, the merchant Torsten.  The Swede had also disposed of the workmen who had made those modifications with commendable speed and efficiency, likewise their bodies.  But he had left the less important details to the Rus major-domo he had hired, and that fellow had been slack.  Wulf smiled grimly; he would not be so slap-dash again when dealing with the affairs of Ritter Albrecht von Schwarz.<br/><br/>A horn sounded from above - the watchman in the tower on the gate (another Rus arrangement of which the Teutonic squire heartily approved) must have spotted the knight's retinue on the road.  Wulf glanced around to make sure all was in readiness for the lord's arrival.  The izba was comfortably warm, heated by a white-washed, heavily patterned  brick stove with a chimney standing in one corner.  Thick beeswax candles standing in iron holders lit the room, far brighter than back home in Mainz - Ulyevna was named for its beehives.   Carved wooden chairs stood to each side of a long, decorated wooden chest draped with a thick embroidered cloth, and on the cloth a pitcher of wine and empty goblets, and a silver platter with a loaf of bread and  a little bowl of salt crystals, left according to Rus custom.  Behind one chair a servant girl of around 14 stood bobbing nervously, a clean white embroidered kerchief hiding her corn-blonde hair and a matching embroidered apron over her red bouse and skirt.  'Be still, girl!' Wulf barked in his poor Rus, and she flushed and made an effort to stop fidgeting.  Satisfied, the squire strode outside and down the steps from the porch of the house into the courtyard.  The gate was just being hauled open, two men to each of the heavy gates.   Two more men ran through as soon as the gap was wide enough, carrying burning torches to guide their new master home.  A drumming of hooves on the road turned to a loud clatter as the horses pounded through onto the paved wood and stone of the courtyard, and there was Ritter Albrecht at last!