Chapter ten
“Give me your sword, jen, and you would see!”I, Dray Prescot, Lord of Strombor and Krozair of Zy, hunkered down under a thorn-ivy bush with a crossbow bolt through my thigh and could no longer curse. There was another bolt through my arm; but I was able to break off the leather flights and draw the confounded thing through and wrap a chunk of breechcloth around to check the bleeding.
All about me the yells and screams and moans of wounded and dying men beat fearfully into the lowering sky. The Suns of Scorpio were sinking over the field of c*****e, and already the scavengers were out, slinking like gray wolves from body to body — if the body was not dead at first, it soon became dead after.
“You will fight in the battle, will you not, Jak the Drang?” that stupid Kovneva Mart
