Chapter eighteen
In the recalcitrants house“Obfaril!” said Naghan the Gnat. The sword smith spoke with a tone of sharp rebuke. We roared along after the slaves and the werstings, Huringa and a beautiful golden-furred Fristle fifi ahead. “Young Oby!” said Naghan. “The managers will not connect us that quickly. Yes, they will in time—”
“We have no time, Gnat!”
“Time. It will take them time to connect. Two mangy slaves run off — they’ll expect to recapture them very quickly. Only when they do not will they think to look deeper. Then the records will be hard to find — there will be time.” Naghan clenched his fists around the reins and lifted his head defiantly. “Dear Opaz! There has got to be time enough!”
The mention of Vad Noran’s name and the business that brought us to the city did not
