Chapter four
A sick bird brings a taskDown south in the continent of Havilfar where saddle birds and animals are much more in evidence than here in Vallia or in Pandahem, they say that if the velvety green feathers of your fluttrell show a lemonish-yellow tinge around the edges — beware!
The beigey-white feathers of the fluttrell I had chosen glistened healthily. His eyes were bright. His talons sharp. That stupid head vane fluttrells have been cursed with — or blessed with, perhaps, if it materially assists their flying — was undamaged. His harness shone with saddle soap and leather polish, ministrations of his late dead owner.
I suppose, to be perfectly truthful, there was a faint tinge of yellow around his green feathers. I ought to have taken more care about that; but, then, I was s
