Chapter twenty
Makfaril’s sacrificeSomeone was saying from a great distance: “The yetch is the Prince Majister of Vallia? It is difficult to believe.” The words boomed and went up and down as though echoing in a gigantic sea shell. “What did he want creeping about down here?”
And the coarse answer: “By the Black Feathers! Whatever it was he will never find it now. Makfaril has ordained his death.”
I opened my eyes. Well, cells are cells. This one cut from the rock boasted a barred window through which torchlight streamed, so I crawled across with all Beng Kishi’s tinkers hammering out their bells in my skull, and listened as best I could.
“Come the Black Day and all the princes and Princesses will dangle-o!”
“Aye, dom. And then you’n me’ll be princes.”
They sounded apim. Masichieri.
