Chapter fourteen
Lol Polisto ti SygurdHaving outdistanced the pursuit we eased our mounts. We intended to be long away from this neighborhood by dawn. We had suffered six casualties, and carried with us ten or so who bore wounds, light or serious. Not one, thank Zair, of my choice band had taken so much as a scratch. They were by way of becoming your well-accomplished band of desperadoes, to be sure.
Lol Polisto said with a matter-of-fact simplicity that carried more chill conviction than any amount of loud-mouthed bragging: “The cramphs have my wife Thelda and our child and I am going to get them out.”
“Where?” I said to him, just as quietly.
“In a camp they’ve set up at Trakon’s Pillars.”
“Ah!”
“You know of the accursed place? Surrounded by bogs, deep and dark and treacherous. And
