Chapter fifteen
Kov Llipton“By Mother Zinzu the Blessed,” exclaimed Zarado. “I needed that!”
He wiped the froth from his lips with a scrap of once-yellow linen. Seg’s heart warmed to the Krozair. How many times he had heard that heartfelt expression!
Khardun and the Dorvenhork were still on speaking terms, and were sharing a bottle companionably. The others had their bottles and tankards on the sturmwood table, and the slaking of thirsts went on at a prodigious rate.
About them the noise of the taproom of The Aeilssa and the Risslaca flowed on in a muted fashion, for it was late and most of the fisherfolk had already left. The few farmers had gone long ago and only the merchants and the mewsany handlers seemed to have time to spend to sit and drink past the hour of dim.
“This is all v
