Chapter seventeen
Seg Segutorio builds a bowA slim paddler skimmed down the Kazzchun River passing without hindrance where any other boat would be forced to halt and declare occupants and contents. The Schinkitree flew the flags of Croxdrin; but the tresh that gained this imperious passage flew from a taller mast than any other banner. This was the personal flag of Kov Llipton allied to the kingdom’s messenger service.
Sitting on his comfortable chair in the stern, Tyr Naghan Shor brushed up his fierce whiskers and the streaming radiance of the suns glinted from his golden mane. Kov Llipton trusted folk of his own race to carry secret messages and discover intelligence of the river. The vague form of the Xaffer, squatting to one side, offended no one, for the Xaffers are a race strange a
