Chapter eight
A roll of gold for Jespar the ScundleThe first question to ask in these circumstances is: “Which way did they go?”
Murkizon growled out the question and the Fristle shook and shivered and stuttered: “Lord, lord, I do not know.”
“Where’s Pando?”
The uproar in the yard we now saw was mostly from slaves scared witless, men and women who had been wounded, and not a needleman in sight, and folk who just rushed about aimlessly. The kov, we learned, had ridden out in pursuit with a large party of his retainers and most of the guard led by the cadade.
“So he knew which way to go,” said Pompino.
The hubbub continued unabated. Slaves were taking full advantage of the confusion to do what slaves tend to do given half the chance. I saw one fellow staggering off to the back quarters
