Chapter sevenNo time for bowshots. Time only to leap forward into action.
On Kregen, even during a peaceful dinner party, fighting men and women habitually carried a sufficiency of weaponry. The Krozair brand leaped from the scabbard. The toad people, screeching and croaking out their guttural staccato, swarmed out of the red and green dappled shadows. We met them, fronted them. A frenzied fight began as the last rays of Zim and Genodras sank into darkness.
These damned Schnarlers, creeping out of their swamp homes, preyed upon innocent travelers. Their whole tribes were bandits, drikingers, taking what they could kill and rob from caravans whose protection was not sufficient. We had to defend ourselves, there was no other option.
Seg’s superb physique corded with muscle as he swung his
