Chapter eight
Seg quenches a fireShooting through the windrush of a voller’s flight is a truly difficult business. Seg had little difficulty aiming with the uncanny marksmanship of a Master Bowman of Loh. Seg had finished off my training as a bowman, after my ferocious Clansmen of Segesthes had taken me in hand, and I tried to match Seg, shaft for shaft.
“One gold piece, Dray, or — perchance — three?”
The wind caught at his dark hair, tumbled the locks over his forehead. His fey blue eyes challenged me right heartily. The wind blew, the hostile saddle birds dropped upon us — and, as ever, Seg was out for a wager or two, a side bet on the outcome in addition to our own lives.
“Three, I think,” I said with a judiciousness that brought a delighted curl to Seg’s lips.
Up aloft the birds w
