Chapter nineAnnoyed with myself, I stopped stock-still. By the rotting fangs and diseased earlobes of Makki Grodno! What was I about, being panicked like a young coy? Swiftly I returned to the front door and slamming it shut shot the bolts, top and bottom. There was no chain, whereat I scowled. Let ’em break in, bad cess to ’em!
With that, off I galloped after Fweygo and his burden.
My kregoinye comrade enveloped the Dokerty priest in the voluminous blue cloak. We paced swiftly among the jumbled houses along the twisting streets. Talk about a maze! All the same, it was all too easy to dwell on those poor damned dead folk back there, and the tortuous alleyways fitted our somber mood.
Fweygo told F’Farhan that if he intended going to another safe house he would prefer it to be somewhat sa
