Chapter nineI, Dray Prescot, Vovedeer, Lord of Strombor and Krozair of Zy, glared at the gathering of warriors here in a small room in the Pronto and Risslaca in Prebaya. They looked a ragamuffin collection of scoundrels and cutthroats wearing dingy ragged clothing. Underneath they wore armor. They looked nothing like the smart guard I had created for the lady Quensella.
Nothing like, by Krun!
Erwin the Waggler had contacted most of the old juruk. The familiar faces, dirt-streaked, stared back at me, ready to go. Their weapons were sharp and to hand under their rags.
“You all know exactly what we’re after.” My voice sounded harsh and intolerant, even in my ears. “I emphasize again the enormous importance of what we are going to do. I know you will not fail.” Then I added a few words ver
