Chapter seventeen
A bravo-fighter of ZenicceNow life took a completely fresh turn for me, Dray Prescot.
If I had missed companionship before, finding that rare commodity at last on Kregen among the tents and wagons of the clansmen with Hap Loder and his like — for Maspero and those, as I thought godlike beings, of Aphrasöe created always in me a breath of awe — I found it once again with Prince Varden and his drinking companions in the House of Eward of the city of Zenicce. And, too, most strangely, I found a compelling sense of friendship, warm and human and very luxurious to me, in the wise companionship of old Great-Aunt Shusha. I owned she might one day recall what she knew of Aphrasöe; but I did not need that hope to make me respect and admire her, and I admit my fondness for her gr
