Chapter six
Concerns a Star of DeathThe Hunting Kov acted on his own words without a heartbeat’s hesitation.
His bulk shouldered the women aside. One tumbled to her knees, hair falling forward, her cry lost in the general hubbub. Loriman charged back, returning the way we had traversed.
The women cowered out of his way, distressed, not understanding as he barged past like a runaway chunkrah.
At the last he turned to look back.
His face, always hard and arrogant, held now a flushed look of triumph. There was in that fanatical expression an expressive wealth of dedication. Slave to his ideals of hunting, Kov Loriman had now been consumed utterly by them.
He visualized in Csitra the Witch the ultimate quarry.
The dust of the corridors, the rank smell of the women, the feeling of pressu
