Deuced odd!I felt like a man turning a corner and being blown back by a sea wind gusting past force ten. I struggled to get a breath. Nath the Retributor, all smiles, was saying, “He is here, majestrix, standing here. Now you have explained, of course, of course. These things happen in imperial families.”He was, I am sure, quite unaware of any sarcasm.“Here is Dray Prescot, Emperor of Vallia! Lahal, majister!”Jaezila looked at me.Dayra had looked at me, I recalled with anguish from our first meeting, with loathing and contempt. How would my eldest daughter regard the father who kept on disappearing?She was beautiful, yes, she was her mother’s daughter, regal, commanding, impish — and now a frown dinted in between her eyebrows, and her lips drew down, and her eyes regarded me with a look I just could not fathom.“Him?” she said. And, then: “Jak the Sturr — my father?” And, then: “He is a blade comrade, Jak, a friend, one who would give his life for me, as I for him, as we have proved.
