I was an old mercenary, an old reiver. When men sought to slay me no matter who they were — by the Black Chunkrah! — I’d slay them first! And there was the green standard of my Lady of the Stars to consider. Was a man’s life, the life of a Brother Krozair of Zy, worth more or less than a scrap of green silk given into my care by a girl? How could such idiotic and callous thoughts even occur to me? Had this girl, this beloved of Gafard, this Lady of the Stars, addled my wits?There had to be a way — a way of honor.The arrows rained down about me now and I cursed the stupidity of the men of the inner sea, no less than of Vallia and Segesthes, that they despised the shield as the coward’s artifice. Turko the Shield should be with me now, his great shield upraised, deflecting the arrow storm.I flicked away two arrows that would have pierced me.An officer at my side, a Chulik mercenary and a man with long experience in artillery, in command of the bow varters, coughed gently to himself.
