Voran approached the camp with both hands upraised. The first man to see him—a filthy-looking soldier with matted hair and livid sores at the corners of his mouth—exclaimed to the others in Karilan. Immediately, a party of five ruffians, blades unsheathed, approached from three different sides. At least two of them, Voran noted with interest, were blond, with light-colored eyes, wearing scale mail in the Nebesti manner.
Were these Dolgoruk’s men? No, they were too young, and all the Nebesti had gone with Yarpolk back to Nebesta after Rogned had been hanged. So these must be something new. Perhaps some stragglers from Parfyon’s ill-fated campaign.
Voran was surprised that Karilans and Nebesti were on speaking terms again. Then again, prey do not make for very discerning company.
“I am un
