“Good,” I said.
Nath, the thief, cleared his throat and spat dust.
“Good for them, bad for us. Now the Rapas, for sure, will strike twice as hard.”
Loku would have struck Nath for the disrespect he showed a Vovedeer; but I restrained him. I had need of Nath.
“Find out whose turn it is to feed the vosks,” I told Loku, “and arrange for one of us to do that unsavory task.”
The vosks were almost completely devoid of intelligence, great fat pig-like animals standing some six feet at the shoulders, with six legs, a smooth oily skin of a whitish-yellow color, and atrophied tusks; their uses were to turn waterwheels, to draw burdens, to operate the lifting cages, and also to furnish remarkably good juicy steaks and crisp rashers. We, as slaves, saw them only as work animals. We ate the same s
