‘We haven’t the skills of Yrain and the others,’ Jaldaric said awkwardly.
Hawklan nodded. ‘I know,’ he replied. ‘But you’re more than good enough to hold your own and you bring old Fyordyn skills with you, as does Dacu.’
There was a brief silence. Gavor’s head appeared from behind a bowl of fruit. ‘What about me, dear boy?’ he asked.
‘You’re coming to guard my back and to watch our way,’ Hawklan said, turning to look at him.
Green eyes and black met; old friends.
‘Ah,’ Gavor said, after a moment. ‘And as a conscript I see.’
‘Yes.’
Gavor gave a soft ‘Hrmph,’ of injured resignation and disappeared behind the fruit bowl again.
The brief exchange eased some of the confused tension that had filled the room.
‘This venture was kept from the people for fear of its inadvertently coming to
