heir feats. Some had fresh fingerbones to show him, from the Harjhans who had not knelt quickly enough.
The sight of them saddened him, but he did not show his warriors how he felt. He did not show Dimmi, who praised them and laughed.
What is wrong with me, gods? They were sinners, they died. It was your desire, why do I hurt? I have killed so many thousands, why care for twelve?
The gods did not answer. He would demand another tasking, he must scream out his sin. It was his wickedness that kept the gods from speaking, sorrow for the smitten was a terrible crime.
If I scream loud and long enough, I know the gods will hear. It will hear, it will answer, I will not be alone.
... FORTY-THREE
Tell me again, Zandakar,” said Lilit, smiling, “how you saved your brother crossing the Sand Riv
