There was a collective wrinkling of noses and shaking of heads, and some giggling mimicry of his voice.
‘He’s an old man,’ Antyr offered, wilfully calm and still courteous. ‘With a... dog... like this one.’ He pointed at Tarrian who looked at him balefully.
‘That’s a wolf, not a dog, mister,’ the boy replied contemptuously.
‘Delightful child,’ Tarrian muttered caustically to Antyr. ‘I’ll eat him last, I think.’
The reference to Tarrian, however, had provoked a response among the children and a huddled conference ensued with some gabbled arguments and denials, much pointing and one or two threats of violence.
‘You got any money, mister,’ the leader inquired after he had silenced the group.
‘Thanks, men,’ Estaan said suddenly to the children, briskly terminating the conference with a c
