“Not always,” said Tyr curtly. “Hello, though,” he said to the dog. It stretched its head out to sniff Tyr’s hand and was jerked back.
“Sullen boy,” mumbled Gizhurthra. “Headman’s son, and sullen.” He looked uneasily about, then suddenly turned to Azhur. “Have you any influence with him? Does he listen to priests?”
“I’m not really a priest,” said Azhur shakily. “And I only met Tyr today.” He had not recovered from the encounter with the southerner.
“Oh, not the boy!” said Gizhurthra derisively. “I mean him, the healer. Talk some sense into him. He’s keeping me away from a sick man. What’s the use of having power if...?” The man rubbed his unshaven chin and drifted within himself for a moment. “He stood in my way ever since I came here, you know, but you can tell him...” He leaned forwar
