He’d have to invite his brother Edern, he thought, without delay. No more standing in isolation pretending he was strong enough to fend off any attack on his sovereignty.
What would he do for a huntsman? He didn’t think Rhys could do it, and he couldn’t imagine what would happen to him if he tried it and failed.
What about this unexpected apparition, Georgia’s grandson, pulling the hounds somewhat raggedly along in front? Too convenient, just dropping in like that. Was he planted there?
Should I believe the implied lineage? The man was in his early thirties. Standing on the ground, our eyes were level, so he’s about my height, but so much broader. That’s those Norman Talbots, I wouldn’t be surprised. He didn’t recall Georgia’s mother very well, she had died so young, but he had stayed t
