Chapter twenty
The Savanti and the Star Lords ordain fateSaffi tugged my arm. I felt the wound in my shoulder. But I could not move. I think my mouth hung open in a foolish loose-lipped i***t’s grin. The voice of Phu-si-Yantong wafted through the bronze grille, there in the fortress of Smerdislad lost in the jungles of Faol.
“We must bring every artifice to bear on this Dray Prescot.”
The voice of Strom Rosil, the Kataki Chuktar: “Why not have him killed, and end it? A stikitche—”
“Like your man sent to slay the fool Quarnach, Rosil?” said the voice of Vad Garnath, sharp with goading malice.
Phu-si-Yantong quelled them. “He must not be slain. Through him we can rule all Vallia — aye, and the Vallian empire!”
Strom Rosil would not easily be quelled, although he spoke in a lowered, mal
