Chapter fourteen
Kov Loriman mentions the Hunting SwordThe torches threw grotesque arabesques of light and shadow on the ripple-reflecting roof of the tunnel. The stream ran wide and deep at our side. We pressed on along the stone path and we took it in turns to lead, for we encountered many of the more ordinary water monsters of Kregen. Always, the two Pachaks and the numim clustered close to their lady. There were in her retinue other powerful fighting men, and between them and me we kept the way ahead clear.
“Water runs downhill,” said a Brukaj, his bulldog face savage as he drew back from slashing a lizard-form back into the water from which it had writhed, hissing. “So, at least we go in the right direction.”
“May your Bruk-en-im smile on us, and prove you right,” I said. “For, by
