abrades my cynical image, but—”
Gonji’s indulgent smile hardened him again. Embarrassed to have so bared his soul, Paille said: “Go to sleep, you look terrible.”
And with that he left Gonji alone.
The samurai checked on the cavern sentries and then stretched out on a pile of blankets to sleep. Found that it eluded him. The gently lapping waves of his drifting thoughts broke against shoals of guilt.
What was the last estimate of Klann’s strength? Six hundred. Plus Mord’s unknowable power, wavering or not....
Gonji pondered what he had told them all of the evacuation on the night after the full moon, and his sense of duty assailed him over his deceit. There would be hell to pay, he knew. But it must be done this way. The interest of surprise must be served, at whatever price in the chaos that might result. But the worst of it might be the dreadful consequences of Simon’s learning that he had been lied to.
On the full moon Mord would receive a fresh imputation of satanic power....
Hai, it had to be this way.
That was karma.
At the end of the Hour of the Dragon, just as sleep overcame him, he snapped awake with a strained cry and drew steel. Wilf stood over him, ashen and goggle-eyed.
“Soldiers just escorted my father to the castle,” the young smith said in an awed, fearful whisper. “Klann sent for him....”
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