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' 'The Pantathian is here.' Jarwa nodded, but he remained motionless. Powerful hands closed in frustration over the hilt of his battlesword, Tual-masok - Blood Drinker in the ancient tongue - far more a symbol of office than the crown he had worn only on rare state occasions.
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After they had moved down the street, Nakor said, ,That's odd. What is, He motioned over his shoulder.
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We will fall upon the Moat from three sides on the first day of the new century, as the ironmen are waking with hammers beating at their heads from the mead they'll quaff the night before.
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