The High Froman glared at his men in exasperation and started to curse them all for cowards, but on second thought, he considered that it was probably just as well his men remained behind. It would look better if he treated with the gods alone. He cast a sidelong glance at the Head Clark.
“I think you should stay here,” said Darral. “It might be dangerous.”
Since Darral Longshoreman had never in his entire life been concerned about his welfare, the Head Clark was very rightly suspicious at this sudden consideration and promptly and unequivocally refused. “It’s only proper that a churchman greet these immortal beings,” said the Head Clark loftily. “I suggest, in fact, that you allow me to do the talking.”
The storm had cleared, but there was another coming (on Drevlin there was always another coming!), and Darral didn’t have time to argue. Contenting himself with muttering that the Head Clark could talk all he wanted through a split lip, the High Froman and his cohort turned and marched-with a remarkable courage that would later be celebrated in story and song-right up to the battered hull of the downed ship. (The courage exhibited by the two Gegs should not, after all, be considered that remarkable, the copper having reported that the Creature he had seen emerge from the ship was small and puny-looking.