was none continued, ‘You seem unduly suspicious, S’danzo. Do you have many
enemies here. Little Sister?’
He stepped into the room and let the cloth fall behind him. Illyra’s dagger slid
silently from her hand into the folds of her skirts.
‘Walegrin.’
‘You remember so quickly? Then you did inherit her gift?’
‘Yes, I inherited it, but this morning I learned that you had
returned to Sanctuary.’
‘Three weeks past. It has not changed at all except, perhaps, for the worse. I
had hoped to complete my business without disturbing you but I have encountered
complications, and I doubt any of the other S’danzo would help me.’
‘The S’danzo will never forget.’
Walegrin eased his bulk into one of Dubro’s chairs. Light from the candelabra
fell on his face. He endured the exposure, though as Dubro had guessed, there
was no trace of youth left in his features. He was tall and pale, lean in the
way of powerful men whose gentler tissues have boiled away. His hair was sun
bleached to brittle straw, confined by four thick braids and a bronze circlet.
Even for Sanctuary he cut an exotic, barbarian figure.
‘Are you satisfied?’ he asked when her gaze returned to the velvet in front of
her.
‘You have become very much like him,’ she answered slowly. ‘I think not, ‘Lyra.
My tastes, anyway, do not run as our father’s did – so put aside your fears on
that account. I’ve come for your help. True S’danzo help, as your mother could
have given me. I could pay you in gold, but I have other items which might tempt
you more.’ He reached under his bronze-studded leather kilt to produce a suede