on them,’ she said abruptly.
‘There’s an execution in the square,’ Samlor said, glancing at his cuff. But it
was unmarked, and even his boot had been too dusty for overt sign where the
severed fingertip had touched it. ‘Oh,’ he said in embarrassment. ‘Oh.’ He
raised his eyes to the S’danzo’s. ‘Life can be hard, lady… and there are
matters of honour. Not my honour since I went into trade -‘ his lip quirked in a
wormwood grimace – ‘but of the family, of the House ofKodrix, yes. I’ve found
little enough that brings me pleasure. But not that, not slaughter. Life is
hard, that’s all.’
Illyra released his palm. The silver clung to her fingers in what was almost a
sleight of hand, professional in that, though the reading was no longer simply
professional or simple at all. ‘Tell me about the child,’ the S’danzo said.
‘Yes,’ the stocky man agreed slowly. Little enough of pleasure, and none at all
in some memories. ‘My sister Samlane was …’ he said, and he paused, ‘not a
slut, I suppose, because she didn’t bed just anybody, and the decision was
always hers. And not a whore, except as a lark, as little coin as there was to
be had in our House … She had a disdain for trade that did credit to the noble
House of Kodrix. Our parents were proud of her, I think, as they never were of
me after I found an honest way to buy their food – and replenish their wine
cellar.’ The grimace again, calling attention to a joke that bit the teller like
a shark.
The woman was quiet, as cool as the shells that whispered in the door curtain.