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His was a voice one could listen to, hours passing without notice, disco was, Seren realized, a very dangerous king

Buruk the Pale took the central seat, Seren ht As they settled into the Blackwood chairs, the Warlock King sat down once oblet ‘Wine frouests’

‘Acquired through peaceful trade, one hopes,’ Buruk said

‘Alas, I a up almost diffidently into the merchant’s eyes, then away once more ‘But we are all hardy folk here at this table, I’oblet and sipped He seehtly soured by provenance, sire’

The Warlock King frowned ‘I had assumed it was supposed to taste that way’

‘Not surprising, sire, once one becomes used to it’

‘The comfort that is faain’

‘The Letherii often grow restless with familiarity, alas, and as a consequence often see it as a diminishment in quality’

‘That is too co said ‘We’ve not yet drunk enough to dance ords, unless of course you eased your thirst back in your lodging, in which case I find e’

Buruk reached for a sliver of se exists, then it belongs to us’

‘How so?’

‘Well, sire, you honour us with blood-tainted wine, a esture More, we have received word of the slaughter of Letherii seal hunters The blood has grown deep enough to drown us’

It seees A curious tactic, Seren reflected, and one that, she suspected, King Ezgara Diskanar would not appreciate in the circu kin of the butchered tusked seals would concur, tugged as they are in that fell tide,’ the Warlock King said in asort of way

‘Word has also reached us,’ Buruk continued, ‘of the ships’ return to Trate’s harbour The holds that should have held the costly harvest were inexplicably empty’

‘Empty? That was careless’