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Buruk’s gaze remained fixed on the flames ‘It was the sword that raised him,’ he said in a low voice ‘Or whoever limpse of the blade? It’s hters they worship, the dappled one, as her name?’

‘Sukul Ankhadu’

‘Maybe she exists in truth An Edur goddess-’

‘A dubious gift, then, for the Edur view Sukul Ankhadu as a fickle creature She is feared They worship Father Shadow and Daughter Dusk, Sheltatha Lore And, on a day to day basis, more of the latter than the former’ Seren finished the tea then refilled the tin cup ‘Sukul Ankhadu I suppose that is possible, although I can’t recall any stories about those gods and goddesses of the Edur everthemselves in such a direct manner It seemed more like ancestor worship, the founders of the tribes elevated into holy figures, that sort of thing’ She sipped and griut, Acquitor’

‘Too late for that, Buruk’

‘Well, if not Ankhadu, then who? That sword came from somewhere’

‘I don’t know’

‘Nor does it sound as if you even care This listlessness ill suits you Acquitor’

‘It’s not listlessness, Buruk, it’s wisdom I’m surprised you can’t tell the difference’

‘Is it wisdo the life frohts? Is it wisdohtmare miracle itnessed yesterday?’

‘Absolutely What else could it be?’