They were cheerful on the trail,
handled the pack animals competently, during the day, and spent most of
the nights grouped around the fire, gambling silently on the fall of the
cut-crystal prisms they used for dice.
Three days out of the Kharsa I began to worry about Cuinn.
It was of course a spectacular piece of bad luck to find all three of
the men from the spaceport cafe in Kyral's caravan. Kyral had obviously
not known me, and even by daylight he paid no attention to me except to
give an occasional order. The second of the three was a gangling kid who
probably never gave me a second look, let alone a third.
But Cuinn was another matter. He was a man my own age, and his fierce
eyes had a shrewdness in them that I did not trust. More than once I
caught him watching me, and on the two or three occasions when he drew
me into conversation, I found his questions more direct than Dry-town
good manners allowed. I weighed the possibility that I might have to
kill him before we reached Shainsa.
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