At most, there were half a dozen of
the staff that I'd once met, or had a drink with, eight or ten years
ago.
Rakhal could speak perfect Standard when he chose; if he lapsed into
Dry-town idiom, that too was in my known character. I had no doubt he
was making a great success of it all, probably doing much better with my
identity than I could ever have done with his.
Evarin rasped, "Cargill meant to leave the planet. What stopped him? You
could be of use to us, Rakhal. But not with this blood-feud unsettled."
That needed no elucidation. No Wolfan in his right mind will bargain
with a Dry-towner carrying an unresolved blood-feud. By law and custom,
declared blood-feud takes precedence over any other business, public or
private, and is sufficient excuse for broken promises, neglected duties,
theft, even murder.
"We want it settled once and for all." Evarin's voice was low and
unhurried. "And we aren't above weighting the scales. This Cargill can,
and has, posed as a Dry-towner, undetected.
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