“But you—are you so sure that you can manage that Konder? Are you sure he will do as you say?”
Gudric laughed aloud.
“Most certainly, when at each shoulder waits a knife set to carve out his lights if he strays but one word from his brief.”
Meyren looked sharp. “Each shoulder? Who’ll be at the other?”
“A merciless B’hadgazane. Come, let’s get that sleep. We have but four spaces left.”