By Jo Clayton
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Additional info for A Gathering of Stones (Drinker of Souls Book 3)
The boy could prove amusing enough to earn the coppers he cost. ” Davindo slapped at his skinny chest. “Only the favorite. There was weeping and wailing and tearing of hair when the slavers stole me from my father’s house. When I was born, the Wamanachi proph esied over me, the Great Wamanachi said of me, I shall be Puissant and Terrible to the Enemies of the Land, inside and out. I shall be Sung down the Ages, Father to many sons, Warchief to my people, Paramount among Paramounts. ” “Most interesting.
I was stole,” he muttered. “As you say. I am going to give you your papers. No. Be quiet. I don’t intend to discuss my reasons with you. If you wish to go home, I will pay your passage and put you on a ship with a master I trust to make sure you get there. If you prefer to stay in Kukurul, I will arrange schooling for you or an apprenticeship. ” Davindo’s eyes shifted from the door to the window. His pale pink tongue flicked over his lips. ” “I know what you think you want, but I’m not going to cut you loose; I’ve got enough guilt spotting my souls, I don’t need more.
Urn . . remarkably untouched by Tal ent, always excepting that imposed by the Chained God on his priests; however, that has nothing to do with you since the priests are always male and as far as I can determine chosen by the God himself without much concern about any inborn Gifts. ” She tapped her nails on the desk top, a tiny clatter like a flurry of wheatsized hail against a window. “An obscenity. . ” She spread her hands flat on the desk, frowned at them.. “Which is a digression . . I’m explaining too much.
A Gathering of Stones (Drinker of Souls Book 3) by Jo Clayton