By Ann Maxwell
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Additional resources for A Dead God Dancing
Syza collapsed against him, shaking with helpless laughter at the picture his mind had sent. ” he asked when she was quiet again. “Too ... ” Lhar looked at her more closely. The competing moons made a mystery of her face, but could not conceal her cheeks, hollow and drawn. On a sudden impulse he checked the food skin which each rider carried. Syza’s was full. ” *Can’t ride ... ” Syza’s hand moved in a limp, ambivalent gesture. ” Lhar recognized Kaffi’s voice and answered without turning. “Syza was too tired to eat.
Even without Lhar’s warning, the bloody rope which snubbed the taman’s nose told its own story. “You must have gone long without sweet water,” said Kaffi. “Too long. We lost some drifs. We thought that all the animals flushed themselves clean at the river. ” Lhar measured the taman’s sullen stance. “We’ll wait as long as we can. ” Kaffi licked her lips delicately. Taman were too valuable to be used as meat animals except on rare occasions. Their flesh was a delicacy. ” “Then I’ll—” “No, no,” laughed Kaffi.
Tokor was First Herder of the First Khaner; he knew his work, enjoyed it, was very good at it. He also knew he was watching a master and the knowledge warmed him quietly. For the first time Tokor believed that the strangers had crossed n’Lith. With such a herder a khaner could cross even the Ramparts. Lhar wryly noted that while Tokor had resented the deference Kaffi had shown Lhar, Tokor himself had neither doubt nor resentment as he bowed to Syza’s superior skill. The lead drifs were hobbled now, and the taman were quietly nosing for food among the stones.