The Wastrel wiped the blood from his forehead. Gerald lifted an eyebrow. ‘Yes, dear Nan, a flirtation. Just so had his subordinates shown their apprehension. But I have remembered the horse and have asked this sergeant that a soldier fetch him. A forgotten island beyond the ship lanes, where that grim Hand would falter and move blindly in its search for him! From what he had read, there wouldn't be much to do; and in the idle hours he could write.
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