| OCR Text |
Show XVII "DragonGoose should not squabble with DragonGoose whilst JumbleDogs harry the flock." from Proverbs of the Seljuk Warriors Dressed in their new outfits, and looking for all the world like two hardy yeofolk ready for an early summer hunt in the Tartars, the red-eyed Dr'Anya and Janni packed their supplies and their bundled NewOxbridge clothes out to the aircar and relocked it, confused and faintly irritable but well aware that they must pull themselves together and go on with their mission. They walked over to the Brighton alehouse for a supper before they continued on to the FarthestPost. Inside the alehouse the air was smoky with yeofolk pipes and smelled of the sharp plains ale and spicy eastern Commendium food. Mother and daughter slipped into a booth with high-backed wooden plank seats and looked around. Then the young Janni leaned over the table and tapped her mother's arm. "The knight," she whispered. Dr'Anya turned and looked behind her. There was a large man sitting with a lank-haired squire at a far table. He was clad in a knee-length tunic of chained mail, his red-plumed helmet and a sheathed sword on the bench beside him. He was brooding over a tankard of ale, his dark hair falling over his forehead. "Well," said a hearty voice beside them, "and how now the good Dr'Anya?" Dr'Anya turned back. The voice was a bit too hearty. What was 146 |
