Into the thinking kingdoms - Alan Dean Foster [161]
“Then I will do my best to avoid that, and make an end to this business as quickly as events allow.”
The cat nodded impressively, the freshening breeze from off the bow ruffling the magnificent black mane. “We seek the same thing.”
“Hoy, not me,” Simna protested quickly. “It’s the treasure I’m after!” He eyed the herdsman sharply. “Whether it consists of legendary Damura-sese itself or nothing more than ‘beach pebbles.’ So don’t try to deny it, bruther!”
Ehomba sighed resignedly. “Has it ever done me any good to do so?”
“No,” the swordsman replied emphatically.
“Very well. The Visioness Themaryl. Treasure. No denials.”
Satisfied, Simna went silent. Its freedom once again postponed, the black litah chose a sun-soaked section of deck, curled up into itself, and went back to sleep. Astern, Hunkapa Aub was watching a handful of sailors at dice while struggling to comprehend the intricacies of the game.
Waiting for the sea, Ehomba watched the river and thought of Mirhanja, and his children, and the way the same ocean they were about to enter lapped at the beach below the village. Soon it would be calving season at home, and he knew he would be missed.
Did ever any among the living drive a man so hard and so far as one dead? he found himself wondering.