Besides, Zenaor owed him a debt ... a debt that only blood could cancel.
Blood. The blood of the starship's crew, and of the Baemae. Of Tumek, and a grey-thatched serving-serf without a name.
And on the roof here, Tumek had said, a disc lay ready.
A disc, and a debt of blood, and the Tower of Zenaor.
And Narla.
Why was he hesitating?
Cold-eyed, tight-lipped. Craig Nesom groped towards the stair....
CHAPTER IV
The disc came down to the roof like a drifting feather. Stepping from it, Craig paused for a moment, staring out with brow furrowed at the spangled night of Torneulan. City of barons or city of Baemae, there was beauty here in this silent moment.