“No matter,” the Holy One answered, controlling his face, “I shall bury you, when I have done with you.”
“You haven’t done with me yet,” Sard said. “And I owe you for Captain Cary.”
“Your owners owe me for the ship.”
“Perhaps I may pay that too.”
Sagrado walked to the throne in the apex of the room; he seated himself and appeared to consider. Sard knew that he had touched the beast to the quick by his remark about the burial. He followed it up with:
“Mr. Dorney read the service very well, I understand. You did not numb his brains, I gather.”
“He has few to numb,” Sagrado answered. “But I am thinking of what you said about payment, and of you paying me. You think yourself capable, do you, of standing in a contest with me?”
“I would do my best, the city scavenger being absent.”
Sagrado laughed, yet seemed still to be considering: he swayed a little to and fro.
“Yet it is absurd,” he said. “It would be no fair match.”