From a small bag he produced some charred fragments of cloth, which he handed to Kyrlos.
Kyrlos examined them closely. “Undoubtedly,” said he slowly and sadly. “That piece of embroidery I remember well on my daughter’s dress.”
I think the Shaman envoy thought he had carried the day.
“Therefore will I certainly ride into your country and see justice done upon the murderers, even as your master suggests.
“But first there is a small matter I would speak of. There came to me a certain man, who said that the old chief and my daughter were seen near your master’s fortress—nay, even that they were seen at the Gate of Death. The man went further, and said that he saw the old chief slain there, even as those guilty of great crimes and sentenced by the whole council are put to death.”
“He lied,” said the envoy. “Have we not proven to you how the real facts are?”
“But stay; he went even further, and said that my daughter was seen there, bound also in shameful fashion.”
“He lies again, doubtless desiring to stir up strife between you and my master. No man has ever been in sight of the gate save those who die and those of my master’s guards who slay.”
“So I thought, but he said that, after the old chief had been killed, a certain strange man rushed in and carried away my daughter, and while so doing slew some of your folk in strange fashion with a noise.”
I saw the envoy’s jaw drop, and I wondered if he had been at the loopholes when Payindah was sniping them. He collected himself, and was about to reply, when Kyrlos stopped him and went on: