He rose on one elbow and looked searchingly at her. "What?"
"Is there anything strange about that?"
"Only that he was so drunk he'd passed out and was snoring like a pig. The fat son of an izzot! He must have been faking! And he must have...."
"Must have what?"
Green shrugged. "I don't know."
He couldn't tell her that Miran must have followed him up into the hills. And that if he had the fellow must have seen some very disturbing things.
He stood up and gazed intently at the dark forms stretched out here and there. Miran was sleeping upon a blanket behind the helm. Or was pretending to do so.
Should he kill him? If Miran turned him in to the authorities in Estorya....
He sat down again and fingered his dagger.
Amra must have guessed his thoughts, for she said, "Why do you want to kill him?"