The Living Sword 3: The Burden of Legacy by Pemry Janes

of the great city of Linese that they uttered disbelief. The food they offered was simple fare, a pottage of peas, onions, and barley, enlivened by bits of chicken and thyme. They scooped it up with dark crusted bread while Misthell entertained everybody by regaling them with one story after another. Thankfully, not her story. She nodded to Eurik across the room; he must have had a word with the living sword. From among his place with the men, he gave her a shrug. Still, this meal would end, and, judging from the looks she was getting from the women around the table, the story of Silver Fang and the demon would be told. I should have gone straight home. *** White clouds hung scattered across the sky, but neither they nor the wind offered any relief from the burning sun. Eurik felt a drop of sweat roll down his cheek and along his neck. He could try to generate some wind chiri himself, but the relief that breeze could bring wouldn’t offset the effort he’d need to expend to do it in the first place. The air was heavy with the scent of cut grain stalks. Yesterday, sheaves still stood in some of the fields they’d passed, but today all he saw were birds picking over the remains. A couple of bowshots away, a group scattered. He didn’t see the snake, but he felt plenty of them slinking around. To their left, Lake Bandar stretched out over the horizon. A few boats bobbed up and down on its waves, the people on them pulling in nets while more birds wheeled above. Other boats with bill