"We are off to see Execution Jikaida this afternoon, Jak, Pompino.  You will join us?"

Lobur the Dagger spoke cheerfully, because Kov Thrangulf stood with the group smiling and nodding.  No one cared much for Kov Thrangulf; but he performed some mysterious function in Prince Nedfar's entourage.  Also he was a kov, which is by way of being a terrestrial duke, and so was a man of power of himself.

"I think not, Lobur; but thank you all the same."

Lobur had not recognized me as Drax, Gray Mask - well, by Zair! had he done so I would have been mortally chagrined.

We had taken to visiting the group around the prince and we sensed that they were glad of company, being isolated in this city where, although LionardDen was neutral in the wars Hamal was waging within the Dawn Lands, there were many who hated Hamal and all things Hamalian with blind hostility.  We spent time here, and joked and laughed around; but we had not had a single chance to get up on the roof and steal the voller.  The airboat was kept under heavy guard, and we had not, so far, been able to get away from our new-found friends.  Of course, the slightest suspicion that we were interested in the voller with the view to her purloining would bring disaster.  We had to take it easy, tsleetha-tsleethi, and await our opportunity.

As for Prince Nedfar, after the debacle of the alliance with Prince Mefto, he had remained here to indulge himself in Jikaida.  So he said.  I began to entertain uneasy suspicions that he had ulterior motives.  The treaty that was supposed to have released many powerful armies to fight against Vallia might still be concluded - with some pawn other than Prince Mefto.

This business of going to witness Execution Jikaida was a nuisance.  The so-called game was ordinary Jikaida, played to the rules, and with living men and women as pieces - just as they do in Kazz-Jikaida.  But these pieces were condemned criminals.  The moves were made and the piece being taken would be cut down, there and then, on the spot, and the game proceed.  This was not my idea of fun.

It was not Lobur's, either, as I could see, and the prince himself had made an excuse.  This fat, hard-breathing, smelly Kov Thrangulf was the one panting to go.  And Lobur, perforce, as a mere aide to the prince, had to acquiesce.

The oldest families of Hamal hold especial pride in their lineal descent from the ancients, and mark this by including the name ham in their own names.  Thus I was, as you know, in all honor Hamun ham Farthytu in Hamal.  Paline Valley and Nulty and those skirling times seemed long and long ago now; but such is the accumulation of tradition and the weight of incumbence, that I knew if I turned up at Paline Valley now I would be received as the rightful Amak.  Unless, of course, a usurper had managed to arrange the bokkertu and through legal means taken the title and the estates.  Then, the cramph, he'd have another fight on his hands.