Dark, dried blood made fans down his cheeks. We really have to do it, don't we. And he was alone. Fain clutched his hands in fists at his sides so he would not grab the dagger.
Domon's reply was as steady as a rock; no trader lasted long who could not lie with a straight face and an easy voice. There was nothing along the Ways against which a sword would be any use, but it was something to convince themselves they were ready. A number of Ogier women were watching him, from white-haired grandmothers to daughters Erith's age, a knot of them talking among themselves but with all eyes on him. I knew that you could.
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