He gritted his teeth and ignored it; it was like ignoring a burning coal inside his head, but at least he could hold it at bay. His lips peeled back in a snarl, and he took a step, to join them, run with them in the hunt, in the killing. He looked like a handsome man of middle years. And he did not dare ask any of them.
He pulled the heavy purse from his pocket and folded her hands around it. Agelmar is sending men to hunt those who took the Horn and slew his oathmen, the same who took the dagger. Enough to fall in blindly with whatever Valda proposed. There did not seem to be a mark on either of them.
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