Lion Head Mesa lacrimosus

germanicus felt ice began to limn him the longer that pharaoh struck at the eagle and sought to place bait before his gaze. it was a test, the ugly game of courtier and royal. 

"i owe nothing to akashingo. i spoke for the others yet in these lands. they too will feel the crush of whatever struggle is had here."

he loathed the sound of pharaoh speaking about crowfeather. the egyptian's voice was an unwanted caress. 

the shame chipped inexorably at him. "if you wish another physician for her, i will bring one."

germanicus would not be moved or swayed by the velvet son of jackals.

"i have passed on the information of how the saints struck your land. her name. her face. and i have given the news of your wedding soon to come. i am no longer bound here."

but his mind was filled with thoughts of the shadow. had crowfeather truly suffered?