Chapter 128

The Rhoyne was vast, especially near its mouth where she met her “wild daughters.” From the deck of a ship in midstream, a man could not even glimpse the far shores.

The Volantenes never tired of praising their Mother River, declaring no stream on earth could rival her, that only the sea might stand her equal.

Boast though it sounded, even Drogo—ever proud—could not gainsay them. It was true.