"So you will," Drezzar grinned, and ripped off Elak's purse. He opened
it and ran golden coins through his thick fingers. "You'll work for it,
too. But you'll not reach Cyrena."
"Two more oarsmen for you, Rasul. Two more slaves.
"See that they work!"
He turned and strode away. Unresisting, Elak was dragged to a vacant oar
and chained there, Lycon shackled beside him. His hands fell in
well-worn grooves on the polished wood.