Bladesinger - Keith Francis Strohm [55]
Carefully, he made his way to where the others had gathered, walking like a newborn foal on legs that shook with each step. Mahara inclined her head slightly when he arrived.
"It is not easy for us to accept what you have shared," the othlor began without any preamble. "We are a proud sisterhood, as you probably have gathered. That pride has strengthened us throughout generations of service to the people of Rashemen-but not without cost." She turned to look at Najra and the others before continuing.
"We have grown blind and deaf to our own mortality, to the possibility that one of our own might spin a web of darkness. Always we have looked to the durthan or the Thayans when shadows fell over Rashemen, never dreaming that it would be our shadow darkening the land's spirit. A hathran has broken the ancient oath that binds vremyonni and wychlaran. It is no wonder that the Old Ones have refused our counsel, making excuses for their absence with coldly polite words. This traitor has pierced the very heart of our land-and we suspected nothing. How long would we have remained in ignorance, were it not for your courage and generosity? All of us," Mahara said with particular emphasis, "our entire sisterhood, owe you a debt of gratitude."
Taen found himself surprisingly touched by the witch's admission. The Rashemi were, indeed, a proud people, used to fighting for every freedom and good thing that they enjoyed. To acknowledge their dependence on an outsider must be a bitter draught to swallow. The half-elf admired the courage and humility it took to admit that aloud. Looking around at the faces of his companions, Taen knew that Marissa and the others felt the same way.
He bowed low before Mahara and the other othlor. "We are honored by your words and by the hospitality you have shown us," he said without a hint of irony. "Let the start of our acquaintance be forgotten, and let us always remember this moment, when Rashemen's need and the wisdom of her leaders made strong the bonds of friendship between people of good will."
The words surprised him as they tumbled out. They must have surprised Marissa and Roberc, too, for both of them threw him a wide-eyed glance. Perhaps, he thought with only a touch of bitterness, he truly was his father's son-in spirit if not in blood.
"Your words are bright gems in the darkness we face," Mahara replied. "They are a gift whose worth may be beyond measure, and we accept them as such."
"Thank you," Taen responded, bowing once again before continuing, "and if the wychlaran or Rashemen ever have need of our assistance, you only need to ask and we will gladly give it."
The half-elf winced inwardly at that, wondering if, perhaps, he had stepped too far out beyond the boundary of what his companions would tolerate. He half expected Roberc to break in with a sarcastic denial, but the halfling merely looked at him with his usual sour expression. Behind the fighter, Borovazk stood beaming, his face split with a thick-toothed smile.
"Perhaps-" Mahara said then paused, looking around at the other witches, "perhaps there is something that you might do for us-a very large thing, actually." She cleared her throat before continuing, "Now that we know of the traitor's existence and the location of her lair, we must still decide on how we will deal with her. It's clear from the fact that you were attacked while on your way to warn us that our renegade hathran has quite a few spies amidst the people-and probably among the wychlaran, as well."
Taen could hear the fire burning within her voice.
"The only people we know that we can trust completely are standing in this clearing. It will take all of our power," she said, pointing to the five othlor, "to unearth the traitor's network of telltales while keeping our actions a secret. That leaves only you and your companions free to act against the betrayer of Rashemen. Our magic can transport you to an area within the walls of Citadel Rashemar. If we can keep our knowledge of