Frostfell_ The Wizards - Mark Sehestedt [103]
Regret and worry tugged at her heart, and she cursed herself for agreeing to the belkagen's plan. Not the taking of the fight to the enemy. In that, she was steadfast. But after the hag's departure, their council had resumed, and after much debate, the old elf had put forth his plan.
"The Vil Adanrath should attack Iket Sotha in force. Be seen. Draw our enemies to you." He hesitated-in hindsight Amira knew why-then looked to her. "You should lead them, Lady Amira."
She opened her mouth to respond, but Leren beat her to it.
"Her? The people speak of the prowess she showed in battle, but outlanders do not lead the Vil Adanrath."
"Lady Amira led the forces of her people against the Horde," said the belkagen. "None doubt her courage or prowess. But many days ago she was taken captive by an oathless slaver. A man little more than a common bandit bound her and made her his slave."
Amira considered pointing out that she'd been taken by surprise and that Walloch had been much more than a "common bandit." A slaver he might have been, but he'd studied the lore of Raumathar for years and had turned out to be quite a formidable wizard in his own right. All this was true, and although it stung her pride, she kept her mouth shut. In this, she agreed with Leren. Let the Vil Adanrath fight their own way. Her place was with Jalan.
"But," the belkagen continued, "that was before she sought Hro'nyewachu. Lady Amira is chosen."
"She does not bear the… the uwethla," said one of the Vil Adanrath women. "I am sorry, Lady Amira, I do not know your words for this."
The woman stood, pulled back her cloak, and much to Amira's shock lifted her buckskin shirt to display her torso and breasts. Like Haerul, her skin was a mass of black, blue, and green inks, but over them were red runes that seemed to drink in the light of the fire.
She sat back down. "Lady Amira is not omah. Are you saying she is belkagen?"
Her cheeks burning, Amira glanced down at her son. If the sight of a comely woman lifting her shirt before him disturbed him at all, he didn't show it. He simply stared into the fire, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings.
The belkagen nodded as if considering the woman's words, then said, "I hear you, Turha. No, Lady Amira is not omah, nor is she belkagen. In truth…" He paused letting his words hang. "In truth, I do not know what she is. Not in all my years, nor the times of my greatest grandfathers, has an outlander sought Hro'nyewachu and lived. Yet here she is. The omah nin himself bore witness to her journey. Would any here doubt the word of the omah nin?"
There were several gathered who had arrived lately and had not been there at the Mother's Bed. They looked to their high chief. He did not return their gaze but fixed his stare on the belkagen.
"The belkagen speaks the truth," said the omah nin. "Lady Amira entered the cave in darkness and emerged at dawn."
"But do we know she saw Hro'nyewachu?" asked another omah.
The omah nin gave him a hard look but said nothing.
"You doubt the word of the omah nin?" said Leren. "Of the belkagen?"
The elf looked at Amira and shook his head. "I do not. But as you have said, this is most strange. Never in all our days have we heard such a thing. It is a hard bite to swallow."
Another opened his mouth to speak, but the belkagen cleared his throat. The younger elf shut his mouth, and all eyes turned to the belkagen.
"I hear you," he said. "Turha spoke truly. Lady Amira does not bear the uwethla. Such was not the gift of Hro'nyewachu. But do not think that Amira left giftless." He turned to Amira. "Lady, stand and present the staff."
All eyes turned to Amira. Her heart hammering in her chest, she reluctantly peeled Jalan off her side and stood. The staff was longer than she was tall, but she had kept most of it huddled inside the cloak with her. She thrust off the side of her cloak, a blast of cold hit her, and she raised the staff before her. The light from the