Frostfell_ The Wizards - Mark Sehestedt [53]
"I'm sorry, Belkagen. I meant no offense."
He gave her a reassuring smile. "Nor did I take any. One master to another, among ourselves, it is good to speak of such things, to share our wisdom. But very soon we are to be joined by a great many folk who have powers and abilities far older than anything known by the people of Cormyr, and they can be very… 'prickly' about their customs of politeness. I urge you, Lady, please, guard your tongue among the Vil Adanrath. You will find no truer or more honorable people in all this world. They are the fiercest friends one can have, but they make terrible enemies and are easily offended. They are a people of pride and honor, and their chief, Haerul, has pride and honor like none I've ever seen. Scratch it at your peril."
Amira thought on this a while. She'd grown up among the aristocracy, and no one played the game of politics and court like the war wizards, but the belkagen's words gave her pause.
"I will treat this Haerul as I would the nobles of my own land," she said.
"You were sent to the High Horn for the way you treated your nobles, were you not?"
Amira blushed. "Not exactly, no."
"I meant no offense, Lady Amira," he said. "But please. Take my words to heart. You saw a bit of Lendri's ire when his hackles were up-and Lendri has traveled among humans for many years. It has softened him toward your kind. Not so with the Vil Adanrath. With Haerul, tread as a fawn among wolves."
"I'm no fawn, Belkagen. I have bite, too."
"I do not attack your pride. You need not bow and scrape and beg. Just… use caution. Please."
Amira looked back over her shoulder, searching for a change in subject. "Are you sure that your being here is wise, Belkagen?"
The belkagen smiled. "Gyaidun has a cave bear's temper, but I can take care of myself."
They sat in silence a while, the belkagen tending the fire.
"May I ask you something?" Amira said.
The belkagen smiled. "Please."
"What… what are you, exactly?"
"I do not understand your question."
"You speak of the Vil Adanrath as if you are one of them, but Gyaidun told me that he and Lendri are exiles. Outcasts. And I could tell that there was a great deal of tension in Lendri seeking their aid."
" 'A great deal of tension.' " The belkagen put his hands on his knees, leaned back and laughed-quietly but with much enthusiasm. Finally, he settled down and looked at Amira. "Lendri took his life in his hands. Exiles they are. Hrayeket, the Vil Adanrath say. Cut off from the pack. The Vil Adanrath would have been within their rights to cut Lendri's throat and scatter his body to the eight winds. He risked a great deal in returning to them. Your presence has lit quite a fire in the grasslands."
Amira did her best to keep her voice mild. "I thank you for all your help, Belkagen. You and Lendri and Gyaidun. I am grateful. But… I cannot help but notice the true object of this hunt. Gyaidun and Lendri will help Jalan if they can, I don't doubt. But they're after blood."
"Yes. This bothers you?"
"I want my son back," she said, and the bitterness crept into her tone. "The rest… I'll help if I can. But in the end, Jalan is all I care about."
"So you use us and we use you," said the belkagen. She sensed no recrimination in his voice, nor did she see it in his face when she looked up. "Is this not so?"
Amira shrugged.
"You must not despise Gyaidun too much, Amira," said the belkagen. "He has suffered much. Lost much. He too seeks his lost child. You and he are more alike than you dare admit. Do not resent him for doing the same thing you are doing."
Amira swallowed. "You haven't answered my question."
"Question?"
"You seem as if you are Vil Adanrath, who have exiled Gyaidun and Lendri. Yet you were camping with them at the Lake of Mists. Despite your quarrel, you seem a friend to them."
The belkagen smiled, and Amira