It took Simna a moment to find his voice. Swallowing hard but uncowed, he boldly took a step forward. “Not only from across the Semordria, but from far to the south as well.”
The armored specter ignored the swordsman. For Hymneth, Simna ibn Sind did not exist. Nor, except as transitory curiosities, did Hunkapa Aub or the black litah. He had words only for the tall, slim, spear-wielding figure clad in simple shirt and kilt who met his gaze without flinching.
“I must say that you don’t look the part.” After holding the stare for another long, thoughtful moment, the Possessed sighed and sat back on his throne, dropping his arms to the sculpted dragon-headed rests. “After all this waiting, it’s something of a disappointment. However, when it comes to reading tomorrows, even the Worm is not omnipotent.”
“By Gosthenhark, we’re due some respect here for what we’ve done!” Insults Simna could deal with, but he could not and would not be ignored. “This is my friend the Naumkib Etjole Ehomba, who comes from a land so far to the east and south you cannot conceive of the distance.”
“Can’t I?” Already, Hymneth was sounding bored.
“He is a wizard of inestimable wisdom and power, controlling forces you cannot hope to defeat.” Straightening proudly, the swordsman touched a thumb to his chest. “I am Simna ibn Sind, virtuoso of blades and sixth-degree adept in the warrior arts of my homeland. We have not come all this way, defeating dangers and overcoming obstacles beyond your imagining, to be treated with contempt. We mean to have from you the Visioness Themaryl of Laconda, unwillingly abducted from her family and home, and return her to her people.” He took a step back and then added hastily, “And whatever treasure of yours we can carry off with us as well.”