“No, Walegrin,” she protested softly, resisting the burden but not backing away from it. “You can’t ask this of me.”
“I’m the only one stupid enough to ask it of you, Illyra. You need a child,
Illyra. You need to watch someone laugh and grow. Gods know it should have been your own children and not this one….” He turned to Dubro. “Tell her. Tell her this mourning’s killing her. Tell her it’s not good for any of us when she doesn’t care about anything.”
So it was that Dubro, after a long moment’s hesitation, put his arms under
Illyra’s to support the child. The girl child did not immediately stop struggling within her swaddling nor did the oppressive weather vanish, but, after she sighed, Illyra did smile at the infant and it opened its blue-gray eyes and smiled back at her.
SPELLMASTER
Andrew Offutt and Jodie Offutt
Wear weapons openly and try to look mean. People see the weapons and believe the look and you don’t have to use them.
-CUDGET SWEAROATH
One thing led to another and swords came scraping out of their sheaths. Fulcris knew he was in trouble. The two men facing him with sharp steel in their fists had left the caravan yesterday afternoon when it halted here, just outside
Sanctuary. They had gone on down into the town for a little of the partying he had denied them en route from Aurvesh. Now, just after midday, they’d come the short distance back out here to the encampment. Looking for trouble.
Fulcris wasn’t the sort to pretend not to see them and be somewhere else, however wise that would have been. They had obviously been drinking their lunch.