"Names are powerful," Thran Zilfenridge said with all solemnity. "It's not wise to let someone like that know your name."
"But how do you know who can know and who cannot?" asked Belrow. "After all, you know my name. Does that mean you could use my name against me?"
"Yes," Thran replied seriously. "Names imply familiarity. They imply trust. Do you think I'm going to hurt you, Belrow Quillstock?"
The question hung in the air between them.
"No." Belrow said suddenly, shaking his head perhaps a bit too vigorously. "I'm sure you'd never betray the oath you made to Ivlet to protect me."
That unsettling smile pulled at the corner of Thran's mouth. The elf, tall even be elvish standards, stood and checked his sword at his side, but did not reply.
"Well," said Belrow. "Should we get going?"
"Lead the way," Thran replied, gesturing with a sweep of his arm and a slight bow.
Belrow couldn't quite say what is was that tickled his suspicions about Thran Zilfenridge. Thran didn't inspire the chill and the horror that the Cor-Morin had brought, but something about him made Belrow feel like he needed to be continually on his guard. Still, Ivlet trusted him, and if Belrow couldn't trust in Ivlet, well, who could he trust?
I realllllllllll liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike.
No comments:
Post a Comment