Sidlis nodded.
'There is more, sir?' Karnadas asked.
'Sir. Accompanying me are emissaries from these potential allies. The Shield Anvil judged that such negotiation as may follow be solely between the Grey Swords and our guests; and that any decision of revelation, to the prince or to the Mask Council, should only follow considered counsel among yourselves, sirs.'
Brukhalian grunted his agreement. 'The emissaries await in the compound?'
The answer to his question rose in swirls of dust to the outrider's left. Three desiccated, fur-clad figures shimmered into being, rising up from the stone floor. Rotted furs and leathers, skin polished deep brown, massive shoulders and long, muscle-twisted arms.
The Destriant staggered back out of his chair, eyes wide.
Brukhalian had not moved. His eyes narrowed on the three apparitions.
The air suddenly smelled of thawed mud.
'They call themselves the Kron T'lan Imass,' Sidlis said calmly. 'The Shield Anvil judged their warriors to number perhaps fourteen thousand.'
'T'lan Imass,' Karnadas whispered. 'This is a most disturbing … convergence.'
'If I may make introductions,' Sidlis continued, 'these are Bonecasters — shamans. The one to the far left, upon whose shoulders is the fur of a snow bear, is Bek Okhan. Next to him, in the white wolf fur, is Bendal Home. The Bonecaster at my side, in the skin of a plains bear, is Okral Lorn. I specify the nature of the furs as it relates directly to their … Soletaken forms. Or so they have informed me.'
The one named Bendal Home stepped forward. 'I bring greeting from Kron of Kron T'lan Imass, mortal,' he said in a soft, smooth whisper. 'Further, I have recent news from the clans escorting your Shield Anvil and his soldiers. Additional K'Chain Che'Malle K'ell Hunters were found, engaged in an attack on a cavaran. These hunters have been despatched. Your soldiers have administered to the wounds of the caravan survivors. All are now returning to Capustan. No further engagements are anticipated, and their arrival will coincide with the dawn.'
Trembling, Karnadas once more sat down in his chair. He struggled to speak past a suddenly parched throat. 'K'Chain Che'Malle? Animated?'
'Thank you, Sidlis,' Brukhalian said. 'You may now depart.' He faced Bendal Home. 'Do I understand correctly that Kron seeks an alliance against the Pannion Domin, and these … K'Chain Che'Malle?'
The Bonecaster cocked his head, his long, pale hair dangling loose from beneath the wolf-skull helmet. 'Such a battle is not our primary task. We have come to this land in answer to a summons. The presence of K'Chain Che'Malle was unexpected — and unacceptable. Further, we are curious as to the identity of the one named Pannion — we suspect he is not the mortal human you believe him to be. Kron has judged that our involvement in your conflict is required for the present. There is a caveat, however. The one who has summoned us approaches. With her arrival, the Second Gathering of the T'lan Imass will commence. At this time, our disposition will be for her to decide. Furthermore, it may well be that we become … of less value to you … upon completion of the Gathering.'
Brukhalian slowly turned to Karnadas. 'Sir? You have questions for the one named Bendal Home?'
'So many that I do not know where to begin, Mortal Sword. Bonecaster, what is this "Gathering" that you speak of?'
'That is a matter for the T'lan Imass, mortal.'
'I see. Well, that shuts the door on one line of inquiry, and its attendant multitude of questions. Regards the Pannion Seer — he is indeed a mortal human. I have seen him myself, and there is no scent of illusion to his flesh and bone. He is an old man, and nothing more.'
'And who stands in his shadow?' the Bonecaster named Bek Okhan rasped.
The Destriant blinked. 'No-one, as far as I can tell.'
The three T'lan Imass said nothing, yet Karnadas suspected a silent exchange among them, and perhaps with their distant kin as well.
'Mortal Sword,' the priest said in a low voice, 'do we inform the prince of this? What of the Mask Council?'
'Further counsel is indeed required before that decision can be made, sir,' Brukhalian replied. 'At the very least, we shall await the return of the Shield Anvil. Furthermore, there is the issue of additional communications this night, is there not?'
Fener's blessing, I'd forgotten. 'Indeed there is.' Quick Ben. by the cloven hoof, we have allies stepping out of every closet.
Bendal Home spoke. 'Mortal Sword Brukhalian, your soldier Itkovian has decided that their public arrival into the city — with the company of the caravan's wounded — will include six of the T'lan Ay that now accompany our kin.'