Kre looked up at Beleg, wondering how he could ask about what was happening without breaking their little master and servant act. He had an immediate flash of his first meetimg with Kitalia given how blunt and straight forward this Ylveryan woman was acting, and he briefly wondered if the two were related. As the low hum of the vigil bowl echoed through the room, he gave the woman a thorough look but couldn’t see any resemblance.
Much to Kre’s embarrassment, she returned the long gaze, which only further reminded him of Kitalia. At this point, he wasn’t sure what the protocol was. Was he supposed to break his stare first? Would that imply some sort of guilt on his part? Was it rude to stare this long at Ylveryan? What this part of a spell triggered by the bowl?
“Ahem!” Beleg cleared his throat loudly and both sets of eyes, Tehynshin and Ylveryan, turned immediately towards the massive man. “Yu winda hozgoogo in’sin,” he stated softly, pressing his open hand to his chest and then gesturing to the Ylveryan woman. “You have our attention,” he said. Kre wasn’t sure if Beleg was repeating what he had said in Ylveryan for his benefit, or if he was just moving the conversation along.
Although, now that Kre thought about it, the words seemed familiar. Was it the same phrase that Beleg had whispered to the Ylveryan at the sword table.
He had no time to ask as the words seemed to motivate Virryn to lower her head and begin her story. “I must apologize first for overhearing you both. We were waiting in the hall for the highest ranked combatants and I seemed to be the only one left waiting. After a bit, I peeked in and found you discussing those swords with Grivallt. I could not hear you, but I saw his deference to you.
“It did not mean much at first, not until I heard you outside the door explaining the evils of slavery. That was when I knew you were different from the others. That was when I thought you would be worth the risk.”
“And a great risk it is,” Beleg murmured. “I am constantly surprised by the courage and spirit of your people.”
She blushed slightly and raised a hand to stall any further talk. Her other hand moved gently to the metal rod and she began to trace the rim of the bowl again. Kre had barely noticed that the low humming had faded considerably from the first playing of the bowl, but now the humming returned at full strength.
“Is that…” he gestured at the bowl, “like those candles that cost so much?” He wasn’t sure how else to ask the question without revealing too much of Dain’s secrets.
Beleg nodded once and left it at that. If Virryn caught on, or even cared, she gave no indication. She simply waited for the opportunity to speak again and took it.
“So here am I, asking if you are people willing to help us find our freedom despite the great risks that are sure to come.”
“You sure don’t coat things with honey,” Beleg chuckled. “Straight and to the point. I like that.”
“Does that mean you will help?” She looked up, not with hope in her eyes, but disbelief. Even she hadn’t been certain that this little gamble of hers would work.
Beleg shook his head, “I don’t know if we can. We have problems of our own, not the first of which is surviving this tournament.”