"Oh, Ebroin. I should have guessed you'd follow me. Let him go, Halaern."
Bro was crushed, but smart enough not to argue when Halaern released him. He'd heard the name Halaern before: Trovar Halaern, the Simbul's forester. Turning around to face his captor, he saw the green metal circlet on the man's brow. Bro didn't want to believe that Trovar Halaern, elder of Yuirwood as well as the Simbul's forester, was in league with Red Wizards, but he couldn't think of another explanation.
And he couldn't look at Chayan.
"Ebroin," she said gently. "Ebroin, meet my cousin, Trovar Halaern. Halaern, meet Ebroin of MightyTree."
"The Ebroin of MightyTree-Rizcarn's son?"
Bro nodded glumly, still not looking at either of them.
"Shali's son?" the forester persisted. Bro nodded again. "Urell's daughter? And Laseli's? Sister of Mirran and Cresil?"
"Yes. Daughter and sister." It wasn't mockery. When Cha'Tel'Quessir met, they exchanged personal names, but when the meeting was important-when a man met an elder for the first time-Cha'Tel'Quessir exchanged lineages until they found a common ancestor. Bro wracked his memory for the proper lineages. So much time had passed since he'd recited them and he wanted so badly not to embarrass himself-again-that the names slipped through his mind's fingers. All but one:
"Eshtrelan's son?" Bro raised his eyes and held his breath.
The forester grinned. "Grandson. Her brother, Strael, went to MightyTree with Dassa."
Dassa had died long before Bro was born. He counted the generations and degrees on his knuckles, the way he'd been taught. "My twice-great-uncle's sister's daughter." He held out his hand.
Halaern seized it. "Well met, cousin. Don't go sneaking up on people when they're having a private conversation."
"He wasn't sneaking, Halaern. Bears make less noise."
Bro could have done without the backhand defense. "I'll leave now."
"No, stay. You're here now," Chayan insisted. "This concerns you."
He stayed and learned that the Thayan wizards had been following him and Rizcarn since the morning they'd picked up Lanig. He learned, too, that the forester and his cousin suspected that Rizcarn was the Cha'Tel'Quessir who'd turned traitor with Thay.
"He's strange," Bro protested. "He's not truly my father, but he'd never work with the Red Wizards. Never."
"It wouldn't be something he chose to do," Chayan explained. "The Red Wizards have a score of spells that can transform a good man into an evil one."
Bro felt sick and dizzy. "We-I've got to find him." He couldn't catch his breath; the trees were turning gray. "Got to stop him."
Halaern caught Bro's arm before he collapsed. "No one's saying that Rizcarn's been turned by the Red Wizards, I only think there's a chance that he's been. We found a corpse a few days ago, a Red Wizard corpse." The forester glanced at Chayan.
"Go ahead. Ebroin has nothing to hide. He told me everything yesterday. He won't be surprised that the Simbul was looking for him."
He was, but tried to hide the reaction-unsuccessfully, to judge from the looks both Chayan and Halaern gave him.
"We found it not all that far from where she said she left you, Ebroin of MightyTree, not all that far from where you met Rizcarn."
"Why me?" Bro asked. "I can almost understand Sulalk, because of Zandilar's Dancer. Dancer's important and never was mine, I understand that now. And the Simbul left Dancer with me. But I gave Dancer to Zandilar days ago. Why the arrow, too? I don't have anything left to give."
Halaern clapped Bro on the back, avoiding his scars. "I wondered about that, Ebroin. It's one of many questions I have for the Simbul, when next I see her."
"She won't answer them if she sees you've still got the knife she gave to Ebroin," Chayan said with a smile.
The forester flipped the knife, testing its balance, examining its steel, before handing it back to Bro. "Did she tell you it's Thayan-made?"
Bro gulped and hesitated before slipping the blade into its sheath. "Should I keep it?"
Halaern nodded. "But be careful who you show it to. With wizards about, it could be easily misunderstood-at least until we get rid of the wizards. It could be done-the getting rid of them, that is-with the Simbul's permission, of course. They're hardly wise in the ways of the Yuirwood, especially where magic's involved, and I don't think they know any more than we do-probably less. None of them speak the Cha'Tel'Quessir dialect. They're spying, but they aren't learning anything. They're following Rizcarn, like everyone else."
The forester was staring at his cousin again. Bro began to understand that Halaern had sent Chayan into the camp to be his eyes and ears since Halaern, himself, would have been recognized.
"I met her once," Chayan said. "I don't think I'd do anything without her permission, cousin. If she wants to give those Red Wizards more rope, it's not your decision to hang them early."
"Of course not. I won't do anything without her word. But I don't like it, not one bit. Thayan wizards don't belong here."
Bro agreed. "It's our forest. The Red Wizards are our enemies, too. The Simbul would never know if I told Yongour and the others-"
The forester held up his hand. "Don't even think about it, Ebroin."
"The Simbul doesn't know everything. She's not always right. Everyone's dead in Sulalk because of her." Bro could almost feel Chayan and Halaern wishing he would be quiet. They were looking at each other, not at him. "I'm not blaming her, not anymore, but the Simbul's not here, we are, and so are the Red Wizards."
"He has a point, cousin," Trovar Halaern said; Bro felt himself grow a handspan in his own estimation. "My lady, the Simbul, is not here, is she?"
Chayan looked very uncomfortable.
Bro pressed his luck. "More Cha'Tel'Quessir could be killed, and not just me. What about Lanig? What happened to him? Chayan said that was magic, too."
"Lanig?" the forester asked.
"Cha'Tel'Quessir," Chayan said quickly. "Ebroin and I found his body yesterday across the camp stream. Looked as if he'd been torn apart by something large, but my best guess is magic."
"Not Red Wizard spells, cousin. There were no wizards near the camp yesterday."
"You're certain? The solitaire didn't double back?"
"There were no wizards near the camp yesterday, cousin. If a man died by spellcraft yesterday, something else killed him, something far more subtle than any Thayan wizard, if neither you nor I knew about it until after it happened."
It was Chayan's turn to stare and the forester's to look uncomfortable. Bro had a suggestion:
"Why don't you come to the camp? Rizcarn's not there and they need an elder, especially with Red Wizards and worse all around us."
"I serve the Simbul, Ebroin, and she wants me in the forest for now. I'll send you back with Chayan. The two of you together should be equal to an elder. I'll take my leave of you now, cousin and friend. I'm sure your day will be more interesting than mine."
The elder of YuirWood bowed, took two steps into the forest and simply vanished. Bro couldn't contain his astonishment. His jaw dropped and he'd swear he heard Chayan laughing, though her lips hadn't moved.
"You seem to have recovered fully from your misadventures."
"The holes hurt a little, the cautery burns itch a bit. I-I want to apologize for the way I was yesterday. I think, maybe… I hope it was poison."
"I could check: take off your shirt and the bandages, see if everything's healed."
She was teasing him again, seeming to say one thing while meaning another. Bro kept his shirt laces where they were. "We should go back to the camp."