‘This is Hawklan,’ he said simply, laying his hand on Hawklan’s shoulder again. ‘But how did you know of Anderras Darion and Oklar?’
Immediately his head was full of the sounds of amusement which seemed to focus on his surprise that they should be acquainted with Anderras Darion. Laced through it, however, were threads of distaste at the gaucherie of his own knowledge of the Castle as enshrined in his speech.
‘We know of Anderras Darion,’ said the voice, openly amused, but without amplification, then, almost grimly, ‘We know of Oklar also. But why should you cut his image thus?’ Isloman felt his eyes drawn to his carving. ‘And who is... Hawklan?’ The voice tested the sound, Hawklan, and found it wanting. ‘And why does he carry Ethriss’s sword?’
‘Hawklan’s a healer,’ Isloman said. ‘Perha
