Chapter Twenty-Seven
Accusations
Iadrawyn sat beside Valanandir in the Meeting Glade as the elves argued over what the sighting of the two Forsworn in the Jagged Mountains meant.
She shifted in the worn wooden seat of intertwining branches and stifled a sigh.
I should have a cushion made one of these days...
The sun had set hours ago, but the glade was ringed with torches as each elf had their say in the matter. The ancient trees seemed to dance in their guttering light. A cool, evening breeze carried the scent of burning pitch, mixed with the earthy scent of the forest itself. Iadrawyn took a long sip from the metal goblet that rested within her fingers, beaded with condensation. The watered wine was refreshing and had a sharp, dry taste that lingered on her tongue. She allowed it to
