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The one that spoke to him now held a firm bearing, but softness lilt within her voice. She could not have been a woman yet; she seemed so small beneath the waving boughs, so bright despite the shade. That it had not occurred to anyone that the captive was ignorant about languages, peoples, and this royal aspect the girl held would only lead to further issues.

Then she spoke with another voice, this one carrying words that were almost like the words of the mountain; and when Drusk felt compelled to spew vitriol back, he found no energy left with which to do so. A great shuddering sigh heaved through him.

His was a language of beasts and beastly men.