If the elven harwynglaive was made afraid by Belloc's words, it was difficult to tell, though she was very pale, and swallowed once as he spoke. When she replied, her voice was steady, though resigned.
"I hear you, my Lord Belloc."
Belloc sighed, considering her. She did not meet his eye, but kept her gaze fixed on nothing, and lowered somewhat.
"Why are you here, witness to our departure, which was to be kept secret?" Belloc asked her formally. "Speak swiftly!"
"Your way and mine lie in the same direction," the young elf woman said simply. "Is it my fault the secrets of men are so easily laid bare by those of elvenkind?"
A long silence followed, in which the others waited upon Belloc's decision with sick dread, wondering if he would order the execution of one of elvenkind.
But at last the old wizard spoke. "Let us be on our way. There will be death aplenty in the upcoming weeks and months to come. There is no sense in increasing our losses by our own hand."
As they set out, at a gesture from Belloc, Brogan rode at his side. After them rode Belloc's two captains. It did not go unnoticed by Brogan that Dorain rode behind these men, looking very ill at ease.
They journeyed thus for the next fortnight, and for their part, though they faced a shared journey ahead, Brogan and the elven swordmain spoke together only as a matter of apparent sufferance.