I pointed to my chest. “Sigrune.”
More gunfire sounded, bullets whizzing right above the hole. It was a ludicrous time to try to communicate with someone. I went back to shoveling the debris off him. We could play Charades later.
“I’m sorry I do not speak your language,” the dwarf said. “I am Belohk. You have saved my life and slain my captors. You are a mighty warrior.”
“I’m glad you think so.” It was legions above the dragons calling me a mongrel and a criminal.
I know a few words in his language, Damas said, bringing more charms over. The thong was broken so I could only stick them in my pocket for now and hope I didn’t lose any. I’ll attempt to share what you’re saying.
Good. Thank you.
“I should have realized as soon as I saw your sword. The blade of Dondethor, a true master cra
