great clouds rolling over the hills
and if you close your eyes, does it almost feel
It is good for them to move forward promptly from the fall of Mountain. Brennen is glad to come to the call of a King with a brain in his head, and gladder still to come to the call of one who is familiar. He had been cautious of accepting unproven men into their ranks when Rapscallion and Mountain had come along (though not particularly inclined to do anything about it at first), and time had proven his gut feelings accurate. It would be good to return to a known status quo for a time.
So he lands amongst them, folding his wings and looking at the faces that surround him. Errant, of course, but moreso at the others. He knows little of Hurricane, though he approved of the way the other had deported himself while they dealt with their mad king. And Kratos – the young Brother is rash, perhaps, but is that not the way of the young? – Kratos is fierce as well, raw power that might be shaped to true skill with the temper of time. He had held his own against Brennen when the battled. Crito is there, a calm voice against their bright flames, and the warrior knows that he will be an asset when so many of them are warriors first and diplomats second. Then there are strangers – a silent chestnut there, and the mare. They are missing several of the other younger Brothers, but Brennen does not doubt that they will come in their time.
He listens to the others before he, too, speaks. “I am in favor of alliance with the Jungle and the Falls.” Those would be his first picks, in fact – he thinks with a half-smile of Malka and Scorch and the strength of the Jungle women, and his own affinity for the people of the Falls. None of Neraza’s brood rule there now, not for many years, but it doesn’t matter. One day they will return home, and Brennen will do the best he can to ensure they have a home to return to. The part of him that once loved her still owes them that, and he is glad they have the healing waters to make them a strong candidate for Alliance to his icy home.
He is more wary of magicians. “I do not think every Kingdom with a magician worthy of alliance.” he says quietly, “And unless the King goes himself, we may never know a magician unless they choose to reveal themselves. Better that we make our alliances few, and maintain a polite distance from the others. I think it will be enough that they know of Errant, and they will choose easier pickings.” Three of their Kingdom brethren will be without magicians because no magician could survive long in the Falls, Gates, or Chamber. Brennen feels no real affinity towards the Deserts without Morphine within their borders, has no cares for the Dale at all, and dislikes the Valley. Better to keep their alliances few, and uncomplicated.
“I, too, can go wherever necessary. Perhaps I should accompany Crito, just in case the women of the Jungle are less than receptive to our overtures.” He knows nothing of Crito’s familial link to the Amazons, nor probably do any of the other Brothers know of his own son living there even now, but he knows well the warrior skill the Amazons can bring to bear. It would not do for an overzealous sister to bring harm to their diplomat if Crito traveled alone.