Very much aware of his listener's tense interest, Inric begins the next verse. "Anvirin clanhold, mountain-claimed, ringed by rivers, forests, glens. Danger lurked along her way, mountain fog led Liss astray, cliffs and rivers forced delay, the trees hid Sar-Tenethin men."
In the Great Library, Anvar reads on. "Liss ran a longer distance overland, crossing the west branch of the Syathel river and twice having to hide from enemy fyels."
"Attaining the mountain's crown, Liss came at last to Anvirin. Standing proud in cleared ground, tall, encircling walls around, towering gates of wood, iron-bound - their danger lay within." Inric takes a breath, goes on. "She brought her message just in time. They closed the tunnels, blocked the way. Sar-Tenethin found, as they arrived at the end of their subsurface climb, their entrance blocked, their plan denied by the long miles Liss ran that day."
Liss' friend lets out a long breath, tension easing.