"Then it's settled," Ye Wei'an said decisively. "I'll go to the Swift Spear Clan's camp myself."
The words had barely left his mouth when the council hall's newfound excitement gave way to shock.
"You can't!" Morey was the first to jump up. "My lord, you're the lord of this land! You can't put yourself in danger. Those Lizardfolk may be more reasonable than Blackscale, but they're still savage swamp dwellers! What if the talks break down? What if they mean you harm—"
"My lord, let me go in your place!" Volodya dropped to one knee, hand on his sword hilt, determination written across his young face. "I may not be as wise as you, but no one of the Sebastian family shirks a fight! I swear on my family's honor that I won't fail you!"
"I'll go too!" Orin stepped forward. "My lord, if you trust me, let these old bones make the trip for you! Even if those Lizardfolk turn on me, you'll still be here to avenge me!"
"Enough." Ye Wei'an raised a hand and pressed it lightly downward.
The agitated crowd fell silent at once.
He looked over their anxious faces before his gaze settled on Volodya.
"Knight Morey, I appreciate your loyalty."
Volodya proudly straightened his chest.
"You said you'd go in my place," Ye Wei'an continued. "All right, then answer me this: as an envoy, can you communicate with the Lizardfolk?"
Volodya froze, then shook his head. "I—I can't."
"And you? Can you?" Ye Wei'an turned to Orin. Orin opened his mouth, then finally managed, "Can't Kobolds talk to Lizardfolk? I could bring a Kobold interpreter!"
"A Kobold interpreter?" Ye Wei'an gave a soft laugh and shook his head. "True, both Kobolds and Lizardfolk speak Draconic. But one variety of Draconic can differ from another.