"The soldiers are grumbling about a false alarm," he said. "The people are excited, but more as though they were playing a game. Kushat has not fought a war for centuries." He sighed. "The pity of it is, Stark, I believe your story. And I'm afraid."
Thanis handed him a steaming bowl. "Here—employ your tongue with this. Afraid, indeed! Have you forgotten the Wall? No one has carried it since the city was built. Let them attack!"
Stark was amused. "For a child, you know much concerning war."
"I knew enough to save your skin!" she flared, and Balin smiled.
"She has you there, Stark. And speaking of skins...." He glanced up at the belt. "Or better, speaking of talismans, which we were not. How did you come by it?"
Stark told him. "He had a sin on his soul, did Camar. And—he was my friend."
Balin looked at him with deep respect. "You were a fool," he said. "Look you. The thing is returned to Kushat. Your promise is kept. There is nothing for you here but danger, and were I you I would not wait to be flayed, or slain, or taken in a quarrel that is not yours."
"Ah," said Stark softly, "but it is mine. The Lord Ciaran made it so." He, too, glanced at the belt. "What of the talisman?"
"Return it where it came from," Thanis said. "My brother is a better thief than Camar. He can certainly do that."
"No!" said Balin, with surprising force. "We will keep it, Stark and I. Whether it has power, I do not know. But if it has—I think Kushat will need it, and in strong hands."