He knew he was held the least among equals. Proud Saruman’s glance spoke as loudly as words. The wizard was a fool who would waste his time on the study of birds.
A crow swooped down from the bookcase and hopped across the table, leaving black tracks on the freshly inked pages of The Noble Tongue of the Eagles.
“You have no respect for learning, Randir.” He stroked the coal-sleek wings then set out a dish of seeds to keep the rascal at bay.
Radagast took up the quill. “In the speech of the eagles, the word for friend is…”
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