A Feather on the Breath of Ellulianaen

by Robert Denethon

  ~

  But, as is the way of things in life, something intervened to curtail their happiness. The following evening, a travelling merchant arrived at the tavern holding aloft a letter. “Is there a man named Zhallad here? I have a message from the Dukedom of Chashae Hillaela for a man named Zhallad.” “I am he,” responded Zhallad.

  And the traveller handed him the letter. The envelope was marked with the seal of his brother, Duke Maddon Udvéwynn, and he opened and read:

  Dear brother,

  Since the sad news of your wife’s death you have often been in my thoughts, and I have often wondered how you are travelling. I know that you left our home many years ago, feeling that, since you were not to be the Duke, you would make your own fortune, and forge your own pathway in the world. I know that things did not work out as you would have wanted, for, just when material security seemed in your grasp your wife Werata died. You know that I understand your sorrows, brother, for I too have lost my dearest and best.

  Well, I am writing to you to remind you that you always have a home here. The castle is certainly big enough ~ you know you do not need to fear that there might not be enough rooms. And my son is here, and we have many servants. The farmers are happy enough to provide us with sufficient food, in return for protection against the Zwaegwyr, for in the last few years their numbers have increased, and some of the southern farms have suffered grievous losses.

  I know the Nomoi are a thorn in our sides, but thankfully they need us, for they do not have the numbers to administer the north, and for a while at least our farms and castles are safe, for at present the Emperor’s mind is on other things, spiritual things, believe it or not! Who would have thought it of an elf.

  There’s something else I didn’t really want to mention, but I feel that I should. My health has not been as good as I would have liked. The doctors have virtually pronounced me dead twice in the last month, but you know how they are ~ they like to predict the worst, so that if their patient recovers they look like miracle workers, and then they can charge to the hilt and you’ll still be grateful. Of course, they never told me that they thought I was going to die ~ told my boy, though, tough nut that he is, he tells me everything, a real straight talker, straight to the point. Going to make a good Duke, I would warrant, but not too soon I hope.

  You wouldn’t know I was ill to look at me, though, Zhallad ~ most of the time I’m fine, strong as I ever was. Just have a funny turn once in a while, & must take to bed.

  In any case, it would give me great pleasure and do me the world of good to see you again, brother. Please don’t delay,

  Your own brother,

  Duke Maddon Udvéwynn ~ written in my own hand.

  ~

  And Zhallad asked to speak to Hinfane privately.

  He showed her the letter. “I must go to see him. It may be the last time…”

  She touched his hand tenderly and said simply, “Zhallad. Come back. Please come back.”

  “I will, I promise.”

  Then he went and packed his bags immediately, and within an hour he was on his horse, travelling southward through the mountain pass that led to the Iaruiolae plains.