In the midday sun they approached Avar and as they drew ever closer to his home, Kael began to panic. How was he going to explain this woman and the child to his father? Dian would need a different tale from the one he’d contrived for Alyn—his father had known Fane never intended to marry before he left for his quest. What was he going to tell him? What could he possibly tell his father that he would believe?
He stared across the wagon at the girl. She had been subdued and servile ever since the previous afternoon, and this subservient behavior was most unbecoming. He knew he would have to apologize. That’s all there was to it. He was going to need her help and cooperation once they arrived at his home, for there was no way Dian would ever understand or accept that his only grandchild was the offspring of a troll, now in the care of a common tavern piece.
“I’m not angry with you,” he finally spoke. “I am only angry at myself, for I was not entirely honest with you when I told you about Elva’s mother.”
Alyn gazed at Kael quizzically and in that gaze, Kael melted. How he despised all this deception. How he longed to tell the truth, but who could accept the truth? Certainly not Dian. And most likely, not Alyn. Or could she? She had accepted the child believing its mother had been turned into a troll. Could she accept it knowing the unadulterated truth? How hard had it been for Kael to accept that truth himself?
He rubbed his aching forehead. Time was running out. He needed her help and he would have to take a chance. Too many lies had already been told.
“Elva’s mother,” too low for the drayman or his son to overhear, Kael spoke softly and strained for the correct words, “was a troll.”
“Yes, you told me that, sir. She was turned into a troll by your brother.”
“No. She was not turned into a troll. There was never a woman. Only a troll. She was always and only a troll.” He watched her closely, trying to gauge her reaction. She simply stared at him, her expression unreadable, so he continued to speak. “It … it was a chance encounter which produced a child, and when I found him, he begged me to care for the child when it was born. I could not refuse him. I couldn’t save my brother, but I could save his child. My father does not know any of this, and he must never know. He wouldn’t understand and if the truth were known, it would not bode well for you or I, or the child.”
Alyn looked down at the child in her arms in despair. Except for her ears, she did not look like a troll. She was perfect in every way. What kind of man had Fane been? How many other lies had her employer told her? A troll. A true and real troll! What was she to do? Refuse the child? How could she refuse it? It needed her and she was in debt to this man for two crowns and he certainly wasn’t going to recoup that debt with her flesh. What had she gotten herself into?
She gazed back at Kael, the distress upon his face like a veil. It was not the child’s fault it was born of a troll. Nor was it the fault of this man before her. It was understandable why he felt the need to lie. Besides, she had endured worse than this in the past. This was just a child. A helpless child. And this man did free her of her bond to the draper. Despite his damned imperious attitude, this new employer seemed to be a fair and good man.
“What would you have me do, sir?”
He looked her straight in the eye, taking a deep breath. “Lie for me. Tell my father that you are the child’s mother. That it was a chance encounter with you that produced the child. But not in the act of prostitution. He needs not know of your sordid past.” Dian might accept a bastard into his home if it were Fane’s child.
“That should be easy enough,” Alyn said. “I’m quite skilled in the art of pretending.”
“Are you any good at it? My father is not easily fooled.”
“I am a master, sir.” Her tone left no room for doubt.
“Very well.” Kael settled back against a barrel. “And please, make certain you keep her ears covered at all times. We have no need to try to explain those.”
“You would hide this from your father?”
“You do not know my father. He has very firm convictions. I will hide this at all costs.”
Kael hailed the drayman to stop when they reached the bridge that crossed the brook near his home and as he helped Alyn alight from the wagon, she gazed at the humble home of this warrior and his father, a bit dismayed. For some reason she had expected more of this man. She’d expected him to be in clover, as stiff-rumped as he was. This simple brick and stone house was rather small and unassuming, even for a warrior’s standards, but it was still a more agreeable abode than the tavern had been.
“Confound it. Out with you now. Out!” The deep voice bounded from the wooden barn beside the house. Kael headed that direction. Alyn followed, curious to meet this man her high-minded employer feared.
From the bright daylight, they stepped into murkiness through the barn door.
“Kael?” Dian dropped the foreleg of his horse. It had gotten a pebble stuck in its hoof and he had just finally dislodged it.
Catching sight of the man who had spoken, Alyn was astonished, nearly losing her balance. Encircling his head was the coronet of a chief warden! No mere warrior was this man of power and influence that her employer called Father. These men had royal blood, for only the first king’s descendants held the offices of power.
She gazed over at Kael with new awe and understanding. No wonder he possessed such airs. It was his birthright. Keeping a respectable distance behind him as he spoke, she became properly humbled.
Kael stepped forward. “Greetings, Father.”
“You are well, I take it?” Dian looked curiously beyond his son to the young woman and infant who stood behind him.
“Yes, I am well.” There was an extended, uncomfortable silence between them.
Dian finally broke it. “Did you find your brother?”
Kael took his father’s arm. “Let us go into the house, Father. I will tell you what I know of Fane.”
“He is dead, isn’t he?”
“I believe he is,” Kael answered, ushering his father out of the barn. Alyn lowered her head and clenched her eyes as Kael and Dian walked past her. Her actions did not escape Dian’s notice.
Once inside the house, Kael bade Alyn and his father to sit at the table in the inglenook, and he took a seat beside Dian.
“When I found Fane, he was still alive,” Kael began, “though he had been ruthlessly tortured by Ragg and he was not well.” The memory was heartbreaking to recall and Kael hesitated.
“Continue,” Dian said tonelessly, impatient to hear Kael’s account.
Kael struggled with his words. “He told me … of how Jink had saved his life by killing the winged-lion.”
“Seret is dead?”
“Killed by Jink’s hand, yes. But unfortunately, the lion killed Jink as well.”
Dian was silent, taking this in.
Kael went on. “Jink performed a great service, freeing the land from the scourge of that demon. He died a warrior’s death, Father. We should remember him that way and exonerate him.”
Dian nodded slowly. “This is true. It shall be done. But what of Fane?”
Kael had to force the words to come. “Fane, too, died a warrior’s death.”
“You were there?”
“No,” Kael said, shaking his head.
“Then how do you know how he died? How do you know he is dead?”
Alyn watched the two warriors parry, one young, one old, and her heart went out to Kael. She believed he could easily have shed tears at this point if he was a weaker man, but he fought to hold them back. Had the old man no compassion? Couldn’t he see his son’s pain?
“He is dead, Father. In my heart I know this, for Ragg would not let him live.” Kael pulled the talisman out from beneath his shirt. “This crystal he wore would not allow Ragg to touch him. It kept him alive as long as he wore it.”
“If he was alive when you found him and if that stone was keeping him alive, then why do you wear it now?”
The impl
ication behind the question plunged like a knife into Kael’s heart. His words came out hotly, choked. “I didn’t take it from him, Father. Ragg had imprisoned him. He forbade Fane from ever leaving the cave he’d confined him to. I wear the crystal because Fane gave it to me, and he would not take it back. I tried to get him to take it back, but he refused.”
“I do not understand.” Dian slammed his fist upon the table, eyes spitting fire. “If Ragg could not touch him then how could Ragg forbid him to leave?”
“Fane told me that Ragg had vowed to destroy Avar if he ever left the cave.”
The color vanished from the old warrior’s face as a flicker of comprehension crossed his eyes.
“It was a vow Fane did not doubt,” Kael continued. “For the sake of Avar, Fane could not leave the cave, and he did not want to live as a prisoner anymore. And he could not surrender this crystal to Ragg. It is vital to keep it from Ragg’s possession, and he gave it to me so that he could die in victory. He asked me to tell you, Father, that in the end … he chose a pathway to the light.”
Dian closed his eyes and said nothing while Kael struggled with his own composure. Alyn had been listening to Kael’s tale intently, beginning to feel a new respect for her employer’s wayward brother.
Finally, Dian’s eyes reopened and he spoke evenly to his son. “Hide that crystal away and don’t let anyone know you have it. It is a wizard’s stone, and it would be in your best interest to keep your possession of it a secret.” Dian straightened and shifted his gaze to Alyn. “Now, I believe you have something more to tell me.”
Kael gave a hard swallow. It had been easy to lie to the midwife and even easier to lie to the innkeeper. It was not so easy to lie to his father. Tucking the talisman back beneath his shirt, he tried to ignore the collywobbles creeping into his stomach, hesitant to begin.
“I was Fane’s wife,” Alyn spoke softly, breaking the tense silence.
Dian only stared at her in silent disbelief and Kael began to sweat. How was she going to convince him of that?
“I lived with my family on a farm near Lorane across the valley,” Alyn said. “One evening, I was herding the goats back home from the pasture when I stumbled into a hole and hurt my ankle. I was unable to walk and was far from home yet, and had begun to despair for nightfall was coming fast. It was then that two young strangers came my way. They said they were on their way to Skur to seek the treasure, but they chose to delay their journey to help me, and as Jink herded the goats, Fane carried me in his arms safely back to my home. I was quite taken with him, so handsome and strong he was, and he must have been taken with me as well, for the very next day we stepped into the circle of stones, with my family and Jink as witness, and pledged ourselves to one another.”
Her voice began to quake. “But he had his treasure to seek. I tried to dissuade him, but he was determined. He said he would be back for me.” Tears rolled from her eyes and she wiped at them with her fingertips. “But he never came back. Only his brother came, to tell me of Fane’s fate. Now all I have left of him is his child, conceived on our first and only night together. But I am grateful I have at least that.”
She was weeping buckets now and Kael could almost believe her tale himself. She truly was a master.
Dian was up, rubbing her shoulder. “Don’t cry, my dear.” He knelt beside her. “Your husband died an honorable death. He will live on forever in Empyrean. And you, the widow of my son, are more than welcome in my home.”
Dian bent and peered closely at the infant in her arms. “This is my grandchild?”
“Yes,” Alyn whispered through her tears. “Her name is Elva.”
“She looks just like her father,” Dian said.
“It’s a good thing, too,” Kael said, suddenly realizing he’d spoken the thought aloud.
Dian shot him a puzzled look.
“So … better for us to remember him.” Kael attempted to recover from the blunder, cursing himself silently inside.
4
Home
Dian placed a loaf of bread, a slab of smoked venison, and a block of cheese upon the table. It was typical fare for the men, and as the trio ate, Dian gazed at Alyn.
She certainly was a dimber lass, he mused. It was easy to see how Fane could have been taken with her so quickly. What an injudicious, headstrong boy Fane had been, so much like his mother, more so than Dian had cared to see for it was a painful reminder, but a reminder Dian had been willing to endure. Though he had grown increasingly frustrated by his late wife’s obstinate, free-thinking behaviors, it had been those very qualities that had attracted him to her in the first place. And she had certainly reincarnated herself within their youngest son, his head so filled with flights of fancy and willful disobedience. But nonetheless, Dian had loved the boy especially, holding out hope that he’d someday outgrow his impudence.
When Dian had returned from Fead last spring, Fane had already departed. He’d been furious with Kael for he’d left strict instructions for him to keep his brother from seeing his foolish intention through. But it wasn’t until after he’d gone to confront Fith that doubts began to occur in Dian’s mind. He had been certain that Fane would die upon that cursed mountain, yet the wizard assured him the boy was safe. The magician had given Fane a talisman to protect him from the dragon and the boy would surely return.
Every day Dian would stare at the shrouded peak across the valley, wondering if the wizard was right or wrong. The tension of his doubt must have worn heavily on Kael for eventually the boy swore he would go find his brother or die trying.
Still angered by Kael’s failure, he had made no move to stop him. Only after Kael had departed did Dian regret that action, for in his heart he knew that he’d never see either one of his sons again. He had delivered them both into the hands of the dragon.
But Kael had returned. Kael had returned and Fane would live on. Dian could not doubt that it was, indeed, Fane’s child, and even though the child was a girl, at least in this the boy had done well. And he had died well. Perhaps he hadn’t failed with Fane after all.
But he wasn’t quite as certain when it came to Kael. Although the boy had readily joined the King’s Service and was proving to be a capable warrior and valued scout, his sense of judgment wasn’t always as keen as it should be. He was prone to sudden, irrational behavior, acted upon with no thought or foresight. And the boy seemed to have no desire to interact with women. He was nearly twenty years old. Dian should have had several grandchildren by now. What was the boy waiting for? It was certainly not for lack of choices—he had seen his son refuse the advances of some of the most desirable young ladies in the realm, and Dian refused to entertain the notion that his son might be an usher of the back door. No son of his would dare! He could only conclude that Kael had not yet met the woman who would capture his heart, and perhaps he never would. At least Fane had enabled the bloodline to continue and perhaps that child might someday produce a son to carry on the stewardship of Avar.
During the silent meal Elva began to fuss and Alyn excused herself, retreating into the bedchamber that had been Fane’s, to feed the child. Kael watched her go and Dian watched Kael, delightfully noting Kael’s interest.
“She’s a fine woman,” Dian commented.
Kael brought his gaze back to meet his father’s. “Indeed,” he said. Pushing away from the table, he rose wearily to his feet. “I believe I’ll retire for the night, Father. My endurance has reached its end.”
As Dian watched his son disappear into his bedchamber, he wondered if perhaps he should have told the boy he was glad to have him home.
The following day, Kael went by foot into Avar to reclaim his horse from the stable. It felt good to be upon the gelding’s back once more and he raced the animal down the road and back, feeling the rush of the charge. It was the feel of true freedom and the exhilaration helped to ease the accreting tensions he’d been under, for his shame held the weight of battle armor. He had deceived his father. He had gulled him into h
olding a whore in high esteem, the worst being that he had no intention of ever revealing to Dian the truth. He would take the burden of these lies to his grave and be forever damned.
He rode the streets of Avar, grateful to resume his duty, glad to be back within the simplicity of the village instead of the congestion of Fead or the bleakness of Skur.
Coming upon the village square, he stared long at the pub, almost expecting to see Fane and Jink there. Oh, if only Fane was there! Kael would let him stay and drink to his heart’s content, for wasn’t it better to have a bibulous fool for a brother than to not have one anymore at all?
He shifted his gaze then to the smithy. The smith master, Rook, had a new boy as apprentice now, and Kael had to admit, neither Rook nor his new apprentice could come close to matching Jink’s skill. Jink could not help what he’d been born any more than Elva could. Fane had known that from the start. Kael was only beginning to comprehend it, and he wished he could’ve seen sooner, for despite his origins, Jink had proven himself to be a man of courage and honor in the end. Had he been one all along?
It was then that he caught sight of Fith. Fane had been the wizard’s apprentice—he should be told of Fane’s fate.
Kael reined his horse forward and eased up beside the long-bearded, wizened magician who walked briskly down the dusty street, his gray robe swishing.
“Good day, Fith,” Kael hailed.
“Ah, good day to you, Kael.” Fith’s hand bore a basket full of spotted mushrooms, herbs, and stones. Kael could only guess as to what importance they might possess.
“I have just come from Skur and have news of Fane.”
The Legacy of Skur: Volume One Page 20
