You both deserve that life, she said before he could answer. A life together, whole and complete. Do not let this worry you. It is trivial. It is nothing.
“Nothing! It isn’t nothing that you have poison in your body. That some of your branches are dying. How can you expect me to just ignore that?”
Because, Braxton, my wonderful son, you don’t yet understand my life in this new form. Yes, a few of my branches have died, and in time, they will fall from my body, but no more than hairs from yours. Others will grow around them with new life, and my inner core remains strong. It is not necessary for you to anguish over every phase I endure, or you will cry often—with the change of each new season, I expect.
“This isn’t a natural change, Mom! Your body is poisoned!” He choked on the word.
Braxton! Her voice was strong. You have to let this go. I’m not dead, not yet anyhow, and I have saved the one you love and whom you are destined to be with. Put aside your grief, and go and live your lives together. It is all right. I will survive. She pulled away from him.
For a while at least, she added to herself. For a time.
Chapter 46
They left the house in the early afternoon and headed back toward Almon-Fey for the celebration and elven council Ruskin said they were expected to attend. Braxton was frustrated from his earlier conversation with his mom and still worried about her being poisoned. Having had time to think about their conversation, he reached out to her as they stepped outside.
I’m sorry, he said slowly. I promised myself I’d balance my emotions better and keep my energy calm and at peace. Yet, at my first testing, I failed.
It’s all right, Brax.You have done so very well. She embraced him in the warmth of their connection. Do not worry about me. I will always be here for you whenever you return, whenever you need me.
Thanks, Mom. He smiled, feeling better. You always know how to make me feel worthwhile somehow, even in my failures.
You haven’t failed, Braxton, not by any man’s measure. In contrast, you have achieved much more than you realize. Go and enjoy your time together.
Phinlera waited patiently beside him. She knew what he was doing. He embraced her and pulled her close, feeling her body pressed against his.
“Sorry!” he said quickly, when she winced and put a hand on her side. “I keep forgetting.”
“It’s fine,” she said casually, running her fingers through her hair and flashing him one of her brilliant smiles. He recognized the distraction.
“You all right?” he asked more seriously.
“Yes.” She took his hand in hers. Brax could tell she was trying to be strong, not wanting him to feel guilty, trying to hide her pain. “We’d better catch up with the others.” She pulled him down the porch stairs before looking away toward the forest trail. “They’re already over the rise.”
They walked for the rest of the day, allowing their dad to keep pace, and giving Phinlera time for an occasional rest or to stretch her side whenever she thought no one was looking. Each time they stopped, Bear ambled off into the undergrowth to sniff something of interest or chase one of the many surprised squirrels. Ruskin, as usual, grumbled under his breath—at least whenever he wasn’t talking to Brax’s dad. He went on about stupid ceremonies and how the elves always had to overdo and exaggerate everything.
“Why can’t they just go on with their lives?” he asked. “The war’s over.”
They reached Bendarren’s house as the afternoon sun slid toward the horizon. The elf stood outside, waiting for them among the little white wildflowers that grew more prolifically here than in the other parts of the forest they’d seen. He wore a deep-sapphire robe embroidered with silver runes down one side, and his long, straight white hair was beautifully groomed, falling casually onto his chest and over his shoulders. He still bore the white mark of the Fey Oath upon his face. It was his bright blue eyes, however, that captured Braxton’s attention as always, conveying the elven master’s wisdom.
“Welcome,” he said simply, extending his hand from the center of his chest. “I am pleased you will attend our evening festivities. King Eilandoran is looking forward to thanking you personally for your service.”
“Oh joy,” Ruskin mumbled.
“And I too am eternally grateful,” Bendarren continued, ignoring the dwarf, “to each of you, for the sacrifices you have made in saving our forest and her beautiful people.” He looked at Penton. “Know that your young friend’s death was not in vain. He departed this world thankful for the opportunity to have avenged his family and is at peace with himself and his service to your Empire. He’s left you everything he owned, as you know; his family’s home and heritage are yours now and will pass to all those who follow in your bloodline.”
Braxton looked surprised. “I thought you were going to live with us. With Phin and me.”
“No, Brax.” His brother took a silver key out of his pocket that was attached to a medallion by a small chain. “I will live in Gavin’s house now. The cottage is yours to keep.”
“But what about the forge? I haven’t the experience to smith for Oak Haven.”
“Nor will you need to. I still plan to take my inheritance as Dad has asked and will work the forge and take over our family’s business. I only hope I don’t wake you too early when I start each morning.” He laughed, lightening the mood.
“And I see that your friend here has chosen to live with the two of you,” Bendarren added, walking over to pat Bear. “May the three of you be blessed together.”
Phin bent down a bit awkwardly and held the elkhound’s muzzle, lifting his big head to look into his eyes. “Thank you,” she said, and he licked her face.
“Now that that’s settled,” Bendarren glanced about, “I believe the council is awaiting us.” He led them the rest of the way to the elven capital.
They arrived at Almon-Fey as sunset descended upon the majestic woodland city. Every elf throughout the forest seemed to have gathered in celebration, dressed in various forest colors, many with bright ribbons tied to their clothing or intertwined in their hair. All danced joyfully to the festive music that seemed to emanate from the trees themselves. Traversing rope ladders, the elves moved about in the gigantic oaks or along the forest floor, passing through open doors to every home and building throughout the city.
Everyone, Braxton noticed, had a white mark of some kind upon their face—a line here, a symbol there—having pledged their lives to help save Arbor Loren. Now they sang, danced, and enjoyed the abundant feast of cakes, fruits, hot pies, and steaming vegetables laid out on an endlessly long table that meandered throughout the capital. A veil of tiny sparkling white dust rained down from the canopy, further enhancing the bountiful display and disappearing whenever it touched anything.
“Not a single piece of venison among ’em,” Ruskin complained at seeing the food, shaking his head. Bendarren tapped him on the shoulder and pointed to a small cart laden with casks of wine and half-opened barrels of elven pipe leaf.
“Ho!” the dwarf said at seeing this most wondrous sight. He stood there a moment, staring wide-eyed and longingly. Brax even thought he saw a tear forming in his old friend’s eye. A moment later, Ruskin sat against a nearby tree with a large tankard in one hand and his smoldering pipe in the other.
“Now that’s a contented dwarf!” Pen commented, and the others agreed, pleased to finally see their friend at peace in the forest.
As the sun set in the western sky, a clear note sounded from some unseen trumpet. The elves seemed to recognize the signal and began moving toward the center of the city, crowding around the now enlarged platform where Braxton had first met Kael. The magnificent white throne, carved with inlaid oak leaves and small wildflowers, sat at the far end. Dozens of the high-backed leather chairs lined the court, their polished armrests reflecting a light from the lanterns floating above or in the nearby trees.
Bendarren guided them to a position in the center of the front row of pillow-topped b
enches that extended back a hundred rows or more. Braxton left a place for Ruskin to join, but doubted they’d see the dwarf. Bear lay down at Phinlera’s feet and was soon fast asleep. The chairs began filling up with many of the council leaders they remembered seeing before, and most of the benches were already occupied, with more elves gathering beyond the court, seeking positions in the forest that would afford them the best view. General Illian came over and personally thanked Brax, Phin, Penton, and their dad, saying how much he appreciated their service, their sacrifice, and all they’d done to help Arbor Loren in the war. He spoke with a few other elves before taking his seat in the first chair to the right of the throne. Brax looked at the empty seat beside Illian, remembering it as Kael’s position.
Phinlera placed her hand on his, and Braxton flinched. “You all right?” she asked.
“Yeah,” he said, sadly. “Just remembering Kael and Laefin.”
“I know. I miss them too.” She put her arm around him and laid her head on his shoulder.
Another trumpet sounded, and the court quieted down. Breem stepped up onto the platform and took the middle of three open seats next to the council elders on the left side. The human commander sat proudly representing the Empire, his polished metal breastplate reflecting the Imperial Lion, and his rich-purple cloak falling loosely behind him and across his chair. His black hair and thick mustache were neatly groomed, but his strong face seemed drawn and pale.
Several more trumpets brought the assemblage to their feet as King Eilandoran approached from the opposite end of the platform, farthest from his throne. Braxton caught a slight movement near Breem and glanced back to see Ruskin step up out of the crowd and stand in front of the chair to the left of the Empire commander, one seat closer to the throne. The sly badger had taken his position at the last possible moment before the elven king arrived. Brax was surprised to see he held a seat of distinction, expecting him to sit with them. But then it made sense that the elves would afford a place of honor to all their allies, leaving Braxton to wonder why he hadn’t thought of it before. He understood now why Ruskin had dreaded attending this council, knowing the dwarf’s distaste for such ceremonies.
Ruskin had actually attempted combing his hair—although he hadn’t done a very good job of it, removing only the larger leaves and other debris from his head and beard, leaving the smaller fragments behind. The dwarf seemed to realize that he was still smoking and holding a tankard of wine. He stuffed the smoldering pipe deep into his pocket and took a last quick drink. Finding the flask empty, he casually tossed it over his shoulder, much to the surprise of some nearby elves. It was all Braxton could do to stop from laughing aloud.
A moment later, King Eilandoran, escorted by a half-dozen soldiers, walked down the aisle between the benches, crossed the platform in front of the high-backed chairs, and took his place on the throne. The audience, taking their cue from him, sat as well. Eilandoran’s deep-green robe was covered by his striking forest cloak of overlapping leaves and long, golden feathers that Braxton now recognized from the eagles of Arbor Loren. His small wreath of tiny white gems accentuated the mark on his face, extending from his forehead and curving around to under his right eye. In his hand, he held a thick wooden staff, about a foot long, made from three distinct woods intertwined together, including a brilliant silver-white that matched his throne.
For a moment, the elven king just looked out at the audience. Then he stood and touched the fingers of his right hand to the center of his chest, to his forehead, and out to his people in the familiar forest greeting. As one the elves rose and repeated the motion back, raising their voices together in a single note that caused the hairs on the back of Braxton’s neck to stand on edge and the spirit magic to awaken. Eilandoran raised his hand and the audience fell silent and sat down.
“Beautiful people of Arbor Loren, distinguished guests to our woodland realm, and gathered friends of old,” the king said. “Our most beloved and ancient forest home has been saved!” The assembly erupted with singing, applauding, and blaring trumpets everywhere. Braxton became incredibly dizzy, swaying as the energy surged through him in massive waves of such intensity that he felt both euphoric and nauseated. An instant later, the sounds ceased, and silence fell over Almon-Fey, allowing Braxton to keep his stomach.
“We have fulfilled the Fey Oath!” the king announced proudly, and the elves cheered, clapped, and trumpeted again before starting to sing in unison, causing the spirit magic in Braxton to surge anew.
“It is my distinct honor,” Eilandoran continued after the tumult had quieted down a bit, “to celebrate with you in this momentous achievement and to thank you for your undying loyalty and service to the White Wood. This was a great time of personal commitment, a time when all Loren’s people were called to her aid. You answered that call magnificently, with both honor and distinction.” The elves cheered.
The king held up his hand again for silence. “I want to especially thank those who came and sacrificed with us in our great time of need.” He extended his arm toward Breem, Ruskin, and the empty chair. “Without their help, I am sure we would not be here today.” Silently and as one, the elves stood and made the gesture of recognition, touching their chests and foreheads with both hands, and then extending their arms out toward the allies sitting in their court.
“But of all those who were brought to us,” the king said aloud, “it is to the Elhunarie and his Chosen that we are most grateful.” He walked over and stood in front of Braxton. “Without their warning, we would have surely been defeated.” He extended his hand.
Braxton was so surprised he didn’t move. Phinlera nudged him, encouraging him to stand. He got up and shook the king’s hand awkwardly. The crowd erupted once more.
“I offer you this token of appreciation for helping to save Fey Ethel.” Eilandoran held out the small interwoven staff across his upturned palms. “May it be a symbol of gratitude for your guidance and forever serve as a reminder to our people of your service to Arbor Loren.”
“Thank you,” Braxton replied. He took the staff and bowed to the king, not knowing what else to do. Eilandoran smiled then turned and thanked Phinlera and Penton, before honoring their dad as well. When he was done, he walked over to Breem and Ruskin.
“To our allies,” the elf said in his strong, regal voice, “we are eternally grateful.” He shook each of their hands in turn as they stood. Ruskin’s pocket leaked an endless stream of faint gray smoke.
“We thank King Balan,” Eilandoran announced loudly, “whose youthfulness is surpassed only by his great wisdom for sending his legendary knights and their brave captain to our aid.” He turned to an assistant behind him, retrieved a beautiful golden leaf from a silver pillow, and pinned it to Breem’s collar. Then he handed him an intricately carved wooden scroll tube. Breem bowed, thanked the king for the gift, and shook his hand again proudly before turning to look at the cheering crowd.
“And to the mighty King Tharak and all his stout warriors from the Spine”—Eilandoran continued, turning toward Ruskin—“we are forever indebted to you for your help.” He presented the dwarf with an exquisite pipe made from the same white wood as the throne. For the first time, Braxton saw Ruskin at a loss for words. But his bearded friend reached out with shaking hands and accepted the magnificent gift, as if the elven king were giving him more wealth than all the jewels beneath the earth.
“From the ashes of a fire that almost consumed us,” the king said, turning back toward the court and gathered assemblage, “old kinships have awakened. The ancient allegiances with our friends to the north and west are renewed, and even now, new opportunities for cooperation with the ogre people have begun.” He indicated the empty chair next to Breem. “May this time serve as a beginning for our world, a new era in which we come together in peace and friendship as in times of old, that all our great nations may once more celebrate in open and supportive collaboration.” The applause and cheers began again.
“Now we must turn inwar
d and recognize those within our own borders who served Arbor Loren with special distinction,” Eilandoran announced. He went on for more than an hour, thanking various woodland people for their service, recognizing General Illian for leading the charge from the forest that drew the attention of their enemy at a critical moment and awarding him a special distinction. He thanked Bellnella and Tentalis for the assistance of the Talonguard, recognized the skillful accuracy of the elven archers, and commended the masterful swordsmanship of the army’s elite. Each time the elves applauded proudly. But it was the gratitude toward the elflings, specifically Jenphinlin and Jenterra, and mentioning Brax’s mom by name, that touched Braxton the most. He swallowed hard to maintain his composure.
“And finally,” the elven king said, bringing his speech to its natural close, “I wish to recognize Kael Illyuntarie.” He announced the name sadly. “Not as your king or as your leader do I say this, but as your friend. For no other throughout our magnificent realm suffered more or lost as much than he and his kin. It is with great sadness that we witness the end of the Illyuntarie line . . . for that branch in our great forest will grow no further.” He paused to let the weight of his words settle on the crowd. “May he and his family’s name be forever remembered with fondness, with pride, with gratitude, and with the highest level of recognition we can afford them.”
For one brief and beautiful moment, the forest went perfectly still. No one moved, no creature stirred, no evening birds sang. Even the wind itself seemed subdued. The starlight dust that had fallen throughout the evening hung suspended in the air as the world around them stopped in silent remembrance.
Beloved child. Serene’s voice sounded in Brax’s mind, causing him to jump. Allow me to speak. She hadn’t spoken to him since the fight with Sotchek and Morgaroth, and Brax was excited now to have her return. He had so much to ask her. But he pulled his consciousness aside, allowing her to take over. Standing up, he closed his eyes.
Cathadeus_Book One of the Walking Gates Page 31
