Considering what had transpired the previous night, she shouldn’t have been upset. But she was. Aside from leaving to fight the Drulaack, Laegon had remained by her side since they’d sought refuge in the cave. So why leave now? What had changed?
Irewen frowned. She knew the answer even before she’d finished asking the question.
It was her.
Perhaps if she apologized...
Guilt instantly consumed her. He’d done that very thing the previous night. Stubbornly, and rather foolishly, she’d pushed him away, refusing to accept his apology.
The sound of footsteps attracted her attention. Turning, she saw Laegon coming towards the cave, a small deer slung over his shoulder. Stopping just inside the entrance, he stomped his feet to remove the snow from his boots then dropped the dead animal on the ground. Only then did he look at her.
She started to speak, but faltered. Gone was the elf who had opened his heart to her. Now, his deep brown eyes peered at her from behind a mask. Similar to when she’d first regained consciousness, he’d once again constructed a wall between them.
It was too late. The damage had been done. In a moment of vanity and stupidity, she’d destroyed the trusting relationship they’d built.
Impulsively, she took a step toward him, still unable to find her voice.
“It’s emaciated,” Laegon said, gesturing to the doe, “but it was all I could find without wandering too far from the cave. You need protein to help regain your strength.”
“Laegon, I...”
“I take it you have made your decision.”
“No,” she answered meekly. “Not yet.”
He nodded. “Let me know when you do.”
“Is that all you have to say?”
“What else would you have me say, Irewen?” he asked bluntly. “The choice of whether we leave or stay is yours to make. I will follow you. I will support you. But I will not decide for you.”
“I can’t decide!” she blurted out in frustration. “I’ve gone over both scenarios so many times that neither one seems right! I’m confused! I need your help!”
Laegon’s reply was thick with pain. “Though emotional and severe, I gave you my opinion last night. You did not accept it, nor did you accept my apology.”
Saying nothing else, he made his way through the small camp and sat by the fire. His slumped shoulders and drawn face made him appear more tired now than after killing the four Drulaack. It seemed strange to Irewen that someone so strong and fearless could look so vulnerable.
He still wore only his emerald green shirt and leather tunic, and he shivered slightly. Unpinning his cloak from around her neck, Irewen draped it over his shoulders before sitting next to him. Afraid to look at him, she directed her attention to the crackling flames; as if they would provide her with the answers she sought.
When she finally worked up the courage to speak, her voice was soft and demure.
“When Dremond told me we must leave, I thought the exact same things as you. My initial reaction was to simply stay here and wait for death to take me, but I knew you would not leave me here on my own. You have already done so much for me, risking your life for mine. If it is to be my end, I would rather die fighting in whatever manner I can, than to sit here, hiding in the shadows. Whatever my strength, I was prepared to get as far away from this cave as possible. Not for myself. But for you. For my people.”
Irewen paused, fully aware of the elf’s powerful stare boring into her. “Your words angered me,” she continued with difficulty. “Not because I disagreed, but because you forced me to realize my recklessness.”
She sighed, trying to find the right words. “My father spoiled me, Laegon. I was the light of his life. I was never denied anything. If I wanted something, it was given to me. If I complained about something, it was fixed. If I didn’t like something, it was replaced.
“My interaction with others was extremely limited. I rarely ventured outside the castle grounds. Those few who I did come in contact with treated me the same as my father, probably because they were afraid of his wrath if they didn’t. No one ever raised their voice to me. I was never opposed. Never challenged. Never wrong.
“It was the only form of love I knew. My reaction last evening was driven by pride and ignorance. I didn’t realize... I am sorry, Laegon. I did not see.”
Lowering her gaze, she sneered at herself in disdain. “You must think me a foolish young girl.”
Laegon’s normally robust voice sounded thin and distant when he spoke. “I have lived for two hundred and thirty-nine years, Irewen. To you, I probably seem ancient. But in the eyes of my people, I am a child. I do not have the experience and wisdom you expect.
“I was chosen by Brégen when I was fifteen. For over two hundred years I’ve been a Protector. I’ve been schooled as a prince since the day I was born. My duties are my life. I never had time or interest to pursue any personal relationships. I am not as educated in love as you think.” He took hold of her hand, his grasp firm, yet tender. “We are learning about it together.”
Looking into his mesmerizing eyes, she squeezed his hand. “Yes,” she said, unsure of what else to say.
His thin lips spread into a reassuring smile. “Now,” he continued, “regarding the predicament that started all of this. Tell me everything that happened yesterday while I was gone. If you are truly in danger, we will leave.”
Taking a deep breath, Irewen nodded. With deliberate slowness for fear of missing even a single detail, she recounted the events that had transpired after the prince left to face the Drulaack.
“I do not doubt the enemy will return,” Laegon admitted when she’d finished. “But you are not in immediate danger. The Drulaack will not come as quickly as you seem to believe. You must understand, Irewen, that the dead are reluctant to share their knowledge with the living, even after making a vow to help those in need. Their speech is often vague and confusing. You experienced this first-hand when Dremond told you to seek the blood of the four races. He answered your question, but not in a way you understood.
“As Dremond explained, when he died, he pledged to protect those who were helpless—people who took refuge within this cave and were unable to protect themselves against danger. The sick. The weak. The injured. That is why I could not remain here with you when the Drulaack attacked. I am certainly not weak and am far from helpless. If I had stayed inside this cave, I would have drowned just as surely as those three men. By saying he will not be able to come to your aid again, Dremond simply meant that when the Drulaack return, you will not be weak or defenseless. You will be healed and will be able to protect yourself, at least to some extent.”
“Are you sure?”
“Aye, I am quite sure,” he answered, sensing Brégen’s agreement. “For the time being, you are quite safe.”
Breathing deeply, Irewen was relieved to feel some of the tension leave her body. But her relief didn’t last long. Her brow furrowed in dismay. The good news was that one major dilemma had been solved. The bad news was that there were many questions left unanswered.
She wanted nothing more than to forget all of the horrid and disturbing things she’d experienced, but she couldn’t. No matter how hard she tried to push the multitude of questions and concerns aside, they kept flooding back into her mind like water rushing through a broken dam. Her mind screamed from the torment of the reckless invasions of confusing phrases, strange words, and hideous images.
Though it would solve nothing, part of her wanted to run far away and never come back. But there was nowhere for her to run. There was nowhere she could hide. Wherever she would go, Elthad would be close behind. If her cousin’s evil was allowed to remain unchecked and unchallenged, the world of Vaelinel would continue to deteriorate. As she’d decided earlier, she needed to fight. She wouldn’t rest until the fight was over.
Laegon’s brief account of his lifelong schooling mocked her. Never before had she regretted that her father hadn’t pushed her to become
more involved in his duties. Occasionally, her curiosity had gotten the best of her and she’d attended court and council meetings, but that hadn’t provided enough experience to rule a kingdom. Her cheeks reddened in shame. She knew nothing.
How was the nation’s stability maintained? Financially? Economically? Socially? Which tasks had her father handled himself? Which did he entrust to others? What of crises? What would she do in the case of a shortage of food or an epidemic? What about times of war? She didn’t know a thing of military strategy. How had he expected her to keep the people of Dargon safe when she took the throne?
She scowled. It was all a moot point now anyway. She had no kingdom and no people. Elthad needed to be destroyed. But what to do? Where to start?
Taking time to consider her options, she still had no answers. “Laegon,” she said, surprising even herself with the ruthless edge to her voice.
“Yes?”
“What did Dremond mean when he told me to seek the blood of the four races?”
“Dremond is referring to a prophecy of the Light Elves. Long ago, a young elf girl foresaw that there would come a time when a woman containing the blood of all four elven races would unite them and stand against an evil king of men. This very prophecy has been weighing heavily on my mind recently. Both Brégen and I suspected you to be that very woman. As events have unfolded, our suspicions have only grown stronger.
“There is a reason Elthad is so intent on seeing you dead, Irewen. It is not simply to secure his rule of the throne. As it stands now, you pose no threat to him. Should the people of Dargon realize you are still alive and want you to return, Elthad simply needs to reveal that you are quarter-elven, and they will want nothing to do with you. You have no reason to return.
“Yet, in spite of all this, your cousin continues to hunt you down. The second attempt was much bolder than the first. I doubt the third will be any different. He is afraid of you, Irewen. He is afraid of what you may become. He is afraid of the threat you may pose to him in the future. Not to his throne, but to his life. He cannot risk you uniting the four elven races. Elthad wants you dead. And he will stop at nothing to see that it happens.
“Our suspicions about you may prove true, and they may not. Either way, I believe the best place to begin your search is with your own ancestry. Discover the roots of your elven blood.”
Irewen immediately thought of her mother, dismayed she couldn’t even form an image of the woman in her mind. The daughter of a poor farmer. Half-elven. Shunned by all but the man who became her husband and fathered her child. Who was she other than a mythical figure who’d haunted Irewen all her life?
“But how?” she asked. “I know absolutely nothing about my elven heritage. Even my mother’s name is a mystery. How will I ever be able to trace my ancestry?”
“We already know you have the blood of the Green Elves. Since you have the gift of Míendvel, you also have the blood of the Wood Elves. Perhaps the best thing would be to begin your search with the prophecy itself and work your way forward from there.
“A detailed written account of the prophecy was placed in the archives of the Light Elves soon after the girl’s father spoke of the vision to Lord Greldir. If the document still exists, it may provide us with some other information as to the woman’s identity, or at the very least, an idea of where to begin our search. The girl who had the vision was of mixed elven blood herself. There were not many with such a characteristic, even so soon after the Divide. It may be that the woman she saw in her vision was one of her own descendants.”
Irewen nodded absently, staring into the fire. “I do not want Elthad’s evil to poison these lands,” she said quietly. “I know in my heart what must be done, but I am afraid. I’m not like you Laegon. I am a princess in name only. Nothing was expected of me. I’ve never had a single responsibility. When my father died, I was prepared to rule in his stead, but I did not have even the slightest inkling of how to go about it. The life I am familiar with is not the life I need to lead.”
“I want to hold you in my arms and tell you that you have nothing to fear,” Laegon confessed, “but we both know that would simply be a lie. Fear is a constant demon that haunts all of us, some more than others. You will never escape it. But you must learn to confront it. Only then will it be able to be defeated.”
Reaching forward, Laegon glided the back of his fingers down the side of her cheek. “I have faith in you, Irewen. Though you may not see it, you are courageous and strong. There is a fierceness to you that is the mark of an exceptional leader and warrior. You know what needs to be done, and you will find a way to do it. After a time, you will come to believe in yourself as well.”
She held his gaze, knowing every single thing he said was absolutely true. She needed to believe in herself. She needed to confront her fears. But knowing and doing were vastly different. She felt like a child standing on the edge of a pier, inching forward with painstaking slowness instead of simply casting all trepidation aside and plunging into the ominous waters.
Laegon spoke of her having the fierceness of a warrior, but she didn’t see how that was possible. She’d never considered herself a fighter, literally or figuratively. Then suddenly it hit her. She knew how she’d take a running jump into the water.
The lines of her face hardened in determination. “I want to learn to fight,” she said sharply, the sparkle in her crisp blue eyes revealing her fiery nature.
“What?” Laegon asked, shocked by her spontaneity.
“I want to learn how to fight,” she repeated. “I know nothing of battle. I have no skills with any weapons. That needs to change. As evidenced by recent events, I must be able to defend myself. You have sworn to protect me, but we both know there may come a time and place where you will be unable to come to my aid. I must know how to fight for you, for myself, and for my people. I want to become proficient with a sword and bow. And I want my training to begin this very moment.”
Laegon grinned. “You never cease to amaze me, Irewen. Only a minute ago you were telling me you were afraid to do what you knew you must. Now, you have hurled aside those fears and are on the verge of stealing my weapons.”
“I came to the conclusion that I need to do something drastic,” she replied candidly. “I need to do it now. I am comfortable here. It is easy to use my weakened condition as an excuse for my indecisiveness. In order for me to overcome my fears, I cannot wait until we leave this cave to take my first step, slowly crawling my way towards realizing my confidence. By then, it would be too late. I would never break free.”
“I knew you would come to realize that eventually,” Laegon replied, quite pleased with her response. “I am in total agreement with everything you have said. Unfortunately, I am going to keep my weapons securely at my side. You have yet to gain enough strength to wield any blades safely.
“That does not mean your instruction cannot begin immediately,” he continued quickly, smiling inwardly at the deadly glare she’d flashed in his direction. “Before anyone even thinks about touching a weapon, they must understand its function, for not all blades are equal. They are created for varying purposes and will serve you differently depending on your situation. Today we will focus on the elven short sword, dagger, halberd, and longbow. Tomorrow you will learn the weapons of your enemy.”
Standing, Laegon gathered the small cast iron pot. “Well, come on then,” he said playfully. “You do not expect me to prepare another meal all on my own, do you?”
She took his outstretched hand. “I would not dare,” she replied as he helped her stand. Together, with Laegon’s arm securely around her waist, they slowly made their way to the entrance of the cave. After lingering only long enough to scoop some snow into the pot, they returned to the warmth of the fire.
Her muscles screaming in protest, she didn’t argue when Laegon helped her settle on the bedroll. He hung the pot over the fire before taking a small parcel of crújend from his pack. A hard type of elven bread, crújend was known for its
hearty sustenance and was generally used for long journeys. Also known for its unutterably bland flavor, Irewen was reluctant to take the piece he offered her.
“It is not as horrid as you may think,” Laegon reassured her after noticing her hesitation. “It has a delicate floral flavor with a hint of lemon. Dried lavender and lilac petals are ground into the flour. It is actually quite tasty.”
Cautiously, she took a small bite and was delighted to learn his description was correct. “It is delicious!”
“Do not eat too quickly,” Laegon warned her as he dumped a few handfuls of grain into the boiling water. “Your stomach is still adjusting to solid foods, and this delicious porridge is yet to come!”
She wrinkled her nose. “If I had known you were simply making porridge, I would not have offered assistance!”
“Never fear,” he replied cheerfully. “Later we will put our culinary skills to the test by preparing a venison stew. Now, make yourself comfortable and listen carefully. Your formal training is about to begin!”
Laegon waited while Irewen arranged the woolen blanket over her legs before continuing. “We will begin with the smallest bladed weapon, slowly working our way towards the largest, and end with the longbow. This will be quite a bit of information to take in at once. I do not expect you to remember everything. There will be a great deal of new vocabulary and perplexing concepts. Do not hesitate to interrupt with any questions.”
Nibbling on the crújend, Irewen nodded her understanding. She listened to his words eagerly, soaking up the information like a sponge as the minutes turned into hours and the brilliant colors of dusk drifted into the cave.
9
THE FOLLOWING TWO AND A HALF DAYS SEEMED TO fly by as they concentrated on Irewen’s training and recovery. She was quickly able to learn the parts, characteristics, and uses of all the elven weapons as well as those most commonly favored by men.
Her strength improved enough by the morning of the second day that Laegon began her formal instruction with the short sword. Her muscles tired quickly, but she impressed him with her aptitude. Her reflexes were sharp and her movements precise.
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