“You should listen to Furl, dear. He is wise,” Kara said with a teasing smile. “So tell me, how is Bran? He is keeping you out of trouble, isn’t he?” Kara asked smiling happily for the first time in days.
Kale bowed his head and spoke softly. “Bran is Axethane now. And, aye, he is keeping me out of trouble and danger, for that matter. He sent me on this mission to remove me from that danger.”
Kara’s eyes grew round at hearing Bran was Axethane and she did not seem to notice the resentment in Kale’s words. “Bran is Axethane? I cannot imagine him as such.”
“I was there, Kara. I witnessed it with my own eyes. He is our leader now, and I still do not know how I feel about it. I mean, he is Axethane, and he has proven himself to be the kind of leader only an Axethane can truly be,” Kale tried to explain.
“So Bran has changed as well. He has responsibilities now, my love, but I cannot conceive of him discarding your friendship.”
“He did not. I did. I don’t know how to describe how I feel. He was my best friend and now it seems wrong to assume such familiarity with him; as if it would be disrespectful.”
“So this is the change I see in you. Kale, you anvil-brained, hammer breaker! How do you think Bran feels? You turned your back on him when he probably needed you the most. There he is dealing with all the changes that come with his new station and you just up and tell him you’re not friends anymore? I have a mind to let the Delvers use your head to crack stone at the quarry!” Kara said in exasperation.
Kale flinched as if Kara had physically struck him. “It wasn’t exactly like that,” Kale replied meekly.
“Then what, exactly, was it like?”
“I don’t know,” Kale said with a shrug. He remembered the hurt look on Bran’s face that day, but he couldn't get passed the knowledge that Bran was different now; someone to be respected, not someone to joke around with like in their younger days. “I know it hurt him, but I cannot see him as he was. Damn it, Kara,” Kale said and slammed his fist down on the table, “he is Axethane. He is apart from us now.”
“Only because you make it so,” Kara said gently, covering Kale’s fist with her hands. Kara rose to her feet, her bowl of stew untouched. “I have to see someone.”
Kale stood up as well. “I’ll come with you.”
“No, you eat. You will have to leave soon, and you need your strength. I will be back in a little while,” Kara assured him.
“Don’t be long. We haven’t much time together, and The Great One only knows how long it will be before we see each other again,” Kale told her tenderly.
Kara smiled at him. “I will return as quickly as possible.”
Kale’s eyes followed Kara as she left the hall. He heaved a tremendous sigh and turned his attention to the bowl of stew before him. He really wasn't that hungry, but he knew that if Kara did not see an empty bowl when she returned, he would never hear the end of it. As he started eating, Kale remembered the last meal he had eaten in this hall. It was the day Bran had become an Axethane. Kale shook his head, pushed the thought from his mind and focused on his stew.
Ralk carried Gant to his quarters and gently laid him down on the cot.
Gant had been muttering non-stop the whole way, repeating one single word over and over, no.
As Ralk started to straighten up, Gant clamped a hand to his father’s wrist.
Ralk grimaced at the vise like grip, but said nothing.
“Please make him stop, father,” Gant pleaded.
“Make who stop, lad?”
“The Axethane. Please make him go away. I don’t want to hear him anymore.”
Ralk stiffened. “Why would you want him to go away? What is he saying, son?”
“He tells me Jame is dead. Oh, father! He says mother is gone, too,” Gant told him and went slack on the cot, releasing Ralk’s wrist.
Ralk fell to his knees beside his son and bowed his head. Tears streamed from his eyes, but no sound came from him. Ralk reached out tenderly and stroked his son’s hair. “Son, look at me.”
Gant was still repeating the word no, over and over.
Ralk had to reach him. He rose to his feet, wiped his eyes and squared his shoulders. “Captain, Gant! On your feet, Forger!” Ralk barked out the command.
Gant stiffened at the tone and rose instantly to his feet in front of Ralk, the command instantly breaking through his grief. He stood facing his father with tears still flowing down his cheeks. “Yes, Axethane.”
“We leave at dawn for The Slot. Our people have need of us. They have been sorely pressed, and our axes are required,” Ralk’s voice still held the ring of command.
Gant wiped a hand across his eyes and stood at attention. “Yes, Axethane.”
Ralk’s face softened a bit. “Be ready, son. Listen to the Axethane. You are certainly worthy of him and, although the news he carries is not what we would want to hear, he would not mislead you. If he says Henna and Jame are gone, then all is left us is to make sure those responsible pay from their crimes,” Ralk told him, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You can reject the Axethane, that is your choice, but know that I have never regretted my decision; and I would be proud to have you at my side as Axethane or as my son. You must decide before we leave. I know it is not much time, but in war there is never enough time. There are things we must discuss if you become Axethane. I will need your answer an hour before we depart at the latest.”
Gant simply nodded and bowed his head. “Do you think it is true, father? Could they both really be dead?”
“Aye. If an Axethane brought you this news then it is beyond reproach. I am so sorry, my son. You have lost so much so quickly. I never wanted you to have to go through something like this, but I know the pain you feel.” Ralk pushed Gant down so he sat on the edge of the cot and then he sat down beside him. Ralk leaned over resting his elbows on his knees and folded his hands together. “I never told you this, but I had a wife before Henna, your mother. Her name was Silven. We had been married for a little over two years when the race war started,” Ralk said softly.
Gant was startled by the news and stared at his father, though Ralk kept his eyes on the floor.
“When I was called to my unit, Silven was eight months pregnant. One night, we were fighting a fierce battle in the Glimmen Marsh against a large group of Shifters and suddenly there was a voice in my head speaking to me and showing me maneuvers I had never seen before. I ignored it at first, but it persisted. I began to try a few of the moves. Before I knew what had happened, I was knee deep in Shifter corpses and the battle was over. Our unit lost twelve men, but we had cut down nearly four hundred Shifters. When the count was announced, I had killed over two hundred of them myself. The men proclaimed me Axethane and saluted me. I was several years younger than you are now.
"I recall the tale of how you became an Axethane," Gant commented.
"Yes, but there's more to it. After the men saluted me, the Axethane told me Silven had died in childbirth. My son had lived for only a few minutes, and then he joined his mother at the Great One’s side. I was devastated and refused to believe it. I asked that a runner be sent to learn the truth of the matter. Four days later word was brought to me that it was true. The Axethane had been silent during that time. After the news was confirmed and, I was alone with my grief, he spoke to me again. He told me that he was sorry for my loss and felt badly that he had to bring me such sad news, but that was how most Axethanes were chosen. They tended to choose Forgers without families because of the danger in which becoming Axethane placed that Forger. I accepted the mantle of Axethane then and there,” Ralk finished.
“Why have you never told me this before, father?”
“It was in the past and it was a painful memory I did not wish to relive. I only tell you now so you will have a little better understanding of why the Axethane has come to you. It is a great honor you are being offered, my son. Think not lightly on the matter.”
“My half-brother, what was his n
ame?” Gant asked softly.
“I named him Grant after his great grandsire.”
“So I am named after him.”
“No, you were named in memory of him, but it would have been wrong of me to try to make you someone you were not. You are your own man, and I couldn’t be more proud of who you are.”
“Thank you, father. I will consider all you have told me.”
“That is all I ask. Get a little rest. I will return for your answer an hour before dawn.” Ralk left the room and quietly shut the door. He knew the pain his son was feeling. He had lost his whole family in a matter of a couple of days.
Ralk also knew that this was not the time to grieve. There would be plenty of time for that when the war was over. Now was the time for avenging those who were lost. As he walked down the corridor leading to the dining hall, he saw Kale’s wife walking toward him.
She stopped in front of Ralk and bowed her head. “Axethane, could I speak with you?” She asked quietly.
“Of course, Kara, isn’t it? What may I do for you?” Ralk inquired, pushing everything out of his mind.
“Yes, Axethane. I was wondering if you would speak to Kale. Maybe you could make him understand.”
Ralk looked at Kara with a puzzled expression. “Understand what, lass?”
“Well, Kale has always been best friends with Axethane Bran and, well, I think he is afraid of being friends with him now,” Kara tried to explain.
Ralk nodded in understanding. “I think I know what you are asking. He feels awed by the fact that Bran is Axethane and doesn’t think familiarity is respectful. It is not uncommon.” Ralk turned Kara around and wrapped a fatherly arm around her shoulders as he led her back to the dining hall. “I’ll see what I can do, lass.”
“Thank you, Axethane. They have been best friends their whole lives. I can see what this has done to Kale. I imagine Axethane Bran is feeling the same sadness.”
“I can assure you he is. Just because we are Axethane does not change how we feel about our friends. Leaders often suffer the loneliness of isolation, revered leaders even more so because everyone tries to always be respectful and places them on a pedestal of awe and reverence that is beyond the reach of friendship,” Ralk explained.
“Is Captain Gant going to be alright?” Kara asked after a few moments of silence.
“Aye, he will be fine, in time. His grief will fade as will all of ours, eventually.”
“So he was not injured, then?”
Ralk tapped his chest with his palm. “Only in here, lass.”
Kara nodded in understanding. Everyone knew Captain Gant had recently lost his young son, Hine. Placing a protective hand on her stomach, she knew how he must feel. It nearly brought her to tears. “No one should have to bury a child,” Kara replied gently.
“You are right, lass. It is the cruelest task this life can hand out.”
Chapter Seventeen
Michael glanced around the camp. The brightly colored tents were muted in the darkness. A lot of activity revolved around the center of the camp. The elves in the immediate area relaxed their guard when they saw who it was that had suddenly popped into their compound. Micah was already striding forward, heading for the group of elves, with Colonel Bastise a half-step behind him.
The Colonel’s massive frame completely occluded Micah from Michael’s view as they walked off. Michael was once again impressed with Colonel Bastise’s size. He was almost as wide in the shoulders as Branik, but he was a full head taller, making Bastise appear much larger.
Michael glanced over his shoulder at Branik. “I wonder who would win in an arm wrestling match,” Michael thought. He shrugged and started toward the center as well, Branik and Reek right behind him.
The elves parted fluidly as Micah walked among them. When he reached the group of people in the middle of the ring, Micah saw Joshua and smiled. His gaze took in Mael and the white haired man on the opposite side of his nephew.
Unexpectedly, Micah's nostrils caught the distinct scent of Were. He looked again at the white haired man. Yes, it was him. The man appeared calm and unconcerned about his surroundings. For a Were, trapped within a ring of elves, he did not display the sense of loathing and fear that such circumstances would merit.
Micah shook his head and laughed. “Well Joshua, it seems your penchant for dramatic entrances even extends to other worlds.”
Hearing the familiar voice of his uncle, Joshua straightened and turned in the direction of his voice. “A man must remain true to himself if he is not to be labeled a hypocrite,” Joshua bantered. “In all honesty, I cannot claim the credit. Wizard Mael and Rein have upstaged me this time.”
Micah turned his eyes from his nephew to Mael. “I thank you, Wizard Mael, for freeing Joshua.”
“Your thanks are not necessary. This makes us even. My debt to you is paid,” Mael said curtly.
“So it would seem,” Micah replied, the smile leaving his face. Micah turned to the white haired man and bowed slightly. “It is my pleasure to meet someone from the house of Felinius once again.”
Rein smiled as he heard the gasps of shock coming from the surrounding elves. Their silence was broken by the buzz of whispered murmuring moving through their ranks.
Ataum, at hearing the name, stepped forward. “Is this true? Are you of the House of Felinius?” Ataum asked in surprise.
Rein turned to the tall blonde elf and bowed low with courtly grace. “It is true. I am Prince Rein, and I am at your service.”
The murmuring among the elves grew more excited. The House of Felinius was one of the clans of High Caste Weres that fought alongside the elves in the Race War.
Joshua stood stunned and gaping at discovering Rein to be a prince.
“Close your mouth Joshua, you look like an awestruck tourist,” Micah commented smiling.
Alissa stepped up beside Ataum and bowed to Rein.
Ataum turned to see his wife and looked once again at Rein. “Prince Rein, this is my wife, Alissa, and I am Ataum, Captain of the Forest Guard.”
“Ah, a pleasure to meet you, Princess Alissa,” Rein said bowing to Alissa. “And you also, Prince Ataum. I had not expected to meet members of the Royal House here.”
“We are in exile. All of us,” Ataum explained with sadness tinting his voice.
“I was informed that the elves had split over the war. I was, however, unaware of the particulars. I am glad to see that at least a few of the Royal House still have some common sense. I had no doubt the Forest guard would be here,” Rein said bowing again to the crowd in general.
Smiles lit up elven faces at hearing Rein’s words and seeing how he treated their Prince and Princess. The Royal House of the High Caste Weres was greatly respected among the elves for their valiant efforts in the Race Wars.
“Prince Rein, I believe Wizard Merric would be grateful if you would meet with him. Word of what the High Caste’s plans are for this war would be of great interest to him, and to me, for that matter. If you would accompany me to Kantwell…” Micah interjected before further pleasantries could be exchanged.
“Of course, Lord Micah,” Rein answered.
Micah lead Joshua and Rein toward where Michael, Reek, Branik and Colonel Bastise waited a few feet away. He noticed that Mael followed as well. Micah turned to Mael as if in afterthought. “Is there something I can do for you, Wizard Mael?” Micah asked.
“It seems I am without a home at the present. Perhaps you could speak with Wizard Merric about the possibility of temporary accommodations for me,” Mael replied smoothly.
“If you would kindly wait here, I will inquire with Merric on your behalf,” Micah replied just as smoothly.
Damn the man. Mael thought to himself. He is making this another favor so I will owe him once again. Mael bowed to Micah, keeping his face expressionless. “I would greatly appreciate that.”
Micah chuckled. “I doubt that, but I will inquire nonetheless.” Turning to Michael, Micah said, “Please take us back to Kan
twell, Michael.”
Michael tore his eyes from Mael and nodding, spoke the words of transport. He heard Joshua groan and felt sympathy for him.
They reappeared in Kantwell’s Great Hall.
Micah grasped Joshua’s arm as he bent forward clutching his stomach. “Breathe easy, Joshua. It will pass quickly,” Micah informed him.
Michael and Colonel Bastise both looked at Joshua knowingly. They were both new enough at teleporting to feel for him.
Joshua was prepared this time and was able to keep from throwing up, though his stomach still did a few somersaults. He breathed the way Rein had instructed him, and the nausea passed much more quickly than it did the first time. As he straightened up, Joshua noticed the statue in the center of the hall. Being an artist, he recognized the talent behind the sculpture and was awed by it.
“Your mouth is open again. Honestly boy, you are going to catch no end of flies if you keep this up,” Micah informed him with a chuckle.
Joshua turned to him with a huge smile on his face. “I am really here, aren’t I? It is still so hard to believe.”
“You are truly here. Welcome to Thelona and the seat of the free wizards.” Micah looked at Reek. “Would you go and locate Merric, please?”
Reek nodded his ascent and bolted for the stairs.
Joshua watched the man run off in amazement. “He is Avari?”
“Aye, and so is Avar Branik.”
Joshua looked Branik up and down and whistled softly. “They grow them big on this world,” Joshua stated.
Micah motioned for Branik to step forward. “Joshua, this is Avar Branik. Avar Branik, this is my nephew, Joshua.”
Branik bowed to Joshua. “I also extend welcome to you, Joshua. Lord Micah has mentioned you many times.”
Joshua was still a little taken aback hearing his uncle addressed by title. He knew Micah held such a title, but it was quite different hearing someone address him so. It suddenly hit Joshua with staggering clarity just how old and powerful his uncle was. He'd known all his life, of course, but the reality of that revelation was mind numbing. He now saw his uncle in an entirely different light.
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