“I wouldn't presume,” Millet muttered.
Lee was waiting at the door when the carriage arrived. Millet could see the nervousness in Lee’s posture as he shifted, uncharacteristically, from side to side.
Jacob leaped from the carriage first and walked straight past his father, and into the house, without so much as a word. Millet shrugged at Lee and helped Jansi with the gear. Lee went inside and found Jacob had already taken a seat in the living room. Dina was on the couch, her eyes moving from Lee to Jacob. Lee dragged the other chair directly in front of the boy and sat down. Millet put the packs and other gear near the door and asked Jansi to wait outside.
“So you're Lee Nal’Thain,” said Jacob. “I hope you're not expecting a warm reunion.”
Lee rubbed his hands together. “I know you must not think much of me,” he began.
“I don't think about you at all... Father,” said Jacob, anger seeping into his voice. “As far as I'm concerned I have no reason to think anything... or feel anything either.”
Lee lowered his eyes. “I truly am sorry for what I had to do. But please understand, it had to be this way. I was trying to protect you and your mother.”
“Good job,” he spat. “I've been forced to leave my home, and my mother is imprisoned in Angrääl. We're so lucky you were watching out for us.”
“You may not believe this, son,” said Lee. “But if I had stayed, things would have been much worse. The Dark Knight would have what he wants, and would have no further need to keep you or your mother alive.”
“And just what does he want?” Jacob leaned back in his chair. “What is it that is more important than your family? I would really like to know.”
“I can't tell you,” Lee replied. “At least not yet. But know that it was the only thing that could force me to make such a choice. And know that you and your mother never left my thoughts... not for a minute.”
Jacob's mouth tightened. “I see. You abandon your family, start a new life, and when I ask you why, you can't tell me? I listened to my mother cry herself to sleep for years, and you can't tell me why? I watched as my home was invaded and my people murdered, and you can't tell me why?”
“I'm sorry,” said Lee. “I will tell you soon. I promise.”
“Keep your promises,” he growled. “I don't need them... or you.” He moved to get up, but Lee caught his shoulder.
“You do need me,” said Lee, sternly. “If you expect to free your mother...” Jacob tried to free himself from Lee's grasp, but Lee held him firmly. “I know that you think you can find a way to do this alone,” Lee continued. Jacob relaxed and sat back down. “But you can't. “
“And you can? Just because you have the blood of Saraf coursing through your veins, you think you can take on the armies of Angrääl by yourself? At least I did not inherit your stupidity.”
“You have a plan, then?” Lee asked.
Jacob hesitated. “No. But, I'm forming one. I have friends in the city, and I've already contacted some of them.”
“Then you've almost certainly let the agents of Angrääl know you plan to save your mother,” said Lee. “They have eyes and ears everywhere in Baltria. Even among the nobility.”
“Then what do you think you can do?” asked Jacob.
“First I can keep you safe. I want to you go with Millet to the oasis of Dantary.”
This time Lee was unable to stop Jacob from rising. “You don't tell me what to do,” Jacob boomed. “I'll not be shipped off to the desert.”
Lee heaved a sigh. “I need to know that you're safe if I'm to save your mother. As long as you're in danger, I can't do what must be done. I must protect you first, so I can focus on my task.”
“It's too late to start trying to protect me,” said Jacob. “And forgive me if I don't trust that you'll follow through with anything you say. No. I think I'll do things my own way.”
“Listen to me,” said Lee. His tone was dark and intimidating. “If you ever want to see your mother alive, you'll forget your hatred for me and do as I tell you.”
Jacob opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.
“If I may, my lord,” interjected Millet. Lee nodded his approval. “Jacob, let me take you to Dantary. I promise that I will reveal everything once we get there. I have been with your father through it all. There is nothing he could tell you that I don't already know.”
“And if I fail,” Lee added. “Then you are free to do as you will.”
Jacob glared at Lee, then at Millet. “I'll do as you ask. But know that if you fail, I will kill you.”
“If I fail,” Lee replied. “I will be dead already.” He held out his hand, but Jacob turned his back.
“I need to check my gear,” Jacob said, and walked toward the front door.
Millet placed his hand on Lee's shoulder. “I'll watch over him. I swear it.”
Lee bowed his head. “I don't blame him for hating me. I hate myself for leaving him.”
“You did what you had to do,” said Millet. “You did not choose this.”
Lee pretended not to hear. “Do you have mounts?” he asked.
“No, my lord,” Millet replied. “We sold them.”
Lee reached in his pouch, retrieved several gold coins, and handed them to Millet. “Have Jansi purchase horses and saddles for you and Jacob.” He began to walk toward his room. “We leave as soon as he returns.”
Chapter Nineteen
Maybell inconspicuously readied their gear for a quick getaway. They would be in Farmington in less than an hour and she did her best to remain calm. She had spoken to Malstisos several times about the exact route and timetable, but still, she knew how dangerous the elves could be. One mistake could cost both of them their lives. Malstisos was scouting the surrounding area with Grentos and Vadnaltis. Maybell feared that the elves would suspect that they were on to them, but so far they had shown no indication of it.
She rode in the wagon with the family of a silver merchant from Althetas. Both her and Malstisos' horses had been tied to the rear. She passed the time by playing a card game with Lilly, the merchant’s wife and their two children, Anna, who was six years old and Beth, who had just turned eight.
They were among her favorite people in the caravan. Lilly was kind and cheerful, and in spite of a life of travel and raising two children, was always well groomed. Maybell enjoyed spending time in their tent when they camped. Lilly kept it much like a home. She even took the time to display personal keepsakes.
“It makes me not miss Althetas as much,” Lilly had explained. “And the children are reminded that there is a home waiting for them.”
Her husband Gaylan, though not as cheerful as Lilly, was a good and decent man. Tall and thin, with narrow eyes and wind-burned skin, he was not particularly handsome, yet Maybell could see why Lilly, who was very fetching, loved him dearly. He always did his best to make his family comfortable. Though well off, he was not rich, but still he provided the best that money could buy when it came to comforts. They had goose down mattresses and cotton sheets to sleep on, though he admitted that they were a burden to carry along, and their clothes were of the finest quality. When it was time for meals, Gaylan wouldn't touch a bite until Lilly sat down to join him. Clearly, he loved her very much.
Before long, Malstisos returned and joined her in the wagon. The children cheered with glee when they saw him. They loved the elf and couldn't get enough of touching his ears. One of the favorite activities of the children in the caravan, had become listening to Malstisos tell stories at night. In fact, on the nights when there were no stories you could hear the wail of crying children throughout the camp.
“Will you join us, master elf?” asked Lilly. “I am afraid Anna keeps getting the best cards.”
Malstisos smiled. “No. I'm afraid I cannot. We will be stopping in a matter of minutes, and Maybell and I must venture into town to resupply.”
“Nonsense,” said Lilly. “My husband is going into town. He can pick up whatever yo
u need.”
“I’m afraid I must go myself,” said Malstisos. “I often don't know what I need until I see it.”
“Yes,” said Maybell. “And there is a matter I must attend to personally.”
Lilly frowned. “Very well. But you must join us tonight for supper.”
Maybell reached over and hugged the woman then the children in turn. “If we are back in time, we will.” She hated misleading them.
Soon the caravan halted and began to make camp. After setting up their tents, Maybell and Malstisos detached their horses from the wagon and headed in the direction of Farmington. They hadn't traveled half of a mile when they heard a voice call from behind them.
“Wait” It was Grentos. Vadnaltis was just behind. Both carried their long knives at their side, and Vadnaltis had a bow slung across his back.
“I was afraid we'd miss you,” said Grentos.
“I wasn't aware you intended to go to town,” said Malstisos, trying not to sound alarmed.
“We noticed you were leaving and thought we'd keep you company,” said Grentos.
“I thank you,” said Maybell. “But our day will be tedious and long. I would not want you to waste your time on such trivialities.”
“You are kind,” said Grentos. “But we don't mind... do we?” Vadnaltis was expressionless. His eyes were fixed on the road ahead. “You carry a bow, I see,” Malstisos remarked.
“Yes,” Grentos replied. “We thought we'd do a bit of hunting, later. I'd ask you to join us but as you have no bow... ”
“That's quite alright,” said Malstisos. “The game here is small and sparse. And I have no need for food or clothing, and such a hunt requires great skill.”
Maybell noticed a sudden change in the elves’ walk and movements.
“I see,” muttered Grentos. “Then we were correct.”
“About what?” asked Maybell.
“We had suspected you had found us out, Malstisos,” Grentos continued. “But we couldn't be certain. Seekers are not as adept at reading people as an elf such as you. Luckily, those dull humans believe whatever they are told.”
“What is your intent?” asked Malstisos. If he were afraid, it did not show.
“That has been a thing much debated between Vadnaltis and me,” Grentos replied. “I would not have you escape to the temples.” He glanced over at Maybell. “I can only assume that is what you were planning. Nor can I simply kill you. That would not sit well with Vadnaltis.”
“What's your solution?” asked Malstisos.
“You will face my challenge,” Grentos answered, sounding pleased with himself. Malstisos reigned in his horse. “You cannot be serious.”
Grentos backed away a few steps. “I am. Do you accept?”
Malstisos slid from the saddle but made no move to draw his weapon. “You have no right to do this.”
“Don't I?” scoffed Grentos. “I think I have every right to call out a traitor.”
“What's going on here?” Maybell demanded. “What challenge?”
“If I were a seeker and broke their code, or had refused judgment of the elders,” Malstisos explained. “Grentos would have the right to challenge me to single combat. But as neither is the case, he has decided to take matters into his own hands.”
Vadnaltis placed his hand on Grentos' shoulder. “He is right, brother. You cannot do this. Call him to face judgment instead. You have that right.”
“He will not honor it,” Grentos countered. “He's just like the rest of our kin who have taken up with the humans.”
“Perhaps,” said Vadnaltis. “But then he shows his dishonor, and can be put to death. As it is, you have no authority. The elders have not given any such edict, and our laws forbid it.”
“We have already been through this,” Grentos let out with frustration. “The elders already ordered the death of a traitor without judgment. What is the difference?”
“They were wrong to do so,” said Vadnaltis. “And the difference is, we are from the steppes, and we hold to the laws that have guided our people for thousands of years. Would you behave as the rebels, and throw away the laws because they are inconvenient?”
Grentos shook off Vadnaltis' hand and turned his back. “We've been over this. I will not be swayed.”
“And if Malstisos refuses the challenge?” he asked. “What then?”
“Then not only will he die,” Grentos replied darkly. “But his human pet will die with him. As it stands, I'm willing to let her go in peace.”
Sadness washed over Vadnaltis' face. “I will ask you, one more time, to reconsider.”
“I will not,” Grentos replied, sternly. He spun around to face Malstisos. “Do you accept or not?”
Malstisos opened his mouth to answer, but Vadnaltis stepped in front of him.
“I challenge you, brother,” said Vadnaltis. His eyes were full of tears. “Do you accept?”
“What is this?” Grentos cried. “You cannot do this.”
“I ask again,” he pressed. “Do you accept?”
“I...” Grentos stammered. “I... I do.”
The two elves stepped away from the horses and took opposite positions on the road. Maybell moved close to Malstisos and grabbed his arm. “What is going on?” she whispered.
Malstisos bowed his head. “A tragedy,” he said. “And an act of pure honor.”
The two elves put down their bows and quivers, and each drew their long knives. “Why?” asked Grentos. “Why do you do this?”
“Because I love you too much to see you live in dishonor,” he replied. “Should you strike me down, it is unlikely you will be able to defeat Malstisos after, even if he is not a seeker. And as you well know, the challenge made cannot be withdrawn.”
“Then I hope I die by your hand, brother.” Grentos charged.
Vadnaltis stepped aside, narrowly avoiding Grentos' initial onslaught. Time and again they traded blows, each unable to gain advantage over the other.
Eventually, it was Grentos that drew first blood, as his blade cut deep into Vadnaltis' left thigh. Blood soaked the elf's leather trousers as it poured from the wound. Any human would have collapsed in agony, but Vadnaltis showed no signs of weakening. He spun around and brought his blade across the right shoulder of Grentos. Grentos staggered forward but quickly regained his balance. Both elves stepped back for a moment, blood dripping from their blades.
Grentos felt the wound on his shoulder and smiled sorrowfully. Tears streamed down the face of Vadnaltis.
“Deep enough,” said Grentos looking at the blood on his hand. “You have killed me. I beg you... finish it.” He dropped his weapon and fell to his knees.
Vadnaltis slowly walked over to his comrade and stood in front of him. “I will join you soon enough, brother.” He placed his hand on top of Grentos' head and muttered a prayer. “I send you to the Creator.” With that, he plunged the knife through Grentos' heart. The elf gasped, then fell to the ground.
Maybell was weeping uncontrollably. Her thoughts went to the death of Berathis.
Vadnaltis pulled his knife free and cleaned it on his shirt. “Malstisos of the Finsoulos Clan.” he said without looking up, “I call you to judgment for crimes against our people.”
Malstisos took a step forward but did not approach Vadnaltis. “I am bound to see this woman to safety,” he replied. “But upon the fulfillment of that duty, I will face judgment.”
“Then go in peace,” he said. “I would perform the rites alone.”
Malstisos bowed low and motioned for Maybell to mount her horse. They urged their mounts on in the direction of town in silence. Once they were a few hundred yards away, Malstisos began to weep. Maybell rode in silence, tears stinging her eyes. They halted just before they got to town.
“I know you don't understand what just happened,” said Malstisos, softly.
“I think I do,” Maybell replied. “At least part of it. What I don't understand is why Grentos allowed himself to be killed.”
“
He was dead either way,” answered Malstisos. “The fight would have continued for some time, and Grentos was losing blood. Even if he were victorious, he would have been so weak that he could not have challenged me successfully. He chose to die by his brother’s hand, instead.”
“Seekers and their ways are beyond my understanding,” said Maybell. “I could never kill a sister... even that devil Salmitaya.”
“Yes,” said Malstisos. “But they were more than just seekers. They were brothers.” “You don't mean...” she gasped.
Malstisos nodded slowly. “I do. They were brothers by birth.”
“How do you know?” She reeled at the thought.
“He is performing the burial rites alone,” he replied. “That is only done under two circumstances. If there are no others to help... or if it is blood kin, killed by your own hand.”
“Monstrous,” Maybell cried. “And you intend to let such people judge you?”
“They are my people!” he yelled, causing Maybell to recoil. He took a breath and calmed himself. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't expect you to understand. Forgive me.”
“There is nothing to forgive,” she assured. “It's just... I can't...”
“I don't expect you to understand all of our ways,” he said. “But know that I am not afraid to face judgment. In fact, after today, I welcome it. I am tired of the division within my people. Perhaps this is the only way that we can heal.” He urged his horse forward.
They spent the rest of the day in utter silence. Maybell picked up a few supplies, but was in no mood to linger. The only thing she wanted to do was get back to her tent and sleep. On the trip home she could smell the funeral pyre, somewhere in the forest, and she began to weep once again.
Vadnaltis did not return to the camp, not that Maybell or Malstisos expected him to. When asked, they said that the two went off hunting, but when they didn't turn up the next day a search party went to look for them. After a time, it became clear that they were gone, and the camp divided their belongings, and gave Malstisos a purse with coin matching the value of the gear and possessions. Malstisos promised to give it to them should he see them again.
The Godling Chronicles 02 - Of Gods And Elves Page 17
