Read Online Fallen Embers (The Alterra Histories) by C. S. Marks - Free Book Online
Authors: C. S. Marks
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one shoulder, looking into the face of his tormentor. Though he knew he had no right to ask the question, he asked it anyway.
“Shandor…you were once my friend. We were friends . How could you have taken the last of my hope?”
He slumped forward, completely exhausted, too weary even to weep. But then he thought of Gaelen, and the tears came just the same.
III
After she had returned home, Gaelen went about her business in the Greatwood, telling no one of her betrothal, trying to sort out her own feelings and to appear as though nothing had changed. This was a challenge, as the events that had transpired in the lands to the south of Mountain-home had forever altered the course of her life. Nothing that had occurred in her relatively short span of years could compare with it, and little that her future held would rival it.
Her father, Tarfion, suspected that an event of some significance had occurred, but she would not speak of it. He knew that Gloranel had also sensed the change in their only daughter.
“She has not been the same since returning from Mountain-home. You were there—did you not watch over her? Do you not know what happened? It is as though she is keeping back a great secret. She has aged…actually, she has matured . Can you not enlighten me?”
“If I knew anything, I would tell you,” said Tarfion. “She managed to avoid me almost the entire time we were in Mountain-home, which certainly made me wonder. But you’re right—she has matured. Our Gaelen would never been inclined to keep any ‘great secret,’ especially from you.”
“Did you not watch over her? How is it that you left her alone and let her avoid you? A lot goes on in Mountain-home…who knows what sort of influences she was exposed to?”
“I was watching over King Osgar, remember?” said Tarfion. “I had a job to do.”
Gloranel’s smooth brow furrowed beneath the soft wisps of auburn hair that strayed before it. “She sings for no reason. Her mind is a thousand miles away. She pretends nothing is going on, but I believe everything is going on.”
“Well, have you asked her yourself?”
“You know I have. Naturally, she denies everything.”
“You know her well enough that we’ll get nothing out of her, then.”
“I heard you and Tarmagil discussing Gaelen and the High King. You told of the banner, and that she went off riding with him…alone.”
“Yes, and I heard the rumors flying all over Mountain-home. But surely the King would not have let her go…”
Gloranel’s eyes narrowed. “ What rumors?”
Tarfion’s face paled a little. There was nothing to do but tell her. “There were rumors of…of a Perception.”
“A Perception ? You cannot mean between Gaelen and the High King, surely!” Gloranel shook her head. “Although that would certainly explain the change in her.” She shook her head again. “Surely not…most unlikely. He is thousands of years old, and she has barely flowered. Gaelen and Ri-Elathan? Surely not . I don’t want to think of this anymore today.”
But, of course, Gloranel did think of it—in fact, she thought of little else. A union between a common Wood-elf and the High-elven King? A common Wood-elf barely into her maidenhood…whose entire life lay before her? Gloranel loved her daughter, and she had dreamed of the day that Gaelen would perceive a life-mate and gift her with grandchildren, but to have her entangled with such a warrior-king as Ri-Elathan? Though neither she nor Tarfion believed in even the remotest possibility of Perception between Gaelen and the King, Gloranel was apprehensive and filled with doubt as she considered the potential loss of her only daughter to one destined for such hardship and peril.
Everyone in the Greatwood knew why the King had gone to Mountain-home, and Gloranel had resigned herself to the fact that Tarfion and his brothers would soon be going to war, but now she had another reason to worry. The line of the High Kings had not
“Shandor…you were once my friend. We were friends . How could you have taken the last of my hope?”
He slumped forward, completely exhausted, too weary even to weep. But then he thought of Gaelen, and the tears came just the same.
III
After she had returned home, Gaelen went about her business in the Greatwood, telling no one of her betrothal, trying to sort out her own feelings and to appear as though nothing had changed. This was a challenge, as the events that had transpired in the lands to the south of Mountain-home had forever altered the course of her life. Nothing that had occurred in her relatively short span of years could compare with it, and little that her future held would rival it.
Her father, Tarfion, suspected that an event of some significance had occurred, but she would not speak of it. He knew that Gloranel had also sensed the change in their only daughter.
“She has not been the same since returning from Mountain-home. You were there—did you not watch over her? Do you not know what happened? It is as though she is keeping back a great secret. She has aged…actually, she has matured . Can you not enlighten me?”
“If I knew anything, I would tell you,” said Tarfion. “She managed to avoid me almost the entire time we were in Mountain-home, which certainly made me wonder. But you’re right—she has matured. Our Gaelen would never been inclined to keep any ‘great secret,’ especially from you.”
“Did you not watch over her? How is it that you left her alone and let her avoid you? A lot goes on in Mountain-home…who knows what sort of influences she was exposed to?”
“I was watching over King Osgar, remember?” said Tarfion. “I had a job to do.”
Gloranel’s smooth brow furrowed beneath the soft wisps of auburn hair that strayed before it. “She sings for no reason. Her mind is a thousand miles away. She pretends nothing is going on, but I believe everything is going on.”
“Well, have you asked her yourself?”
“You know I have. Naturally, she denies everything.”
“You know her well enough that we’ll get nothing out of her, then.”
“I heard you and Tarmagil discussing Gaelen and the High King. You told of the banner, and that she went off riding with him…alone.”
“Yes, and I heard the rumors flying all over Mountain-home. But surely the King would not have let her go…”
Gloranel’s eyes narrowed. “ What rumors?”
Tarfion’s face paled a little. There was nothing to do but tell her. “There were rumors of…of a Perception.”
“A Perception ? You cannot mean between Gaelen and the High King, surely!” Gloranel shook her head. “Although that would certainly explain the change in her.” She shook her head again. “Surely not…most unlikely. He is thousands of years old, and she has barely flowered. Gaelen and Ri-Elathan? Surely not . I don’t want to think of this anymore today.”
But, of course, Gloranel did think of it—in fact, she thought of little else. A union between a common Wood-elf and the High-elven King? A common Wood-elf barely into her maidenhood…whose entire life lay before her? Gloranel loved her daughter, and she had dreamed of the day that Gaelen would perceive a life-mate and gift her with grandchildren, but to have her entangled with such a warrior-king as Ri-Elathan? Though neither she nor Tarfion believed in even the remotest possibility of Perception between Gaelen and the King, Gloranel was apprehensive and filled with doubt as she considered the potential loss of her only daughter to one destined for such hardship and peril.
Everyone in the Greatwood knew why the King had gone to Mountain-home, and Gloranel had resigned herself to the fact that Tarfion and his brothers would soon be going to war, but now she had another reason to worry. The line of the High Kings had not
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