thought bitterly of the sacred sword that had betrayed him in a similar fashion to the way he had betrayed it. “Justice,” he tried to say as the thick blanket of sleep fell overhim, but the words never came out.
Time passed as Kaerion drifted in and out of consciousness-though how much time was difficult to determine. He sensed ratherthan felt the wagon’s movement, for the weakness and disembodiment he had feltearlier stayed with him. Once, he thought he heard the sound of rushing water, but it soon became difficult to tell, as the world around him swam in and out of focus, ending finally in familiar darkness.
He was surprised to notice the regular attendance of nearly every one of his companions. Even Bredeth came to sit with him. The young noble regaled him with his thoughts and hopes for the glorious battles and heroic deeds they would undertake on this journey, and though his visits tired Kaerion, he found himself oddly touched by the normally brusque noble’s concern. OnlyVaxor was conspicuous in his absence.
Thoughts of the Heironean priest only served to bring his true situation into complete focus. Surely the arch priest would understand the significance of the sword, and if he hadn’t condemned him to the others yet, hehad certainly passed judgment himself. Once his companions learned the true nature of his cowardice, he would be lucky if any of them would even speak to him again. For some reason, this caused Kaerion more sadness than he expected, and he lay there shaking with weakness and anticipated dread.
Kaerion awoke one morning to daylight streaming in through the now-open end of his wagon. A warm breeze blew softly through the space, carrying the perfumed scent of flower buds and grass.
“There he is,” a voice said from somewhere near the opening,and Kaerion recognized Gerwyth’s mocking tone instantly. “Glad to see you’refinally awake long enough to appreciate the weather,” he said, climbing into thewagon and taking a seat next to Kaerion’s bed. “Care to stop lazing about andfinally earn your keep?”
Kaerion smiled and looked up at his friend. A thousand retorts came to mind, but the parched desert of his mouth would not let any of these clever barbs escape. His struggles must have been easily noticed, for the elf chuckled once and then produced a skin of water, which he held gently to Kaerion’s mouth.
He drank greedily, letting the cold liquid linger in his mouth before swallowing it. He took several long draughts, surprised at the depth of his own need. Gerwyth let out another laugh and pulled back the skin all too soon.
“Easy, Kaer,” the ranger said, all trace of his formermockery gone. “Phathas says you must not drink too much too soon.”
Kaerion nodded and drew his hand across the cracked and dried tissue of his lips. “H-how long have I been sick?” he asked after a moment, hisvoice gruff and harsh from disuse.
“For some time,” the elf responded. “It is currently thethird day of Coldeven. You gave us all quite a scare.”
Kaerion stared at his friend in shock. Six weeks. He’d beenbedridden and sick for six weeks. No wonder the warm weather felt alien. It should still have been the end of winter, and here it was well into spring.
“How far have we traveled?” he asked.
Gerwyth looked at his friend for just a moment, and Kaerion could see the concern in his friend’s eyes. “We traveled across the confluenceof the Harp and Lyre rivers, turned south to skirt the Bonewood forest and made our way into the Rieuwood. We are currently about a week or so away from the southern border of the forest and Sunndi.”
So much time lost, so much of their journey completed, and he had spent it lying on his back like an infirm old man.
“Kaerion,” Gerwyth asked, interrupting his bitter thoughts,“what happened out there?”
Kaerion shook his head. “I don’t know. One moment I washaving a conversation with Majandra, and the next Galadorn burst into life.” Hisvoice became a whisper. “It hasn’t done that since… since Dorakaa.” Kaeriongroaned and tried to roll over, the surprise at being able to feel his body overshadowed by his current situation. “Now that they’ve seen Galadorn, everyonemust already know exactly what I am.”
“And what are you?” Gerwyth asked.
“I am a traitor, a coward, and a betrayer. I was once belovedof a god, Ger, a commander of legions, and a hero right out of a bard’s tale. Ithrew it all away. Turned my back on the god I served. I am nothing.”
“You are my friend,” Gerwyth replied, grabbing Kaerion’sshoulder with startling intensity. “You are brave and strong and noble in everyway that truly counts, and I would gladly lay down my life for yours.”
Kaerion lay there, stunned by the deep sincerity present in the ranger’s words and expression. Through ten years’ worth of travel, he hadrarely seen this side of the normally quixotic and carefree elf.
“That means more to me than you know, Ger,” Kaerion said,“but now that the rest of them have discovered my secret, they will have to turntheir backs on me. It is the Church of Heironeous that sponsors this expedition. Surely you see that.”
“The rest of our companions have not discovered your‘secret’, Kaer,” Gerwyth replied. “They have seen a sword, nothing more.”
“But they must suspect something, and Vaxor-”
“Suspicions are like goblins, or at least that’s what mymother always told me,” interrupted Gerwyth. “They breed almost everywhere, butfall to a single arrow easily enough. And do not trouble yourself about Vaxor.”
“The significance of Galadorn can’t be lost upon him,”Kaerion said. “He must know, and I’m sure that he will tell the others.”
“The priest has said nothing to the others,” the elf said,“and if he does, it will be your opportunity to confront the very thing you havebeen running from. That will be the true measure of your courage.”
Kaerion nodded. “Perhaps you’re right, Ger. Though what willthe others think of me? I’ve grown used to the rudeness of strangers, but not-”
“Those you care about,” Gerwyth finished. “Is it really theothers you care about? Or perhaps it’s the regard of a certain fiery-haired bardthat you’re really concerned with.”
Kaerion shifted uncomfortably in his bedding, feeling a hot flush blossoming on his face. He ran pale fingers though his tangled and sweat-crusted hair, hoping the movement would mask the red tinge he was sure marked his cheeks and neck. “Wh-what are you talking about, Ger?” he stammered.
The elf smiled, obviously enjoying his friend’s discomfort.“Come on, Kaer,” Gerwyth said, “I can track a brownie across rock-strewnfoothills. Surely I can see the obvious attraction between a man and a woman.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kaerion said inclipped tones. “There is nothing between Majandra and I.”
“And I’m a priestess of Lolth,” Gerwyth replied. “Gods, Kaer,I have eyes. I can see it clearly. You two care for each other-though whyMajandra would be interested in a brutish lout like you I’ll never know.”
Kaerion grabbed for the waterskin and took several more long swallows, ignoring the elf. When he was finished, he tossed the skin to the side. “Just leave it alone, Ger,” Kaerion said tersely. “Nothing is going tohappen between Majandra and I-especially not now.”
Gerwyth shook his head. “But why, Kaer? You’ve never taken anoath of celibacy. Just tell her how you feel. You must know she cares about you. Besides, if you get your feelings out in the open, you two can stop mooning over each other like a couple of lovesick-”
Kaerion tossed back his blankets in frustration. “Just…leave it be, Ger,” he said between clenched teeth.
The elf looked as if he would say more, but suddenly threw up his hands and stood. “Now I know you’re on the mend,” he said.
“Why’s that?” Kaerion asked, still somewhat sullen.
“Because you’re getting more stubborn and pig-headed everyday,” the elf replied. “Pretty soon you’ll be back to the mulish, dull-wittedhuman I’ve come to know so well.”
His friend’s words brought a ghost of a smile to Kaerion’sface. “And don’t you forget it either,” he said after a moment. “Now go-” hewaved an imperious hand at the elf-“and let me enjoy this beautiful morning inpeace.”
“As you command,” Gerwyth said, offering a mock bow that madeKaerion laugh. “But tomorrow you and I are going for a walk. Phathas says thatyou should be up and about more often, regaining your strength. Once we’re outof the Rieuwood, it’s a short journey to the borders of the Vast Swamp. I’mgoing to need the strength of your sword arm and whatever wits have managed to survive in your head if we’re going to make it to the tomb safely.”
Kaerion watched the elf as he stepped nimbly out of the wagon and into the bright spring day. The smile that
