For Aedan, however, it had never been as easy as it was for the others.
While he had made many new acquaintances, he had not really found any close friends. Part of this was due to his natural reticence in conversation. He could not hold court the way Vaesil did, and had always felt awkward around girls, especially attractive ones. Aside from that, he was Lord Tieran’s son, and while most girls had no big reservations about flirting with young viscounts or baronets, they always took a different attitude when they found out who Aedan was.
Even with the other young nobles, Aedan was always aware of a certain forced deference in their manner.
It took a while before he realized the reason for it.
As the future royal chamberlain and the young prince’s friend and confidant, he was practically a member of the royal family as far as they were concerned. No one ever took issue with him over anything, except perhaps only in the mildest way, and he soon understood it was because of who he was and his position. He could never be sure if they would tell him what they really thought. Still, he didn’t mind that so much. He had enjoyed the company of the group and found their discussions very stimulating. He felt a certain daring recklessness in associating with them.
Now, just a few months later, it struck him he had not previously even had the barest inkling of what true recklessness could be. Laera had certainly taught him that. He doubted he would ever again feel quite so intimidated by a pretty face or shapely waist. And the recklessness he had displayed in going after Michael had been unforgivable.
Ordinarily, they went out hawking with a party of armed men from the house guard, even when they stayed relatively close to Seaharrow. Not only had he neglected to assemble such a party, which was what he should have been doing instead of rolling in the hay with Laera, but he had allowed the impatient prince to go off on his own and then compounded his offense by going after him alone, forgetting his sword in the stables. Not that it would have done him a great deal of good, he realized. Still, if he had immediately assembled an armed party and then gone after Michael, there was a chance that none of this might have happened.
Had he simply been so distracted by what occurred with Laera that he wasn’t thinking, or was he too concerned about the questions that would have been raised, such as why he had allowed the prince to ride off by himself in the first place, and what had he been doing? Either way, he had acted stupidly, and even the risks involved in his affair with Laera seemed like nothing now compared to what they had gone through.
And there was still no way of knowing how it would turn out.
Although Gylvain and his elves had rescued them from the goblins and did not seem to mean them harm, now they were going to Tuarhievel, in the northern-most section of the Aelvinnwode, even farther from Seaharrow than Thurazor. And though Gylvain seemed favorably disposed toward them, once they reached Tuarhievel, it would be Fhileraene who would decide what to do with them.
If Haelyn had truly ascended and become a god at Deismaar, Aedan hoped he was watching over them.
But if the Fatalists were right, he and Michael were completely on their own. However, as the saying went, there were no atheists in a melee, and while the goblins had them, Aedan had discovered that when his own life was at stake, he could become as devout as the Patriarch, himself.
In the comfortable safety of a tavern, it was one thing to question faith and argue the virtues of self-reliance. In the Aelvinnwode, it was another thing entirely, and now Aedan found himself fervently hoping he could rely on a greater power than himself.
Gylvain had left them for a few moments to confer with the other elves, who had finished stripping the bodies of the goblins they had slain.
Michael watched with interest. He had never seen elves before.
Neither, for that matter, had Aedan. They were certainly getting more than their share of new experiences.
They were dressed unlike the wizard. Gylvain wore a voluminous, ankle-length, dark cloak, with several unusual-looking amulets hanging on silver chains over an indigo-blue tunic, which was belted at the waist with a wide, black leather belt studded with silver ornaments.
He had on black hose and short, ankle-high, black shoes made from leather with the rough side out. The other elves, like Gylvain, all wore their hair extremely long, but they were dressed in green and brown, with roughout leather doublets and short cloaks. They all wore soft, roughout leather knee-high boots fastened with crisscrossing rawhide thongs and fringed at the tops. It was perfect dress for woodsmen, Aedan thought. They would blend in easily with the forest all around them.
Aedan closed his eyes and concentrated, drawing on his blood ability of healing to restore himself.
There had been no time before, and
