“Still, it might be worth the attempt,” Malstisos argued. “He is not as stubborn as the other Elders. He may listen to reason.”
“He will not,” Kaylia said firmly. Her tone was full of hate and anger. “My people could not have been sent to kill me without his consent. You would be better off if you told him you had murdered me yourself.”
“I think you underestimate him,” Malstisos said, his voice softening. “But as you wish; I will press you no more.”
Kaylia got up and stood by the fireplace.
“In any case, we have further matters to discuss,” Broin said.
“There are rumors that the dead walk the earth. At first I thought them nothing more than nonsense, but now I’m not so sure.”
“They’re not nonsense,” said Lee. He told Broin what had happened with the baker’s wife in Sharpstone, though he left out the name of the town.
“How is such a thing possible?” Broin asked, horrified.
“When the Dark Knight locked the door to Heaven, he trapped the souls of the living on Earth,” Lee explained. “As his power has grown, there have been certain…side effects. I believe it may be a result of his growing power. Whatever the case, it’s effective in spreading fear, and that’s his greatest weapon.”
Broin took a deep breath and sighed. “Be straightforward with me,” he said. Lee could hear the desperation in his voice. “Is there a way to fight him?”
“Yes,” Lee answered with conviction. “He is not all powerful-at least, not yet. Keep doing what you’re already doing for now. Before it’s over, we will need allies anywhere we can find them. It may not come to all out war, but if it does, we’ll need to be united and ready. My friends and I are journeying to a place that may reveal a way to end this without bloodshed, but there is no guarantee of success.”
“Then we will aid you in any way you wish,” Broin said with resolve. “Simply tell me what it is you need.”
“There is only one thing I would ask,” Lee replied. “It is a personal request, but one of great importance to me.”
“Ask,” Broin invited. “I will help if I can.”
“There are people dear to me in Hazrah,” he said. “I cannot abandon the things I must do, so I will send my friend and companion in my stead.”
Millet’s eyes went wide. “You don’t mean to send me away!” he cried.
“Please,” Lee begged. “You must see my wife and child safely away from Hazrah. I can trust no one else, and they will believe you when they see you.”
Millet nodded his head and put his hand on Lee’s shoulder. “I will do everything in my power to make sure nothing happens to them.”
Lee turned to Broin. “I would not have him go alone, so I ask that you send someone to help him as he needs. I can pay all of the expenses, and whoever goes will be well rewarded.”
“I will go,” Malstisos volunteered. “But do not insult me with promise of reward. You are a friend to my kin, and that is enough.” He smiled at Millet. “We leave when you are ready.”
“Thank you,” said Lee. “I hope one day to return the favor. Now, if you all don’t mind, we’ve had a long journey, and I’m sure my companions are longing to spend some time in a warm bed.”
“I agree,” said Broin. “We can talk more tomorrow.”
They all stood up from their chairs and bid one another goodnight.
Gewey went straight to bed, while Millet and Lee discussed the rescue of Lee’s family. Kaylia stopped in to give Gewey his nightly dose of jawas tea, a routine he had come to look forward to.
“She certainly does take good care of you,” Millet observed. “A thing not to be taken for granted.”
Normally such teasing would have embarrassed Gewey, but tonight he just smiled and let the jawas take him away.
Chapter 22
Gewey was the first to rise the next day. He got dressed and wandered downstairs, following the smell of sausage. Angus was setting up the table when he spotted him at the door.
“Please sit,” Angus urged him, pulling out a chair. “It’s good to see an early riser around here.”
Gewey thought about waiting for the others, but dismissed the thought when Angus placed a plate filled with sausage, eggs and fresh biscuits in front of him. To top it off, there was even fresh orange juice. In Sharpstone, orange juice was rare; the only times he’d had it before were when his father had taken him to visit Lee as a child.
The sun was shining through the windows and Gewey could hear the bustle of a new day beginning outside.
“It’s been some time since the sun has broken through,” Angus observed, pleased.
“Let’s take it for a good omen,” Broin said as he strode into the room.
Gewey felt embarrassed for not waiting to eat, but Broin didn’t seem to mind. In fact, Angus brought him a plate and some juice and he immediately started in himself.
“You said very little last night, my young friend,” Broin noted. “What are your thoughts on what goes on in the world?”
Gewey had to wash down a mouthful of sausage before answering. “Honestly, it’s hard to make heads or tails of it. Compared to what I’m used to, things have been moving very fast.”
Lord Broin nodded with understanding. “Yes, indeed. Things feel out of control, even for those of us who are more accustomed to dealing with the fast pace of the world. But I’m curious, how did you end up involved in all this to begin with?”
Gewey was unsure how to answer. Broin could see his unease and waved his hand.
“Forget I asked,” he said. “Let’s talk about your companions instead. I’ve noticed you seem quite comfortable traveling with elves. Have you always been so accepting?”
“I think the elves are a wonderful people,” Gewey replied earnestly. “After being around them, it’s hard to imagine why they aren’t welcome among us. They may be terrible and dangerous when they want to be, but they are also wise and full of joy. I’ve never seen anyone who loves his brother so selflessly, or defends his honor so passionately. Of course, my experience is limited to the few I’ve met.”
“You are wise beyond your years,” Broin told him. “Now if you would allow me, I would give you something.”
“Please,” Gewey protested. “Your hospitality is more than enough.”
“But I insist,” he said, leaving the table. A few minutes later, he returned carrying a long sword sheathed in a black leather scabbard. There were symbols running down the length of the scabbard in silver inlay, and to Gewey’s eye, it appeared to be the same type of ancient writing that decorated Lee’s box. Broin attached the scabbard to a studded leather belt, and then handed it to Gewey. “This sword was given to me by the King of Gol’Giatha, for saving the life of his son when I was a young man. I want you to have it.”
Gewey stared at the weapon, stunned. “This is too much. I can’t possibly accept this.”
“You can, and you will,” Broin said sternly. “Whatever quest your friends are on, I would have to be a blind fool not to realize you are a big part of it. If I wanted to guess, I would say you’re probably the most important part.”
“Why would you say that?” Gewey asked nervously.
“You’re not a servant,” he replied. “You’re not a warrior. And your friends take special care when anything to do with you comes up.” He leaned back in his chair, evaluating Gewey. “You’re young-too young to be on such a dangerous journey by all accounts, and yet you carry yourself as a man ten years your senior. Whatever your reason for being here, I would have you as well protected as I can make you. That sword will never break nor dull, and it has never been drawn from its scabbard; once drawn, only the person who drew it will be able to wield it, and no other. More than that, I do not know, but it is certainly a special weapon. Besides, I’ve always used the sword passed down to me by my father; I have no use for another.”
