The Soul Sphere: Book 02 - The Final Shard (17 page)

“One can bring news as well as two. Would you bring one to this secret place, unknown to us, who could bring pain and suffering here by a single slip of the tongue?”

“His tongue is no more dangerous than mine.”

“That is true, I suppose. Any who leave this sanctuary could bring ruin upon us.”

Tala sighed. “If you will not allow me entrance say so now. If the hospitality of our people is this lacking, perhaps we are beyond all hope.”

“Hospitality is a gift beyond expectation in times such as these,” the guard retorted. “But it is given in such measure as it is warranted.”

They waited, unsure how to reply, and then the gates started to grind open. To Rowan, it was as if a shaft of light from another world had entered this one, and as the gates swung inward, the walls of the city became visible to him, and the hustle and bustle of the place became audible. Three stories high the walls stood, great gray stones set in a silver metal framework. The top of the wall bristled with alert, bow-equipped guards, and a silver-and-white elven standard fluttered gently in the breeze. Out of the gate another guard now came, and he escorted them swiftly inside. Once past the gate, the doors were quickly shut and barred once more.

Rowan’s eyes grew large at the sight of the elven city proper. Graceful arches and rocketing spires seemed to adorn every building. Stone, wood, and metal were all utilized with the same level of delicate craftsmanship, and but for the smaller size he deemed any of the dwellings equal to that of the greatest king or queen. Streams wound their way through the city, following their natural courses, the construction planned around them to so they could add to the environment, just as the abundant flowers and trees that bloomed within the walls did. A great fountain had been placed in the center of the city, and the main road from the gate made it plain to see, even from where the travelers stood. Huge it was, an elvish family—husband, wife, and children—of carved figures dancing about the central font, a remembrance of an earlier, carefree time.

Tala’s eyes had become as large as Rowan’s, but she had grown up in this place, and little of the architecture or city layout would have made an impression on her now. What did were the occupants, not just the elves she had spent her life with, but men, women, and children of humankind as well. She had not expected them here, especially after the comments the guard had made. Now she started to ponder his words in a different light, but she was brought out of her ruminations by the guard that had escorted them inside.

“I am sorry if your welcome seemed less than warm,” he said. “As you can see, the darkness that has beset our world has had an impact here as well.”

“Where did they come from?” Tala asked, her eyes moving to and fro, taking everything in.

“Ridonia. They tried to fight Solek for a time, but they could not stand against his power. Eventually the remnant of their people came into the forest for refuge.”

“I am surprised they were allowed inside the city.”

“As were many. I have heard the debate in the Elder Council was fierce. But the decision was made, and they were taken in. And here they remain.”

They had been making their way down the main road as they spoke, drawing little attention. Their clothes were soiled and torn from long, hard use, but that did not mark them among so many refugees. The humans were quiet and spoke to one another in hushed tones. Many were busy with menial tasks, filler for long, empty days, but some simply sat and stared blankly, feeling they were no more than wave-tossed flotsam and jetsam.

Suddenly there was some activity ahead of them—an excited voice and a parting crowd. A female elf, tall and stately in appearance, dressed in an elegant gown of blue came toward them. Her face betrayed her otherwise composed disposition, and as her eyes met Tala’s she began to weep. She ran forward and embraced Tala warmly. “I heard it was you, but I was almost afraid to believe it,” she whispered.

“It is wonderful to see you again,” Tala said. She was winning the battle to keep her own tears from falling, but just barely.

The guard excused himself as Tala introduced Rowan to her mother, Lasha.

“It is an honor,” Rowan said.

Lasha curtsied. “Welcome to our city. You are from Delving?  I recognize the colors on your uniform.”

“That’s correct.”

Lasha smiled and then turned to her daughter. “I assume you have matters of great importance to discuss with your father, both of you.”

Tala nodded and said simply, “Yes.”

“You had best speak with him alone first. He was not in favor of opening the city gates to outsiders.”

Tala sighed. “Then his heart has not softened, and my pleas will again fall on deaf ears.”

“ ‘Deaf’?” Lasha repeated. “No, never that. You father heard you before and he will hear you now. He may or may not agree with you—though you may find him more changed than you expect.”

“I hope so. He can be quite stubborn.”

“As can his only daughter.”

Tala started to rise to the comment, then checked herself. “I guess I cannot deny that, but he—”

Lasha cut her off with an upraised hand. “Go to him. Speak. He will listen, but you need to listen as well. He has led our people and our family well for a long time. And he respects you, Tala, though sometimes he will not show it. I think he deserves your respect as well. And your love.”

“He has both. Always.”

“Good. He is in council now, but he will return home soon. Freshen up, take a bit of food, and when he returns you can speak. Rowan, you are welcome also, of course.”

The wait was longer than expected, nearly two hours, but Rowan accepted it gladly, filled as it was with clean water to drink and wash with, and fruit and cheese that reminded him how long it had been since they had a meal with any flavor to it. Tala was anxious, and while she washed and drank, her food remained untouched. After a time Lasha allowed her daughter to be alone with her own thoughts, and passed the time speaking with Rowan, discussing his home and how the people of Delving fared, but avoiding asking what Tala had been doing since she had left Dol Lavaan, or what it was that they had come to speak to her husband about.

Finally they heard the door open, and for a heartbeat all was silent save the soft footsteps coming into the entryway.

“Go to him,” Lasha said to Tala.

Rowan watched her go. She moved hesitantly at first, then with conviction. She ran the last few steps and fell into his arms, and they held each other for a few lingering moments, unwilling to let words interrupt the message a simple hug could convey. Rowan moved away to the left, out of sight, and so did not see when they parted that tears had moistened both of their eyes.

Deron led his daughter into a small sitting room and took his ease, inviting her to do the same. “You are looking well,” he said.

She looked at her dirty clothes and couldn’t help laughing. “I am in good health,” she agreed. “And you?”

“Troubled in mind and spirit, but my body does not betray me, though I am getting on in years. I have no cause to complain.”

Tala fidgeted nervously. “I do not know where to begin.”

He offered a paternal smile. “At the beginning.”

So she began her tale, from her first leaving Dol Lavaan until her return. He interrupted frequently to ask questions, but whatever feelings he had he kept well hidden behind a stoic mask. She concluded by telling him that Delving readied for war, that the other kingdoms, she hoped, were doing the same, and that the help of the elves would be invaluable if Solek was to be overthrown.

“I understand,” he said as he rose. He paced about the room, staring off into nothing as the wheels of his mind turned. “Where is this Sphere now?”

She held up the bag that held it in answer.

“You brought it here!” he exclaimed with a scowl.

“This is the cloaking bag I spoke of. The Sphere cannot be detected by magic so long as it remains inside.”

“But our enemy has many spies, and most do not rely on magic. Do you not think the Dark One searches for it? If he finds it, he will send an army for it. To date, we have given him little reason to search for our city, our refuge. You may have changed that.”

“It was a necessary risk.”

“That is your opinion. It is one thing to run off and risk your own life, and wholly another to bring trouble here to your people and your home.”

“And taking in the Ridonian refugees was not a risk?”

“I did not wish to admit them.”

“Father, that was a challenge, not a question. So, you would have preferred they died under Solek’s heel?”

“No,” he said. He sighed and sat down, looking far older than even the gray hair on his temples hinted at. “Believe it or not, Tala, I wanted to help them, I just wish we could have found another way. Our city cannot long support so many, even with summer coming, and we cannot simply turn them out now. But mine has always been a voice of caution. There are many who think as you do, and I do not doubt we will march to war with the humans.”

Tala pulled back as if slapped. “Then you will support this?”

He smiled thinly. “I will not oppose it. I think it will destroy us, but I see no other viable action. You will speak to the council, and they will likely agree to go to war. The Ridonians—many of them—will do so as well.”

“The Ridonians? I guess that makes sense, especially if they are refugees. But will they leave the safety of Dol Lavaan’s walls?”

“For many of them, this city is no more than a prison.”

“I have felt the same way at times.”

“I know,” he said, laying a hand gently on her shoulder. “You did what you felt you had to do. I do not fault you for it. Actually, it is a source of quiet pride.”

Tala fumbled for words. “I do not know what you would have me say.”

“Perhaps that you have misjudged me as well. That I am not simply a stubborn male.”

“I never said that.”

Deron only smiled.

“I have never doubted your love for me or our people,” she said. “If I spoke too harshly it was out of frustration or fear. I beg your forgiveness.”

“That you do not need, as it was never withheld. But come, introduce me to your companion from Delving. Is it this Rowan you spoke of?”

“It is,” she said with surprised look, knowing Rowan had been out of sight as they spoke. “But how did you know?”

“News travels quickly, even into the Council chamber.”

Rowan was caught off guard by the kindness shown him by Deron, and as he spoke to the elven leader Tala looked abashed, ashamed perhaps of the picture she had painted of her father. He took dinner in their home and was given a bed for the night, which he accepted with genuine gratitude. As he fell away to slumber, he tried to recall the last time he had had a real bed, and wondered when, if ever, he would have one again.

*          *          *

To his surprise, Rowan found himself making ready to depart just after the noon meal the next day. The Elven Council had convened to hear Tala at daybreak, and several Ridonians were allowed to enter into the hallowed chamber, something that would have been strictly forbidden a year earlier. Because of this, Rowan was allowed in as well, and just as he marveled at the delicate grace of the mighty hall’s architecture, so too he stood in awe of Tala’s impassioned pleas that the elves forsake the seeming safety of Dol Lavaan and go to war with the rest of Arkania. What would have fallen on deaf ears months before was now cause for action, the final warning of a storm that would eventually break on these shores as well. There was a time of spirited debate, of raised voices and accusations of foolishness, but in the end it was Deron himself, with no more than a silent nod, who set the vote in motion, and the Ridonian leaders quickly followed their elven hosts in the call to arms. Rowan’s joy at the decision was tempered by the knowledge that many of these elves would be struck down in the battles to come, and that this beautiful city might soon be no more if they failed. He had thanked his hosts and saddled his horse with a heart that was swiftly growing heavy, knowing that though he did not desire it, leadership of an army would soon be his, and he would send men and women, and even some he would call children, to their deaths.