Brian Anderson - The Sword of Truth

“Leave the boy alone,” the innkeeper scolded as he brought their wine. “He’s a guest of Lord Ganflin. I don’t think he would appreciate you embarrassing the boy.”

Zina laughed. “I was only trying to make him feel welcome. But being that you’re an honored guest of Lord Ganflin, I think I need to try harder.”

Kaylia seethed and leaned forward. “What do you know of elven courtship, Lady Fritzina?” she asked, forcing a smile.

“Nothing, I’m afraid. But I’m eager to learn. Please tell me.”

“It can be perilous at best,” Kaylia said darkly. “When a man declares himself as a suitor, the woman takes the responsibility to guard him from potential rivals-sometimes with deadly consequence.”

“Has someone made such a declaration to you, my dear?” Zina asked as she slowly edged closer to Gewey.

“Perhaps. But I believe that would be a bit too personal to speak of around strangers.”

“Nonsense, we’re all friends here,” Zina replied. “Now, take young Gewey, for example.” She seemed unconcerned in the face of Kaylia’s growing anger. “For the sake of argument, suppose he made this ‘declaration’ to you. How would you protect him from a rival?”

“If I felt it was warranted, I would challenge that rival to single combat,” she answered, feigning an innocent grin. “To the death.”

“I see,” Zina said, smirking. “It’s a good thing we don’t do that here in Althetas. There would be duels in the street on a daily basis.”

“Such a declaration made by anyone other than an elf would be a first,” Drantolis noted, very interested. “If that were to happen, it should be kept secret-even from the more enlightened of us.”

“Relax, Drantolis,” Zina laughed. “We’re just speaking hypothetically. Isn’t that right, dear?”

Kaylia nodded and smiled sweetly. “Of course,” she replied, staring into the woman’s eyes. “But you’re right, Drantolis; such a thing would need to be kept secret.”

“What would be the repercussions if such a union were discovered?” Gewey asked.

“There was only one union between human and elf that we know of,” Drantolis told him. “It was not well received by our people. Linis recently sent word that he discovered that a child came from the union.”

“Really?” Zina exclaimed. “I wonder what the child looks like. And more to the point: I wonder how the other elves will react?”

Gewey and Kaylia shot a glance at one another.

“Those that have been with us from the beginning will not think it’s anything but a natural result of our interaction with humans,” Drantolis explained. “But there are those among us that still struggle with certain ideas. Elves such as Linis, who are revered among our people, must help them understand.” The other two elves nodded in agreement. “His word holds great weight with us and our kin. Of course, there are also many elves that would kill the offspring of such a union on sight.”

“Then let us hope she meets you first,” Zina said, holding up her glass.

“Yes,” Drantolis agreed, tipping his glass against Zina’s in a toast. “Linis believes she represents hope for the future, and I, for one, agree.”

Zina turned toward Kaylia. “My dear, I would speak to you alone, away from these fine gentlemen.”

“Regarding what?” Kaylia asked, suspiciously.

“Certainly not to fight to the death,” she teased. Kaylia was not amused. “Please, let me make up for my earlier behavior. I know something you may want to hear.” She got up and held out her slender, gloved hand. “We won’t be but a moment.”

Kaylia took Zina’s hand and allowed herself to be led through the crowded tavern.

Once they had left, Drantolis leaned closely toward Gewey. “You play a dangerous game, young one,” he whispered. “If you court an elf without full knowledge of our ways, you put both her and yourself in danger-especially if what I suspect is true. Did you say the words?”

Gewey was afraid to speak as the three elves stared at him intently.

“You have nothing to fear,” the elf assured him. “We have been here from the beginning and are not offended by your courtship. But please, do not insult us with lies. The ancient words of declaration have definitely been spoken to Kaylia; we can see it in her eyes and in her behavior. And unless I’ve missed the mark, I think it was you that spoke them. If you did, you need to hear what I have to say.”

Gewey took a deep breath. “I spoke the words.”

The elves looked at one another gravely. “Then you have done a thing even elves haven’t done since the time of the Great War. You have made the bond of courtship. It’s a prelude to the joining.”

“I don’t understand,” Gewey said. “When I spoke them, I didn’t even know what I was saying. I know the traditions of your people can’t be ignored, and I accept that, but I doubt she really intends to marry me.”

Drantolis burst into laughter. “Tradition? Tradition has nothing to do with it. Has she told you nothing? My young friend, the words are meaningless unless spoken from the heart. That you spoke them without knowledge of their meaning, tells me that the bond between you is unbreakable, and possibly dangerous. Have you not noticed how things have changed between you? You can feel what the other feels-joy, fear, pain; all are shared until the time of the joining.”

“Then what happens?” Gewey asked.

“Then your spirits become one in the same, until you both leave this life.”

“She told me she has one year to accept,” said Gewey. “And that if she rejects me, we’re to never see one another again.”

“What she told you is only part of it,” Drantolis replied. “When you spoke the declaration, her spirit attached itself to yours, bonding you together.”

“You mean I forced this on her?” Gewey cried.

“Absolutely not. She wanted it, even if she didn’t know it at the time.” He chuckled and shook his head. “If not, the bonding would have failed. As young as she is, I’m sure it came as a great shock.”

Gewey remembered the terrified expression on Kaylia’s face when he had spoken the words.

“After a year, the bond will break if the joining is not made,” Drantolis continued. “But it is disastrous when the bond is broken-more so when the bond is as strong as yours seems to be. If the joining is not made, you will lose a part of your spirit. She wouldn’t be able to look upon you because it would tear her apart. But should you complete the joining, you would be bound together forever-even in death.”

“What?” Gewey exclaimed. “You mean…”

“I mean if one should die, the other would soon follow,” Drantolis told him somberly. “This is why the bonding is no longer done; the Great War caused many deaths, and their mates died along with them, leaving thousands of orphans. What troubles me, is that when the bond is too strong and the joining not completed it can tear the spirit to shreds, leaving one empty and desolate. For an elf, such a fate is worse than death.”

Gewey put his head in his hands, his mind spinning. Drantolis reached over and squeezed his shoulder. “Take heart,” he said. “She is a fine elf, beautiful and fierce. Anyone, elf or human, would be fortunate to have such a mate.”

Just then, Harlondo rejoined them by the fire. “Are you alright?” he asked Gewey.

“I’m fine,” he replied weakly.

“Come then,” Harlondo beckoned. “I have something you must see.”

“If you will excuse me,” Gewey said, rising from his seat on the couch.

“Return soon, young human,” said Drantolis. “I have enjoyed your company.”

“I will,” Gewey promised, then followed Harlondo through the crowd to the corner of the room.