Mark Anthony - Kindred Spirits

The guard shut the door, obviously glad to have the dwarf on the other side of it.

The glower on Flint’s face couldn’t disguise the fact that he was as pleased as Miral. “We explained everything to the Speaker,” the dwarf said, refusing a seat. He remained standing on the thick, hand-knotted rug, which depicted a stag hunt in swirls of green, brown, and orange.

Miral made his way to a canvas-and-aspen chair next to a spare-looking table that served Tanis as a desk. The mage eased his body into the chair. Tanis offered him water from a porcelain pitcher, but the mage shook his head wearily.

“Your friend here,” Miral said with a nod at Flint, “told the Speaker everything that happened in the clearing-how Xenoth was yards away from the path of both arrows, how you shot to protect the adviser as the creature attacked…”

“…and how Miral came thundering through the clearing to release his magic against the tylor,” Flint added. “There was some debate over who killed the beast. The mage contended it was your arrow that slew the tylor. Others said it was the mage fire that killed it.”

Tanis could well guess who those “others” were. He leaned against the windowsill and crossed his arms over his chest. He’d exchanged his hunting garb for a soft leather shirt and buckskin leggings.

Miral interjected. “Tanis’s arrow was in the creature’s eye. I but raised a little smoke and fire.”

Flint raised an eyebrow. “Your little smoke and fire’ was far more than a mere distraction.” He looked at the half-elf. “More important, the mage here also proposed an explanation for the strange deflection of your arrow.

Tanis, wordless, looked at Miral. The mage smiled. “Ty-lors are creatures capable of strong magic. I, as you know, am not. Yet somehow, back in the clearing, I was able to send a blast of lightning so strong that it knocked me out of my saddle and, quite possibly, killed the creature.”

“Yes?” Tanis asked, not sure where the mage was leading.

Miral sat up a little straighter in the canvas chair and gestured with his left hand. His bandaged one remained motionless on the arm of the chair. “I merely conjectured whether, in the heat of the emotions of that moment, the creature released its magic and I somehow unwittingly deflected it, turning it back upon the tylor.”

“Is that possible?” Tanis’s face looked dubious.

The mage shrugged, and slumped again. “I don’t know. It’s only a guess. But if that did happen-and it’s a big ‘if,’ I know-could that same burst of powerful magic also have deflected an arrow from its path?”

Tanis looked wonderingly at the mage. “You are saying…”

Miral drew a deep breath. “That what happened to Lord Xenoth was an accident, that you were in no way to blame.” He paused to gather his thoughts. “And that, in fact, you behaved honorably and bravely in the face of near-certain death, seeking to save Lord Xenoth.”

Flint stomped over to Tanis’s desk and helped himself to a handful of sugared almonds from a covered wooden bowl. ‘The Speaker said he will check with experts in magic to see if that is a plausible explanation,” he added. “And thus, it appears, you are cleared. The guards have been dismissed from your door.”

With the tension finally eased, Tanis realized he’d gotten four hours of sleep in the past forty-eight. He yawned expansively, and the dwarf and mage grinned.

“Lad, you look as though you’ve lived through ten years in two days,” Flint said, clearly unaware of the pouches under his own bloodshot eyes.

“I have.”

With no more words, the dwarf and the elven mage left then, one to his shop and the other to his rooms at the palace. Tanis moved to his wardrobe to prepare to retire. He had just shrugged out of the leather shirt when he heard a knock at his door. Thinking it was Flint, he strode to the door and threw it open, not bothering to throw anything over his torso.

A light voice greeted him, and Laurana stepped out of the shadows of the corridor into his room. She appeared hesitant, which was unusual for her but probably not surprising considering Tanis’s level of undress. The only light in the room came from a lamp on Tanis’s desk and the moonlight streaming through the window behind him. The lamplight glinted against the metallic strands in her long silver gown. “Tanis.”

He said nothing. Tanis hoped this interview wouldn’t last long. He was suddenly so tired that he could barely focus on the elven princess.

“I…” She faltered and tried again. “Father talked to me about the discussion you and he had this morning.” She passed him and stepped onto the thick rug that Flint had occupied only moments before.

Tanis, shaking his head, remained in the doorway. Was it only that morning that he had met with Solostaran in the Speaker’s private chambers at the Tower? How badly the half-elf needed sleep. He reeled and caught the stone door frame.

“He said you don’t love me,” Laurana continued. “Not the way I hoped you did.” She kept her chin high, but her agitation showed in the way she kept smoothing the lace at the wrists of the gown.

What it must be costing her emotionally to force this conversation, Tanis suddenly thought. He hoped to make the discussion as short and honest as possible. “You are my sister,” he said gently.

“That’s not true!” Laurana protested. “Just because we were raised in the same house doesn’t make that so. I can love you, and I do.” She moved toward him and grabbed for his hand with her slender fingers.

Tanis groaned inwardly, yet he knew deep down that Laurana was right. She was his cousin only by marriage- and even that link was tenuous. She certainly was not his true sister. But did he even wish her to be so? He shook his head, thinking of the golden ring that lay hidden still in the bottom of his leather purse.

“Laurana, please understand,” Tanis said, his voice weary. “I do love you. But I love you as a-”

“-as a sister?” she finished acidly, and suddenly pulled away from him. ‘That’s what you told father this morning, wasn’t it? ‘I love her only as a sister.’ “

Only the ragged sound of her breathing broke the silence in the room. When she spoke again, her voice was bitter.

“I’ve been a fool, haven’t I? I won’t trouble you any longer, Tanthalas, my brother. I should thank you, really, for opening my eyes to the truth “

Her face was as cold as the quartz walls of the room, but Tanis saw Solinari’s light reflected in the tears in her eyes.

“I could learn to hate you, Tanis!” she cried, and then shoved past him to the corridor, leaving Tanis to stare after her. Just before she disappeared down the hallway, she stopped and turned. Her voice was nearly calm again. “Throw away the ring, Tanthalas.” Then she vanished.

Tanis mentally kicked himself. There must have been a better way to have handled that. He shook his head and sighed, then closed the door.

A.C. 308, Early Summer

Weeks went by without any further word on the controversy over Lord Xenoth’s death. A quiet funeral was held for the longtime adviser two days after his death. Truth to tell, few people in the court missed the irascible adviser, and more than one elf silently breathed a sigh of relief at not having to cross verbal swords with him anymore.

Xenoth’s funeral did not prevent the general population from conducting spontaneous festivals to celebrate the slaying of the tylor. The beast had done much to inhibit the trade that increasingly formed a basis of the Qualinesti economy. The beast’s horned head was displayed for a time at the southwestern guard tower, and long lines of elves, many with excited children in tow, formed to view the trophy.