Bree slapped him again, harder.
Garlain’s aspect didn’t change but he said in a grating voice, “Do that again and I will kill you.”
Bree sat back on the stone floor. “So, you can hear me. I’m Briana Brockhurst, your daughter. You told, no, you promised my mother, promised Patricia, you would come for me, but you never did.”
He blinked. “My Patricia is gone.”
Bree wanted to haul him to his feet, put a sword in his hand and demand he help Horland, but she sensed he was straddling a great abyss and one wrong word or action could send him hurtling down into the darkness for all time.
She had to take it slowly. “Yes, and for me that was twenty-one years ago, but for you it’s been little more than a year, is that right?”
“I know not, but I can still see her face, feel her touch, taste and smell her as if she had only left the room. I want her to come back, but she refuses my pleas.”
“She can’t come back, but I am here. Do you remember me, Garlain?”
No reaction. Bree fished the locket out of the pocket on her black cloak and held it up in front of her father’s face. “You remember this?” She opened it and said, “That’s us. You, me, and Mom. Remember?”
He stared at the picture and Bree was certain something shifted in his eyes. She pulled out the white orb.
“You know what this is, right?”
He regarded her and the life gradually returned to his eyes. He slowly reached out and touched her hair. “Briana?”
“Yes, Father, it’s me.”
Withdrawing his hand, he shook his head. “My Briana was...” He stared into space. “Six years old the last I saw her.”
“It is me, Father. I have waited to come here, to this time, since I was six. Try to understand, it appears time has passed differently for us. Twenty-one years for me has only been one year for you, but that doesn’t make it any less true. I am Briana, yours, and Patricia’s daughter.”
His gaze searched her face and pierced her eyes. A hint of recognition lit his face. “Briana.”
Briana leapt up and caught his hands in hers. “Yes.”
He stood up and wrapped his arms around her. “Briana.”
Bree dropped the orb on the table and hugged him. “Dad.”
Garlain chuckled and looked at her, tears welling in his eyes. “How I have missed hearing you call me that.”
Bree hugged him close. “Dad,” she said again.
“Please, Sir Garlain,” Kieri said. “Sir Horland is in great danger.”
Garlain turned to the girl but kept his arm around Bree’s shoulders. “Horland?”
“Yes,” Morla said. “Bandits have arrived on our doorstep and have him surrounded.”
“My sword.”
Morla trotted to the wall and pulled a sword from its brackets.
“Where are they?” Garlain asked.
“Out front beside the courtyard,” Morla said.
He strode out of the room. Bree hurried after him.
“Stay here,” he said without turning his head.
