“I find that difficult to believe.”
“You aimed to steal my army. Is it so unreasonable to think that you succeeded?”
“I aimed to borrowour men, yes, but not the loyalty of your scouts.”
“They are one and the same.”
“How can you say so? They have served you for years.”
“Men are like streams,” the Elder replied. “They tend to flow towards the strongest river. Years served has little to do with it.”
They glared at each other, but Ellina thought the posture seemed hollow, like a log that has rotted inside, easily crunched with a foot. Here were two stubborn people, each of whom cared deeply, and were determined not to show it.
“I still do not understand,” Harmon said. “I thought you were coming to reclaim your men.”
“Only because I thought you were dead.” The Elder’s expression finally unlocked. He looked aged, suddenly, and terribly frail. “After your mother died in battle, I forbid women from fighting our wars. It was too late to save Arana, but I could ensure that other children did not have to grow up motherless. That is the reason I gave, anyway, and it was true, in its way. But my greater motivation was to protect you.” He shifted his gaze to the desk, its hard varnish reflecting his remorse. “You were so much like your mother. As a child, you dreamed of knighthood. And oh, you were tenacious. I knew that if you saw other women doing battle, you would be determined to join them. So I changed the rules in the hopes that you would not meet Arana’s fate.”
“You succeeded,” Harmon said, apparently unmoved by her father’s speech. “I am no warrior.”
“Oh, Harmon.” He gave a laugh. “But you are.”
“You sound…not angry.”
“I am furious,” the Elder said, “but it was my mistake for underestimating you. Perhaps I was fighting fate. I will do it no more. You have chosen the path of a military leader, and I can accept that, as long as you do not run away again. I already lost your mother. I cannot lose you, too.”
???
Once it was apparent that the Elder had only come for his daughter, Venick, Dourin and Ellina departed to give Harmon and her father a chance to speak alone. Outside, dusk had deepened fully into night, the stars winking from behind high, thin clouds. In the dark were the noises of the city: sheep bells, the crackle of meat over a spit, random laughter.
Ellina found Erol sitting on a stone bench in the center of a plaza. There were six marble statues set along the plaza’s perimeter, each depicting a human holding a live torch. Ellina wondered who had seen to those torches, and whether it might have been Erol. She should tell him about the superior flammability ofrezahesap. Yet when she came to perch on the seat beside him, they merely sat in silence.
After a time, Erol said, “I’m sorry.”
Though he could have been apologizing for any number of things, Ellina knew what he meant. “Farah and I shared no love for each other.”
“Still, she was your sister.”
Ellina set her forearms on her knees and searched herself for remorse. She found none. “I think,” she said, “relationships cannot merely stand on blood ties. They must be fostered. And reciprocated.”
The words hung in the air.
Erol said, “I wanted to tell you the truth about your mother and me. I did not know how.”
Again, Ellina searched herself. She spoke carefully, trying out the truth of the words as she gave them life. “I think…if you had told me before, I would not have believed you. Though I wish…” Ellina looked at her hands. “I wish I could have known sooner. That it did not always have to be a secret. It explains so much.”
Erol mimicked Ellina’s posture, leaning forward and twisting his neck to look at her. “You should know that there was another reason Rishiana wanted to push Miria onto the throne. Rishi thought she could wring the humanness out of her. That by making Miria queen, Miria might begin to favor her elven side. But of course, it does not work like that.” He looked out between the statues into dark nothingness. “I understand if you would rather not tell the others of our relation. You would not be the first halfling to desire discretion.”
This, at least, Ellina could give him. “I am tired of secrets. I want others to know.”
Erol nodded. Ellina had not realized, until she saw the tension leave him, that there had been any there at all. He drew his hand up and around the plaza. “Do you recognize these statues?”
Ellina shook her head.
“They are the six founders of Evov, the human conjurors who first created this place. That,” he pointed to a slim figure with a neatly trimmed beard, “Was my great ancestor. And yours.”
Ellina stood from the bench and went to inspect the statue more closely, reaching to touch the carved folds. Her mother never liked to speak of the past. Most elves did not, actually. History was too much like art. “Will you tell me more? About my ancestors?”
Erol’s smile, which always seemed to hover around the edges of his eyes and mouth, split open. “I will tell you everything.”
