Page 284 of Of Empires and Dust
“Sankyar Alunea.” Gaeleron now stood by Calen’s side with one hand pressed to his chest, a droplet of mead rolling down his chin. “Din närvarvin gryr haydria til myia elwyn.”
Captain Alunea. Your presence brings honour to my heart.
“Ar diar, myialí, Narvír Athis.”
And yours, mine, Commander Athis.
Gaeleron straightened his back and lifted his chin at Faelen’s words.
As they all piled in, Calen greeted Aruni with the same warmth he had Therin. And to his surprise, so too did Ella. The pair exchanged a quiet whisper, and Aruni squeezed Ella’s shoulder gently.
Once they were all seated around the table, Elia carefully supervised Lasch and Tanner placing the giant pot of stew directly in the table’s centre atop a stone tray. The two men strained, their faces red and hands shaking as she forced them to hold the pot over the table while she adjusted the tray, trying to position it just right. When she finally deemed the tray’s position acceptable and the two men were allowed to lower the pot, she proceeded to lay even more plates of bread, roasted vegetables, sauces, potatoes mashed with goat’s milk and hard cheese, strips of seared lamb and venison… the list went on and on. The last time Calen had seen so much food had been in Arthur’s halls in Belduar. The thought was a sombre one. The last time Calen had stood in those halls, Arthur sat dead on his throne with his heart ripped from his chest.
“One night of peace,” Calen whispered, pushing the thoughts from his head. “Just one night.”
Lasch stood and moved to the top of the table, his tankard in his hand. “Before we eat, I’d like to say something.” A moment of silence passed, all at the table looking up at Lasch. He took a deep draught of his mead. “Liquid courage,” he said with a laugh. “I wanted to thank you all. Not only for how you have cared for and welcomed both Elia and me, but for how you have looked after Calen and Ella – and Dann, the little toe-rag. Where we come from, family, and your people, mean everything. Their blood is your blood, their pain is your pain. Freis and Vars Bryer were two of our closest friends. I grew up with Vars, knew him since we were little shits no taller than my knee. And so that makes Calen and Ella our children in a sense. It’s only a shame our own son isn’t here with us…”
Lasch stared off at something on the other side of the room for a moment, and as he did, Calen’s heart bled. He would have given almost anything to have Rist there with them. He had tried, he’d done everything, and still it didn’t feel like enough.
“Apologies.” Lasch swallowed hard, staring down into his mead. Elia reached up and grabbed his hand, her fingers intertwining with his. “What I was trying to say is thank you for making this place our second home and for making our family a little bigger.”
Lasch raised his tankard, and so did the others. Calen bit at the inside of his cheek, then mirrored the gesture. Ella was the last. She glanced at Calen, then gave him the falsest of smiles and raised her tankard.
“There is a prayer we say in the villages. A prayer for those we love and for those we wish to keep safe. May The Mother embrace you, and The Father protect you. May The Warrior guide your hand, and The Maiden guide your mind. May TheSmith keep your blade sharp, and The Sailor see you to safe shores. To family, together and apart.”
“To family,” they all chorused.
As Lasch returned to his seat and the others filled their plates, Calen leaned in to Ella. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said, repeating that same false smile.
“Ella, I’ve known you my whole life. I know when you’re lying.”
She bit at her lip and tapped her fingers against the table in the way she did when she was debating something in her head. “After. Can we take a walk when the meal is done?”
Calen nodded and Ella took a bowl of stew passed over by Tanner, her lips curling in a broad smile of thanks. He continued to stare at her, wondering what it was that had his sister in such a strange mood.
She placed her hands over his. “Eat, Calen. And for the love of the gods, drink.”
And so, he did as his sister asked. He sat and he drank and he ate, and he listened to Lasch and Tanner tell stories about Vars and about Rhett and about a hundred other things. And the entire time, Valerys’s mind drifted with his from where the dragon lay with Avandeer and the others in the Eyrie. And he was warm.
Later,when Elia had fallen asleep in a chair by the fire and Lasch, Tanner, Yana, and Faelen were enthralled by one of Therin’s stories, Ella tapped Calen on the shoulder and the two made to creep out the door.
“Draleid,” Gaeleron whispered, standing from his chair quietly so as not to interrupt the story. “I will go with you.”
“No.” Calen clasped the elf’s shoulder, shaking his head. “Ella and I need some time alone.”
“With respect, Draleid. Now that you have returned, a personal guard should be arranged. Even in Aravell.”
“If it will make you rest easier, Gaeleron, we will arrange one first thing in the morning. Five handpicked by you.”
“It will, Draleid.”
“But give me tonight. And give it to yourself as well. Sit, drink, eat. There’s plenty of stew left. And between Therin, Lasch, and Tanner, I’m sure there’ll be stories told until the early hours. Enjoy the small moments.”
Gaeleron nodded, turning his gaze to the floor.
Calen leaned his head down to look into the elf’s eyes. “You of all people have earned this, Gaeleron. I will never forget who and what you are. Sit. Drink too much. Sleep in my bed if you can’t walk,” he said with a smile. “I’ll sleep in the Eyrie tonight with Valerys.”
