UNSHEATHED

Chapter Twenty Six

As the day wore on, the temperature cooled to a more tolerable level. Four of the guards rode in front of them, two abreast, and four more in pairs behind them, leaving Joran and Elena riding together in the middle. While Elena found Joran to be a quiet man in general, he would occasionally break from whatever kept his mind occupied to talk with her as long as she provided a question or topic. She wondered about their destination.

"Have you visited Perramo much?"

"Oh, yes, many times. The Mayor, Lord Odvar, is a distant relative, actually, and his family frequently extends invitations to mine for various events."

"I thought he was from Naral, in the north."

"He is, but as a nobleman, he's related to all the royal houses of the Hilliri. My mother was Sarethian and a distant cousin of my grandmother, Queen Liriel, you know, and they were both also related to Lord Odvar. There is a large volume of family genealogy in the archives. I'll have to check it again to verify the connections."

Elena smiled. Joran loved books. Whenever she needed to find him, the Library was always the first place she would look.

"I didn't think the Hilliri made alliances by marriage." Elena remembered how she had once been given away in just such a fashion, according to Estallese custom.

"No, they, I mean...we, don't."

The hesitation drew Elena's thoughts to the topic of his mixed heritage. She was curious, but it was impolite to ask.

"It's funny, you know," Joran continued, "I mostly think of myself as Hilliri, but then, sometimes I don't." Elena thought his dark hair streaming in a tail behind him as they rode attested to the latter.

"Does it matter?" Elena turning to look directly at him. He met her gaze and nodded, thinking.

He looked off into the distance for a moment.

"Yes, and no. Yes, because it's hard to know to which people I belong. No, because I realized a long time ago that I can't change what I am. Sometime being both makes me belong to both, but sometimes it makes me neither."

Elena's heart flickered with a familiar pain. She understood exactly what Joran was saying.

"It must feel very lonely sometimes."

"My sister tries so hard to be Hilliri. She removes the colour from her hair, but her eyes still give her away." Jaline was Elena's friend, and she knew the efforts the woman went to in order to blend in.

Elena's horse started to quicken his pace so that she could no longer hold a conversation with Joren. She wrestled with her mount until she was once again beside Joran. She glanced over at him and noted his eyes were the same bright blue as Jaline's, and for that matter, Liran's. The Hilliri always had pale eyes, pale hair and pale skin. In this manner, these three all stood out in a crowd of Hilliri, but with their pale skin they would also stand out in a crowd of Trillas. But these were superficial characteristics. What mattered more were things like maru. Elena wondered what talents Joran had in this regard.

"Did you study healing like your father?"

Joran shook his head and smiled.

"No, I don't have much talent for maru of any kind. I can mend a cut or a simple fracture, but not much more. I tried my hand at gardening, which was my maternal grandfather's gift, but I couldn't do much more than make a few seeds sprout." He shrugged. "My skills lie in the study of law and history."

Joran had taken to looking after military records for their current endeavor. Thus far he had recorded the towns that had been visited and the number of able-bodied people that had promised to come for training and to fight if needed. Elena had also asked him to make note of those who had previous military experience and especially those who had some ability in leadership. After all, she couldn't train or lead an army by herself.