Years before, William's Father, Vanion, had returned from the Calishan Wars a hero. The latest siege of Cowcal had been greatly helped by several victories he won. His spear and the weapons of his companions had seen the Calishans beaten at Desora. The memory of them being driven into the sea by a mere fragment of the Harlenorian army. It had been unforgettable. The sunlight was glinting off spearpoints as they closed on the enemy. The cries of dismay and triumph had been breathtaking. Though he'd nearly lost his life.
It was a sight he would remember, no matter how far he went in life. Alas, the attack had forced the siege of Cowcal to end early, but Artarq remained secure. The army had also taken much plunder and renown gathered.
And yet he was in no hurry to get home and tell the story in the hall of his Father. That was why he'd let Raynald convince him to journey to visit the manor of the De Chevlons. It was a very awkward situation, for him at least. He'd learned soon on his arrival that only some of the De Chevlons were as eager as Raynald to mend fences. As the party continued around him, he felt like Raynald had only invited him to offend his relatives.
It worked. Vanion kept getting icy glares from various members of the De Chevlons. A social person would have been able to win them over through sheer sincerity. But, unfortunately, he was not a social person.
"Feeling isolated in a crowd?" asked a familiar voice.
Vanion looked up to see Rusara leaning against a wall. The gray-skinned elf looked very beautiful after her fashion. Her violet dress suited her well. As did her silver earrings, an appealing change from the usual robes she wore. Yet she had chosen Raynald and not him.
"More or less," he admitted, "I don't see why Raynald even brought us here."
"You were looking for an excuse not to meet your family quite so soon," said Rusara. "Raynald didn't want to meet with his family and decided to use you to make a point."
"What point?" asked Vanion.
"I'm not sure," admitted Rusara, "that he still remembers their mistreatment of him. I gather there isn't much love between him and his brothers. After showing them all up in battle, it would add insult to injury to bring you here."
"An alliance between the Gabriels and the De Chevlons would be mighty," said Vanion. "You would think they would see past the fact."
"Power or not, blood seeks more blood," said Rusara. "When you leave here, I should avoid traveling alone. Some De Chevlon's are hotheaded and might decide to correct Raynald's error."
"So you aren't coming with me?" asked Vanion, feeling more alone than ever.
"I would like to see Carn Gable someday," admitted Rusara, "but I have been away from the Dusk Lands for decades. I do need to check in with my family."
"Yes," said Vanion. "Family does come first."
"Not for Raynald," noted Rusara, "or for you."
"Yes, I suppose so," said Vanion.
At that moment, the crowds shifted and parted. Vanion looked up to see the fairest woman he had ever seen. Her hair was wavy and dark, and her skin was light. She wore a silken white dress and walked with a grace that defied reason. Then Vanion saw the man on her arm, and Vanion almost cursed. He was far plainer than his wife, a very ordinary-looking sort. Nevertheless, Vanion tried and failed not to resent him.
"Who are they?" asked Vanion.
"Duke Margravine Borinius and his Duchess, Isabella," said Rusara. "He's the Lord of Brisgald, one of the most important and formidable fortresses-"
YOU ARE READING
The Dreaming Goddess
FantasyHe'd known he shouldn't have taken that boat, but ambition has a way of kicking you in the teeth. William Gabriel has lived his life in the shadow of his Mother and Father. He has been raised on a thousand tales of their legendary exploits, dreading...
