Corentin sat in a group of near eight others, in the same house that he had just had his discussion with Argrave. The other southron elves were grizzled, scarred warriors just as he was—obvious war veterans. They were in a loose circle, some standing, some sitting.

“So, just as Durran did, this new arrival claims to have met my daughter?” one asked, a man with a missing nose.

“Yeah,” Corentin nodded, looking out towards the door. “Same tale as Durran, too. Gebicca was crushed beneath rocks. Same accounts. Only difference…” Corentin turned his head back. “Argrave brought Brumesingers with him. Seems to have tamed them, too.”

The warriors all looked greatly intrigued by this. One, who leaned against Corentin’s wall, asked, “How?”

“I don’t know,” Corentin shook his head.

“You didn’t ask?” the man pressed.

“What am I, a damned interrogator? You ask him,” Corentin crossed his arms and shook his head.

“What good are you, old bastard?” the man with the missing nose asked.

“Least I can still smell things, Morvan,” Corentin returned with a laugh. “You go outside, that cavity you call a nose fills up with sand. What kind of desert warrior loses to sand?”

Some of the others joined the man in laughter.

“You one-eyed prick,” Morvan leaned forward, a smile on his face.

“Let’s stay serious,” another man interjected—though he seemed the oldest, he was the least scarred. All of the others heeded his words at once. “Save the banter for when we don’t have an unexpected visitor. This man, Argrave, claims to be working with the Lord of Copper. This deserves serious treatment.”

Corentin raised his hands. “Of course, Florimond.”

Florimond looked about. “What is he doing right now?”

Someone stalked to the door of Corentin’s house. “Looks like… he’s letting the Brumesingers play with the children.”

That brief little description immediately made everyone stir.

“Either he’s not a bad guy, or he’s damned good at tugging the heartstrings,” Morvan shook his head.

“This is someone working for the Vessels,” another warrior posited. “With the intent to betray them, too. Maybe he’s a paragon. Maybe he’s a good actor.”

That sobered some of the warriors up, and their smiles faded somewhat.

“But what he’s saying—that the southern tribals are going to attack with the help of the Lord of Copper—it does match with what Durran told us. Everything matches,” Corentin ceded.

“Did you tell him anything about Durran? About the proposition the man’s made to us?” Florimond questioned.

“You think I’m stupid?” Corentin put a hand to his chest. “I kept my mouth shut, tried to let him say his piece.” Corentin lowered his hand.

“And that warrior with him?”

I don’t know. Probably the type of guy I’d avoid on the battlefield. Strong,

from anything, craven moron,” Morvan crossed

Corentin gestured towards the no-nosed elf. “His hand’s bigger

sunk back into his chair,

the world are we going to say to this guy?” Florimond looked around. “Do we tell him

would we?” Corentin crossed

that. I do think

to hear this ‘grand plan’ of his,” Morvan raised his hand. “Doesn’t matter if he can manipulate the Lord of Copper if he’s a drooling imbecile. If he’s stupid, we should probably migrate. Been too long, anyhow. Don’t like staying in this

I brought this,” he pulled out the black cube with glowing purple runes on it. “He kept his eye on it, like

told

one of those,” Morvan disagreed. “Smart girl, but… too young,” he shook his

Someone patted

me by staying quiet,” Morvan finally broke the silence, shaking his head. “Keep talking, you

advice, continuing, “So—we ask him questions, try to get a

said the

#####

place. I can hear nothing,” Galamon shook his

explained. “They help with privacy.

in the oasis town. The Brumesingers dashed about the open area like little balls of lightning, the southron elven children watching them and playing with them, tossing things to be retrieved or leading them about

you like

“No,” said Argrave immediately.

looked down. “You surprise

don’t want to deal with other

“Sons, daughters?” he pressed.

his head. “Wrong time to even consider considering

control where the mind wanders,” Galamon

crossed

wasn’t ready, either,”

could ask it, he spotted a decent crowd moving towards them. The old warriors of the southron elves moved from Corentin’s home, striding

men are full

questioned, though

sight alone. None can,” Galamon shook his head. “But they’re alive.

skilled,” Argrave told Galamon.

an eye on them

pity any of them. They seemed too proud to be pitied. Some were missing hands or had gruesome scars across their bodies—Morvan ‘No-Nose’ was here, just as One-Eye Corentin.

simply tired

Brumesingers, who kept

stopped on Morvan. “You must be Gebicca’s father,” he stepped forward,

Morvan held up his hand. He was missing

At first, he dismissed the thought, presuming that the man had time to process his grief since Corentin had informed him… but Morvan definitely

known for

tried to think of alternatives, another explanation for this scenario… but nothing came, and the only thing Argrave could conjure was that Morvan had been informed a long time ago. The southron elf locked himself away for a

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255