The breeze began to stiffen as they made their way
along, stirring the deep blue waters to whitecaps. A short distance past the
black rock a clay tiled roof had been raised over the path supported by narrow
stone columns spaced evenly along the entire length of the causeway. With the
sun directly above, the shadow across the path was absolute. Darby shivered and
quickened his pace.
“I haven’t been to one of these
since…” Darby’s voice trailed off as his memory began to wander.
“I know,” replied Liam. He chuckled
and clapped Darby brusquely on his shoulder. “Everyone knows. It’s hard to miss
those empty seats next to the King and Queen, eh?”
Darby frowned. He tried to
concentrate on the rhythm of the water against the stone foundations, but he
found his thoughts fragmenting. “I can’t sit up there.” he said quietly. “Not
without her.”
After a moment, he shrugged and
said, “It always meant more to her than to me, anyway.”
Liam’s long strides threatened to
outpace Darby, but old habits quickened Darby’s pace and soon brought him level
with his friend. Darby saw Liam smirk before slowing his pace just slightly.
They walked on in silence for a few moments as the wind gusted rustling Darby’s
longcoat. The leather scabbard that held the broken ironwood sword slapped
against his thigh. Darby snatched at the pommel pressing it hard against his
hip to keep it still.
“Is that the same sword?” asked Liam
Darby nodded. “It can’t be mended
and it belonged to my greatfather.”
It
has his blood on it still.
A wave slapped against the stone
spilling water onto the surface. The spray spattered against Darby’s face with
an icy chill. He moved toward the center of the causeway to avoid the rising
swell but found himself going deeper into the shadow cast by the roof. He
pulled his coat tighter about him.
“That won’t do you much good if the
Teor decide to attack.” said Liam.
Darby shifted his grip on the
pommel. “There hasn’t been so much as a foraging party this side of the
Gohlengar for over a year now.”
Liam shrugged. “Well, you’ve been
out there. What did you find?”
“Nothing,” he replied after a
moment’s pause. “I went as far as Ederell Font, but all I found were some old
campsites. Two of them were mine and third was well over a year old.”
“So…, nothing of the Teor?”
There was a hitch in Liam’s voice
when he asked the question. Darby knew what he was really asking. Unlike his
ever brusque sister, Lewellyn, Liam at least tried to be tactful. Darby shook
his head and kept walking.
After a time, Liam began to hum softly. It was an old
tune in a style that was more plain song than lyric. Somber in tenor and older
than most anything else Darby knew, but one that nearly every child could sing by
rote by the age of ten. The words came easily to him scrolling in his mind as
if he were at his lessons again.
Far
over the dark oceans cold,
Through
stone and rock to the land of old.
Fire
and wing and sacrifice,
The
Gate of Stone was bought with a life…
Darby stopped. “I saw it,” he said,
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