There
were more patrons at the other inn and with them, much more noise. It made
it easier for Dafne to hide away, tucked into a corner booth, her ears
sensitive to the talk around her as she twirled her room key around her
finger. It helped to drown out her own thoughts and doubts, hearing those
of the elves.
Most
traded stories of their adventures on the seas, some spoke of loved ones back
home, but the point all seemed to come back to, the fear they all shared was
the looming threat of the wizard’s army and which village he would hit next.
Many that
crowded the inn were displaced refugees of villages sacrificed to Jabari’s fire
and vengeance. They had lost everything and escaped with barely their lives, some
not even that. Most argued and bellowed angrily over the Queen’s lack of
action. Some, who seemed more thoughtful than others, attributed that to
the Council’s required vote.
“The
Queen isn’t allowed to mobilize the troops for war without the Council’s
approval and they voted against it,” one elf said to the group standing at the
bar.
Karawyn
had lost the vote? Dafne wondered how the world hadn’t been beaten down by a constant
storm fueled by her sister’s wrath at losing anything, much less something as
important as the vote.
“The
Queen is gifted, she shouldn’t need the vote,” chimed in another. “She should
just fight.”
“But then
we’d be complaining now about her lack of diplomacy and not following the rules
instead of her inaction,” retorted the voice of reason. A low
chorus of grumbles and huffs followed.
“Her
people are dying,” a female voice lamented. “Certainly she wouldn’t continue to
let them suffer. Certainly she doesn’t fear the wizard.”
Karawyn didn’t fear the wizard. Her deep-seeded betrayal
burned away any other emotion, but for hate. Dafne;
however, still felt the stirring of sorrow over losing her beloved
guardian. The loss cut deep, deeper than the deception.
“And
where is the Prince?” another asked. Dafne perked up, looking
their way.
“Probably
taken up with his human,” another grumbled, earning a scowl from Dafne.
“No, his
absence during these times is notable,” said Reason. “He hasn’t been to any of
the council meetings; word is that he’s disappeared.”
“Do you
believe the stories that he was involved in all of those killings with the
Angel of Death?” a new voice asked.
“They
were doing what was ordered of them, what the Queen had warned…”
Dafne
wanted to growl with frustration. She didn’t care about the
legends and rumors; she knew exactly what happened with Jarrad and Aerath concerning
those aligned with Jabari’s army. She wanted to know why they
thought her brother had disappeared.
“It’s a
lot nicer in here,” Baelemar observed, sitting down beside Dafne only to frown
at her expression of frustration. “What’s wrong?”
“They’re
saying Jarrad has disappeared. And Karawyn lost the
vote. Do you know anything about that?” The words rushed from Dafne on a
single breath.
With a
look of guilt, he said, “I received word when looking for the horses. A scout
delivered the note. Your brother was arrested by the Elders.”
“Arrested!”
Dafne cried, not caring if anyone noticed. “How can that be? I didn’t
even know they did that!”
“They
exact punishments for certain crimes committed. Emily
broke the Ancient Treaties by killing Zoroaster.” Dafne
closed her mouth, knowing at the time it had been a crime but had hoped then it
would go unnoticed. “Because she’s human, Jarrad is serving her punishment for
her.”
“What
does that mean?”
Baelemar
shook his head, sympathetic. “I don’t know.”
“What are
these punishments?”
“Not
something you want to know more about, but your brother is strong and
powerfully gift, I’m sure he’ll be fine.”
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