Chapter III
A Father’s Choice
Slyamal paced impatiently in front of the doors to his daughter’s room as he waited for the chambermaid to return.
“I’m sorry, my lord,” said the maid as she returned, “But the lady Jenel refuses to see anyone.”
Enraged, Slyamal burst through the heavy door nearly knocking the poor girl over. “She will see her own father.” He stormed into the room spotting his daughter near a window.
“I wish not to be disturbed,” said Jenel calmly.
“Would you deny your own father?”
“Leave us,” Jenel commanded the others in the room. “What do you want?”
“You have not left your chamber for days. You take your meals here. No one has seen you. Jenel, I am concerned for your welfare.”
“You got what you wanted. Tesnayr is gone and I am locked up here.”
“He had to leave, you know that. You could not expect him to stay here when the orcs moved east.”
“That is not what I speak of.”
“War is no place for a woman.”
“Nelyn was allowed to go,” said Jenel.
“Nelyn is not my daughter,” replied King Slyamal. “Jenel, you are the princess of Sym’Dul. Our station sometimes requires a certain amount of sacrifice.”
“At what cost? You once told me that I should choose a man to marry who is selfless, courageous, honest, and has integrity. Tesnayr is all of those things and yet you refuse him.”
“He and I have had our differences,” said King Slyamal.
“Father I love him!” Jenel immediately covered her mouth after her outburst.
King Slyamal looked in Jenel’s tear stained eyes. Just like her sister, he thought. He noticed her fumbling with a ring on her finger. Quickly, he snatched it. “Who gave you this?”
“Tesnayr.”
“Is he aware of its significance?”
“Yes, father.”
A grim expression crossed King Slyamal’s face. He found himself considering the one act he detested, and all for the sake of his daughter. “This is not the fantasy of a young woman.” It was a statement, not a question. He left without another word.
“Boy, come here,” he said to a passing boy as he entered the corridor. “I want to know where General Tesnayr was headed when he left.”
“Yes, my lord.” The boy sped off.
King Slyamal marched toward his compartment. He had much packing and planning to do if he was to find Tesnayr.
King Slyamal pulled tightly on the leather strap securing the saddlebag in place. The horse whinnied in the chill air. “Whoa, boy,” he soothed. He heaved another saddlebag onto the horse and fastened it. He had a long journey ahead and had no intention of running out of supplies. The damp air seeped through his gloves. He had not even started and already the king felt the cold, winter’s final attempt to maintain its hold on the land.
“I thought kings had servants to pack their horses,” said a sly voice behind him. Out from the shadows stepped Ernayn.
“I haven’t time to waste,” replied King Slyamal as he continued his preparations.
“Such urgency,” said Ernayn.
“What is your business here, sorceress?”
“I was about to ask you the same,” she replied. “Tesnayr left yesterday morn and now here you are preparing to ride. A long journey by the looks of it.”
“I have business with Tesnayr,” said King Slyamal.
“To kill him?”
“Quite the opposite.” King Slyamal finished securing his sword to the horse.
“Interesting. Considering the mark he left you.”
King Slyamal rubbed his nose.
“Why must you leave?”
King Slyamal stole a quick glance at the balcony his daughter stood upon. He watched her as she stared into the distance that Tesnayr had ridden in, ignoring the cold. His only reason for doing anything. “I do not do this for myself, but for one I love. I’ll not allow her to die of a broken heart, same as her sister.”
“Take Quesha with you.”
“No,” said Slyamal more sternly than he had meant to, “I must do this myself.”
“Then allow me to give you a small bit of advice.” Ernayn closed the distance between them. “Stay on the high road.”
King Slyamal jumped on his horse grasping the reins tightly. “Protect my daughter. I shall return.” He kicked his horse and sped off through the canyon and into the valley beyond leaving nothing but clouds of dust.