Chapter VI:
The Dark Order
Thuruvis
Thuruvis awoke with a start, shielding his eyes against the blazing noonday sun. The clouds had parted and the sun had risen above the window curtain at the same instant, releasing the dazzling light of heaven in a torrent. It struck him right across the face, waking him from a deep sleep. He had spent the past week felling trees and chopping firewood, some of which he sold and some of which he kept for his own small stove.
His neighbors were still not used to seeing an elf perform such labor, nor were they yet fully comfortable with the idea that an elf would make his home in the Nook. They were too afraid of the elves to offer any real complaint, however. Looks of distrust, and fearful glances were all that they would dare offer against him. They greeted him with the title 'Lord' or 'Master', though he denied that he was entitled to any such honor. Indeed, he made a point to state explicitly that he was no lord. 'The last thing I need now is for the men of Centan to hear of an elf calling himself 'Lord' in the Nook,' he reasoned.
The Talon Mountain range was named for its appearance on the oldest map in Sunlan, where it was drawn, not as so many mountains, but as a great eagle's talon, reaching into Sunlan. The Talon belonged, legend said, to the Fire Bird, a great god that dwelt in the Utter North. The Talon Mountains seemed to reach down from the North as if it would catch up Sunlan into the sky like an owl snatching a mouse from the fields. Better maps lessened this impression among the educated, but the people of Sunlan - the humans I mean - were not educated. They clung fiercely to the notion that the mountains were somehow part of some grand divine being. The people of the Nook were no different, though they took a rather different perspective than most. For some people in Sunlan the Talon was seen as a god, a protector. But to those who dwelt at the root of the Esthalon River, where the Southeastern mountains and the Central Mountains parted, the Talon was symbolic of every bad turn of events. And their place in these events was called the Nook - so named because it was, again, on the old maps, the nook between the two talons. The word, though it was a name of their own invention, carried with it a great many implications. It was a word of division, of ill luck, of oppression - it was a word that signified 'lowliness' in every way possible. As the people used it, so the name spread, until all over Sunlan it was known that a sad and beaten down people dwelt in that land.
Every spring, as soon as the land was safe to be entered – few men entered the Nook during the winter - the warriors of Centan would ride north and receive tribute from the people of the Nook. Though the taxes were a heavy burden, the hardy people of the Nook would just shrug and say one to the other, 'The Talon squeezes its prey; what shall be done about it?' This was by and large their attitude toward Thuruvis, who had come to their lands just after the harvest with nothing more than the clothes on his back. The people were generous with him, though it was more out of fear than pity. He was an elf, and they knew that in due time he would bring hardship to the Nook, one way or another. This he denied as well. He insisted that he only meant to live there for a time, and that he would, for that time, have no dealings with the elves of Sunlan.
There was something more than the light that woke him, though, and it shook him to his soul. He was not superstitious by any stretch, but his mind turned immediately to his beloved. 'Dalele,' he whispered to the shadows. 'I was a fool to let you go in my stead.' Every day he changed his mind it seemed. Some days he thought he had done right, encouraging her and letting her take his place on Lord Pelas' expedition. Other days, like this particular day, he felt as though he would rather see her in the arms of another than see her come to harm. 'Dalta was right in challenging me; for I am not worthy of her.'
Today he would stack the wood that would hopefully carry him through the rest of the winter and bundle the rest to sell to others. Whether they had need of it or not, they would buy it. One could never have enough firewood in the Nook during the winter he was told. The cold wind seemed to slide down from the eastern mountains and the central, mixing and swirling in a frigid dance over the Nook. If you did not have a lot of wood to burn, the winter could very easily make an end of you.
They would buy it, he knew, but not for a great price. Money was as scarce as good cheer in this place.
It was a fitting place for an exiled elf. 'An exiled elf awaiting ill news,' he said bitterly. Today it had been a mistake to let her go. He could not have known that at that very moment, deep in the hot south, Dalia was being scourged by a merciless Knariss sailor. If he could have known it, he would have left that moment and found a ship that would sail to Dominas. And if no ship would sail thence, he would compel one to do so. But he did not know; though he felt his beloved's peril more than usual.
News
He shut the door of his cabin slowly, gently lifting it on its hinges as he slid it into its place. It was an old house; three generations of one mortal family had dwelt there before him. He had learned all the tricks that such dwellings required. He knew that the front door must be lifted slightly before it would fit its frame, he knew that he must shake the windows back and forth before he could open them - not that he had much need to do so during the winter.
But every time he began to think that he understood the ways of these mortal men and women he would find some new oddity. Just a week prior he had learned that Iulan, a boy of no more than seventeen years, had married the daughter of Uston, a girl no more than fifteen years old. Among the elves it was common for men to wait more than three hundred years to marry, even when they had already known who it was they intended to marry. There was another young coupling, he recalled, Anana and Ulo, who had just born their second child, though neither of them had reached their twentieth year. The elves might live the better part of a millennium before bearing children.
It seemed obvious enough to him that this was due to their short lives. Rabbits and mice bear offspring even faster than humans, he knew. Humans were so like unto elves - yet so different at the same time. Still, it was one thing to know the reasons for a thing, and another to understand them. All the passion he felt toward Dalia seemed like a candle before the intensity felt among these people. Two weeks ago a man had broken his neighbor's nose for speaking to his daughter out of turn. He smiled as he thought about it; such a feud might last half a century among the elves, before it was settled.
The long-suffering of the elves was not altogether a blessing, he knew. It put them at a disadvantage when they were forced to defend their rule against mortal rebels. The white hot will of a man bound to die within a span of sixty years was nothing to be trifled with. An elf might practice a trade for as long and still bear no shame in calling himself an apprentice. But these men, doomed to die, did not have time to let their anger stew. There was nothing like this among the elves, though, Thuruvis thought, there was also nothing among the mortals like the Fateful spirit of Lord Pelas and his servants, whose plots and plans encompassed centuries.
Clouds soon passed over the sun, shutting out what little warmth its bright glow had provided. The land darkened, the colors fled. 'A fitting scene for labor,' the elf thought as he picked up his ax and walked toward the wood-pile. He split wood for nearly an hour before deciding he had enough for a cartload. But he must first get a donkey to pull the cart.
Uston, who lived less than a mile from him, had offered to lend him his own donkey so long as he got a portion of the firewood at no cost.
Wiping the freezing sweat from his brow, he pulled his cloak tight around his body and started down the Snake Road, so named for the way it bent and curved as it wound down the mountain toward the River. The people of the Nook had no other name for this stream, and the elves of Sunlan had never troubled themselves to name all the tributaries of the Esthalon. 'If ever I return to Sunlan I will name it the Nook River,' he laughed within himself, 'That should please their historians and sages,' he said sarcastically.
The Snake Road was not an easy roa
d; sometimes it seemed to cascade down the mountain like a waterfall more than carve its way through the land. A cart could be brought up and down along it only by a donkey - a donkey with a good strong man to guide it. Thuruvis had made such trips before, delivering firewood to his neighbors down the mountain and bringing the cart back to his house before once more leading the donkey to Uston's house. It was the last part of this routine that he most resented. The donkey, he learned, had belonged to the house's old masters, and the donkey knew it. He could bring the donkey from the top of the hill to the bottom without difficulty, so long as the beast knew he was at work. But the moment he was relieved of the weight of the cart, he would plant his hooves and refuse to return to Uston. Uston was not a cruel man, Thuruvis knew, and the donkey certainly had a better life on his property than he would have with him. But the beast remembered something about the place, and would only return to his new master with a great deal of coaxing, prodding, whipping and cursing.
'Someone was looking for yeh!' shouted Uston as he left his house. He started toward the road, but then hesitated. He was an old man with no more than ten teeth in his mouth and a long gray beard that reached almost to his worn leather belt. Such features were never seen on elves; this was another thing Thuruvis had to get used to. He ran around the house and returned instantly with Borse, the donkey, tied to a strong rope.
'Who?' Thuruvis asked, drawing close enough to receive the beast. He patted the animal gently and gripped the rope firmly. Borse had a habit of running away the moment he realized the rope that bound him was not secure. He would not run far, though. It was just something he liked to do. Thuruvis shook his head at the stubborn animal.
'I don't know,' Uston said. 'It was one of the king's men,' he said. The people of the Nook called all elves 'king's men,' regardless of their station. They also assumed that they all knew one another, and were all of one kindred.
Thuruvis' heart sunk at the news. 'This cannot be good,' he thought. He had told only Onroa the healer where he would be going, and the man had agreed only to reveal his whereabouts if the circumstances were desperate. He could not imagine what would have induced the elf to come find him here. For a moment he felt panic overtake him, thinking perhaps that some news had come regarding Lord Pelas and his fleet. Driving the thought from his mind, he looked again at Uston. 'What did you say to him?'
'I said I did not know such a one,' Uston grinned toothlessly. 'He didn't like me much, I think. He said if I heard anything to send you to Mara's.
'He is staying at the inn, then? I mean, at the travel house?'
'Umhumph,' Uston grunted in affirmation.
'Maybe I'll stop by Mara's then,' he said, leaving the old man with his curiosity unsated.
'And don't forget to drop a few bundles of wood my way, master elf,' Uston reminded him.
Thuruvis nodded and took the donkey back toward the path. The man was vile by the standards of the elves, but Thuruvis could not think of any of the Immortals who were truer friends to him than this man. It was not as though they were close by any account. They scarcely spoke one to the other. But among the elves Thuruvis had not known any man to be as thoughtful as these mortals. There were no grand ambitions and cunning designs rattling about in their skulls.
Thuruvis returned his attention to his work, leading the donkey with a firm hand up to his house.
It was not until he had passed Uston's house for the second time, this time with a cartful of lumber, that he began to think on what Uston had said. The sight of the house brought the old man's raspy voice to his mind. 'He is staying at Mara's?' Thuruvis asked himself. 'This means he must have some ground for expecting me to be here.' He thought, then, that it must be Onroa who sought him. 'But how could the healer get away from Centan, when every other day a soldier breaks his fist or foot during training?' He considered for a moment whether he ought to just forget the whole thing and continue with his route. Then the thought came to him, 'Why didn't they come to my house?' If they had gone as far up the hill as Uston's, why should they not walk another half-mile to the Head of the Snake Road?
He made his first delivery to an old widow named Abela, whose husband had died nearly twenty years ago. As he approached her cabin he noticed a pair of greedy eyes peering out through her curtains. He was of half a mind to pass her by, but if he did not leave the wood, she would chop some herself. He could not bare even the thought of letting the old woman do such work. He led the donkey off the road toward her door. He took as much wood as he could carry and laid it near her front door. The moment he rose from placing the lumber, the door creaked open. The widow Abela stood in the doorframe with a starved expression on her face.
'Good afternoon, Abela,' he said with a polite bow.
She smiled and cackled at his gesture, and then waved her arms, saying, 'Come in, come in!'
Trying to sound as polite as possible, he said, 'No, I had a late beginning today, and I still have to bring the donkey back to Uston before sunset.'
She sighed, 'Oh he should just give you that stupid donkey; he likes you better anyway.'
Thuruvis smiled. 'I don't think Borse likes anybody.'
She seemed to find this even funnier than his bow. When her laughter had subsided, she asked in a more serious tone, 'Did you meet your friend?'
'My friend?' he asked.
'There was a King's-man looking for you earlier,' she answered. 'I told him that you lived at the Head of the Snake.'
'You told him where I lived?' he asked, surprised.
Abela looked terrified, as if she just realized she had made a terrible mistake. 'I am sorry, my lord,' she began, remembering that this man newly come to live in the Nook was an elf. 'I just thought-'
'It is alright,' Thuruvis said, trying to comfort her. Whatever this visitor intended, and whatever would come to pass, there was no need, he thought, for his neighbors to feel guilty about speaking the truth in innocence. 'I believe it probably is a friend,' he fibbed.
'He said that he was to be staying at Mara's,' Abela added, now sounding as serious as the grave.
'I thank you,' Thuruvis said, pleasing her with another stiff bow. 'Now I must see to my work.'
With those words he left her, returning to the road to continue with his deliveries, a hot berry pie in his left hand for his wages.
The sun was already beginning to set by the time he made his last delivery. It was just another mile to Mara's, but he still had Borse and an empty cart. Whoever it was that sought him would have to wait. If it were urgent enough Thuruvis was certain they would have come to him at his house, and not simply passed him an invitation through his simple neighbors. It was not Onroa, he felt sure. The healer would not have come unless it were urgent, and if it were urgent he would have come straight to the Serpent's Head to find him. He could not imagine who else might be searching for him. He turned Borse and the cart toward the Serpent's Head and made his way back up the mountain.
It was dark by the time he reached Uston's house. The old man took Borse by ropes and dragged him back to his stable. 'Come on you devil!' he shouted, 'I'll beat you till tomorrow morning if you keep at this foolishness!' He said a great many other things, curses, oaths and threats, until at last the beast was tied up and fed.
Thuruvis dropped two bundles of wood on his doorstep and turned toward the road. He stretched his arms above his head and sighed. The cold air filled his lungs and rushed up beneath his shirt, making him shiver. With the prospect of a warm fire and a soft bed before him he all but forgot that there was a strange elf searching for him.
Uston, returning from the stable with a sheepish grin on his wrinkled face, reminded him. 'Did you find the King's man?' he asked hopefully.
'No,' Thuruvis said, torn between his exhaustion and his curiosity.
When he gave no further response, Uston came closer and said, almost in a whisper, 'He came by again.'
'When?' Thuruvis asked with a hint of alarm in his voice.
> 'Not more than an hour ago,' Uston replied cautiously. He didn't come to the house, but I saw him down the road a ways. When Ames, my eldest, saw him, he turned and marched straight on back to Mara's.'
'If he wants to find me so badly, why doesn't he just come to the Head?' Thuruvis asked, half to himself.
'I don't know,' Uston puzzled, scratching his balding head. 'But if he meant you ill, he wouldn't ask so many people, and he wouldn't tell you where to find him.'
'That is true enough,' Thuruvis said thoughtfully. As he said this he saw three sets of curious eyes peering from within Uston's house.
Uston grinned. 'The whole lot of them are riled up; they want to know why the elves have come to the Nook.'
'Maybe I should see this King's man after all,' the elf sighed.
'Best of fortune to ya,' Uston said to him soberly.
Thuruvis thanked him and then turned his tired feet back toward the road. 'At least it is downhill to Mara's,' he thought to himself resignedly.
At Mara's
Mara's house was the closest thing to an inn that one might hope to find in the Nook. It was really just a really large house. It was built nearly a hundred years ago by a rich merchant who had hoped to establish a business in the region. But the hardships of the land proved too much for his ambitions, and he abandoned the place.
Properly speaking, the land still belonged to him - or to his descendants rather. But the man never returned to the Nook, nor had any sons or grandsons ever come to manage the estate. Eventually the elders decided that the building ought to be used for something rather than merely occupying perfectly good farmland. Many proposals were brought forward at that time, but the widow Mara had her husband's gold to support her plans. She bought the land, rented out the farm, and opened up an inn. There were only four rooms to rent (the fifth was her own), but only once had they all been filled at the same time. What remained of her husband's gold, together with a share of the land's crops, was enough to support her in the lean times.
Mara's was a tall building compared to the simple houses that one would usually find in the Nook. It was almost as tall as it was wide and long, making it look like a big wooden box with windows. There was a tall stairwell leading up to a wooden door on the southern face of the house. The stairs rose half-way up the building so that the door entered into the second floor of the inn. The first floor acted as a cellar.
In Centan an inn such as this would be filled with the sound of laughter or music, but here the loudest cry came from the cold mountain wind. What noise there was within ceased the moment Thuruvis entered the nearly empty dining hall. It was only on festival days that Mara expected more than the town drunkards to enter her inn. She never would have expected to see Thuruvis enter her house were it not for the fact that her only guest was this strange elf everyone had been gossiping about. Her dark eyes lifted from the mug she was polishing and fixed themselves expectantly upon Thuruvis. 'Mara,' he said with a polite nod.
'Master Thuruvis,' she said with a hint of a curtsy. Thuruvis had given up the hope that the people would learn that he was no Master or lord. To the men and women of the Nook, all elves were King's men, and the king was their master, though he had not ever troubled them or aided them.
Mara was a strong woman with thick features. She handled most of her stock herself, relying upon her servant Olin only where one person alone, be they man or woman, would not be strong enough for the burden.
'I trust it's him you've come for,' she said pointing out a dark hooded figure sitting in the corner of the dining hall. The dark form did not look up, though he certainly must have been aware of Thuruvis' arrival. He continued to sit as though he were made of stone, only the gentle rising of his shoulders betraying the fact that he was a living breathing soul and not a man carved out of stone. At Thuruvis' approach, however, he seemed to grow uneasy.
'You are not Onroa?' Thuruvis said as he approached. 'Yet I bid him tell no man where I had gone. How then can any citizen of Sunlan find me, an elf of no regard, in the Nook of all places?'
'You should not feel disappointed in the healer,' a cold voice replied. 'He kept the secret well, but you cannot expect him to conceal such a matter from me.' The elf tossed back his cloak, revealing a head of long black hair and piercing dark eyes. Dark hair, as I have mentioned, was very rare among the elves.
Thuruvis gasped, reaching for his sword before realizing that he no longer wore his weapon. The people of the Nook were not warriors, and they were greatly alarmed when first he arrived in their land with a sword tied to his belt. His first attempts at commerce had gone awry due to the fact that the people with whom he would do business were terrified by the weapon. He had given up wearing it because they seemed to think they were being robbed when he meant to trade with them.
'Dalta,' he said coldly, omitting the title of lord.
'I have not come to trouble you,' his old master said calmly. He paused for almost a minute, uneasily searching for the right words. 'I did not know the depth of my daughter's love for you,' he said, fighting back emotion. 'I drove her to it - I drove her to run away with Lord Pelas on his fool quest.'
Thuruvis said nothing. The last person he expected to find at Mara's inn was lord Dalta. If the elf had wanted to locate him, he might have sent any of his servants to do the job.
'Why have you come yourself, and not a servant?' Thuruvis asked, crossing his arms doubtfully. 'If you have not come to trouble me, then for what have you come? Just to visit?'
'I come because we have an interest in common,' Dalta said in a hushed voice.
'And you expect me to work for you? I finished my service in Onroa's apartments. By the time my wounds were healed, the time I was assigned to Centan had expired, according to the laws of Sunlan. I did not desert my post, and you have no claim upon me. Unless you obey different laws than those of Ijjan.'
'I cannot order you,' Dalta confirmed, 'at least, I cannot without the leave of my 'masters'.' He said that last word almost mockingly. 'We both care for her. I do not expect that you would ever find it within you to forgive - and for that reason I offer no apology. But if you are half the man I suspect you are, you will find it within yourself to cooperate.'
'What are you saying,' Thuruvis said frustratedly. 'You words dance around like firelight.'
'Dalele is in great peril,' Dalta said soberly.
'What!?' Thuruvis said, drawing close to Dalta quickly and bringing his voice to a whisper. 'Have you heard anything of the expedition? Has something happened to her. If one hair upon her head has been harmed I swear by everything good and evil that I shall-'
'That will not be necessary,' Dalta said calmly, but with sorrow upon his face. 'If anything happens to her I shall not need you to take my life away.'
Thuruvis looked at him with amazement. His anger was such that he could not accept that the elf had truly changed his mind. With all the trouble Dalta's pride had caused for both he and Dalia, however, he really didn't care how much his former master had changed. 'It is a pity you didn't care so much in the first place; then we needn't worry at all for her safety.'
Dalta rose from his seat in anger, grabbing Thuruvis by the cloak and pulling his face toward his own. 'I cared for her more than you know,' he spat. His dark eyes darted around the room. There were not a lot of people there, but each of them were now looking their way. 'I wanted the best for her!' he said through gritted teeth.
Thuruvis pushed him away and hissed, 'If I had brought my sword with me I would challenge you right here, in this very room. And I would not hold back for your honor's sake this time.'
Dalta sank back into his chair rubbing his forehead with his knuckle. 'Forget it,' he said with a weary voice. 'It doesn't matter. None of that matters; she is in peril. If either of us would pretend to care for her, then we must act, act together, and act now.'
'What are you saying,' Thuruvis hissed.
'The Dark Order,' Dalta replied his eyes full of in
tensity.
'You are going to have to start at the beginning; I have never even heard of such a thing.'
Dalta closed his eyes and nodded slightly. 'The Dark Order was given by Lord Agonas before the Fleet of Pelas departed. It is called so because it was given by Agonas, the dark son of Parganas, and because it was given in secret. Lord Pelas himself knows nothing of it, though it was in truth given for his sake.'
'What was the order?' Thuruvis asked.
'Do not ask this question lightly,' Dalta said, raising his eyebrows. 'To know is to decide, one way or the other, to know is to choose between life and death.'
'Speak on,' Thuruvis said, 'If I must know in order to help my Dalele, then speak on.'
'Do you know for what the elves came to Sunlan?' Dalta asked.
'Lord Pelas fled the jealousy of his father,' Thuruvis answered, as if there was no doubt that this was the case.
'It is as I had suspected,' Dalta said grimly. 'The newcomers have not been told.'
'Told what?' Thuruvis asked.
'We will have to start at the beginning,' Dalta said. He shifted in his chair as if in preparation for a long discourse.
'Lord Pelas came to Sunlan on a Doom Path,' he began.
Thuruvis lifted his head slightly with surprise.
'They did not tell us this in Lushlin,' he said, taking a chair at the table where Dalta sat. 'We were told only that he had been betrayed by Lord Parganas, and that Lohi and his servants were imperiled thereby.'
'You were imperiled,' Dalta affirmed. 'Lohi's sons were rebels against Alwan, and to gain the power to fulfill his path, Lord Pelas had need of them. First he joined them, but later he came to lead them.'
'But what of Agonas? Is he also on a Doom Path?' Thuruvis asked.
'Yes,' Dalta replied simply.
'What is their task?' Thuruvis asked.
Dalta paused for a moment, and then looked Thuruvis straight in the eyes. 'Their task is to take the throne of Sunlan for Lord Parganas.'
'Take Sunlan?' Thuruvis marveled. 'Lord Parganas himself could not do such a thing!'
'But if his sons expended all their powers - and make no mistake, their power is great - then it would be an easy thing for he who conquered the gods to march across the Esse and bring his dominion into the utter east, and from there, who can say?'
Thuruvis paused in thought for an instant, and then asked, 'There is but one throne in Sunlan. Yet two brothers vie for it together? Can this be?'
'I cannot say how it will end, any more than you,' Dalta shrugged. 'Agonas defers to his brother, treating him as the true lord over what was once the kingdom of Ilvas. But he is filled with the same fateful spirit, and even if he were content to allow Pelas the throne and the prize, Pelas would not suffer his rival to walk untroubled in his dominion. The two were rivals in the womb; do not think that they shall cease their strivings now. They shall be rivals unto the grave - be it the grave of one or both.'
'But whom do you serve?' Thuruvis asked doubtfully. 'I was led to believe that Lord Pelas was your master, but now you speak of a Dark Order, and Agonas.'
'I serve Dalta,' he said, speaking of himself, 'And Dalta serves the fair Ele and her daughter - my daughter, Dalele.'
'Then what concern is it of yours what happens to these two brothers? Let them drown, and be done with it.'
'Let it be even as you have said,' Dalta said. He paused, then explained, 'If they both perish we shall live our lives as Sunlanders, and see what Fate has in store for this great nation. If there were some way that I could ensure this result, I would not hesitate. But Fate bends for these men; I have never seen the like. We must bend with it, or we shall be stripped bare by the force of their destiny. They will return, and they will turn against Sunlan. If Pelas has his way it will be within the century; if Agonas has his will done, it will follow nigh upon the day of their return.'
'And this puts Dalele in danger?' Thuruvis asked, 'Such danger that I am expected to forget your role in our miseries and serve you once again.'
'If the sons of Parganas succeed in their plot, then all that is wedded to Sunlan shall pass away. If they fail, Sunlan shall see to it that all their servants are bound or slain.'
'Dalele,' Thuruvis whispered. 'What is the Dark Order?'
'Are you certain you wish to know?' Dalta asked once more.
'You know as well as I do that it is already too late for such concerns.' Thuruvis' face grew red with fury as he spoke, 'and you know that if I were not willing to risk all for her that I would not have let you humiliate me in the first place.'
Dalta nodded. 'The Dark Order is this: Muster the men of Ilvas; renew the pledges of Pelas' servants, and be prepared to strike at the throat of Ijjan and his power at a moment's notice.'
Thuruvis' eyes grew wide with astonishment. 'He means to overthrow Sunlan so soon?'
'I have already said as much,' Dalta affirmed.
'Is such a thing possible?'
'Much will depend upon their journey,' Dalta answered, 'If they return in glory and triumph, then it is quite possible. They will have gained the favor of Ijjan, much to his loss. But whatever happens, whether they return in defeat or victory, or whether they return at all, we must do what can be done for Dalele.'
Thuruvis emptied himself of all emotion. His mind became callous and calculating. He said, 'True, we must do what we can for Dalele.' A cruel grin twisted the corner of his mouth. 'But if Pelas and his brother do not return, then all that remains for me is revenge.'
Dalta's face grew white for an instant, but as he thought on it he seemed to accept it. 'I have no complaint against this,' he said. 'But if Dalele is lost, you will need to take your vengeance swiftly, for I shall take up your cause as well.'
'Let us be about our work then,' Thuruvis said, taking a deep breath. Dalta rose from his seat and extended his hand toward his old servant. It was a gesture of equality, such as the lords of the elves did not make toward their inferiors. Thuruvis stared at him for a moment, unsure of what he meant by it.
He took Dalta's arm by the elbow and Dalta gripped his own elbow. 'No longer are you my servant,' Dalta said.
'No longer,' Thuruvis affirmed.