to the south plunges into the heart of the Muliel Forest where giant firs thrust into the sky with such height and with branches bristling so thick with plump needles that they cast the wanderer into an eternal evening at noonday. Feathered ferns and wide leaved water plants wet the boots and cloaks of those that pass with dew that continually falls to soft, damp earth.
“Our road lies northward. Here the path runs out into an open plain of waving green grass where once mighty herds of elk and deer ran with abandon, hooves striking up a thunder in the air. Low clouds thread through the jagged peaks of the Far Reach Mountains to the west, falling as they pass under the fire of the sunset sky to cover the land in a soft haze that thickens in the night into a blanket of fog.“
Maewen turned to peer into the north where the haze gathered. “I can only hope that some of those herds remain. We need food.”
The half-elf’s turn toward the practical broke the spell created by her descriptions, Geoff scribbling with inhuman speed across the pages to capture her words.
“I long to venture these paths again,” Maewen continued, “and if you should mourn anything, it is that you will tread only one way and likely never see the others.”
“Marvelous, Maewen,” Geoff complimented her, face happy for the first time since his forced marriage. “I think your eloquent descriptions will inspire caravan loads of people to journey here after the Unification.”
Maewen frowned. “Then please strike what I said from your record. Such a crowd would surely ruin the place.”
She stalked off to scout around before darkness and mist obscured her view completely.
“I don’t think she’ll ever like me again.” Geoff said glumly after closing his book and arranging his other implements within his cloak.
“Maewen or Fenna?” the Chalaine inquired softly.
“Fenna.”
“Give her time, Geoff. She was very fond of you before the unfortunate events on the wedding night. Fenna is stubborn and can be petulant when hurt. Be patient. The storm will blow itself out.”
“Thank you, Chalaine. I know it is hard for her losing a man such as Gen. If she loved him, then loving me will not be easy. Gen and I are as different as a peacock and a falcon.”
“True,” the Chalaine agreed. “But honestly, I believe she is better suited to you than him.”
“Do you mean it?”
“I do, and I know her as well as any.”
“Your words bring me comfort,” Geoff said, “but I wish I could do something to speed the storm’s passing. Every day I live with her scorn is a day boiling in agony.”
“Well,” the Chalaine said, squeezing his arm as she turned to go, “you are a bard, and if sweet words—and sincere ones—are a way to a woman’s heart, then you are eminently qualified to negotiate the trail, however thorny it may be at the moment.”
Fenna looked away quickly as the Chalaine returned. A chill washed over the party as breezes blown in from the plain to the north pushed them deeper into their cloaks. Fenna’s eyes flashed angrily as the Chalaine reclined on her bedroll.
“How can you speak with him?” she whispered angrily, trying to keep Dason from overhearing.
“Why shouldn’t I? Has he done something wrong?”
Fenna folded her arms. “An honorable man would have died rather than accept a forced marriage to a woman who doesn’t love him. If Gen and Geoff’s places were reversed, I would not be married now.”
The Chalaine shook her head. “No. You seem to forget that Gen’s life was in the balance. Think, Fenna! By marrying you, Geoff was attempting to save an honorable man, and however you feel about him, his feelings for you are obvious. Why should he die when his life could secure so much good, even amid woe?”
“Well I thought you at least would understand what it is like to be forced to marry someone you don’t love, but I suppose there is one difference between us—you have never really loved
“Our road lies northward. Here the path runs out into an open plain of waving green grass where once mighty herds of elk and deer ran with abandon, hooves striking up a thunder in the air. Low clouds thread through the jagged peaks of the Far Reach Mountains to the west, falling as they pass under the fire of the sunset sky to cover the land in a soft haze that thickens in the night into a blanket of fog.“
Maewen turned to peer into the north where the haze gathered. “I can only hope that some of those herds remain. We need food.”
The half-elf’s turn toward the practical broke the spell created by her descriptions, Geoff scribbling with inhuman speed across the pages to capture her words.
“I long to venture these paths again,” Maewen continued, “and if you should mourn anything, it is that you will tread only one way and likely never see the others.”
“Marvelous, Maewen,” Geoff complimented her, face happy for the first time since his forced marriage. “I think your eloquent descriptions will inspire caravan loads of people to journey here after the Unification.”
Maewen frowned. “Then please strike what I said from your record. Such a crowd would surely ruin the place.”
She stalked off to scout around before darkness and mist obscured her view completely.
“I don’t think she’ll ever like me again.” Geoff said glumly after closing his book and arranging his other implements within his cloak.
“Maewen or Fenna?” the Chalaine inquired softly.
“Fenna.”
“Give her time, Geoff. She was very fond of you before the unfortunate events on the wedding night. Fenna is stubborn and can be petulant when hurt. Be patient. The storm will blow itself out.”
“Thank you, Chalaine. I know it is hard for her losing a man such as Gen. If she loved him, then loving me will not be easy. Gen and I are as different as a peacock and a falcon.”
“True,” the Chalaine agreed. “But honestly, I believe she is better suited to you than him.”
“Do you mean it?”
“I do, and I know her as well as any.”
“Your words bring me comfort,” Geoff said, “but I wish I could do something to speed the storm’s passing. Every day I live with her scorn is a day boiling in agony.”
“Well,” the Chalaine said, squeezing his arm as she turned to go, “you are a bard, and if sweet words—and sincere ones—are a way to a woman’s heart, then you are eminently qualified to negotiate the trail, however thorny it may be at the moment.”
Fenna looked away quickly as the Chalaine returned. A chill washed over the party as breezes blown in from the plain to the north pushed them deeper into their cloaks. Fenna’s eyes flashed angrily as the Chalaine reclined on her bedroll.
“How can you speak with him?” she whispered angrily, trying to keep Dason from overhearing.
“Why shouldn’t I? Has he done something wrong?”
Fenna folded her arms. “An honorable man would have died rather than accept a forced marriage to a woman who doesn’t love him. If Gen and Geoff’s places were reversed, I would not be married now.”
The Chalaine shook her head. “No. You seem to forget that Gen’s life was in the balance. Think, Fenna! By marrying you, Geoff was attempting to save an honorable man, and however you feel about him, his feelings for you are obvious. Why should he die when his life could secure so much good, even amid woe?”
“Well I thought you at least would understand what it is like to be forced to marry someone you don’t love, but I suppose there is one difference between us—you have never really loved
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