Dragon Knight - The Ancestor Gods Saga Book 2

10. The Price of Hate

I was settling down to my first decent meal in a fortnight (my mother's homecooked stew with dumplings and fresh bread) when Tylesin walked back through the door of the house with a grim look on his face. I called to him from the main hall and he headed towards me.

"Has She appeared to you?" I asked in a low voice.

The room was empty aside from us, but you never knew who might be in the next room or walking past. The Creatoress needed to remain a secret from my family until I had had a chance to speak to my grandfather.

"No. It was not Her," Tylesin replied.

He did not offer further information, so I nodded to the pot of food keeping warm in the hearth.

"Help yourself. It is a lot better than travel rations."

Tylesin did help himself and then joined me at the table, sitting on the bench the opposite side to me.

"Where are Lexon and Gebert?" he asked.

"I don't know," I answered honestly.

Lexon had been gone when I came back into the house and I was not inclined to go searching for him. Life was already too complicated between us. He had made his choice and we would both have to abide by it. As for Gebert, I did not really care where he was.

"How is your grandfather?" Tylesin asked next, his voice softening.

"He has a long way to go before he is recovered, but he will live," I said. "I think Hartnor rather rattled everyone."

"He rattled me, that's for sure," Tylesin pulled a face. "There is a part of me that is wondering if all of this was pure coincidence."

"What else could it have been?" I asked.

Tylesin did not have an immediate answer. Then his face grew longer.

"Some of the gods messing with us," he suggested. "Maybe they are not as ignorant of the Creatoress as we suppose and they are deliberately throwing us all together to see what happens."

"That seems unlikely."

"You have never met the gods," Tylesin shook his head. "They have always meddled in the matters of the mortal world. They get bored otherwise. Why should this be any different?"

"I prefer to think I have a little more say over my life than that," I answered.

I watched him for a while out of the corner of my eye as he ate. He seemed to have calmed down from his earlier unease, so I dared to ask him about it.

"If it was not the Creatoress who put such a grim look on your face?"

Tylesin did not look up from his meal.

"I had an encounter with a lad in the town," he said. "It was unfortunate."

"What sort of encounter?" I asked, wondering what trouble Tylesin had managed to get himself into in such a short span of time. "I thought your talent was for avoiding such issues with your charm."

"Sometimes you cannot charm someone, at least not completely," Tylesin replied. "Not when they are so filled with grief and anger. The lad did not say his name, but he was the son of Isbold."

"Isbold," I sighed. "The watchman incinerated by Hartnor. The boy is called Fennic. A good lad, but fiery."

"Has he family other than his father?"

"No. His mother died some winters ago. Even my mother's healing powers could not aid her. Mortal bodies are not as robust as those who carry a touch of the divine in them. I know Fennic was devastated when she passed and angered my mother could not save her."