by Jeff Inlo
"I need to find out what happened to them," the delver declared. "By tomorrow morning, I'll be out in Dark Spruce searching for answers. Are you going to want to know what I find?"
Sy felt as if he was being maneuvered. He decided against playing along. He meant what he said about breaking his reliance.
"What you do from this point on is your business," Sy responded coldly, "as long as it doesn't interfere with the safety of this town. As for the elves, I'm going to send a messenger to Connel. I will inform Enin of what happened here tonight, and I'm going to request the assistance of Holli Brances. That's how I'm going to handle this. As far as I'm concerned, this matter is concluded."
The statement was as abrupt as it was final, and Ryson decided that suited him as well. He turned about and left the command post.
As Sy watched the delver leave, he wondered if he just made one of the biggest mistakes of his life. He looked to Sergeant Klusac and made a very honest admission.
"Well, I didn't handle that very well."
"No, you didn't," the sergeant conceded, but then added to that concession. "Then again, neither did he. He's got no right to question your judgment, and anyway you slice it, that's what he was doing here tonight."
Sy reflected on that thought, and for one moment, tried to examine the events that transpired from a different viewpoint.
"He doesn't want to kill. I knew that when I asked for his help. Why was I surprised?"
"That, I can't answer, but were you really surprised?"
"No, but I was angry. I can't lie about that."
"Angry doesn't mean you're wrong," Klusac offered. "It doesn't mean either of you are wrong. You're just in different positions. He sees things his way, you see things yours. As long as you're looking out for the best interests of this town..."
"I believe I am," Sy interrupted. "I honestly do. What do you think?"
"I wouldn't serve with you if I didn't."
"Thanks, but what did we lose tonight?"
"Maybe something we never really had," Klusac suggested. "I can't dismiss Ryson's abilities, but they're his, not ours, and he's always done with them as he saw fit. Maybe you did make the right decision tonight, maybe we have become too reliant on the delver."
Chapter 6
Ryson wanted to immediately rush out of Burbon's western gate and into Dark Spruce Forest. Despite the rain, the goblins, and the two river rogues lingering about the perimeter, the mystery regarding the elves pulled at him like the clutching grasp of a hungry shag. Many things could spark his delver curiosity, but an issue of that magnitude could overwhelm his attention and divert him from any other concern.
What happened to the elves?
That was the question that repeated itself over and over in Ryson's mind. The elves were gone; that was the simple admission of an enormous goblin, but it became a near obsession for the delver. Okyiq described the event as if the elves had just vanished like an early morning fog, but Ryson could not imagine how an entire camp could simply disappear. He knew there had to be something more to the story.
For any delver, it was the perfect puzzle. It was not a fool's errand or a delver hunt with a thousand possible scenarios. Ryson could not deny the assertion that something had happened to the elf camp, but he would not accept the premise that they had simply faded out of existence.
There were answers in the forest that would shed greater light on the mystery, of that he was sure. He only had to find them, and such a quest always drove a delver's spirit. He had his senses, and there were trails to follow. The elves might have been gone, but that was neither an assumption nor an explanation. The thought of the pursuit filled him with anticipation as it would stimulate every trait within him that was pure delver.
As he considered the few details, he understood the simplest explanation would create its own course to navigate. He knew the elf camp moved about with regularity and always managed to conceal its presence from curious humans and delvers alike. Perhaps the elves simply migrated to a different part of the forest, or perhaps they fled an immediate threat. No matter where the facts hid, he would find them, and they would lead him to the elves.
The desire to race into the forest and discover every clue was strong enough to wash away the gnawing concern over his confrontation with Sy. He was not happy about the discussion they had, or the results. He faced both anger and sadness over the harsh words they traded, and the apparent break in their friendship left him hollow. He did not hold any great animosity toward the captain of the guard. Ryson understood Sy's position, but the delver wished Sy would appreciate his own point of view.
He never meant to undermine the captain's authority, but he could not dismiss his own principles. It was a complex dilemma, one that required greater consideration than a single argument after a difficult night of limited combat, but such was the course of events. Sy had made what Ryson believed was a hasty decision, and the delver did not wish to leave Burbon on such a discomforting note, but such an action appeared as the only option. Sy had ended the discussion, and further argument was as pointless as a rounded stone from the bottom of a river bed.
He was convinced that everything could be overcome with time, and the best way to spend that time was to do what he loved. Exploring the forest was exactly what he needed, and investigating with purpose made it seem as if fate was offering him a path for resolution. Despite what Sy had said, the delver knew he could still help the town; he wanted to help the town. It was never his intention to put himself ahead of anyone else or to abandon Burbon.
As he ran across the muddy streets and through the slowly relenting rains, he looked to the west with growing anticipation. In his mind, he even mapped out a path to the nearest gate. For a brief instant, he wondered if the soldiers would open it for him. There were still two river rogues outside the wall. It wouldn't matter, of course. He could climb the barrier in a heartbeat if it was necessary. He could be in Dark Spruce in mere moments. All he had to do was turn to the west.
Another power, however, forced him to stay, held him to Burbon like a great iron anchor that kept the greatest sailing ships stable even during the fiercest of storms. Despite the growing rush of curiosity and the ache within him to reach the center of the mystery, the connection to his wife kept him within the walls of the town. The forest could wait until morning, until he talked to her and explained everything that had happened and everything he planned to do.
He rushed to the Borderline Inn. He found Linda sitting alone at a table in the corner just staring at an empty glass. He believed she had been waiting for him. It was certainly late, and the evening must have been tiring for her.
"Sorry that took so long," he offered as he moved quickly to her side. "I have a lot to tell you. Do you want to stay here for a while and talk, or head for home?"
At first, his wife did not even acknowledge him. When she finally looked up, she did so with a distant expression. Her eyes would not fix upon his. Instead, she glanced about the corners of the inn as if unwilling to focus on one spot.
"So you finally decided to show up?" she asked.
Her tone was mostly emotionless, but it seemed to hold the slight edge of annoyance, and the delver became immediately defensive.
"It wasn't my fault. Sy wanted to talk. That's one of the things..."
Linda didn't let him finish.
"It's never your fault," she responded. "Even when it is."
It was not any angry accusation or an emotional outburst. She made the statement with cold indifference.
Ryson was more surprised than upset at the assertion.
"My fault?"
"Yes, your fault." She didn't shout, didn't even slightly raise her voice. She spoke in more of a low grumble. "You were gone, called away... again. I didn't know how long you would be. I'm stuck in here wondering what I should do, and you're out running around in the rain."
"I'm not sure I understand. I know it's late, but..."
"I don't want to hear the excuse.
There's always one excuse or another. You left me here... alone... for too long."
"I didn't leave you alone. The place was full."
"Is it full now?"
Ryson looked around. Some of the tables and a few seats at the bar were occupied, but most were empty.
"No, but you're hardly alone."
"Do you see anyone at this table with me?"
"No, but I'm here now."
"And that's what I'm talking about. I had to wait for you... alone."
Ryson's confusion increased.
"I'm still not sure what you're mad about."
"Who said I was mad?"
"You seem mad," Ryson replied.
Linda just let out a heavy, disgusted breath and looked down at the table.
Ryson stood beside her at a loss for words. They weren't drawing any attention. It wasn't as if they were shouting at each other. It would appear to anyone that looked in their direction that they were having a normal conversation. He just didn't understand it. He wondered if he should continue standing or sit down next to her. He also wondered if she even wanted to hear what he had to say.
"Alright, I left you alone for too long," he allowed as he finally sat down. He wasn't simply humoring her. He was acknowledging that he could have met up with her before he talked to Sy. He could have even checked on her before he went to deal with the goblins. He was a delver and his speed allowed for choices others might not have. Perhaps that was all she wanted, a sign that he was concerned about her, and maybe he had not shown enough of that concern. Still, there was more to say and more she needed to know.
"Do you want to hear what happened?" he wondered aloud.
"I don't know, do I?"
Ryson wasn't sure how to answer her question. He didn't have great news. Much of what had happened was rather discouraging. A corporal's carelessness led to an avoidable injury, goblins had broken through the town's defenses, innocent civilians were killed, elves were reported as missing, and Sy had basically dismissed him from any official duty; certainly a long list of unpleasantries, but he had to tell her what happened.
"Well, it's important," he finally offered. "While I was searching for the rogues, there was a goblin raid to the south. They got through the gate."
Linda replied quickly through a sarcastic chuckle.
"Rogues and goblins? You're out there running around with rogues and goblins. I'm in here with no idea what's happening and you're wondering why I'm upset. You could have been killed, and I would have never known it."
Her reply was totally unexpected. They often discussed the dangers he faced, but she had accepted it in the past, at least she said she had. He was a delver. He explored the land, and since the magic returned, the land was filled with new perils. She had told him she would never get used to it, but she claimed she understood it would always be part of their lives.
What made the quarrel all the more baffling was that the dangers he faced that evening were relatively minor; a goblin raid and a handful or rogues hardly compared to some of the hazards he faced in the past. He also never left Burbon that night. It wasn't as if he was exploring the Colad Mountains to the north or any of the hills throughout Uton that he loved so much. The battle he faced that night all fell upon the streets of their home and he decided to point out as much.
"It's not like you had no idea what was going on. I never went outside the walls tonight."
"You might as well have gone all the way to the coast for all that it mattered to me. I was still stuck in here and I had no idea what was happening to you. What difference does it make if you stayed inside the walls or not?"
Ryson looked at his wife wondering if she was suddenly just joking with him, but he knew asking that question would be a monumental mistake. While she continued to maintain a calm voice and demeanor, she certainly appeared serious. Whatever was bothering her was no joke.
"There's a big difference," Ryson countered. "Everything was happening right here. The towers were signaling everything. I taught you how to read the signals, you had to know I took care of the rogues. It was signaled across town."
"I can't spend my time reading tower signals. I have other things to do."
"Alright, you were busy with people here. I understand that, but some of the people in the tavern had to watch for the signals, every one is supposed to remain informed to the alert. A lot of people know how to read the signs. People like to know what's happening. I'm sure it was called out."
"Oh, like I listen to every thing a bunch of drunks shout out."
"Drunks?"
"You think they don't drink here?"
Ryson felt the question had no relevance. Of course people drank at a tavern, but that didn't make them incapable of keeping track of the emergency. He kept trying to draw a clear line to his wife's concern, but he felt she kept blurring the picture.
"Just because they drink doesn't make them drunks. You and I know most of the people that come here, a lot of them are our friends. They're not drunks."
"Some of them are, or are you going to tell me there's not a single drunk that comes in here?"
"I'm not going to tell you that."
"Well then, how am I supposed to know who's saying what?"
The argument was ludicrous and Ryson knew it. Before he left the inn, he saw that people were taking the warning seriously. People came off the streets immediately. Inside the inn, guards were set at the windows and doors. No one would have allowed a drunk to simply shout out absurdities.
Realizing that the discussion had taken a bizarre turn, Ryson decided to move on. Instead of pondering the deficiencies of Linda's argument, he tried to determine exactly what was bothering her.
"So you're upset because you thought something happened to me?"
"I'm not upset. I'm simply stating what you did tonight. You up and left. That's a simple fact."
"I didn't just up and leave. I was called out to help. Klusac came for me. Sy requested that I scout the town. You knew that."
"And you left me alone."
Alone.
She said it again, but it didn't make sense. He didn't leave her alone, and he was growing tired of the accusation.
"There were a lot of people here tonight," the delver noted. "I know that. I was here before I had to leave, remember?"
"I remember you leaving, that's what you do."
"You didn't seem to have a problem when I left."
"I was busy, too busy to tell you about my problems, and too busy to read a bunch of tower signals."
"Linda, what are you talking about?"
"If you can't figure it out, I'm not going to explain it to you."
"You're going to have to, because you're not making any sense."
"Oh, so now I'm the one not making sense? You go out running around in the rain after a bunch of fish monsters and then goblins... and I'm the one that doesn't make sense. That's almost funny."
"It's not funny at all," Ryson exclaimed. "You're starting to worry me."
"Well, then now you know what it feels like."
"Look, I do my best to let you know what's going on. We've had this discussion before. I don't want you worrying about me all the time, but you made it clear you want to know where I'm going. I do that when I can. I did that tonight, but we both know there's no way I can keep you updated of every single movement I make. It's just not possible. If anything, tonight you knew more than usual. If something happened to me here, in town, you would have heard about it immediately. You know that."
Linda did not respond. She picked up the glass in front of her, turned it over as if expecting something to flow out, but since it was empty, nothing happened. She just held the glass over the tabletop and stared at the open end with an expression of sadness.
Ryson waited, but he began to sense that Linda was not going to reply. He paused, uncertain of whether or not to continue, but he decided to do so in order to illustrate his position.
"I don't try to hide things from you. I tell you wh
ere and when I'm going, and the truth is, I have to leave again."
At this, Linda did not hesitate in responding.
"Why am I not surprised?"
She banged the glass down on the table, the first time she made any true display of frustration.
"Why are you so angry?" Ryson asked.
"This is not angry. You have no idea what angry is. This is reality, and the reality is that you left me here, and now you're going to leave again."
"Don't you want to know why?"
"Will it matter?"
"It might. You'll understand why I have to leave."
"If you think it will make you feel better, then by all means explain it to me."
She listened quietly as Ryson told her everything that had happened that evening. He told her of the rogues, the goblin raid, their large leader, and the argument he had with Sy. He had hoped she might be more understanding once he revealed he had already been through one dispute and a quarrel with her was not something he wanted to continue. If anything, he hoped for a bit of sympathy.
"So something must have happened to the elves," Ryson concluded. "That's why I'm going out tomorrow."
He did not get sympathy, not at all.
"Tomorrow? Not tonight?" she asked, but with little apparent emotion.
"I thought I would stay with you until morning."
"And that's supposed to make it easier?"
"I thought it might."
She looked down at her empty glass and then revealed her own thoughts. Once again, her words surprised the delver, but at least they revealed she had listened to everything he had said.
"If Sy isn't going to rely on you anymore, why do you even have to go? Why can't you just let him handle it?"
"I know those elves," Ryson revealed somewhat flustered. "Lief was from that camp. I can't just ignore what happened to them."
"Lief is dead."
The statement dropped from her mouth as a simple matter of fact, and the lack of tact brought out the delver's ire. It was clear in his tone as his patience began to thin and his emotions turned from confusion to irritation.
"I'm well aware of that."