Years before, William's Father, Vanion, had returned from the Calishan Wars a hero. The latest siege of Cowcal had been greatly helped by several victories he won. His spear and the weapons of his companions had seen the Calishans beaten at Desora. The memory of them being driven into the sea by a mere fragment of the Harlenorian army. It had been unforgettable. The sunlight was glinting off spearpoints as they closed on the enemy. The cries of dismay and triumph had been breathtaking. Though he'd nearly lost his life.

 

It was a sight he would remember, no matter how far he went in life. Alas, the attack had forced the siege of Cowcal to end early, but Artarq remained secure. The army had also taken much plunder and renown gathered.

 

And yet he was in no hurry to get home and tell the story in the hall of his Father. That was why he'd let Raynald convince him to journey to visit the manor of the De Chevlons. It was a very awkward situation, for him at least. He'd learned soon on his arrival that only some of the De Chevlons were as eager as Raynald to mend fences. As the party continued around him, he felt like Raynald had only invited him to offend his relatives.

 

It worked. Vanion kept getting icy glares from various members of the De Chevlons. A social person would have been able to win them over through sheer sincerity. But, unfortunately, he was not a social person.

 

"Feeling isolated in a crowd?" asked a familiar voice.

 

Vanion looked up to see Rusara leaning against a wall. The gray-skinned elf looked very beautiful after her fashion. Her violet dress suited her well. As did her silver earrings, an appealing change from the usual robes she wore. Yet she had chosen Raynald and not him.

 

"More or less," he admitted, "I don't see why Raynald even brought us here."

 

"You were looking for an excuse not to meet your family quite so soon," said Rusara. "Raynald didn't want to meet with his family and decided to use you to make a point."

 

"What point?" asked Vanion.

 

"I'm not sure," admitted Rusara, "that he still remembers their mistreatment of him. I gather there isn't much love between him and his brothers. After showing them all up in battle, it would add insult to injury to bring you here."

 

"An alliance between the Gabriels and the De Chevlons would be mighty," said Vanion. "You would think they would see past the fact."

 

"Power or not, blood seeks more blood," said Rusara. "When you leave here, I should avoid traveling alone. Some De Chevlon's are hotheaded and might decide to correct Raynald's error."

 

"So you aren't coming with me?" asked Vanion, feeling more alone than ever.

 

"I would like to see Carn Gable someday," admitted Rusara, "but I have been away from the Dusk Lands for decades. I do need to check in with my family."

 

"Yes," said Vanion. "Family does come first."

 

"Not for Raynald," noted Rusara, "or for you."

 

"Yes, I suppose so," said Vanion.

 

At that moment, the crowds shifted and parted. Vanion looked up to see the fairest woman he had ever seen. Her hair was wavy and dark, and her skin was light. She wore a silken white dress and walked with a grace that defied reason. Then Vanion saw the man on her arm, and Vanion almost cursed. He was far plainer than his wife, a very ordinary-looking sort. Nevertheless, Vanion tried and failed not to resent him.

 

"Who are they?" asked Vanion.

 

"Duke Margravine Borinius and his Duchess, Isabella," said Rusara. "He's the Lord of Brisgald, one of the most important and formidable fortresses-"

 

"I know what Brisgald is, Rusara," said Vanion.

 

"Right, right," said Rusara, "he can trace his lineage back to the first King of Antion. His wife is a cousin of the King. People of great influence."

 

"So I had guessed," said Vanion. "Why do you always tell people things that are common knowledge? I didn't recognize them initially, but I know who they are now."

 

"I'm trying to remind you of something important," said Rusara. "You shouldn't become interested in them."

 

"I'm not," said Vanion. "I just think I ought to speak with them."

 

Duke Borinius was speaking with Raynald now. They were getting on very well. Vanion parted company with Rusara and approached. He needed to figure out how to introduce himself. It would suit his standing to make a favorable impression with the Duke of Brisgald. He had to keep focused. Even so, he'd never been good at talking with people, and as he approached, he grew increasingly nervous.

 

He decided that he would go elsewhere. There was no sense in disturbing them. At that moment, Raynald looked up and saw him. "Ah, Vanion," he said. "I was just telling Duke Borinius some tales of our adventures."

 

"You seem to have had many of them," noted Borinius. "I've already heard of your victories in the Calishan Wars."

 

"There isn't much to tell," said Vanion, keeping his eyes off the Duchess. "I did my duty in what way seemed best. Raynald is the real swordmaster here."

 

"You belittle your talent," noted Borinius. "No others I have spoken to share your views. But, in my experience, men who command are not always those who fight well. With no disrespect to Raynald, of course."

 

"None taken," said Raynald, pleased to find someone who didn't judge him by his looks. "I prefer to think of myself as a blunt instrument. Vanion guides me to where I'll do the most damage once he sets me loose. We work well together."

 

"An uncommonly down-to-earth viewpoint." mused Borinius. "This is my wife, Isabella." Now, he had no choice but to look at the Duchess. As he took one elegant hand, Vanion found a lump forming in his throat. But, of course, it didn't help that she eyed him with a particular appreciation. "Milady, it is a pleasure."

 

"No, the pleasure is all mine," said Isabella. "I have heard such great tales of you and your companions? Tell me, are you, as some say, close with the Lady Rusara?"

 

Vanion wanted to avoid where this was heading. Not because the question seemed improper. It was more because of the disobedient fantasies that played across his mind. He was rescued from having to answer when Rusara herself appeared.

 

"You should not listen to rumors," said Rusara. "My relationship with Vanion is one of friendship. But, in truth, it is with Raynald that I am quite taken."

 

"Indeed?" asked Borinius, surprised. "You told stories to me when I was only a boy. I never thought you would be taken with anyone, let alone a... human." He sounded like he was about to say something else. Then his eyes glanced at the cloak, which concealed Raynald's withered arm.

 

Raynald let it pass. Vanion supposed he was used to it by now.

 

Isabella smiled in a manner that made his heart flutter. "I am glad," she said. "One such as yourself, Vanion, ought to be promised to a woman of high and noble blood."

 

Something about the way she swayed as she said those words affected him. Yet the allure was entirely broken by the realization that Rusara had been insulted. "Excuse me, I will walk in the gardens."

 

He entered the De Chevlon family gardens and walked among the hedges.