Larak was moving forward to get between Yhkon and the terrified Lentli. Lentli apparently didn’t trust him to get there in time, because he sent Grrake a frightened, apologetic look, before meeting Yhkon’s furious gaze. “Well…I don’t know why you don’t...well, you’re Grrake’s son, aren’t you?”
~♦~
Yhkon picked up the clear glass between his thumb and index finger, spinning it a little. The amber liquid inside swirled, foam clinging to the rim. He sat alone at a table beside three empty chairs. It would probably stay that way—when a man clad with armor and weaponry entered a tavern, any other occupants tended to steer clear, in case he drank more than he ought.
Hearing the door to the tavern open and quiet footsteps approach, he took a sip without looking up, even as the newcomer sat down at his table. “Hello, Dad.”
Grrake’s anxiety was tangible. He leaned forward, glancing over both shoulders. “Yhkon what are you doing! You can’t go into public like this, in all your gear without—”
“Oh, how thoughtless of me,” Yhkon interrupted the chastisement with a flippant smile. “I should get you a drink. Hold that thought.” He got up, ignoring Grrake’s whispered objection, and returned to the counter. “A beer for my father, please,” he made sure it was loud enough for Grrake to hear.
When he sat back down, setting the glass at Grrake’s elbow, he smiled again, leaning back in his chair nonchalantly. “Now, where were we? I believe you were in the middle of lecturing me, like any good father. Do continue.”
Grrake just looked at him for a long moment. There was a deep sadness in his eyes…not enough to give Yhkon any sense of regret or sympathy. “Yhkon…I’m sorry.”
“Mmm, you might have to specify…what for? Lying to me ever since you just took me in, fourteen years ago? Abandoning us? Or is there something else I don’t know about yet?”
His gaze lowered, as he clasped his hands tightly. “All three.”
“Ah.” Yhkon smiled triumphantly. “So there is more!” He made his posture even more relaxed. “Alright, let’s hear it. This grand tale of how you abandoned your children to nearly starve, probably so you could run off to your lover who just happened to be the queen of Sanonyn; and then came back but chose to never tell me you were my father.”
Grrake’s expression became almost skeptical. “Of course I didn’t go to her, she’s married now. I’m going to tell you everything, Yhkon…but I think we should do it somewhere else, and sometime when you’re sober.”
He laughed. Surprisingly, it wasn’t hard to laugh. “I see…you think I’m drunk. Well, you’ll be glad to hear…” He took another sip. The glass was still mostly full. “This is my first.”
Whatever twisted amusement had fueled him so far left in the space of a couple seconds. He leaned forward over the table, head cocked slightly and a sneer curling his lip. “I’m not drunk. What I am, is done. With you. Maybe with everything. I haven’t decided yet. In any case, I don’t care about your explanations or apologies.” He shoved his seat back, standing up. “You can go tell it all to Jaik’s grave.”
Yhkon left the tavern without another word or glance. At first he thought he’d struck a hard enough blow that Grrake would leave him alone, but he soon heard him catching up.
“Yhkon, Yhkon! Please wait.”
He kept walking.
Grrake caught hold of his wrist, forcing him to stop. “Please, just give me the chance to at least explain…it was to protect you. If anyone knew you were my son, they would have tried to kill you. I didn’t—”
Yhkon flung his hand off, glaring at him. Not caring that there were tears in the man’s eyes. “I don’t care! I don’t care what your reason was. I trusted you. Only you. You knew that, and you lied. And now…” He clenched his teeth. “It’s over. I’m done.” He kept walking.
“Yhkon—”
“Enough!” he spat over his shoulder, quickening his pace.
Once again, Grrake grabbed his arm to stop him. Blind rage launched Yhkon’s fist before he even knew he was doing it, slamming it hard into Grrake’s jaw. Unsuspecting, Grrake lost his hold and stumbled back. For the briefest of moments, something in Yhkon told him he should regret striking his closest friend, his mentor, and apparently his father.
The moment was gone instantly. Somehow he felt confident that Grrake would not follow him again. And he was right. No more footsteps. Instead, three words spoken quietly. “I love you.”
Those words echoed in his mind as he left the town behind, returning to where he’d tied Eclipse in the woods. He didn’t even remember untying the stallion and mounting, he just found himself on a galloping celith. His knees and heels were tight against Eclipse’s ribs, a command for more speed, which the animal was trying to obey despite the treacherous terrain of the forest.
It took a surprisingly long time for Yhkon to realize that his mount could easily break a leg—he never galloped a celith in woods like this, for that reason. He slowed Eclipse to a walk. It felt unbearably slow. As if something were pursuing him and he needed to escape it.
All the while, the simple words Grrake had last spoken haunted him.
Because he knew they were true. He knew Grrake loved him. He’d known it before, he’d just assumed that Grrake loved him like a son, not as one. And to be loved like a son had been a comfort. It had been from someone he respected and perhaps even loved like a father, in return.
But now it was from his actual father. Who he hated.
Maybe he should allow Grrake to explain why he’d done what he had. Maybe…maybe he really did have a reason, a reason that would…would somehow make it okay.
Or maybe it couldn’t be okay. What reason could possibly make it acceptable for a father to abandon his children, then lie to one of them for fourteen years? He’d been only four when Grrake had left them, after uprooting them from Sanonyn and leaving them with their aunt in Zentyre. If Grrake hadn’t left them…maybe his brother and aunt wouldn’t have been murdered by Kaydor. Maybe his sisters wouldn’t have been taken as slaves. At least they wouldn’t have spent the prior years living in utter poverty, spending so many days hungry or cold. Yhkon wouldn’t have been left an orphan, alone, wandering the streets and surviving on the rare kindness of a stranger, before the Falstons found him.
No. There was no reason that could excuse it. That being the case, he felt no need to hear whatever the reason was. He felt no need to ever speak to the man again.
Yhkon realized Eclipse wasn’t even moving anymore. He had no idea where he was, but he could probably retrace his steps. The question was…should he? Did he want to go back? Could he continue as lead Warden? It was Grrake that had convinced him to become a Warden. Grrake had trained him. Grrake had persuaded the council to make him the leader. Grrake had been the only reason Yhkon had become a warrior and joined the San Quawr’s cause at all. Now, maybe Grrake was the reason he would finally quit.
The hours passed. Backtracking when he’d been paying no attention to where he was going wasn’t easy. The only reason he was going back at all was to grab his pack. But he was finding it difficult to keep his eyes open, exhaustion weighing his limbs and clouding his mind. Besides, he should rest Eclipse for a night, make sure no inflammation was going to show up from the reckless gallop.