“Do you mean the General wasn’t always in charge? I thought since his ability is so strong, his family must have been the leaders here from the beginning.”
“The beginning?” Quirin was surprised enough to look up. “No, indeed. His family only sought refuge here when he was a small child. He isn’t even Calistan.”
“What?” I pulled back, my spoon dropping from my hand. “The General isn’t Calistan?”
Quirin gave me a strange look, finally roused enough from his torpor to fully engage in the conversation.
“No, he’s Tartoran. His father was a powerful elements mage who couldn’t accept that he was overlooked in favor of one of his rivals when the Master of the Elements position became available. He attacked the other mage and was arrested. Rather than attempt to keep such a powerful prisoner, they exiled him across the border.”
“Exiled him across the border?” I stared at him, appalled. “What did they expect to happen to him over here?”
Quirin shrugged. “I imagine they thought he would die without their having to deal with anything as confronting as an execution. That’s royalty for you.”
“Is it?” I asked faintly. It was hard to picture the royals I had met behaving in such a fashion.
“But they didn’t count on his wife following him with their young son in tow. By the time she found him, he was weakened from hunger and had injured himself as well. They kept moving, eventually stumbling on one of our hunting parties as they were making their way back here. We took them in, but by that point it was too late for the weakened mage. We didn’t have anyone with a healing ability among our number back then, so…” He shrugged again.
“But his son was a powerful elements mage,” I said slowly. “One who grew up here. I can see why he dislikes Tartora.”
Quirin nodded. “We should have seen the direction his anger was taking him. But those of us most likely to have intervened felt sorry for the lad and made excuses for the resentment that shaped his character growing up. By the time we realized how far his entitlement reached, it was too late. He had won enough of our people to his cause to start bringing in outsiders. And then he started training them as warriors. Soon those of us uninterested in conflict were in the minority and could do nothing but watch as he turned our peaceful settlement into a war party.”
I shook my head. “I don’t believe it’s true that nothing can be done. It’s always worth at least trying.”
Quirin ran a hand over his face. “Dara and I talked about it many times. But we had a young son of our own by then. We wanted to keep him safe.” He laughed bitterly. “And look how that turned out. If I’d known he would turn to the General over his own parents, I would have stood up to him sooner.”
I looked down into my porridge, sympathy stirring despite my frustration with his passive response to the invasion of his home. And for the first time I felt sympathy for Renley as well. What youth, constrained to a home such as this, wouldn’t choose the impassioned leadership of the General over the resigned passivity of his parents?
Even I had nearly been sucked in—and might have been completely if not for the warning provided by Renley’s own experience. If the General had won me over with his words, would I ever have had this conversation with Quirin? Probably not. I would have gone on believing that the General was Calistan, just as he claimed, instead of recognizing how he twisted facts to suit his purpose—taking partial truths and turning them into lies.
“Will you take me to talk to some of the others?” I asked. “Some of the ones who don’t buy the General’s lines?”
Quirin looked surprised, taking several moments to consider my request. Eventually he nodded slowly.
“I suppose so.”
I smiled, hoping the exercise might do something for him as well. Perhaps forcing him to talk to his old friends would help coax him back from the brink. He certainly couldn’t continue as he had been indefinitely, just going through the motions.
As soon as I’d cleaned up from the meal, he led me out into the settlement. At first we walked in the direction of the graveyard, and I feared he didn’t even remember our purpose. But before we reached it, he stopped at the door of a house that looked identical to his own.
The curtain at the window, made from a faded green material, twitched and then the door was thrown open.
“Quirin!” The matronly woman seized him in a sturdy embrace, her tears falling on his shoulder. “I can’t believe she’s really gone.”
I expected Quirin to start crying again himself at the expression of sympathy and grief, but instead he straightened, patting her on the back.
“It’s difficult to believe it’s true. I keep turning around, expecting to see her there.”
The woman pulled back, mopping at her eyes. “Of course you do! I was just the same after we lost our Sarah.” She glanced at me. “She was such a wee thing. Far too young to go.”
“I’m sorry,” I murmured, uncomfortable to be intruding on their grief.
“That’s kind of you to say.” She gave me a watery smile. “It was many years ago now. But losing Dara brings it all back like it was yesterday. I’m Marissa, by the way.” She swept us both inside, Quirin speaking quiet words of comfort as we took our seats at her table.
A man walked in from a back room, and Quirin immediately stood again, the two of them exchanging a shorter embrace followed by a hearty handshake. The woman, bustling around pouring hot water from the kettle into cups of tea, seized the chance to whisper to me.
“I don’t care what they say about you. Bless you for bringing him here. We’ve all been that worried.”
I blinked. “Do I dare ask what they say about me?” I added a tentative smile.
She chuckled. “Those of us who’ve been here forever don’t look too kindly on newcomers. Not now,” she added darkly.
I raised an eyebrow. “Even newcomers here against their will?”
She looked a little uncomfortable as she pressed a tin mug into my hands.
“Aye, Dara thought we were too harsh on you. But we’ve heard the tales of your power. And we already took in one powerful young elements mage.”
I considered her answer. “That’s fair.”
She smiled, seeming relieved that I didn’t intend to make a fuss. “Of course it’s different now. We always knew Dara was a soft soul, but we didn’t realize how bad it was. Not until it was too late.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
She glanced at the two men who were now engaged in a quiet conversation of their own.
“Dara confessed it to me near the end. Quirin didn’t know, or he’d have intervened. He always had a stronger will. He led the rest of us in refusing the General’s demands. But Dara didn’t find it so easy, especially not once Renley got involved.” She sighed.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “but I still don’t understand. Are you saying the General was somehow responsible for Dara’s death? I understood she had a fatal illness of some kind.”
“Aye, it’s fatal, right enough. But there’s nothing natural about it. It took down too many of our grandparents and great-grandparents, and we all swore—” She broke off, gesturing me to a seat at the table as she placed the remaining mugs in front of the other chairs. When the two men didn’t break off their conversation, she sat down herself with a sigh.