Chapter 2. Sibling Quarrels

t was traditional among the Dunvael to sing after the meal.  It was only then that most of them noticed Pendaran was not among them and disappointed grumbles fluttered between the gathered clan.  Teleri, of course, had seen him leave over an hour ago and was disappointed to see that no light flowed from the doorway of his hut.  He had gone to bed early as was often his wont.

“Too good for us,” mumbled  Armagil, one of Sywno’s grandsons.  The young ranger was busily trimming fletchings for a new set of red Dunvael arrows, “Reckon we should wake him up and make him sing for his supper.”

Laughter then but the words stung Teleri and she wanted to yell at them to shut their mouths.  How dare they speak of Pendaran that way?

“Teleri, go fetch your pet and make him do some tricks.  We’re bored and it’s about time he repaid us for taking care of him,” Brioc said, emboldened by his brother’s remarks.

“He is a guest,” Sywno replied simply and the two young men nodded in deference, brooding silently.

Teleri was also disappointed that she would not hear Pendaran’s sweet tenor that night.  He had sung for them only once since their arrival two months before, impressing her guild mates and making them eager for more.  He had lost an opportunity for fellowship by habitually leaving the fire early each night.  On the other hand, she understood.  It was painful for her to have him so close and yet so out of reach.  Little had she known their time in Cantha would be the first and only time they would make love freely.  Their time in Tyria had become a long trial of stolen kisses and glances constantly interrupted by Morisedd or held back for fear of harming Mabane.

She loved him, empathizing with his loneliness and frustration.  He should have stayed in Cantha.  At least there he would have been safe and able to carry on his studies in peace.  What a selfish fool she had been to drag him into this squalor.  She had made his life miserable.  Zhou’s concerns had not been unfounded.  Keeping Pendaran here was like keeping a beautiful wild bird in a cage.  He preened for her, but his smiles were becoming less frequent and sadness lurked where joy had once lit his warm green eyes.

Brigit yawned expansively and rose, ruffling her long red hair and saying goodnight as she wandered toward her hut.  Sywno and Morisedd were arguing with Nandao and Teleri smirked, wondering what manner of mischief the silly monk had gotten into this time.  It was late and the fire had died down to gleaming embers.  Mabane was asleep beside her and she lifted one of the blankets that had been rolled up to form a pillow and gently draped it over his curled form.  Stroking his raven hair, she considered the tensions that dwelt between her child and the man she loved.  It pained her greatly.  In Cantha she had imagined Pendaran and Mabane becoming friends, teacher and student, perhaps even father and son.  She had never imagined that instead her son would view him as a threat, an interloper come to steal his mother’s love away.

Lowering her face, she kissed Mabane’s sweet brow, waiting for Morisedd to come carry the boy to his bed.  The poor thing had not endured well during her time in Cantha and it must have been a shock to see her march home arm in arm with Pendaran.  The boy still had nightmares over his father’s loss and now he must fear to lose her as well.

“I will never stop loving you, my sweet boy,” she whispered and he smiled faintly in his sleep.  Morisedd broke off from the argument and approached, his rugged features tense and weary.  He was worried about Uriel and missed her greatly.  Teleri had offered to let him stay in her hut and he had made himself a gatekeeper, sleeping just inside the door like a watch dog.  No doubt he hoped to ensure Pendaran would not come inside to trouble she or Mabane.

She had heard his tales about Pendaran.  He had not spared her a single detail of his exploits.  Morisedd loathed him, wanted him gone, and would not suffer himself to share so much as a guild cape with him.  Mabane’s feelings she could understand, but the harsh unforgiving nature of her brother was a source of grief for her and was slowly driving a wedge between the two men she loved.  She had forgiven Uriel for all the years she had hurt Murdi.  Why could he not grant Pendaran the same grace?

“Can you put Mabane to bed?” she whispered, “I want to see Pendaran before I go to sleep.”

“I’ll go with you after I tuck him in.”

“No, Murdi, I want to go on my own.  Just for a few minutes.”

“He couldn’t be bothered to join us for singing,” Morisedd said as if this proved some fatal flaw in the man he hated.

“He’s asleep anyhow,” Nandao chimed in, stretching as he left Sywno, their little spat adjourned for the night, “Granted, a mesmer can probably seduce someone while snoring, but I doubt he’d wake up to do anything about it.  You know what a slugabed he is.”

Morisedd grunted his annoyance and knelt to lift Mabane from the ground, smiling faintly as Teleri tucked blankets around him.

“Good night, sweetheart,” she murmured to her other beloved slugabed before Murdi bore him away. 

“Did he eat?” she asked Nandao, gesturing toward the hut he shared with Pendaran.

“No idea.  He showed up before supper to meditate so I decided to leave him alone.  Besides, I was hungry and he’s an adult. “

Teleri frowned and gathered one of the broad leaves her clan used in lieu of dishes.  Drawing a gutting knife from her boot, she sliced off a few hanks of now tough pork from the well picked over carcass.  Taking a queue from her, Nandao filled a bowl with ale from the communal barrel and followed her back to his humble hut with a flickering ceramic oil lamp clutched in the other hand.

“I’m tired, you know,” Nandao said testily, “I’m going to be miffed if you two start going at it.  No way am I staying outside in the cold.”

“Oh please,” Teleri grumbled, “As if that will happen.  I just want to make sure he’s alright.  Is that too much to ask?”

She ducked through the blanket that draped the narrow opening of the hut, aware of the sound of Pendaran breathing restfully on his side of the room.  Nandao’s lamp light parted the darkness as he entered behind her, revealing the tiny quarters they shared.  Their beds lined opposite walls, each little more than a collection of furs and blankets gathered since the clan’s arrival in Kryta just after the Searing.  Nandao’s nest was particularly untidy with neglected wine jars and oddments scattered about haphazardly in his half of the room.  Pendaran, however, had obtained a cedar chest which was locked at the foot of his bed and anything he valued was neatly folded or stowed within it.  He had jammed pegs into his wall on which to hang his collection of fine clothes but Geetha had already snagged one of them down and was curled contentedly on top of a fawn jacket near the head of Pendaran’s bed.  The lynx regarded her through slitted green eyes, yawning mildly.

Pendaran lay on his back in a loose linen shirt, a book drooping from one limp hand beside him on the pounded dirt floor.  There was a letter open on his chest, its red seal broken and scattered over his chest.  The candle that he often used to read himself to sleep had guttered and extinguished itself for want of trimming some hours before. A puddle of golden wax had overflowed the rusty sconce and now caked the fur beside his crude pillow of rolled up buckskin.  Nandao regarded the man ruefully and set the bowl of flat ale down beside the extinguished candle before turning to prod his own disorderly bedding.

Teleri set the food beside the ale, kneeling at Pendaran’s side and gently extracting the book from his loose grasp.  She half hoped he would wake but nothing sort of kicking him seemed effective once he had dropped off to sleep.  To her surprise, however, his eyes fluttered open when she lifted the letter from his breast.  He regarded her blearily as if not certain who she was or where he was.

“Sorry Pen,” she whispered, setting the letter on top of the book.

“Mmm,” he managed, closing his eyes.  Teleri smiled ruefully to herself, annoyed and feeling toyed with as Pendaran swallowed once and then proceeded to drift back to sleep.

“I miss you,” she said, holding his hand.

“… miss you, too,…’ he breathed and she thought for a moment he was awake until he started to snore softly.

Not exactly the romantic moment she longed for.

“I brought you some food,” she tried again, sighing.  Then she saw the seal upon the letter was familiar, a hand symbol, the mark of the Crystal Palm.  She surreptitiously lifted the letter and glanced at it, her eyes trailing over the tidy rows of Canthan characters.  Frowning at the illegible text, she folded the letter up and shoved it inside the book.  She placed his errant hand on his breast after kissing his fingers.  Then, with infinite care she removed his boots and unfolded the blankets at the foot of his bed, drawing them over him. 

“Good night, my darling,” she said, grinning at his answering snore.  She ran her hand through his silky chestnut hair and lowered her face to kiss his forehead.  Rising then, she saw Morisedd watching her from the doorway, his expression softened by a faint smile at her display of tenderness.  She wondered how long he had been watching her.

“I still love him,” Teleri said defensively as she rose to follow him back into night.

“I never said you didn’t.”

She glared at her brother only to be interrupted by Nandao clearing his throat.  The monk had vanished under a pile of furs and blankets, only his fingers exposed and ready to pinch the wick of the oil lamp beside his bed.

“Take your little quarrel outside, please.  Some of us need sleep.”

She pushed past her brother, determined to ignore him.

“I’m just trying to protect you,” Morisedd grumbled at her back.

She stopped in her tracks, her skin bristling with anger.  Then, spinning around, she met his eyes.

“Maybe I don’t want your protection.  Maybe I’m a grown woman now and not your little sister.”

“I don’t care what you want,” Morisedd replied, “Pendaran is scum and I’m keeping him off of you.  Nor will I let him harm Mabane.  Get used to it.”

“Sywno told you to back off,” she nearly shouted, aware of several dozen ears listening through the meager blankets covering their crowded huts, “So back off.”

“I’ll back off when he’s gone.  Not before.”

Teleri lost it.  She flung herself at Morisedd, her fists hammering his breast ineffectively as he held her easily at arm’s length.  Screaming in rage, she slapped him then, sobbing, all of her accumulated frustrations spilling from her mouth in curse laden howls of misery.  So lost in her rage and grief was she that she did not notice that several of the clan were pulling her away from Morisedd, restraining her hands for she had continued to strike him.  And he had let her.

“That is why he must leave,” Morisedd spat at her as she strained against Brigit, Armagil and Brioc.