Dragon Heartstone > Chapter 7–Dinner with the King

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Candlelight had replaced sunlight by the time Larah woke up. Slumped over in a chair next to the door, Vig was asleep. Alric reclined beside her, resting his head against the wall.

He popped open an eye as she looked around. “Ah, so you are awake? Good. Are you hungry?”

“Famished,” Larah said truthfully.

Alric rolled off the bed and stretched, “Let’s retreat to the tavern for something to eat.” He kicked Vig’s chair, and the dwarf started.

Looking around the room, Vig’s gaze settled on Larah, and a smile crossed his features. “Good, she lives. The Brin Shar will be happy to hear that.”

“Brin Shar?” Larah asked.

“In the Old Speech, that means ‘The Watcher,’” Alric replied.

The phrase jarred her memory. “Oh, yes, I should have remembered.”

The three left and began moving toward the Inn’s common room.

Larah walked next to Alric and asked in low tones, “How did you know the Moonstone was going to be where you said it was?”

“I saw in a vision that you would find it there,” Alric said with a smile. “And I took the chance to say so, though what I see is sometimes only a possibility and not always a reality. Yet I felt compelled to tell you.”

“That must be quite an advantage, knowing how the future will unfold.”

“Only those without foresight would think so,” he replied. “But, knowing the future and being able to do something about it is entirely different. And even then, I do not know everything that will happen. My ability comes with limitations.”

“Such as?”

“I cannot see my future and little of Britta’s. Even if I could see my future, I doubt I’d want to. The line between fate and possibility is hard to discern. One could go mad trying.”

 “Is that why, as a young man, you sought refuge in Avalir?”

“Yes, and also why I left.” She hoped for more, but instead, he stayed silent.

She cleared her throat. “When we last met in Wolfbern, you promised to help me understand the images I saw in the Mirror of Avalir.”

“I will, but I caution you—my interpretations are only from my perspective and may reflect possibilities that might not come to pass.”

“I understand,” Larah answered. “But any interpretation would be preferable to having none.”

“I’m not so sure, but it is your decision.” Alric leaned back in his chair. “First, let’s ask for something to eat. The broth I had earlier was hardly enough.”

They sat at a table in the dining area of the common room. The old innkeeper slunk over to the table.

“What do you have to eat?” the King asked.

“Bread and cheese,” the old man said, eyeing them.

Alric eyed him back just as critically. “Please tell me you have ale. Otherwise, I might have to inspect your larder.”

The old tavern owner’s jaw shook, “Oh, uh, no. I mean, yes. We have ale.”

Alric flipped him a gold coin. “Then make it so, and anything else I might find worth paying for, other than bread and cheese.” The old man flashed a gap-toothed smile and disappeared.

Alric turned to Larah. “Tell me your vision from the Mirror.”

“The first vision I did not recognize was of a grim-looking man drawing a sword, and it burst into flames.”

“That could mean many things, but a flaming sword usually means ‘the way is blocked’ and ‘you are forbidden to enter.’ What that means to you, I don’t know.”

“I do not know either. I also saw a young boy, his arms raised toward a boiling and churning sky.”

“That image is very curious. Powerful male wielders of magic are rare outside of the Grand Council. One powerful enough to alter the weather would be hazardous to himself and the Council. As a rule, Council members do not trust young men to cast spells without indoctrination.” He paused and stared at the table. “I would have to question whether such a person exists because if he does, he would be known throughout Westfal, or at least rumored to. That is not the case, so I believe your image may be a portent of the future. Anything else?”

Larah leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes to recall the memories. “I saw black-winged creatures sailing through the night sky.”

“From what I understand, Faline arrived at Avalir on the backs of Pfesterians, winged reptiles conjured by dark magic.”

She shuddered. “Avalir was attacked? But why?”

“Faline used the Mirror to find you and the Grail. That is why she was waiting for you in the Citadel.”

A chill ran through her as another memory surfaced. “The arm wielding a dagger, was Faline attacking me in the Gate Room of the Black Tower?”

“Seems reasonable, though that image might also mean some other type of betrayal.”

“How about a broken staff?”

“Only Council members use a staff to augment their abilities. That might mean defeating the Council in some significant way.”

“A woman shimmered and vanished into a mist.”

Alric drummed his fingers on the table. “A Caretaker, perhaps? Have you encountered one before?”

“Yes, Anolinde. I found her in Malodier and later the Old Forest. But she was a tree spirit, not a water one.”

“That might mean you will encounter another. Any other images?”

“Yes, there were two images, almost upon each other, which I think are connected somehow. The first had hairy yellow-eyed creatures, snapping and snarling. The second had decaying bodies strewn across a grassy field.”

“The creatures sound like Nagun, which Gall encountered in Bretagne. We also know that Edwyn is committing atrocities against his own people. However, what is not clear is the connection between the two. Perhaps the Nagun will re-emerge as a threat? Anything else?”

Larah sat quietly, studying her hands. “Yes,” she finally said. “I saw Gall standing over me, his eyes glowing red, and a sword in his hands.”

Alric sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Your last image is most disturbing. Taken literally, it could be that you are in danger from him, but I suspect it means something else. Visions are seldom as straightforward as they seem.”

She sat back, rubbing her eyes. “That last image bothers me as well. Gall says he’s my father, but I’m not certain I can trust him.”

“I share your concern,” Alric replied. “Particularly since Britta travels with him. But, if you are his daughter, I suspect he will try to protect and not harm you.” He paused as if to say more but did not.

“But if he had to rebuild the Mordwahl or protect me, which would he choose?”

Alric stared at the table for a moment before looking up. “He will do whatever duty calls him to do, wherever that leads him.” He put a hand on her shoulder. “I wish I could give more reassurance than that, but I cannot.” The tavern owner arrived with a tray of meats, cheeses, bread, and fruit.

Larah flashed the tavern owner a smile and took some food.

“Ah, good selection. You will be richly rewarded,” Alric said, digging in.

Larah looked up to see the tavern owner smiling a thin, tight smile that looked more forced than cheerful. Perhaps the man was overcompensating, but for what, though, she could not guess.