The boy comes around to his purpose

June 15, 1085

The boy was frightened and defiant.

The boy was frightened and defiant like Lar, but there the resemblance ended. This boy’s fear and defiance were no more than the hissing of a cornered kitten who believed that puffing up the fur of its stubby little tail could make itself appear more dangerous.

Worse, they were making him forget why he had wanted to see Dre in the first place.

“Surr, isn’t it?” Dre asked.

“Son of Dartesas,” the boy growled.

“Ah.” Dre bowed his head, shamefaced, and twisted his fingers awkwardly. “I should have… spoken to you before…”

'I should have... spoken to you before...'

Surr’s fear was drying up before these signs of frailty, and his defiance was swelling into righteous hatred.

“I have always regretted what I… did… that day…”

Dre was wanton enough a liar to appreciate the glittering beauty of a misleading truth, and he paused a moment in admiration.

Of course he regretted it: Dartesas was the only elf in whom Lar confided, and the mind of Dartesas was as easily read as his son’s. But he allowed Surr to draw his own conclusions.

“I was so angry,” Dre murmured, “I thought of nothing aside from my own thwarted purpose. I did not think about his… family…”

The boy was thinking of his mother.

The boy was thinking of his mother.

“His wife… his children…”

He was thinking of his brothers. And then he thought of a child unborn. He thought of his mother, who had been killed by the unblinded elf. He was thinking it was the fault of Lar.

Now, Dre thought, they were coming around to his purpose.

“Let us call it your father’s last lesson to you,” Dre said mournfully. “For you have seen the terrible consequences of unbridled anger.”

Surr was thinking that he had also seen the consequences of too much mercy. He was trying to grow as hard and unfeeling as a cauterized stump.

With a bit of turning and polishing he could be made into a weapon – nothing more valuable than a single arrow, weak as he was, but single arrows had been known to change the destinies of nations.

'I am sorry.'

“I am sorry,” Dre said humbly. “I doubt you care to hear my apologies, but I am sorry.”

The boy was not moved. But he had returned to his purpose.

“Perhaps you will nevertheless be kind enough to show me my way?” Dre asked.

“Could I talk to you first?” the boy muttered.

'Could I talk to you first?'