Page 95 of Tristan
“How can it be hidden?” He’s staring at the map, barely able to speak, his jaw opening and closing several times trying to make words out of the scattered thoughts flying through his mind. “I believe you, but Corrik, I was there months—it is there I assure you.”
“I’m certain it is, but I don’t know where it went,” I say. “I don’t suppose they allowed you to be awake for the journey back?”
He shakes his head. “What do we do about it then? How do we find it?”
“We?”
“Yes. I am going to help, whatever you do.”
“How do you know I’m going to do anything? And what makes you think I’d allow you to if I were?”
“Because he means more to you than anything. You’ll figure out a way to get him back.” Diekin gives me his famous wink. “And I’m not asking for permission. I’m coming. It is my right to redeem myself. We all deserve a shot at redemption, do you not agree?”
I do agree, but I don’t say so. Diekin is a cocky little so-and-so and doesn’t need any more to feed his ego with. “If I’m to suffer your presence, you will agree to obey me in Ditira’s absence.”
“Don’t I always?” I narrow my brow at him. Diekin isn’t behaved at the best of times. “I will, Corrik.”
“And if you don’t?”
“You’ll tan my pretty little hide?”
“Every day for the next millennia,” I say and mean it.
“Yes, Sire.”
“What’s going on in here?” Alrik stands in the doorway tall and foreboding. What does he want? He’s the last thing I need to deal with now. Unfortunately, I must answer him. He’s owed respect as my brother and elder, even if I want to plough through him with my fist for interfering all the time.
“Diekin and I are going to find Aldrien and rescue Tristan.”
“Not without me you’re not. The details. Now.”
I growl, but I obey him. I relay everything Diekin’s told me, including what little I know of their plans for war. I tell him what has become of Tristan.
“Then this is grave, very grave,” he says. “Very, well. I will join your search. I have always dealt well with the Aldrien Elves, perhaps I can persuade them otherwise—if we ever find them that is.”
He cannot be involved. No one knows of my affair with Prince Andothair; he’ll skin me alive. “You will not be able to talk the Aldriens out of war if they’ve decided they’ve reason enough—you know how stubborn they are.”
“Perhaps, but it is always worth an attempt. In any case, you are too emotionally wrought over that Markaytian, Corrik. I don’t trust your judgment in this. Be grateful I allow you to do this at all. I know Father advised you to lay this to rest.”
Yes, advised me. He didn’t outright forbid it. It’s hard to control my tongue, especially when he refers to my husband as “that Markaytian,” but I do. “I can be trusted, brother. I don’t require assistance.”
“Nevertheless, you will have assistance.My assistance.You have not yet come of age and your youth is yet another thing that blinds you. I do not trust you.”
It gets harder to keep my temper at bay. I’ve never been known to do it long. “I am married.”
“You were too young to be married. You know well that is why I did not attend the wedding, in protest of it.”
“Father does not agree with you.”
“Father dotes upon his youngest son far more than he should. It is up to me to instill the discipline that you lack.”
“You’ve disagreed with the marriage from the start, you don’t want me to find him. How can I trust you?”
“I have every interest in finding your new husband. It is not his fault that Father is indulgent with you and now we have a treaty with Markaytia that we must uphold. It does not require him living to do so but I will not have us look irresponsible to the Markaytian royals. I will help you get him back and will invest every skill of mine to do so. How dare you accuse me otherwise?”
It isn’t hard to anger my brother, just as it isn’t hard to anger me—a trait I must admit I get from him. Our father and mother are not nearly as quick to anger.
“I am sorry, Alrik. I did not mean to insult you,” I say, rather than point out how many times he’s insulted me during this conversation. Of course, Diekin is witness to this argument and it will further confirm for him the discourse between my brother and I, and he will relay this to Tristan. Normally I’d be upset about that, but it makes me smile with the thought that Tristan is alive and could be home someday to hear Diekin speak of my quarrels with my brother at all. Diekin’s return has refueled my hope, the hope that was beginning to wane.
