Bearers of the Black Staff - Terry Brooks [143]
Phryne nodded, having no idea what she was talking about. “That might be so, but we don’t have to like it.”
“We shouldn’t have to accept it, either. Mostly, we don’t. We understand the odds are against us, but we still strive for something more. We make our best effort each time out because now and then we get exactly what we want.”
“Which is what we are going to do here?” Phryne guessed.
Her grandmother glanced at her. “In fact, it is. Both of us are going to make our best effort and hope it works out. Both of us, Phryne.” She paused. “You must be wondering what I am talking about.”
Phryne grinned in spite of herself. “I’m afraid I am.”
“Then I better get to the point and tell you. Lovely flowers, aren’t they? On a day like this, with so much to think about, I find it comforting to come out into the garden to do my thinking. Sitting among all this beauty and those sweet smells and bright colors gives me peace. Over here, Phryne.”
She directed her granddaughter to a wooden bench settled among a stand of daffodils in full bloom. Phryne helped her find her seat on the bench and then sat next to her.
“Now then,” Mistral Belloruus began, and her brow furrowed. “You must be extremely frustrated and disappointed with the way things have been going since it was discovered the protective walls were down. You angered your father by going up to Aphalion on a pretense and then leaving the valley in direct disobedience of his orders. You failed your friends from Glensk Wood. One of them may pay the price for that failure. You helped bring an enemy into our city and then watched him slip away. You discovered that your stepmother is every bit as bad as you had suspected even though too many others see her as an angel. Important events take place elsewhere, but your father keeps you close to home because he fears for your life. Most distressing of all, your role as Princess of the Elven people has made it impossible for you to do much of anything about this.”
She paused. “Have I missed anything?”
Phryne was beet red. “I think you’ve covered it all, Grandmother.”
“I don’t do this to embarrass you or to add further pain to your life, although I imagine I’ve done both. I do it to make certain you have a context in which to appreciate the rest of what I have to say. Because, child, how upset you are with all that has happened and how much you want to do something about it is important.” She paused. “You would like to do something about all this unpleasantness, wouldn’t you? I’m not wrong in thinking that you would, am I?”
Phryne didn’t hesitate. “If you can show me a way to right any of those wrongs, to change for the better any of those mistakes and failings, I won’t hesitate to do what’s needed.”
Her grandmother considered her carefully. “Very well, Phryne. I take you at your word. There was a young man who felt exactly as you do once upon a time, and he said much the same thing as you are saying. He even made a vow to help the Elven people when all was said and done. I would hope I could count on you for that, too.”
“Grandmother, you have my word that …”
Mistral Belloruus brushed away the rest of what Phryne was going to say with a quick gesture. “I know that,” she said quickly. “You needn’t speak the words to me. You need only speak the words to yourself, in the privacy of your thoughts.”
Phryne shook her head in dismay, her frustration growing. “What is all this about? Can’t you just tell me?”
Her grandmother’s thin face tightened. “The young are so impatient! Oh, very well. When Kirisin Belloruus and his sister Simralin came into this valley,