Bladesinger - Keith Francis Strohm [82]
He spun around quickly and grabbed Nardual. The two walked briskly toward the waiting tree line, but not before Andaerean turned to look once more at Taenaran. The half-elf felt the tael's hatred, like spears thrown from the angry cast of his eyes.
Taenaran groaned once the two companions moved out of sight. "Now you've done it," he exclaimed. "Andaerean is truly angry now."
"Andaerean is a pig," Talaedra spat, "whose manners, however cleverly disguised, would be more appropriate among orcs than elves. I cannot believe what he said to you."
Taenaran felt the tips of his ears burn with shame. "Then you heard what he said?" the half-elf asked. "Well," he continued, not waiting for a response, "thank you for coming to my rescue." He gave the maiden a quick bow then started to walk toward his pack.
"Where are you going?" Talaedra asked. "We haven't talked about tonight."
Taenaran stopped suddenly, as if caught in a spell. He turned to face the elf maiden, afraid that she would disappear and he would come to realize that this whole day had been nothing but a dream. "Th… Then you were serious about this evening," he stammered when Talaedra didn't fade from existence.
Her smile lit up the storm-clouded clearing. "Of course I was serious," she replied. "Where shall I meet you?"
"But your father," Taenaran began, "won't he be-"
"My father," Talaedra interrupted, "will be far happier knowing that I am spending the evening with an honest and good-hearted tael, no matter his bloodline, than if I were accompanied by a conniving and spiteful apprentice who barely conceals his own venomous heart behind a web of lies."
Taenaran simply stared, unable to respond.
"Good," Talaedra said, "I'm glad that it's settled. Why don't I meet you at the Verdant Pools and then we can walk to the celebration together?" She smiled once more then bent forward to kiss Taenaran lightly on the cheek before leaving the clearing.
The half-elf still stood there, honestly confused by what had just happened. Perhaps, he thought, this really was a dream.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, as if in answer.
* * * * *
Drops of water fell from rain-soaked trees, spattering Taenaran's cloak. Absently, he wiped away the few errant droplets that ran down his face. Despite the arrival of spring, the night air held a fierce chill. Above him, thick clouds shrouded the moon's illumination in a mantle of silver-gray luminescence.
None of it mattered to the half-elf. In fact, another Time of Troubles could have fallen upon the world and he would scarce have noticed-for Talaedra waited just beyond the next bend in the forest path. Friendships had been hard to come by, living as a half-blood among the elves of Avaelearean. Taenaran's friendship with the young elf woman meant that much more to him because of such difficulties. Now, however, the half-elf felt as if they stood upon the brink of something more, something deeper than friendship.
Taenaran smiled in the darkness as he scrambled up the last rise leading to the Verdant Pools. His smile turned to a curse as the worn leather scabbard he wore banged against an out-thrust expanse of rocks. Not for the first time, he wished that he could travel without the weight of his sword dragging at his side. As a student of the bladesinging art, however, he was expected to wear his sword always-as a means of being prepared for anything that might occur, as well as to remind him of his essential duty to the elf people.
When the shadows along the trail suddenly surged and shifted, resolving into several heavily cloaked figures, Taenaran prayed silently in thanksgiving that he had not, for once, shirked this discipline. The half-elf spun to his left, eliminating the possibility that his enemies could surround him by pressing his back against the rock. One of his assailants stepped forward and swung a thick-boled length of wood at him. He ducked beneath the blow and tried to draw his weapon, only to