Page 94 of In Darkness Forged

“You know, there was a time when Cuan was considered a dread warrior and a fearless companion in battle.”

Aislin whirled, with a surge of joy that never seemed to diminish or grow old.

Tal stood behind her, watching the scene with a resigned expression that tugged the corner of his mouth into a near smile. “I believe you’ve finally destroyed what little dignity that miscreant had left.”

“Dignity is highly overrated,” Aislin returned with a grin. “And he seems happy.”

Her husband strolled forward to curl an arm around her shoulders and pull her in for a hug.

“How was your day?” she murmured softly, reveling in the feeling of warmth and security she always found in his arms.

“Dull,” he admitted. “Everyone says they’re improving, but at this rate, I won’t be able to expect a challenge until I’m too old to lift my sword.”

As Sandric had begun to rebuild in the aftermath of the fire, he’d asked Tal to take charge of training and restructuring his guard. Apparently, the spectacle of them being overwhelmed and disarmed by a single opponent had driven the new Lord Dreichel to reconsider whether they were capable of ensuring Brightvale’s safety. And to his mind, who better to train them than the one who’d soundly defeated them in the first place?

It was a sore trial for Tal, who struggled to explain to others what he’d always been able to do without much thought or effort. But he tried, and while he would never exactly be popular, he’d found his own place in the village as an object of mingled awe and pride in his extraordinary abilities.

Aislin hugged him back, thankful beyond words for his steady patience. She wished she could give him more. Still dreamed on occasion of the adventures she’d longed for in the past. But while her mother had improved somewhat—thanks to better food and a renewed sense of hope—Aislin’s family still needed her, so for now, this would have to be enough.

“Are you happy?” she asked, looking up at Tal in the twilight, wishing he had not had to sacrifice so much on her behalf.

Tal’s face softened as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I am content,” he told her. “Though perhaps someday I would not mind if…”

“Aislin!” A peremptory voice called out from across the square. A small figure was moving towards them, waving something small and white.

Make that two figures. One small and one very large, with a wooden leg. And the two were holding hands.

Brannic and Marinda had finally admitted to their mutual attraction, and while their relationship seemed to be proceeding at the pace of a glacier moving down a mountainside, Aislin could not possibly be happier for them.

“This is for you,” Marinda called as she bustled forward, thrusting a piece of much-folded paper under Aislin’s nose. “It came through one of my suppliers. From the look of things, I suspect it has been passing from hand to hand for some time.”

Aislin’s heart began to trip faster as she eyed the object in her hands—a letter with her name scrawled on the outside in faded ink. She knew that handwriting.

“How long?” she demanded breathlessly. “How long has it been? And where did your supplier get it?”

She was almost afraid to open it. Afraid to find out that her carefully guarded confidence had been for nothing.

“The trader is from the land of my birth,” Marinda said quietly. “From Katal.”

So far away…

Aislin could wait no longer. She tore at the letter with shaking fingers, unfolding it and scanning the achingly familiar writing.

“My dearest girl,

I hardly even know how to write this. It has been so long, you must think I am dead or that I have chosen to betray you all. But that is the one thing I could never do. All these many months, I have longed for nothing more than to come home.

Some time ago—I hardly know when—my crew took a job that led us across nearly all of Abreia, to the Throne of Katal. I was injured in a battle there and taken captive. At first, I was held for ransom, but when it became clear that my captain had no interest in paying, I was turned over to the royal guard. Through some strange twist of fate, my talent for music was discovered, and I have been engaged as a court musician for the Queen of Katal.

It is not the worst life, little Aislin, but I am still a prisoner. The job that led me here was meant to result in the assassination of one of the queen’s own family, and while we failed, my life has been judged the repayment for that debt.

So in case I never see you again on this side of death, know that I love you. That I love your mother, and that I never meant to abandon you. I pray only that you are well and that in my absence, you have found the strength to carry on. If I am ever able, know that my path will lead straight to you and to your Mother, should she be willing to see me again.

Your loving and eternally regretful,

Father

“Father,” Aislin breathed. The emotions coursing through her weakened her knees and quickened her heart, but Tal was holding her and would never let her fall. “He’s alive,” she choked out. “He’s a prisoner, but he’s alive!”

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