A Triad in Three Acts: The Complete Forester Trilogy by Blaine D. Arden

Author:Blaine D. Arden [Arden, Blaine D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Romance, Gay
Publisher: Cayendi Press
Published: 2016-08-15T07:00:00+00:00

JARDA STOOD IN front of me, shoulders drawn up, elbows tucked to her sides, a dazed look in her eyes as she shook her head. Darver had already gone inside. And in his cell, Sorse was muttering to himself.

“I tried to get him to let it go, but he couldn’t.”

“About Master Fuzan?” I asked.

“Yes. I thought he’d gotten over it for a while. No outbursts, no disappearances, or fewer of them, anyway, no muttering about wishing the forester had died instead of Fuzan.” She looked at me. “I thought he’d moved on, finally. But I was wrong, wasn’t I?”

I wasn’t sure I had the answer to that. “Maybe not moved on, but resigned himself to it. Hearing about a possible apprentice and reducing the sentence might have pushed him over the edge.”

“What now?” she asked.

“The elders want me to assess him.”

“Is there no other possibility?”

“The guide, Novice Darver, Apprentice Brem and I, we’ve all tried talking to him, but he doesn’t react to any of us. He answered maybe one or two general questions. But nothing beyond wanting the forester dead.”

Jarda flinched. “I’m sorry, Master Kelnaht. I only just heard he is your vowed. Is that why you had Apprentice Brem fetch me? You want me to talk to him?”

“Yes. It’s his last chance. If he talks to you about it, then maybe I can assess him without going into his mind.”

Jarda closed her eyes. “I’ll try.”

And she did. After a short conversation with Darver, she went into the cell wearing a smile that almost looked convincing, and sat across her brother. Sorse didn’t glance up when she began talking softly about the hunt, her family, and the children. It wasn’t until she started talking about their past, about things she knew he liked, that he stopped muttering. He still wouldn’t face her, but he was listening now. It was something, at least.

Jarda kept talking, kept looking at him, kept smiling.

“He hurt Fuzan,” Sorse suddenly said, his voice sounding so different from when I spoke to him. He sounded almost childlike, even looked like it, sitting there wrapping his arms around himself. “I was making wings for him, but he hurt Fuzan before I finished them.”

Jarda’s expression faltered. Wings for Fuzan. It sounded like a wee elf’s wish, creating wings for a tree elf. Obviously, she hadn’t known. I doubted Taruif had known, either.

“He hurt Fuzan.” Sorse’s voice sounded louder now, less childlike. “He doesn’t deserve to live because he hurt Fuzan.” He slammed his hands on the table, making Jarda lean back.

I stood with my hand on the doorknob, but seeing Jarda’s reaction, Sorse immediately ceased.

“I won’t hurt you. You’re my sister. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetie.”

“I loved Fuzan. I was going to give him wings.”

I swallowed, torn between wanting to strangle him for hurting Taruif and feeling sorry for him.

Jarda stayed with Sorse for quite a while, trying to get him to talk about the wings, but Sorse was done talking. He wasn’t muttering as such, but he had clearly withdrawn into himself again.

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