even smile a little. By the time Dezra returned with drinks, Tika
seemed more relaxed, though her face was still drawn and
strained. Crysania, Tanis noticed, barely touched her wine.
She simply sat, glancing occasionally at Caramon, the daric
line appearing once again between her brows. Tanis knew he
should explain to her what was going on, but he wanted some-
one to explain it to him first.
“When did this -” he began, hesitantly.
“Start?” Tika sighed. “About six months after we got back
here.” Her gaze went to Caramon. “He was so happy – at first.
The town was a mess, Tanis. The winter had been terrible for
the survivors. Most of them were starving, the draconians and
goblin soldiers took everything. Those whose houses had been
destroyed were living in whatever shelter they could find –
caves, lean-to hovels. The draconians had abandoned the town
by the time we got back, and people were beginning to rebuild.
They welcomed Caramon as a hero – the bards had been here
already, singing their songs about the defeat of the Queen.”
Tika’s eyes shimmered with tears and remembered pride.
“He was so happy, Tanis, for a while. People needed him. He
worked day and night – cutting trees, hauling timber from the
hills, putting up houses. He even took up smithy work, since
Theros was gone. Oh, he wasn’t very good at it.” Tika smiled
sadly. “But he was happy, and no one really minded. He made
nails and horseshoes and wagon wheels. That first year was
good for us – truly good. We were married, and Caramon
seemed to forget about… about…”
Tika swallowed. Tanis patted her hand and, after eating a lit-
tle and.drinking some wine in silence, Tika was able to con-
tinue.
“A year ago last spring, though, everything started to
change. Something happened to Caramon. I’m not sure what.
It had something to do with -” She broke off, shook her head.
“The town was prosperous. A blacksmith who had been held
captive at Pax Tharkas moved here and took over the smithy
trade. Oh, people still needed homes built, but there was no
hurry. I took over running the Inn.” Tika shrugged. “I guess
Caramon just had too much time on his hands.”
“No one needed him,” Tanis said grimly.
“Not even me….” Tika said, gulping and wiping her eyes.
“Maybe it’s my fault -”
“No,” said Tanis, his thoughts – and his memories – far
away. “Not your fault, Tika. I think we know whose fault this
is.”
“Anyway” – Tika drew a deep breath – “I tried to help, but I
was so busy here. I suggested all sorts of things he could do and
he tried – he really did. He helped the local constable, tracking
down renegade draconians. He was a bodyguard, for a while,
hiring out to people traveling to Haven. But no one ever hired
him twice.” Her voice dropped. “Then one day, last winter, the
party he’d been supposed to protect returned, dragging him on
a sled. He was dead drunk. They’d ended up protecting him!
Since then, he’s spent all his time either sleeping, eating, or
hanging out with some ex-mercenaries at the Trough, that
filthy place at the other end of town.”
Wishing Laurana were here to discuss such matters, Tanis
suggested softly, “Maybe a – um – baby?”
“I was pregnant, last summer,” Tika said dully, leaning her
head on her hand. “But not for long. I miscarried. Caramon
never even knew. Since then” – she stared down at the wooden
table – “well, we haven’t been sleeping in the same room.”
Flushing in embarrassment, Tanis could do nothing more
than pat her hand and hurriedly change the subject. “You said a
moment before ‘it had something to do with – ‘… with what?”
Tika shivered, then took another drink of wine. “Rumors
started, then, Tanis,” she said in a low, hushed voice. “Dark
rumors. You can guess who they were about!”
Tanis nodded.
“Caramon wrote to him, Tanis. I saw the letter. It was – it
tore my heart. Not a word of blame or reproach. It was filled
with love. He begged his brother to come back and live with us.