“Alfred,” said Orla, “can this be true?”
“I don’t know,” Alfred replied wretchedly. “Haplo might do something like this, I’m afraid, but you must understand that he—”
“Listen to him, Wife. Even now, he seeks to defend this Patryn.”
“How can you?” Orla demanded, drawing away from Alfred, regarding him with mingled sorrow, pain. “You would see your own people destroyed!”
“No, he would see his own people victorious,” said Samah coldly. “You forget, my dear, he is more Patryn than Sartan.”
Alfred made no reply, but stood clasping and unclasping his hands over the back of the chair.
“Why do you stand there and say nothing?” Orla cried. “Tell my husband he’s wrong! Tell me I’m wrong!”
Alfred lifted mild blue eyes. “What can I say that you would believe?”
Orla stared at him, started to reply, then shook her head in frustration. Turning her back on him, she walked out of the room.
Samah regarded Alfred grimly.
“This time, I will post a guard. You will be called.”
He stalked off, accompanied by the dog’s defiant growl.
Ramu appeared in his father’s place. Coming to the table, the son cast Alfred a baleful glance and laid firm hands upon the scroll. Deliberately and with great care, he rolled it up tightly, slid it into the scrollcase, and returned it to its proper place. He then took up a position at the back of the room, as far from Alfred as a Sartan could get and still keep an eye on him.
There was no need to guard him, however. Alfred would not have attempted to escape had the door been left standing wide open. He sat despondent, hunched in misery—a prisoner of his own people, the people he had hoped so long to find. He was in the wrong. He’d done a terrible thing and he couldn’t, for the life of him, imagine what had prompted him to do it.
His actions had angered Samah. Worse, Alfred had hurt Orla. And all for what? To meddle in affairs that were not any of his business, affairs that were beyond his understanding.
“Samah is far wiser than I am,” he said to himself. “He knows what is best. He is right. I am not Sartan. I am part Patryn, part mensch. Even”—he added, with a sad smile for the faithful animal, lying at his feet—”a little bit of dog. Most of all, though, I’m a fool. Samah wouldn’t attempt to suppress such knowledge. As Orla said, he was waiting for a more appropriate time. That’s all.
“I will apologize to the Council,” he continued, sighing, “and I will gladly do whatever they ask of me. And then I will leave. I can’t stay here any longer. Why is it?” He looked at his own hands, shook them in frustration. “Why do I break everything I touch? Why do I bring ruin on those I care about? I’ll leave this world and never return. I’ll go back to my crypt in Arianus and I’ll sleep. Sleep a long, long time. Perhaps, if I’m lucky, I’ll never wake up.
“And you,” said Alfred, glaring bitterly at the dog. “You’re on your own. Haplo didn’t lose you, did he? He sent you away deliberately. He doesn’t want you back! Well, good riddance, I say. I’ll leave you here, too. Both of you!”
The animal cringed at his angry tone and baleful stare. Ears and tail drooping, the dog sank down at Alfred’s feet and lay there, watching him with sad, sorrowful eyes.
CHAPTER + 19
PHONDRA CHELESTRA
MUCH TO HAPLO’S AMAZEMENT, THE ROYAL FAMILIES, REUNITED with their children, decided to depart. Each family, it seemed, intended to return home, to rest and relax and, when they felt strong enough, discuss the idea of making the Sun Chase.
“What is this? Where are you going?” Haplo demanded of the dwarves, about to board their submersible. The humans were heading for theirs.
“We are going back to Phondra,” said Dumaka.
“Phondra!” Haplo stared at him, openmouthed. Mensch! he thought in disgust. “Listen, I know you’ve had a shock and I’m sorry for your loss. I truly am.” His glance went to Alake, sobbing in her mother’s arms. “But you don’t seem to understand that important things are happening, things that involve you and your people. You’ve got to take action now!