The royal families greeted each other with every show of friendship—for the sake of their followers. Dumaka included Haplo as a highly honored guest and the Patryn was at least relieved to note that even the dwarf thawed out somewhat in Haplo’s presence. But none of them could hide the fact that they were not meeting in peace as they would have normally. Handshakes were formal and stiff, voices were cold and carefully modulated. No one called anyone by his or her given name.
Haplo could have cheerfully drowned every one of them.
The dolphins had been the cause of this latest trouble. They had gleefully carried the news about the dwarves refusing to travel in the sun-chaser to the elves. Eliason was disposed to side with Dumaka, although, elflike, he had sent word that he would not be rushed into making a decision. This pleased neither. Consequently, Eliason had managed to anger both dwarves and humans before he even arrived.
All of which caused Haplo to literally gnash his teeth in frustration. He had one bit of consolation and it was negative—the dragon-snakes were nowhere to be seen. He was afraid the sight of the formidable creatures might harden the dwarves’ determination against them.
A time for a meeting was set, later that evening, and then Yngvar and his contingent stomped off.
Eliason looked after the angry dwarf sadly, shook his head. “What is to be done?” he asked Dumaka.
“I have no idea,” the human chieftain growled. “If you ask me, his beard’s grown into his brain. He claims he and his people would rather freeze to death than set foot on the sun-chasers. They probably would, too. They’re just stubborn enough.”
Haplo, unobtrusive and silent, kept his distance, but lingered near, hoping to hear something that would help him figure out what to do.
Dumaka put a hand on Eliason’s shoulder. “I am sorry, my friend, to add this trouble to the heavy burden of your sorrow. Although,” he added, studying the elf intently, “you carry it better than I would have thought possible.”
“I had to let the dead go,” replied Eliason softly, “in order to look after the living.”
The young elf, Devon, stood on the pier, staring out over the water. Alake was beside him, talking to him earnestly. Grundle, with a wistful glance at both of them, had been dragged off by her parents.
But it was obvious that Alake’s words were falling on deaf ears. Devon paid no attention to her, didn’t respond in any way.
Dumaka’s grim expression softened. “So young, to be dealt such a heavy blow.”
“Three nights running,” said Eliason, in low tones, “we discovered him in that room where my daughter . . . where she . . .” He swallowed, turned exceedingly pale.
Dumaka squeezed his arm in silent sympathy, to indicate he understood.
Eliason drew a deep breath. “Thank you, my friend. We found him . . . there, staring out the window at the stones below. You can imagine what terrible deed we feared he contemplated. I brought him with me, hoping that the company of his friends would draw him out of the shadows that surround him. And it was for his sake I left earlier than I had intended.”
“Thank you, Devon,” Haplo muttered.
Alake, after a helpless glance at her father, finally suggested that Devon might want to see his quarters, and offered to show him the way. He responded like one of the automatons the Gegs used on Arianus, trailing after Alake with listless step and bowed head. He didn’t know where he was, obviously cared less.
Haplo remained hanging about Eliason and Dumaka, but it was soon apparent that the two rulers were going to talk of Devon and his sorrows and nothing of major importance.
Just as well, Haplo decided, leaving them. They’re not likely to get into a fight over that subject. And I have at least two out of five mensch speaking to each other.
He couldn’t help but think back to his time spent on Arianus, time spent trying to spread discord between elves and humans and dwarves. Now he was working twice as hard to bring the three mensch races together.