Mortance: A Miscarriage of Hope

Lily Ⅸ

Ser Lionel Calder dismissed the healers as he strode into my temporary quarters. I was lying in some dead man's bed, waiting for my leg to heal, as I'd been since the battle ended three days ago. The knight was dressed in the blue, white, and gold of Sacreon, and still lightly armored even here where the threat was nonexistent. I regarded him wordlessly.

"Half of Untot is in ruin, but far more than that made it out unscathed," Ser Lionel Calder began. "That is thanks to you on both parts."

I nodded. "I know why the elves came."

"Then you know that by the laws of Sacreon I should take you before my lord uncle in chains."

"Will you?"

The knight sighed. "Prince Angus told me you fought bravely for Untot. These people are not your own, but you still stayed and fought. That is courage, true heroism, but it cannot be forgotten that you are the reason the army was here in the first place," he rubbed the hilt of his sword with his left hand. "The prince gave me leave to decide your fate, as he is gone, and so I will. I've spoken to the rest of your friends already. You are welcome to stay until you are well enough to walk, but after that you must be gone. Would that I had the authority to banish you from Sacreon as a whole. All I can do is forbid you from entering my uncle's lands so long as you live."

I nodded in response. That's more than fair, the spider told me. You unwittingly brought an army upon his people, he has every right and reason to demand your life. She was right. "What if I stayed?" I offered suddenly. "To help defend you people, I mean."

"We can do that well enough on our own, thank you."

All evidence to the contrary, I wanted to say. But Ser Lionel Calder held my fate in his hands, and could easily end me here and now. It would not be wise to anger him. "As you say."

"That is all, then," the knight turned away and towards the door. "Rest well and heal fast, Lily of Espar."

"Heal fast," I repeated quietly once he was gone. It was usually nothing more than a courtesy, but I sensed something deeper. I want you off my lands as soon as possible, elf. It hurt, but it was not unexpected.

The door opened, and a kindly older man strode through. I knew he was one of the healers, but I couldn't recall his name. He had short, dark grey hair and scars from battles long past, but I was sure he hadn't fought with us for Untot. "How is your leg?" he asked.

"Hurts," I answered bluntly.

"Good," he said. "That means it's healing. You should rest now. I believe you may be walking by tomorrow if you're lucky."

"Thanks," I said.

He produced a bowl with some sweet smelling substance inside. "Drink this."

"What is it?"

"To help you sleep and heal."

I nodded and took it. Whatever the liquid was, it was warm and sweeter than it smelled. I drank it up quickly, and suddenly my eyelids weighed a lot more. Sleep took me quickly.

"Will she live?" a man made of half-melted gold asks. He stands over a broken silver body, illuminated by cold sunlight. There is something familiar about both of them, but I can't place it.

"That fall should have killed her," another man says. "Perhaps it would be best just to finish the job. She can't live long as she is anyway."

"No," the gold man says. "She's still alive. She's my daughter, my blood. So long as there is a chance, it is my duty to keep her alive."