The Father of Withering

Chapter Twenty-One: The Pass of Dragon Bones

Relma wasn't sure why she had said what she'd said to King Tyus. She'd felt as if she'd been speaking to him about his approach in general. Except she'd only known of him doing diplomacy. Perhaps she had been speaking of his treatment of Estela?

Relma decided to stop being so detached and focus on the now.

The now soon turned miserable.

It rained half the time as they walked west along the hills. There was little water in this place, and whenever they came to pools of water, they would drink it dry. The air was chilly and the sky dark, especially when you were near the Ghost Mountains.

The Ghost Mountains were the worst. They'd come within sight of them soon, and they rose into the sky like a thousand clawed fingers. Winds howled down from them, and the trees around them moved. Speaking of trees, the closer they reached the Ghost Mountains, the nastier they became. Leaves became spikes so you could cut a hand on them.

And all the while, the army of Escor moved some ways away in their shadow. Relma spent her days healing sprained ankles and helping however she could. It felt odd; she had raised this army, but now she had faded to the background. Varsus spent his days making decisions and organizing the distribution of supplies. Reginald and his men, alongside some of De Cathe's subordinates, kept the satyrs in line. Sometimes they also negotiated with the warriors.

Everyone kept busy, and no one was happy.

Except for the satyrs, of course. All of them had brought wine with them and drank of it greatly. They drank and laughed with eachother, occasionally sparring in the camp. None seemed to care that they were being looked at with obvious distrust.

Relma hoped Estela was doing well. She felt helpless despite all she'd done. What could she do to help Estela? She supposed that depended on who she was marrying. Estela had obviously decided to go through with it. Tyus seemed utterly unreasonable, or at least dead set.

Jomas Endorean could be more reasonable.

That was why she approached Varsus one day as he led from the front. Fayn got there first. "Varsus, I need to ask, who is this Jomas Endorean?"

"The Prince of the Second Dynasty of Stormstrike," said Varsus. "They are descended from the hill clans who once dwelled in the Dusk Lands and rose in rebellion against Anoa II. They've always kept to themselves and have always sought to break free. Even after Harlenor United broke apart, they kept trying."

"Right, that doesn't answer my question," said Fayn.

"The Endorean family is the second dynasty to rule Stormstrike. It was after they wiped out the last one, the Stormstrikes. But the Endoreans broke free during the Escorian Civil War. They were only brought to vassal status," said Varsus. "Uncle and I have been expecting a full-scale war for years."

"Okay, but who is Jomas Endorean?" asked Fayn.

Varsus sighed. "He is... not bright."

"Not bright?" asked Relma.

Varsus shrugged. "From what I've heard, he is a good fighter, and I met him once. He is reasonably nice but generally the last person to arrive at a given conclusion. He misses obvious things and is somewhat slow."

"Has Estela ever met him?" asked Fayn.

"You have known Estela as long as myself, Fayn. You tell me," said Varsus,

Fayn frowned. "Well, it just seems a bit abrupt, is all. He ought to have let her meet the groom first."

"I'm afraid that King Tyan regards such things as a mere formality," said a kind old voice.