Palleas nodded silently, eyes still downcast at the map. Varen hesitated, unsure if he should add his suspicions about Alwyn.
“Have you heard from a High Sorcerer Alwyn?” he asked. “He was one who was captured.”
At that, Palleas’ eyebrows rose. “A High Sorcerer was captured?”
“I don’t know how they initially overpowered him, but they had him drugged with some paralytic when we found him,” Varen explained. “I don’t know what it was. Even the orc healer accompanying us didn’t recognize it.”
Palleas’ expression grew cool. “I do not know this Alwyn, but I will speak to the Mage Princeps on the matter.” He offered no other details, so Varen did not press, resigning himself to the fact that he might never learn what Alwyn had been doing alone in the wilderness before he was caught.
“This is valuable information, Commander,” General Palleas finally said, after several seconds of silence had passed between them. “I will pass this knowledge to the king, along with my commendation. It is possible he may seek an audience with you personally when I tell him of what has happened.”
Pride and fear swelled in Varen’s chest all at once. He had been in King Ruven’s presence many times before, of course, but always as part of a larger group. Though he had many one-on-one conversations now with Prince Taegan and King Zorvut, something about a private audience with King Ruven felt more intimidating still.
He only bowed his head, though, keeping his expression stoic. “Thank you, General. I will be in the city until at least tomorrow, perhaps the day after. I will keep an eye out for a missive.”
“Anything else to report?”
“No, sir.”
“I see. We’re glad to have you back, Commander. Dismissed.”
Varen stood, keeping his head bowed as Palleas got to his feet and stepped out from behind the desk. Varen waited a beat before following at a polite distance, heading back out of the castle grounds and into the city itself.
It had been nearly two years since he’d been at Castle Aefraya, and he was grateful for the chance to rest. Mostly, he was relieved they had all made it here in one piece. The hardest part was over; it was bittersweet, knowing his sister would not be coming with them, but at least it would be a straight shot back to Drol Kuggradh.
His heart squeezed at the thought of being alone with Korik on the road for another two weeks. Despite the orc’s standoffishness, Varen did genuinely like him. He had seemed to come out of his shell more initially, but had withdrawn back when they picked up the rest of the elves; maybe he would be more comfortable again when it was just the two of them.
Though he had been initially just as wary of the orc, his gratefulness for Korik’s presence had softened his heart considerably. Maybe they would never be friends, but he could at least look forward to a pleasant two weeks on the road before getting back to the doldrums of his daily life.
There was much to look forward to, the first of which was a home-cooked meal. His stomach grumbled, and he quickened his pace.
By the time Varen arrived, his uncle Beren had finished cooking dinner; Enriel, Korik, and his aunt Laena were all gathered in the sitting room waiting for his arrival. Enriel smiled as he stepped through the doorway. His aunt beamed, getting up from her seat, as his uncle called out a greeting from the kitchen; but his eyes lingered on Korik. The orc’s face had grown easier to read the longer they’d traveled together, and he could see the relief plain in his expression at his arrival, which made him stifle a smile.
“There you are!” Laena fussed, distracting him from the way his heart crept up into his throat when Korik’s eyes met his. “Gods, how long has it been now, Varen?”
“At least two years, auntie,” he chuckled, returning her embrace tightly. “That’s when I was sent out to Drol Kuggradh.”
“And you didn’t even come to say goodbye when you left,” she retorted. Even with her voice muffled against his shoulder, he could feel the teasing tone of her words, making him laugh again.
“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? And I brought you Enriel—who we all know is your favorite—and a new friend, too. You’ve no need of me at all.”
“Oh, stop,” Enriel said, rolling her eyes.
“Now that you’re here, let’s have supper,” Laena said, ignoring him. They all headed over to the kitchen where Beren was setting out food; but Korik lingered behind, looking with apprehension in their direction.
Varen gestured for him to follow. “She means you, too, of course.”
Korik’s face darkened slightly, and he glanced away, embarrassed. “Of course,” he echoed faintly, standing up. Varen realized that all the chairs at the table were elf-sized—that had been an issue at the Trisfiel estate too. He had been in the largest comfy chair in the sitting room, but now...
“Why don’t I help you bring that chair over?” Varen offered, pausing.
“Oh, gods, I didn’t even think of that,” Laena said, turning back to face them. “Yes, please, why don’t you bring it over to the table? I want you to be comfortable, Healer.”
Korik looked marginally less uncomfortable at the suggestion, and he nodded gratefully. Varen helped him lift the chair, and they were able to easily pull it up to the long table where the food was set out.
Finally, when they were all settled around the table and had food on their plates, Laena gestured at him again.
“Enriel said you would tell us what took you so long,” she prompted. “So what happened?”
