Chapter 39

Part 5

Talia led Mark by the hand to a spot near the doors to the balcony. For a moment, they simply smiled at each other, and they could hear Nemia say; “I didn’t know Dilimon and Yalla were engaged!”

And Theramin answered; “He bent his knee to her only an hour or so ago, and she was delighted to say yes. I think he was affected by the ambiance of the chapel, but I think Yalla has been waiting for him to ask for a long time.”

Then, over the murmur of many voices heard through the doors from outside, a girl elf’s voice was heard crying out in anguish, followed by two angry males, then they faded into the background noise. Though Mark didn’t understand their Elvish, Talia did, and what she heard made her shiver, and her skin went a shade paler.

“What is it?” Mark asked in concern.

Talia swallowed hard. “I know them. They are friends of mine, and of Dalia’s. The first said; “I tell you, Dalia couldn’t have killed herself! She was the happiest person I’ve ever met!’ And the second said; ‘I tell you, the human must have killed her, and somehow made Alilia cast the curse, so that he could have Talia! Nothing else makes sense!’ And the third said; ‘Be quiet you fool, they are right up there!”

Mark could find no answer to that.

“So much of our happiness in the days ahead depends on what father and you say to all our guests.” Talia quietly mused. “You must find a way to win them over, and to convince them of the truth. We cannot be happy together if there are so many who are against it.”

“I’ll try, Talia. I’ll do my very best, and so will your father.”

“I know.”

They were silent for a moment, then Talia asked; “Could you pick me up? It’s so nice when you hold me like that.”

“It’s as nice to hold you.” he told her sincerely as he gently lifted her, and held her close so she could hug him around his neck. “You’re… You’re wonderful Talia. You’re wonderful and magical and beautiful and adorable.”

“So are you, Mark. You’re all of those.”

They shared another warm moment.

“I’m a wizard, by inclination and talent and profession.” Talia then softly told him. “And I’d be a fool to choose otherwise, and pass up the opportunity for my parents’ training. I spend much of my days in the libraries and workshops of The Hall Of New Magic, learning. I haven’t chosen a specialty yet, but then I’m not expected to for a few centuries at least. Even Mother hasn’t chosen her specialty yet. Dalia and I… We were lucky to inherit Mother’s strength in the power, even more than we did Father’s intellect, because Mother is first in raw power among The High People. Dalia and I… Well, I’m right behind Mother, and I’ll probably equal her when my power has finished maturing in a decade or so.

“It’s very hard to talk about Dalia, but I must, if you are to know me, for she was half my soul. She was my boldness, and I was her thoughtfulness, we always said. We did everything together, and we were never apart except when she was with a boy, and she and I were equals as wizards as well. She made sure I was included in everything, for when I was too shy to ask, or to even bring myself to the attention of others, Dalia would drag me along, and I was always glad she did. We loved to go flying and swimming and to do other sports, to paint and sculpt, to sing and dance, to simply sit and enjoy the sun or the moon or the breeze, to laugh together about silly things, to visit friends.

“I need you for many things, my handsome great human, and I hope you don’t mind that one of them is to fill the hole in my heart and the empty place by my side left by her absence, for before, Dalia was always there for me.”

“I’ll do my best for you, Talia.” Mark murmured soothingly.

Just then Hilsith came over with a smile and two cups of tea. She handed them up to Mark and Talia and withdrew without a word.

“I also need you to help fill the absence of my family, for we were close, and got along well, and I loved them dearly.” Mark thoughtfully revealed. “My mother’s name was Helem. She was a trapper’s daughter, she was from the valley, and it’s from her I get my black hair, though I get my blue eyes from my father. Mother had brown eyes, and the most beautiful smile. She’d gone down to Finitra proper for a year when she was seventeen to attend school and find a husband, for there was no one for her in the valley.

“She came back with my father, who’d been a Ranger, a Scout, and an officer in the King’s Military. He had dark brown hair and just a bit of a limp, from an injury he’d gotten in the king’s service. He’d used it as an excuse to retire early so he could come to the valley with my mother, for he was only twenty-six at the time. He retired from the army that is, he remained a Ranger. I was closer to him than anyone, and I took after him a lot. The last few years I spent most of my days with him, learning my trade; learning to hunt and trap, and when not to hunt or trap, and why, clearing fire-breaks in the forest, felling the occasional tree and hauling it behind our mule to the mill, and much else as well. And I learned the ways of a warrior, in case there were poachers, or in case the king called forth the muster to defend the realm. So I learned the bow, as a hunter and as an archer as well, and the sword and the spear and shield, and how to fight unarmed or with anything that was handy. In the late afternoon we had book lessons.

“Not that there was no time for leisure, there was, and we had a wonderful life. I had a little brother, Steb, who was thirteen, and a little sister, Shelvy, who was ten. We and the others of the valley had plenty of time to go swimming and sliding and what have you, to build tree forts or snow forts, to go hiking and climbing and picnicking. In the evenings we’d play cards or dice or puzzle games, or read, sometimes to each other, or tell stories, or make music and sing. Every two weeks, everyone got together for a dance in the Tinlo’s barn. All the musical instruments in the valley were like community property; we all borrowed them around and learned them all. My father and I were making me a harp, with extra space between the strings for my thick fingers.”

He fell silent, and finished the rest of his tea.

Hilsith had noticed him tipping the tiny cup back, and she came over with the pot to refill it and Talia’s, smiled, and again left without a word.

“Did you have a sweet-heart?” Talia asked in a teasing voice.

“Kind of. Marja Dobbim was the only girl about the right age for me in the valley, and she realized it before me. When she was six, she told me I would marry her some day. I was nine at the time, and I told her she was crazy, and it was kind of a friendly joke between us for a long time. Then a year and a half ago, when she was twelve, she started dropping by for visits a lot more often. At first she said it was so she could visit my sister, but she somehow ended up spending most of the time with me, and after a while I noticed that my family always seemed to leave us alone together when Marja was over. We never even thought of kissing or anything, or even holding hands, but I had to admit that she was fun to spend time with, and I liked the special attention she gave me. I eventually came to realize what everyone else already seemed to know; that it really was almost certain that she would be my wife. She was thirteen, and just getting to the point where she was alluring, when… When… Sweet mother of all, Talia, she died right in my arms!” Mark broke down, sobbing and gasping. “She screamed and screamed, and everyone was screaming, and there was nothing I could do, and then she died, so horribly… so horribly.”