The Second Generation

Wordlessly, his mother handed the scroll over. Gil read it slowly. He could read human script as easily as elven, but he had some trouble deciphering Caramon’s gigantic, round-handed, and excited scrawl.

“Caramon says here he made a mistake. He says he should have respected Palin’s decision to study magic instead of trying to force him to be something he isn’t. Caramon says he’s proud of Palin for passing the Test.”

“Caramon says that now,” Tanis returned. “He would have said something far different if his boy had died in the tower.”

“At least he gave him a chance, which is more than you will me,” Gil retorted. “You keep me locked up like some sort of prize bird—”

Tanis’s face darkened. Laurana intervened hastily. “Now, Gil, please don’t start. It’s nearly dinnertime. If you and your father will get washed up, I’ll tell Cook that we’re—”

“No, Mother, don’t change the subject! It won’t work this time!” Gil held the scroll tightly, drawing reassurance from it. “Palin’s not much older than I am. And now he’s off traveling with his brothers. He’s seeing things, doing things! I’ve never been farther from home than the fencerow!”

“It’s not the same, Gil, and you know it,” Tanis said quietly. “Palin’s human—”

“I’m part human,” Gil returned with bitter accusation.

Laurana paled, lowered her eyes. Tanis was silent a moment, his lips, beneath the beard, compressed. When he spoke, it was in the infuriatingly calm tone that drove Gil to distraction.

“Yes, you and Palin are near the same age, but human children mature faster than elven children—”

“I’m not a child!”

The knot inside Gil twisted until he feared it would turn him inside out.

“And you know, mapete, that with your headaches, travel would be—” Laurana began.

The knot snapped.

“Stop calling me that!” Gil shouted at her.

Laurana’s eyes widened in hurt and surprise. Gil was remorseful. He hadn’t meant to wound her, but he also felt a certain amount of satisfaction.

“You’ve called me that name since I was a baby,” he continued in a low voice.

“Yes, she has.” Tanis’s face, beneath the beard, was dark with anger. “Because she loves you. Apologize to your mother!”

“No, Tanis,” Laurana intervened. “I owe Gil the apology. He is right.” She smiled faintly. “It is a silly name for a young man who is taller than I am. I am sorry, my son. I won’t do it again.”

Gil hadn’t expected this victory. He didn’t quite know how to handle

it. He decided to ride on, press home the advantage against a weakened opponent. “And I haven’t had a headache for months now. Perhaps I’m rid of them.”

“But you don’t know that, Son.” Tanis was trying hard to control himself.

“What would happen if you fell ill while you were on the road, far from home?”

“Then I’d deal with it,” Gil retorted. “I’ve heard you tell about times when Raistlin Majere was so sick his brother had to carry him. But that never stopped Raistlin. He was a great hero!”

Tanis started to say something. Laurana gave him a warning glance, and he kept quiet.

“Where is it you want to go, Son?” she asked.

Gil hesitated. The moment had arrived. He hadn’t expected the subject to come up quite this way, but it had and he knew he should take advantage of it. “My homeland. Qualinesti.” “Out of the question.” “Why, Father? Give me one good reason!” “I could give you a dozen, but I doubt you’d understand them. For starters, Qualinesti isn’t your home—”

“Tanis, please!” Laurana turned to Gil. “What put this idea into your head, mapet—Son?”

“I received an invitation, a very handsome invitation, very proper and fitting to my station as an elven prince.” Gil emphasized the words.

His mother and father exchanged alarmed glances. Gil ignored them and continued on. “The invitation is from one of the senators of the Thalas-Enthia. The people are having some type of celebration to welcome Uncle Porthios back from Silvanesti, and this senator thinks I should be in attendance. He says my absence from formal occasions like this has been noticed. People are starting to say that I am ashamed of my elven heritage.”

“How dare they do this?” Tanis spoke with barely concealed fury. “How dare they interfere? Who is this senator? The meddling ass. I’ll—”

“Tanthalas, listen to me.” Laurana called him by his full elven name only when the matter was serious. “There’s more to it than that, I fear.”

She drew near him; they spoke together in an undertone. Whispering. Always the whispers. Gil tried to look as if he hadn’t the slightest interest in what they were saying, though he listened closely. He caught the words “political” and “move cautiously” but nothing more.

“This does concern me, you know, Father,” Gil stated abruptly. "You weren’t invited.”