The Second Generation

“Don’t speak to me in that tone, young man!” “Gil, dear, this is a very serious matter,” Laurana said, using a soothing note to her son, laying a soothing hand on her husband’s arm. “When did you receive this invitation?” “A day or two ago, when you were both in Palanthas. If you’d been home, you would have known about it.” Again, the two looked at each other.

“I wish you’d told us earlier. What reply did you send?” His mother was clearly nervous, her hands twisted together. His father was furious, but Tanis kept silent. He was being forced to keep silent.

Gil knew himself suddenly, for the first time in his life, in control. It was a good feeling that eased the tight knot in his stomach.

“I haven’t sent my answer,” he said coolly. “I know this is political. I know this is serious. I waited to talk the matter over with you both.”

He had the satisfaction of seeing his parents look ashamed. Again, they had underestimated him.

“You did right, Son. I’m sorry we misjudged you.” Tanis sighed and scratched his bearded chin in frustration. “More than that, I’m sorry you had to be dragged into this. But I guess I should have expected it.”

“We both should have,” Laurana added. “We should have prepared you, Gil.”

Her voice dropped. She was talking to Tanis again. “It’s just that I never thought.. . He’s part human, after all. I didn’t suppose they would ...”

“Of course, they would. It’s obvious to me what they’re after...”

“What?” Gil demanded loudly. “What are they after?” Tanis didn’t seem to hear him, for he continued to talk to Laurana. “I had hoped he would be spared this, that he wouldn’t have to go through what you and I did. And if I have anything to say about it, he won’t.”

He turned to Gil. “Bring us the invitation, Son. Your mother will frame the proper refusal.”

“And that’s it,” Gil said, glaring from one to the other. “You won’t let me go.”

“Son, you don’t understand—” Tanis began, his temper starting to flare.

“You’re damn right I don’t understand! I—” Gil paused. Of course. It was all so simple, really. But he had to be careful. He mustn’t give himself away. He’d stopped talking in midsentence—a stupid move. They might suspect. How to cover it?

Diplomacy, learned from his mother.

“I’m sorry for yelling, Father,” Gil said contritely. “I know you have only my best interests at heart. It was foolish of me to want to go—to visit my mother’s homeland.”

“Someday, Son,” Tanis said, scratching his beard. “When you’re older...”

“Certainly, Father. Now, if you two will excuse me, I have my studies to attend to.” Turning, Gil walked out of the room with dignity. He shut the door behind him.

Pausing outside the door, he listened.

“We’ve known this was coming,” his mother was saying. “If s only right he should want to go.”

“Yes, and how will he feel when he sees the hate-filled glances, the curled lips, the subtle insults...”

“Maybe that won’t happen, Tanis. The elves have changed.”

“Have they, dearest?” Tanis asked her sadly. “Have they really?”

Laurana made no response, at least not one that Gil could hear.

He wavered in his decision. They were only trying to protect him, after all. Protect him! Yes, just as Caramon had tried to protect Palin. He had taken the Test and passed. He’d proven his worth—both to his father and to himself.

Resolve hardened, Gil ran down the hall, took the stairs to his room two at a time. Once inside, he closed and locked the door. He had kept the invitation hidden in a golden filigree box. Reading the invitation again, Gil scanned the lines until he found what he was searching for.

I will be staying at the Back Swan, an inn that is about a day’s ride from your parents' house. If you would care to meet me there, we could journey to Qualinesti together. Let me assure you, Prince Gilthas, I would be honored by your company and most pleased to introduce you into the very highest levels of elven society.

Your servant, Rashas of the House of Aronthulas.

The man’s name meant nothing to Gil, wasn’t important anyway. He dropped the invitation and gazed out his window, down the road that led south.

To the Black Swan.

Chapter Four

Wrapped in his cloak, Tanis Half-Elven was lying on the hard, cold ground. He was sleeping deeply, peacefully. But Caramon’s hand was on his shoulder, shaking him. Tanis, we need you! Tanis, wake up!

Go away, Tanis told him, rolling over, hunching himself into a ball. I don’t want to wake up. I’m tired of it all, so very tired. Why can’t you leave me alone? Let me sleep 'Tanis!”