The Second Generation

Dalamar, invisible to everyone in the room except Tanis, walked over, came to stand directly in front of the Kagonesti. The arrow was now pointed at the dark elf’s breast. With a sudden movement, Dalamar grabbed hold of the bow, yanked it away from the guard. Tanis—both fists clenched—clouted the guard on the back of the head. The Kagonesti went down without a sound.

Alhana didn’t move, didn’t speak. She gazed at the fallen guard in bewilderment. Unable to see either Tanis or Dalamar, it must have looked to her as if the guard had just fought with himself and lost.

Tanis took off his ring. Dalamar threw off his magical cloak.

Alhana shifted her disbelieving gaze to them both.

“Your Majesty,” Tanis said, hastening to her side. “Are you all right?”

“Tanis Half-Elven?” Alhana stared dazedly at him.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He touched her hand, let her know he was flesh and blood, and began to untie her bindings. “Did they hurt you?”

“No, I am fine,” Alhana said. She rose hurriedly. “Come with me. We have no time to lose. We must stop Rashas ...”

Her voice died. She had seen the expression on Tanis’s face.

“Too late, Your Majesty,” he said quietly. “When I left, Gilthas was taking the vow. Before that, the Thalas-Enthia decreed that you and Porthios are to be exiled.”

“Exiled,” Alhana repeated.

The blood drained from her cheeks, left her as pale as if it had taken her life with it. Her gaze went involuntarily to Dalamar, a dark elf—the personification of her doom. Shuddering, she averted her gaze, put her hand over her eyes.

Dalamar’s lip curled. “You have no right to turn your face from me, my lady. Not now.”

Alhana flinched. Shivering, she pressed her hand over her mouth and leaned unsteadily on the back of a chair.

“Dalamar—” Tanis began harshly.

“No, Half-Elven,” Alhana said softly. “He is right.”

Lifting her head, the mass of dark hair falling disheveled around her beautiful face, she held out her hand to him. “Please forgive me, Dalamar. You speak the truth. I am now what you are. You saved my life. Accept my apology and my gratitude.”

Dalamar’s hands remained folded in the sleeves of his black robes. His face was ice hard with disdain, frozen by bitter memory.

Alhana said nothing. Slowly, her hand lowered.

Dalamar gave a sigh that was like the wind in the leaves of the aspen trees. His black robes rustled. He touched Alhana’s fingertips, barely brushing them, as if fearing he might inadvertently do her some harm.

“You are wrong, Alhana Starbreeze,” he said quietly. “They may send you from your homeland, term you 'darkelf,' but you will never be what I am. I broke the law. I did it knowingly. I would do it again. They had every right to cast me out.”

Pausing, keeping hold of her hand in his, he looked at her intently, spoke earnestly. “I foresee dark days ahead for you, my lady. If you or your child are ever in need of aid or comfort, and you are not afraid to turn to me, I will do whatever is in my power to assist you.”

Alhana stared at him wordlessly. Then she smiled, pale, wan. “Thank you for your offer. I am grateful. And, I do not believe that I would be afraid.”

“Davat! Where are you?” An angry voice sounded from below. “Why aren’t you at your post? You men, over here!”

“It’s Rashas,” said Tanis, listening. “Probably with more of his Kagonesti slaves.”

Dalamar nodded. “I was expecting him. He must have guessed we’d come here. We could make our stand.” The dark elf looked at Tanis grimly, expectantly. “Fight them...”

“No! There will be no fighting!” Alhana caught hold of Tanis’s sword arm, held him back as he would have drawn his blade. “If blood is shed here, all chance for peace is lost!”

Tanis stood irresolute, his sword half in and half out of its sheath. In the rooms below, Rashas could be heard, dispersing his guards, sending them throughout the house.

Alhana’s grip tightened. “I am no longer queen. I have no right to command. Therefore, I beg of you ...”

Tanis was angry, frustrated. He wanted to fight, would have enjoyed nothing more. “After what they did to you, Alhana? You’ll meekly let them exile you?”

“If the alternative is killing my own people, yes!” Alhana said calmly.

“Make your decision, Tanis!” Dalamar warned. The footsteps were very near.

“You’re too late,” Tanis said, thrusting his sword back into its scabbard. “You know that, Alhana. Too late.”

She tried to speak, but her words came out as a sigh. Her hand slid nervelessly off Tanis’s arm.

“In that case,” said Dalamar, “I will take my leave. Do you travel with me, Half-Elven?”

Tanis shook his head.

The dark elf folded his hands in his sleeves. “Farewell, Queen Alhana. Walk with the gods. And do not forget my offer.”

He bowed to her respectfully, spoke words of magic, and was gone.

Alhana stared at where he had been standing. “What is happening in this world?” she murmured. “I am betrayed by my friends ... befriended by my foes ...”

“Evil times,” Tanis replied, voice bitter. 'The night returns.”