“Don’t you mean he’s the spitting image of King Terindel?” The venom in her voice could have melted stone.
Silence ruled. Khaemezra had struck too close with that comment. Doc needed time to recover from the attack. “Teraeth should have named himself after you,” he finally said.
“Teraeth feels the lineage can be redeemed.” There was a brief pause. “Don’t call him a fool, just because you don’t agree.” Sounds of swishing fabric, growing soft. She was leaving, walking to the door.
“Just be careful, Khae. Don’t make the same mistake with this one that you made last time.”
She laughed. “As if I’ve only made that mistake once.”
I held my breath as silence once more filled the room, interrupted only by the soft scuffs of the tiny voramer woman retreating.
A booted toe nudged my shoulder. “How much of that did you hear?”
I rolled over as I looked at my hands. Any injuries on them were long gone. I assumed I had Khaemezra to thank for that. “So Valathea was sentenced to the Traitor’s Walk. What happened to her?”
“So, you heard most of our conversation, if not all of it.” He scowled. “Get up. It’s time to continue your lessons.”
“Answer my questions first.”
“I’m not here to answer your questions. I’m here to teach you how to fight.”
I pretended I hadn’t heard him. “You’re not here as a favor to Therin or Khaemezra. You’re here because I’m descended from Terindel. Not from you, technically, as you aren’t in Terindel’s original body anymore. But I’m guessing—” I made a moue. “What was your daughter’s name? Valrashar? I’m guessing she ended up being sold as a slave. She was supposed to be executed along with your wife, Valathea, but someone decided to make a little metal on the side and she ended up being owned by the D’Mons, where she gave birth to Pedron and Tishar. Am I close?”
I thought he was going to ignore me. He picked up the loaf of dark bread and dropped it down on the ground next to me. Then he sat down on the stone floor, pulling his feet up into his lap.
“They told me Valrashar had died fighting,” he said. “I never looked for her. My wife…” He grimaced. “I traveled deep into the Korthaen Blight, all the way to Kharas Gulgoth. I was too late to save her.”
My throat tightened at the grief in Terindel’s voice, still raw after centuries. “I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t have anywhere to go after that. Word had spread about who I really was. No vané would have anything to do with me. I met a woman—” He stopped and laughed at some secret humor. “I met a woman in Kharas Gulgoth. She’d been traveling with Valathea, been kind to her, so even though she was Quuros and human, I stayed my hand. I helped her. She was widowed herself, pregnant with her late husband’s child, and I guess it seemed fitting that I protect her. Maybe I was just looking to do something right for once in my life.”
“What … what happened?” I took the opportunity to finish off the rest of the bread.
“When Elana Milligreest went back to Khorvesh, I went with her. Nothing came of it for years; we were both in mourning. But I helped her raise her son and I came to view them as a new family. Sadly, they were a mortal family. Elana died and went to the Land of Peace and I looked after her children, and then their children. I became that odd cousin or uncle who’s always popping in for holidays with gifts from his travels. I was going by the name Nikali when Qoran’s mother asked if I might keep an eye on her troublemaking son, when he went to the Capital.”
I blinked. “Nikali Milligreest? You’re Nikali Milligreest, the swordsman? My father Surdyeh used to tell stories about you. The one where you fought off those men behind the Temple of Khored and how you defeated—” I cleared my throat. “—how you defeated Gadrith the Twisted.”
He snickered. “I love how awestruck you sounded right there. Several-thousand-year-old vané king? Whatever. Khorveshan ne’er-do-well who killed a few idiots in drunken duels? Set up the altar, boys, it’s prayer time.”
“Well, I … I mean … there’s some pretty cool stories about you, that’s all. What happened? You get tired of it all and change your name to Doc, open a bar?”
“One gets tired of the hero worship. I also adopted a daughter.”
“Tauna. I’ve met her. Khorveshan, right?”
“Naturally. She’s a Milligreest actually, a second cousin of Qoran’s. Truth is, I had a lot of fun tagging around with Qoran. Got into some trouble, did a good deed or two. And then…” He shook his head. “I never realized my Valrashar had been a slave in the Capital the whole time. Then I met Therin. The moment I saw him—I knew what must have happened. Too late by then. She’d been dead at least a decade. Onto her next life and rebirth, I suppose.”
“Does Therin know?”
“Gods no. Hey buddy of mine, did you know that I was once your great-grandfather? Though not anymore, because I’ve switched bodies since then. Oh, also, your aunt Tishar is technically the long-lost heir to the Kirpis vané throne, and if anything happens to her, you’re next. Best not to tell anyone; it would be awkward all around, but most especially for the Kirpis vané.”
“Yes, I suppose the fellow currently on the vané throne might take objection to having competition.”
“What competition? Tishar’s welcome to lay claim to the Kirpis. I’m sure Quur won’t mind at all.” He rolled his eyes.
I stood, trying to ignore the way my body protested. I couldn’t believe how sore I was. “If you don’t mind, I have something else I need to do.”
Doc crossed his arms over his chest. “I do mind. I played story time with you. Now comes practice.”
“Sorry for giving the wrong impression, but I wasn’t asking permission.” I grinned at him as I backpedaled toward the door.
He gave me a flat stare. “When you’re done trying to goad the Old Man into swallowing you whole, get your ass back here. We have a lot of ground to cover.”
I tipped my head in his direction and ran.
* * *
I was a little surprised when he let me go like that. I’d assumed he’d try to stop me, and I hadn’t been sure what I could do about it. I had a lot of questions, and nothing at all like answers.
But at least I had a plan. Well, it was kind of a plan.
If you didn’t look too closely.
My heart slammed inside my chest as I raced back down to the beach. Smart? No, not smart, but I wanted off the island, and from what Doc had just said, I had the means. The Old Man wasn’t going to kill me. He didn’t dare unless his fervent desire was that he die and I become an incredibly destructive dragon. So, I could call his bluff, and if I did that, well … I would be free to leave the island whenever I wanted.
When I made it back to the beach, everything was still except for the sound of crashing waves. No bird call interrupted; the seagulls had gone elsewhere to hunt. The jungle noises and the warbles of hunting drakes didn’t carry this far down to the black sand.