Thwap Talk

Welp. I head into the...part of my story that's a little stressful 😅 CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN: A WAR My cousin, This is Rudric ban Yorna. I write to tell you that a terrible war has broken out between the Hollish and the Wanderers. The only reason I write to tell you this, is because many good soldiers were killed. There is now no peace in the Hollows. The other reason is because of your brother. The Wanderers have plans for you, Esben. I do not know what they may be, but nothing good. Your brother caught word of that and has been fighting ever since. I try to pull him out, but he is a stubborn minded man. You know this. Please, keep this in your prayers, and perhaps prepare the army. I cannot tell how this will go. When it is over, expect a lengthy letter, telling how many were slain. Do not mourn if my name is on the list. Instead, be happy! I go to join all of my ancestors. And more importantly, I go to be with my Maker. Yours, Rud. Esben’s hand shook as he read the paper. Then he fell to his knees, casting everything before the One that could help. With many fervent tears and many pleadings, he prayed that his brother would not die. Oh please, not Artham. He could not do this…alone. Sooooo....this happened....

Previous Chapter Chapter 48 Artham didn’t feel much like eating breakfast the next morning, but he did anyway, not wanting to face the day on an empty stomach. He was surprised when it awoke the appetite that had been missing for days, and when he had finished off his last large helping, his head was somewhat clearer and he felt much more ready for the next hours. That, and the hours of sleep he had managed the night before had made him feel much better.  Dr. Idrion checked on him before they left Oak Hill. Dr. Idrion said that at least the small gash on his forehead was mostly healed, but Artham turned to see Esben watching him skeptically, grimacing in a sympathetic wince. Artham touched his forehead, running his fingers over what he knew was quite a large bruise.  “Its not that bad, is it?” He asked his brother.  “Eh…” Esben tilted his head to the side, squinting. Finally he shook his head and pushed Artham toward the door.  “Just keep thinking that and don't look in the mirror,” he said quickly. Artham laughed ruefully.  Then the Doctor examined the stitches across his forearm, not bothering to hide his concerned expression. It was healing, by now had almost completely sealed, but it was taking longer than it should.  “Are you sure you’re up for going?” Esben asked, rubbing his leg after Artham thanked the doctor.  “It’s not a matter of whether I’m up for it or not, Es. I need to be there.” Dr. Idrion glanced up at Artham.  “I can’t keep you from going, Throne Warden, but I sincerely hope my services won’t be urgently needed again anytime soon.” Artham didn’t expect anything to happen at the Keep, but his nod was noncommittal, and he thought he heard Dr. Idrion let out an exasperated, resigned sigh.  Before the brothers left, Dr. Idrion offered Artham pain medicine again, but Artham declined, remembering how it had fogged his mind when he had taken it after being shot in the shoulder in Anniera.  His headache had improved some without it, and he wasn’t about to voluntarily take something that would muddle his thoughts when they felt clearer than they had been since he had gotten hurt.  The carriage ride to the Keep was mostly silent, since Esben stared out the window, deep in thought for most of it. It wasn’t hard to guess what he was thinking about.  Artham was deep in thought himself, but he was focused on the upcoming meeting. Its purpose was to discuss the appalling security breach that had allowed Wanderers into the Hollows, planning out the next steps the Durgans would take for the safety of their people, and if the Keeper had been anybody but Myndik Bunge, it would be the time for the Keeper to apologize profusely to the High King and Throne Warden. But Myndik Bunge was the Keeper, and Artham wasn’t expecting much. Thank the Maker, the alliance was already renewed, or else they would be in trouble.  The carriage pulled up to the Keep far sooner than Artham expected it too. This time they weren’t the last to arrive.  Only four chiefs were still in Ban Rona, two of which were unfortunately Myndik’s strongest allies. But this was something that mostly concerned the Wingfeathers and the Keeper, so their presence wasn’t quite so influential this time.  Two of the chiefs had already arrived. The first was Chief Kandir, who strode up to the brothers the moment they walked in the door, greeting them warmly and leading them to the large table, his eyes flashing anger upon seeing the brother’s wounds. And he did manage to see, even though Artham tried rather uncomfortably to hide his arm behind his back. The other Chief there was one who had been firmly on Myndik’s side.  Artham saw Esben hesitate slightly, as if he was waiting for the Chief to release a torrent of unkind words since Myndik wasn’t there to do it. Artham half expected it too, and when the Chief met his eyes and balked slightly, Artham realized he was glaring daggers at the Chief.  But instead the Chief stood, greeting them and bowing to the High King before returning to his seat, Artham blinked in surprise at the change and only returned the man’s greeting after Esben’s enthusiastic, welcoming, completely forgiving response.  When they sat, Kandir immediately asked how they were doing and to please explain what had happened. He turned to Artham.  “I’m greatly relieved to see you up and about, Throne Warden. Several of us were worried.”  “Thank you, sir. I- well, I’m relieved too,” he finished with a little laugh.  Chief Kandir smiled. “You should hear the rumors, lads!” he exclaimed. “At this point, my grandchildren have been bringing home tales of up to fifty Warriors and every form of heroic battle imaginable,” he said with a laugh.  Artham immediately looked extremely uncomfortable and Esben laughed at his brother’s expression.  “It was not like that,” Artham stated emphatically. “When I got there there were only thirteen left and someone else saved my life more than once.” Myndik stopped. “Thirteen? Then they were exaggerating, but not nearly as much as some of us imagined. And the fact that your life was on the line, and you managed to get both your brother and yourself out alive-they have never seen you as more of a hero.”  “I was knocked unconscious and literally had to be carried out!” Artham protested, fumbling awkwardly for words in his embarrassment. “Esben wasn’t. Talk about his heroics, not mine, okay?” Esben laughed again, greatly enjoying his older brother’s discomfort, especially because it was for no good reason. He snickered when Artham shot him a glare.  The other chief there pretended not to be hearing all this as he busied himself with something in his satchel.  “Then it seems that we must rely on the King to provide us with all the details,” Kandir said. “Back to my original question. As Myndik is delayed, please tell me what happened now, when you won't be interrupted.” Esben began, and Artham shot Kandir a grateful smile, and his next glance toward the completely silent, listening Chief across the table had lost its sharpness.  Esben told Kandir what had happened in detail, with Artham slowly and with some difficulty, relating what he could remember when his point of view was needed.  Artham listened attentively as well while Esben talked, because despite the days of healing, the nightmares, and Esben reminding him of the specifics multiple times, the memory was still fractured and blurry in places, as if his mind was forcefully resisting remembering. Now he felt that it might be as complete as it would ever be.  The Chieftess of the Outer Vales had entered during the conversation, and now the only person absent was the one person who actually needed to be there.  Esben sighed, and though he hid it well from the Chiefs around the table, Artham could see anger and impatience in his eyes.  “Where in Aerwiar is the Keeper?” he finally asked, only allowing a tiny bit of his frustration to vent through his words. At that very instant, the door banged open.  Artham cringed slightly, sincerely hoping that Myndik hadn’t heard Esben.  “Hello, Wingfeathers,” Myndik said, the usual contempt in his voice. One other Chief, Millan of Ban Rugan, entered with him. Artham was seated the closest to the door, so he stood up and stepped forward with a nod, extending his hand as he looked Myndik in the eye.  “Good morning, Keeper,” he said as civilly and respectfully as he could, hoping to smooth over any hostilities in the works.  The Keeper looked back at him with an unreadable expression and accepted the handshake. Artham squinted slightly as what should have simply been a firm clasp went what would have been a little too tight for comfort under normal circumstances sent a painful twinge through the muscles that had only started healing from the deep gash.  Myndik glanced down at the long row of stitches across the dark, twisting cut and let go ofArtham’s hand, looking away as he strode to his throne-like seat, completely ignoring Esben’s very slightly less obvious greeting. That was an accident, right? Artham thought as he resumed his seat, gingerly rubbing his arm and wrist for a second.  He glanced over and saw Kandir glaring at Myndik and silently thanked the Maker for a Hollish chief so firmly on their side, especially since he could argue with and object as strongly as he liked to the Keeper without putting international relations in jeopardy, unlike the Wingfeathers.  “Let’s get this over with, Wingfeathers,” Myndik growled. “I want you to get out of my country and take your trouble with you.” Apparently he believed that he could be more openly hostile with only four other chiefs there, two of which he believed were firmly on his side.  Esben exhaled slowly. After counting through the days in his mind, Artham realized with some surprise that they were expected back in Anniera the next night. That meant leaving the next afternoon. They had been in the Hollows for nearly two months.  Esben opened his mouth to speak but Chief Kandir spoke before him.  “Myndik, when are you going to realize that your conduct towards the High King and Throne Warden is absolutely shameful?” Then he turned to the brothers. “I will say in Myndik’s stead what any honorable Keeper would already have told you. First, I can’t tell you how sorry I and some of the other Chiefs are that such a thing happened to you on the soil of our homeland. We apologize that our own forces of Durgans from our own clans weren’t more alert and that they failed to prevent the circumstances.  “Secondly, that all but one of the Chiefs,” he shot a glare at the one sitting next to Myndik- “have agreed that if such circumstances ever occur again, we will stand by Anniera’s king. as long as we stand, the Hollows will never again be dishonored by allowing such warriors to infiltrate our home and attack our greatest ally while we stand idly by. High King, although these decisions were not charted in any document, you have the full allegiance of five of the Green Hollows’ seven tribes, no matter what the Keeper says.”  Chieftess Narinda nodded her agreement and smiled warmly at the brothers. The other Chief nodded too. Kandir stood and bowed to Esben, who quickly bid him rise, his mouth slightly open in surprise,his eyes alight with gratitude as he searched for words. Artham couldn’t hide his grin.  Well that made just about everything a lot easier, he thought. If that man or someone like him was Keeper of the Hollows, our countries could accomplish great things together. Myndik clenched his jaw.  “Ye could be removed from yer position as a Chief, Kandir,” he growled.  “Again with this, Myndik? No, I don't think so. First, you don't have one decent reason to present to the council. Second, you don’t have nearly enough support to do that. And on a side note, you seriously need to rethink whatever grudge you have against Anniera’s rulers.” Esben glanced unbelievingly at his older brother.  Did all of that seriously just happen without me saying a word? He thought with a grin. Thank you, Maker, for Chief Kandir.  There was a long pause, and everyone was grateful when Artham broke the silence.  “Keeper, there…there remains only our concern for Ban Rona. We don’t know if there are any Warriors still here that would compromise the safety of the Hollowsfolk. Are your Durgans planning on taking action about this?”  Myndik nodded tersely.  “One of me officers has questioned the captured Wanderer several times. If the word of a Wanderer can be trusted, there aren’t any left in the Hollows. But it can’t, and even if it could, that one’s lied to me men more than once. I’ve got my Durgans searching our perimeters now.” Esben glanced at Artham with concern in his eyes. He had been hoping that somehow Myndik didn’t know about Aro.  Myndik stood up. He hadn’t even taken off his coat coming inside.  “I have more important things to do than this. If ye have nothing else to say, Esben, then I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon at the docks. A few of the Chiefs and myself will be there to see you off.” He paused a moment and looked at Esben like he wanted to say something more, then turned and stalked out, banging the door behind him.  “Two questions,” Esben stated, turning to his brother. “Do you think that was almost an apology?”  Artham thought for a moment. “No. I seriously doubt it.”  “Yeah, me too,” Esben said, then continued. “Two. Are we really done dealin with that now?” He asked, gesturing to the door Myndik had just walked out of and referring to every problem he had caused them since they had arrived.  “Considering that we only have to talk to him one more time on this trip, which is when we leave, yes. We are done dealing with that. Until next time, of course.” Esben’s eyes widened. “Nope!” He shouted. “We’re not thinking about next time right now. Hopefully next time is not for a very, very, very long time,” he immediately said. “No offense to you,” he corrected himself, turning to the other three Chiefs at the table.  “None taken,” Narinda said, and the other two nodded. “We can only apologize for Myndik’s behavior, and hope that when ‘next time’ comes, he’ll show himself more worthy of his title.  “Thank you, Chieftess Narinda,” Esben said,nodding his head slightly and turning back to Artham as the three chiefs began gathering their things.  “Third question-” Esben began, but Artham interrupted.  “You said you only had two,” he said with a smirk.  “Okay but now I have three. When are we going to eat lunch? I’m starving!”  Artham laughed. “Esben, how can you be starving? We just ate breakfast.”  “You ate breakfast. I was nervous about this meeting and gave it to Connolin.” The dog at Artham’s side cocked his head and wagged his tail as if confirming Esben’s words.  “anyway, potentially stressful meetings make me hungry,” he finished, smiling then standing up to say goodbye to the Chiefs as they left the hall.  The rest of the morning was far more pleasant than either brother had expected. Chief Kandir insisted that they come with him to the inn he was staying at and eat something with him. He told them that he wouldn’t be able to see them off the next day because there were important matters he needed to deal with in Ban Soran. To say the least, the brothers enjoyed the conversation they had with him far more than the words they had exchanged with any other Chief.  When they got back to Oak Hill,Esben immediately headed to his room. Artham intended to go to his own room and get his things together for the trip back, but he paused with Esben in the hall first. His brothers expression had turned serious and thoughtful.  “Have you decided what to do?” Esben knew he was asking about Aro.   “I’m trying,” Esben said, looking tired. “But Myndik knowing about it and considering him a criminal doesn’t help. It complicates things a lot. It could take the decision out of my hands altogether, if Myndik decides that crimes committed in the Hollows should be punished there. And the penalty is the same.” Artham nodded gravely, and after a pause,  “Don’t worry about Myndik, Es. I’ll back whatever you decide, and if Myndik opposes you…I won’t let him.”  “How?” Esben asked, looking up with a wry smile at the absolute confidence and determination in Artham’s words. Artham shrugged.  “I’ll figure something out.”

Previous Chapter Chapter 47 Artham quickly left the Keep, barely glancing at the prison guards. Entirely too focused on what had just been said in the dungeon and everything that it meant, he didn’t even remember that he had come to the Keep by carriage. He walked back to Oak Hill, going by a back road that was mostly unpopulated at this hour of the morning. It wasn’t through the woods though. Something in him didn’t want to go back that way, at least not yet. The sun was out and shining brightly, and most of the snow had melted away. It had been more than a week since he had been hurt, and in that time the air had filled with the fresh promise of spring. It was almost too bright though, because when he was almost back at Oak Hill a wave of dizziness struck him. The ground seemed to shift slightly and for a moment the shadows grew darker as the light places blazed. He paused, putting a hand to one of the trees lining the road, closing his eyes and touching his head, wincing at the headache that had started pounding again. After a moment he walked on, regretfully remembering the carriage. He was only a few minutes away from Oak Hill though, and by now he was sick of the constant exhaustion, pain and confusion. He hated not even being able to walk home from the Keep without starting to hurt again and feeling like he was about to pass out. It had only been eight days. More than a week. Much longer and it would probably drive him crazy. He knew he should be resting more so he could heal better, and he really did try. Even with all of Dr. Idrion’s cautions and warnings, it was ridiculously hard for someone who was so used to being constantly on the move. He made it back to Oak Hill and quickly made for his room. Connolin had been waiting for him at the door and followed him, tail wagging happily. Artham ignored the few servants and pages he passed, and brushed quickly by Thaerin. He felt a little bad about this, but he needed to be alone to be able to think. Also he felt like he was about to collapse and if head going to, he needed to be somewhere he could rest without anyone else around. Esben heard his brother’s uneven footsteps storm down the hall and into Artham’s room. He set down his paintbrush, tilting his head towards the wall as he listened. He heard the door bang open and after a moment slam closed. The sound was muffled then, but the windows of both rooms were open, so Esben heard Artham’s quiet grunt of pain and low, shuddering sigh. He closed his sketchbook and stood up, walking out his door and just a few steps down the hall to his brother’s. He stood at the door, listening, but he didn’t hear anything else. He knocked warily and heard movement inside, a chair scraping across the floor. “Come in, Es,” Artham called from inside. Esben opened the door and entered. Artham stood next to his desk, staring out the window with his back to his brother, rubbing at his wrist and elbow, avoiding the bandage still around his forearm. “What happened?” Esben asked, gesturing to the bandage. “Forgot about the arm again, pushed the door open and slammed it shut,” Artham muttered. “It's not bad though.” Esben paused for a minute. “And…what happened with…Aro?” Artham sighed heavily. “Aro was the one who shot at us in Anniera. Not only did he spy on us, he tried to murder you. He hurt both of us.” Esben stared at him with an expression of shock. Artham watched as his brother remembered, his thoughts flying back to that day. “Th-that was him?” he asked incredulously. “Yeah.” “Oh…what’s going to happen to him?” Esben asked, concern and distress showing plainly on his face. Artham put a hand to his aching head. “You know what the law is, Es. He tried to assassinate the High King,” he said, exhaustion edging his voice. Esben shook his head. “I still can’t believe he did that!” “Why not?” Artham asked angrily. “He didn’t hesitate to help them try to kill you again last time. He’s been spying on us and betraying us this whole time! Every time you were in danger, it was because he made it possible.” “It’s not like all of this was his fault, Artham! He wasn’t the one who planned it, he wasn’t in charge.” Artham shook his head very slightly. “You know that doesn’t change what he did.” “He’s younger than I am!” “He certainly doesn’t act younger than you. Stop thinking about him like a kid. He’s a Wanderer and a warrior. For the Wanderers to trust him to do something as important as killing the High King of Anniera? He’s probably done things you would never dream of doing.” “You can’t just assume that, Artham,” Esben protested. “Why are you defending him, Esben!? He tried to end your life!” Artham realized that their voices had risen to shouts. Pain was hammering in his head and his vision was getting a little blurry again. “Because he saved yours!” “What are you talking about?” Artham asked quietly. Yelling hurt. Esben started to answer and then stopped, looking out the window. There was a short pause. “Es, you still haven’t told me what happened after I was knocked out.” Esben still hesitated. But he was going to have to tell Artham at some point, and it seemed now was the time. * Eight days earlier… Esben leaned hard against the wall, eyes tightly closed, hands pressed to his leg and trying hard not to pass out. His head was spinning and the pain in his leg made it worse. He knew Artham was fighting the leader. But the last thing he had seen before his opponent had slashed him across the leg and before Esben had defeated him was Artham pinning the leader to the ground. A long, metallic ringing echoed in his head, from the exhaustion and pain and the horror of everything that had already happened. When it finally faded, the cabin was full of sound. A shout and a loud crash and a cry of pain. He looked up in time to see both Artham and Ryith hit the ground. His eyes went wide and he stepped forward, stumbling before he steadied himself. He only glanced at Ryith long enough to see that he wasn’t going to get back up again. But his sights were on his brother, collapsed on the dirt floor. He ran over, limping badly and gritting his teeth. He went to his knees beside the still form on the ground. “Artham! Artham, can you hear me?” Esben practically shouted, grabbing his brother’s shoulder and breathing hard. Artham was hurt in too many small ways but Esben’s eyes were on the long, jagged gash that tore across Artham’s forearm, and his head. It had already started to bruise but whatever had hit him had done it hard enough to leave a deep cut on his forehead. Esben’s chest was heaving and panic was rising slowly inside him. Every second seemed like hours. Artham’s breathing was shallow and his skin was cold, and Esben told himself it was just because of the winter outside. Esben was no doctor, but he could tell that Artham was bleeding too much, too fast. He ripped a large strip of cloth from his tunic and pressed the wad to Artham’s arm. “Artham please wake up!” He couldn’t do this. Not again. He couldn’t lose someone else he loved. Maker, let him be alright! Don’t take him from me too! His hands were shaking and his mind was racing and he didn’t know what to do. The cold had turned his fingers numb and clumsy as he tried to tie the cloth around his brother’s arm. Whatever he was trying to do, it wasn’t working. At all. He couldn’t leave his brother like this. But he needed to go get help, back at the town or at the Keep. But even if he did would he get back too late? Maker help us! He prayed desperately through his halting, gasping breaths and the tears that he blinked away. One more awful, frozen second passed. Then he heard barking. Barking and something crashing wildly through the woods. A dirty, damp Connolin bounded through the open door with a growl. “Connolin?” Esben looked at him in surprise. The dog ran around the room, back and forth between the fallen Warriors, growling furiously. When he was sure that there was no more immediate danger, in the room he raced over to Artham and Esben. He sniffed at Artham, nudging his head under Artham’s hand. When Artham didn’t move,he flopped to the ground and put his head on Artham’s chest, whining and looking up at Esben. There were more noises from the woods now, running footsteps and shouts. Esben pushed himself up and stepped forward, intending to run for the door, but he had forgotten about his wounded leg and it crumpled beneath him when he put weight on it. He winced as he got up again and made himself keep going. He stepped outside, and the night air was even colder than it was in the cabin. He recognized Dru’s voice above the others. “Over here!” Esben shouted, cupping his hands to his mouth. “We’re here! Help!” The tone of the voices changed, relieved and eager. Now he could see lamplight flickering through the woods. Dru broke through the tree line, not bothering to brush away the twigs in his hair. “Esben,” he shouted, relief washing over his face. As he ran up he turned and called something to to the Durgans behind him. “Where’s Artham?” he asked in concern. “Inside. He needs help,” Esben gasped, limping as he went back to the cabin and to his brother. Dru, Aspen, Josif and Io followed close behind him. They stood appalled for a second in the doorway, looking around the small room where so much had happened. Dru was the first to go into action. “Josif,” he said, turning to his friends. “See what you can do for Artham. It doesn’t have to be much, just hold him over until we get him to the Keep. Aspen, you’re the fastest. Run back to Oak Hill and get Dr. Idrion. Now.” Aspen nodded, turned, and ran. Dru stepped outside for a moment. “Durgans, please search the area and make sure there aren’t any more Wanderers. A few of you help Io and me get the Throne Warden and the King to the Keep.” Dru was not in a position to command the Durgans, but the commander of the group turned and relayed the same orders, and in a moment everyone was doing something. Esben had gone back inside, and when Dru stepped into the cabin again, he was kneeling beside Artham, watching Josif wrap a long, thick strip of cloth torn from his cloak tightly around Artham’s forearm, Josif’s face intense in concentration. Esben watched and didn’t move, ignoring his own pain, his wide eyes not leaving his brother’s face. His shoulders bent forward slightly and his hands rested on his knees. Dru stepped over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “It's going to be okay,” he said softly. Esben shook his head. “You can’t know that!” He said, wanting with everything in him to believe Dru’s words but so, so afraid that they weren’t true. * Esben didn’t tell everything to Artham, but he told him enough. “…so Dru and Io got you back to the Keep, and when we got there, Dr. Idrion was waiting for us,” he finished. Artham had held his brother’s gaze the whole time they talked. He knew he wasn’t getting all the details, but he wasn’t going to press for them. “So what does this have to do with Aro?” He asked. “You say he had something to do with saving my life. It sounds like it was you, Dru, Aspen and the others.” “Just listen for a minute, okay? When Aro ran, he went to the Keep. He got there before Connolin. He was the one who convinced them to come and told them where it was, and they got to the cabin right on time. He risked his life. And when we got to the Keep, Dr. Idrion-” Esben paused. “Have you ever seen him focused on something really, really serious?” It's like he doesn’t see or hear anything else. I probably asked him about a hundred questions in the first five seconds, and he didn’t answer a single one. He just kept right on working on you, with this incredibly serious,focused look on his face. Thaerin had to make me sit down to work on my leg, and he tried to answer my questions. The thing is, after he had done everything he could, Dr. Idrion said that if we had come just a little bit later…that you…you might not have made it. If Aro hadn’t run and gotten the guys at the Keep, then maybe you wouldn’t be standing here right now. It certainly wasn’t all his doing, but he had a part in saving your life.” Esben finished and exhaled slowly, watching as Artham thought. Artham leaned back a little,putting his hand to his desk to steady himself. He didn’t quite know what to do with this new information and what it added to the situation. “Even if that’s true, he still tried to kill you. And because of what he did, because of what he made possible-” he broke off for a moment. “Es, I had to kill people to make sure you got out of there alive.So did you. I can’t go back from that.” Artham avoided meeting his brother’s eyes and looked out the window again. He was still dealing with this, yet another tangled, messy problem that came from the events of that winter. He kept telling himself that he had done the right thing. He knew that he would do it all over again to save Esben, but the lives that had been taken at the end of his sword still weighed heavily on him. He knew that Esben was probably feeling some of the same things, but in his brother’s case, most of it had been purely self-defense, and when he had gotten his hands free there hadn’t been a choice. It had all been to protect Esben. He knew he had been doing the right thing, but that didn’t stop the thoughts that came in the aftermath. There was silence after that, and Artham realized that Esben was waiting for something. He turned and met his brother’s eyes. “So because of that, you want Aro to die too? Because that’s what the law requires,” Esben stated. Artham stopped. He shook his head haltingly. “No. No…I don't want that.” Esben sighed. “I didn’t think you did.” “But what can you do about it? If that’s the law?” Artham asked. He finally sat down in his armchair and almost unintentionally put a hand to his head again, trying to focus on the conversation through the dizzy throbbing that was muddling his thoughts again. “I can pardon him,” Esben said quietly, staring at the ground. When Artham looked up, Esben’s brow was furrowed in through and he had the frustrated, even miserable look of someone who has been working through a problem for a long time and just found out it was a lot more complicated than he had originally thought. “We have a meeting with the Keeper and three other chiefs tomorrow to discuss everything. Most of the chiefs already went home, and Bonifer delayed the meeting as long as possible. Let’s not bring this up, okay? I…I’m the only one who can decide this and the last thing I need is Myndik Bunge’s opinion.” “I won’t,” Artham wanted to add more, to say something or offer his brother his help, but the High King was the only one who could issue a pardon. Esben was already feeling the full weight of that on his shoulders, and Artham himself was having a hard time sorting through his pain-tangled thoughts. He didn’t need to add them to everything Esben was weighing into his decisions. Especially since he wasn’t sure how he felt about Aro. At the moment, the only thing he could think of was the black figure on the roof, Esben’s hiss of pain, everything he had felt seeing his little brother’s arm and hand smeared red and his own hurt from the arrow to his shoulder. “I'll try to decide after the council meeting tomorrow. Maybe the day after.” Esben’s face was still concentrated in thought. “I’m going to see if I can talk to Bonifer about this,” he said, starting towards the door. “And you should get some rest. Is your head hurting again? You look really tired.” “I’m tired of resting,” Artham muttered, letting out the first thing that came to his mind. Esben laughed a little, and Artham smiled to hear something somewhat happy from his brother. When Esben closed the door behind him, Artham closed his eyes. He fully intended to stay awake and wrestle with the hundreds of new thoughts the day had awoken, but as he slowly let himself relax, he fell fast asleep in the chair.