When dinner was finished and Liria had taken the younger children off to bed, Bek left Quentin to speak alone with his father about the Druid and took a long, hot bath to wash off the dirt from their outing. He gave himself over to the heat and damp, letting go of his concerns long enough to close his eyes and soak away his weariness. On finishing, he went to Quentin’s room and found his cousin sitting on the bed holding the old sword and studying it thoughtfully.
Quentin looked up as he entered. “Father says we can go.”
Bek nodded. “I never thought he wouldn’t. Walker wouldn’t be foolish enough to lie to us about something like that.” He brushed a lock of damp hair off his forehead. “Did he tell you why he’s had this change of heart about our leaving?”
“I asked. He said he owed the Druid a favor for something that happened a long time ago. He wouldn’t say what. Actually, he changed the subject on me.” Quentin looked thoughtful. “But he didn’t seem disturbed about our going or about Walker’s appearance. He seemed more … oh, sort of determined, I guess. It was hard to read him, Bek. He was very serious about this matter—calm, but intense. He made sure I knew to take the sword.”
He looked down at the weapon in his hands. “I’ve been sitting here looking at it.” He smiled. “I keep thinking that if I look hard enough, I’ll discover something. Maybe the sword will speak to me, tell me the secret of its magic.”
“I think you have to do what Walker said. You have to wait until there’s a need for it before you learn how it works.” Bek sat down on the bed next to him. “Walker was right. The sword is perfect. Not a mark on it. Hundreds of years old and in mint condition. That’s not something that could happen if magic wasn’t warding it in some way.”
“I suppose not.” Quentin turned the blade over and back again, running his fingers along the smooth, flat surface. “I feel a little strange about this. If the blade is magic and I’m to wield it, will I know what to do when it’s time?”
Bek chuckled. “When did you ever not know what to do when it was time? You were born ready, Quentin.”
“And you were born twice as smart and a lot more intuitive than I was,” his cousin replied, and there was no joking or laughter in his response. His steady, open gaze settled on Bek. “I know my strengths and weaknesses. I can be honest about them. I know I rush into things, the way I did the chance to go on this expedition. Sometimes that’s okay, and sometimes it isn’t. I rely on you to keep me from wandering too far astray.”
Bek shrugged. “Always happy to bring you back into line.” He grinned.
“You remember that.” Quentin looked back down at the sword. “If I don’t see what needs doing, if I miss the right and wrong of things, I’m counting on you not to. This sword,” he said, hefting it gently, “maybe it is magic and can do wonderful things. Maybe it can save lives. But maybe it’s like all magic and can be harmful, as well. Isn’t that the nature of magic? That it can work both ways? I don’t want to cause harm with it, Bek. I don’t want to be too quick to use it.”
It was a profound observation for Quentin, and Bek thought his cousin did not give himself nearly enough credit. Nevertheless, he nodded in agreement. “Now go take a bath,” he ordered, standing up again and moving toward the door. “I can’t be expected to think straight when you smell like this!”
He returned to his room and began putting together clothes for their journey. They would leave early in the morning, getting a quick start on their travels. It would take them a week to track down Truls Rohk and then to reach Arborlon. How much longer would they be gone after that? What would it be like in the lands beyond their own, across the Blue Divide? Would the climate be hot or cold, wet or dry, bitter or mild? He looked around his room helplessly, made aware again of how little he knew about what he had let himself in for. But that kind of thinking wasn’t going to help, so he put it aside and went back to work.
He was almost finished when Coran Leah appeared in the doorway, grave and thoughtful. “I wonder if I might talk to you a minute, Bek?”
Without waiting for a response, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. For a moment he just stood there, as if undecided about what to do next. Then he walked over to the bench on which Bek was laying out clothing, made a place for himself, and sat down.
Bek stared, still holding a shirt he was folding up to put in his backpack. “What is it? What’s the matter?”
Coran Leah shook his gray head. He was still a handsome man, strong and fit at fifty, his blue eyes clear and his smile ready. He was well liked in Leah, well regarded by everyone. He was the kind of man who made it a point to do the small things others would overlook. If there were people in need, Coran Leah was always the first to try to find help for them or, failing that, to help them himself. He had raised his children with kind words and gentle urgings, and Bek didn’t think he had ever heard him shout. If he could have chosen a father for himself, Bek wouldn’t have looked farther than Coran.
“I have been thinking about this since Walker came to see me yesterday and told me what he wanted. There are some things you don’t know, Bek—things no one knows, not even Quentin, only Liria and I. I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you, and I guess maybe I’ve waited as long as I can.”
He straightened himself, placing his hands carefully on his knees. “It wasn’t your father who brought you here all those years ago. It was Walker. He told me your father had died in an accident, leaving you alone, and he asked me to take you in. The fact is, I wasn’t close to Holm Rowe. I hadn’t seen him in more than ten years before you came to live with us. I didn’t know he had children. I didn’t even know he had a wife. I thought it very strange that your father would choose to send you to me, to live with my family, but Walker insisted that this was what he wanted. He convinced me that it was the right thing to do.”
He shook his head anew. “He can be very persuasive when he chooses. I asked him how your father had come to know him well enough to put you in his care. He said it wasn’t a matter of choice, that he was there when no one else was, and your father had to trust him.”
Bek put down the shirt he was holding. “Well, I know how persuasive he can be. I’ve seen it for myself. How did he talk you into agreeing with him on this present business?”
Coran Leah smiled. “He told me the same thing I assume he told you—that he needed you both, that people’s lives depended on it, that the future of the Four Lands required it. He said you were old enough to make the decision for yourselves, but that I must give you the freedom to do so. I didn’t like hearing that, but I recognized the truth in what he was saying. You are old enough, almost grown. Quentin is grown. I’ve kept you with me as long as I can.” He shrugged. “Maybe he’s right. Maybe people’s lives do depend on it. I guess I owe it to you both to let you find out.”
Bek nodded. “We’ll be careful,” he reassured him. “We’ll look after each other.”
“I know you will. I feel better with both of you going rather than only one. Liria doesn’t think you should go at all, either of you, but that’s because she’s a mother, and that’s how mothers think.”
“Do you think Quentin’s sword really does have magic? Do you think it can do what Walker says?”
Coran sighed. “I don’t know. Our family history says so. Walker seems certain of it.”
Bek sat down across from him on the edge of his bed. “I’m not sure we’re doing the right thing by going, and I realize we don’t know everything yet, maybe not even enough to appreciate the risk we’re taking. But I promise we won’t do anything foolish.”