"Come. Let us go sit somewhere comfortable, and I will tell you the story."
Baladan's brown eyes brightened. "About the person who gave you the necklace?"
Velkenar rested a hand on Baladan's head. "Yes, about that."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Part 16

Morning dawned cool and fresh, just the opposite of my pent-up and feverish thoughts. I lay in my cot a few moments after waking because I knew I wouldn’t be able to look Bart in the eye without it all coming out.

When I did get up, though, I found I had a respite. Bart and some of the others were making sweeps outside the camp, checking and setting a few traps to give us fresh meat supply.

Craigin was already up and Gern’s bedroll was rumpled and body-less.

The cathedral erupted in cheers and applause. I shouted and clapped along with everyone else, but my heart wasn’t in it.
“It had to be done, Conrad.”
My father had never looked so regal before, standing on the steps to the altar, the purple robe and heavy crown resting on his shoulders and head as if he’d been born to them. Smiling, he lifted one hand as if in benediction, and the cheering doubled in volume. It only began to die down when the trumpeters began to play a triumphant fanfare.