War of the Words/Chapter 35

"You look old," Jano said.

"And you look alive," Darin replied; it had become something of a running joke between them.

"You lied to me, Darin," Jano said accusingly. "You are a servant of the Water Lord!"

Darin was taken aback by this. "What? How do you conclude that?"

"It was not he that made the conclusion," Tralin said, entering from the hall. "It was I."

Darin turned to the Drakel. An uneasy truce had formed between them in the month Darin had been living in Draynor's castle. He was in theory free to leave, but he had no local currency, could not return home to Delkirk, and Neld was ravaged by the wandering undead. What would he do?

"What brought you to conclude that then, Drakel?" Darin asked.

"Delbek X'tchai," Tralin responded.

"What?" Darin asked, confused. "An old Drakel greeting? What has that to do with anything?"

"No," Tralin responded mildly. "To be sure the sentiment is shared in several Drakel greetings, but that particular phrasing is specific to the Water Casters. I ought to know..."

"So now what?" Darin asked sadly. "Am I imprisoned again?"

"To my knowledge, Vandarian, we have never imprisoned you. Why would we then imprison you for your religious faith? You are free to worship as you will in Deren."

"It doesn't matter," Darin said. "I was once among the chosen communicants, but I have fallen from the faith. I cannot return to Delkirk and my temple was destroyed."

"It was good then," Tralin added dryly, "that your machinations for Deren did not bear fruit. Otherwise, you might truly be homeless."

"After the machinations I devised, that would be..."

"Regrets, Vandarian?" Tralin asked accusingly.

"I still loathe you, Drakel," Darin added impishly.

"As well you should," Tralin said mildly.

"You are a pain in the neck, you know."

"The feeling is mutual, Darin," Tralin responded, and turned and left.

"I am sorry, Jano," Darin sighed. "I used you. I was set on destruction, still would be had..."

"Had the undead not destroyed our homes?" Jano offered.

"Yes."

"It's okay. I forgive you, OLD friend. I cannot remember most of it..."

A page entered. Darin recognized him as the vizier's nephew, Cerin; he had seen him in Sentar.

"You look none the worse for your battle scars," Darin said.

"I am surviving. The king wishes to see you. We need to discuss our next move."

"Very well, tell him I will be with him presently."

"That won't be necessary," Draynor said wryly from the doorway. "I have shown myself in."