SIX
A Sort of Homecoming
It was twilight as the tired envoy made its way back to Mardenholde keep. It had begun to rain during
the afternoon, and the weary horses trudged their way down the muddy road. Arden, leading the somber
column of knights and footmen, looked back at Tirion worriedly. Tirion was slumped over in his saddle,
heedless of what transpired around him. His broad shoulders drooped weakly and his head was bowed
in grief. The ceaseless rain ran in rivulets down his haggard face. Arden’s heart broke, seeing his former
lord and master in such a state. He was forced to look away. Looking toward the keep, the captain saw
that Tirion’s advisors had gathered at the main gate to greet their returning lord.
Tirion’s stomach was tied in knots. He was blocked from the Light. In the thirty years that he had served
as a Paladin, he never dreamed that the blessed power would be stripped from him. He felt absolutely
hollow inside. Wallowing in despair and misery, he was unable to even lift his eyes toward the sight of his
former home.
Arden rode slowly up to the gate and dismounted. The advisors, at seeing Tirion’s near-comatose state,
asked the captain what was wrong.
Arden grimaced. “There have been some changes,” he said to them curtly. The advisors looked at each
other in confusion.
“What do you mean, Captain? Where have you both been these past few days? What is wrong with our
lord?” one of them asked heatedly.
Arden bowed his head in shame and sorrow. “Our lord Tirion has been found guilty of treason against
the Alliance,” he said with a heavy heart. “The High Court has ordered that he be exiled from our lands.”
The advisors gasped in shock.
“Surely you must be mistaken. That’s impossible!” one of the advisors said shakily. He looked into
Arden’s eyes and saw that it clearly was not.
“It can’t be,” the advisor said blankly. Arden nodded grimly and helped Tirion dismount from his horse.
“Well, who is our lord now, Arden? Who will rule over Hearthglen?” another advisor asked. Arden
shook his head and scoffed as he answered, “Barthilas will be your new lord, for the time being.”It did
sound like a bad joke, he thought to himself. He put his arm around Tirion and started to lead him
inside. “I want the guards to stay alert tonight. Tirion is to remain here under house arrest. At first light, I
will take a party of footmen and escort him to the border. Until then, neither of us is to be disturbed. Is
that clear?” the captain asked in a gravelly voice.
The shocked advisors merely nodded their assent. Arden dragged Tirion in out of the rain and ushered
him toward his private chambers, hoping that he wouldn’t have to face Karandra before morning. Not for
the first time, he wondered if there was anything that he could have done to prevent this all from
happening.
* * *
Arden leaned Tirion the against wall outside his private chambers and opened the door.
“Thanks for your help, Arden. This has been. . . very difficult. I just wanted you to know that you’ve
been a good friend to me. I’m sorry all this has happened,” the former Paladin said.
Arden nodded and turned away slowly. “If there’s anything you need, let me know,” the captain said as
he left.
Tirion watched him leave and found just enough strength to close the door behind him and collapse in a
chair. Overcome with emotion, he buried his face in his hands. His limbs would not stop shaking, and the
gnawing emptiness in his gut threatened to devour what was left of his soul. He couldn’t face his wife and
tell her what he’d done. Ironically, after all the years he’d refused to lie to her, he found now that he
couldn’t bear to tell her the truth.
The adjoining door to Taelan’s room opened and Karandra stepped out quietly, shutting it behind her.
She looked surprised to see Tirion sitting there in the dark.
“Tirion, what has happened?” she asked urgently. She lit a decorative lantern, and its soft light bathed
the room. Shadows danced across the walls as she knelt down beside her husband.
“Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.”
“I accompanied Lord Dathrohan back to Stratholme,” he muttered, his head still bowed.
“You know, Tirion, you’ve been sneaking off quite a bit lately. If I didn’t know you any better, I’d
assume that you were seeking comfort from another woman,” she said teasingly. Tirion raised his head
and looked at her. Seeing the deadened look in his eyes, she knew that he was not amused in the least.
“Tirion, darling, what’s wrong? Has something happened to you?” she asked worriedly. He looked over
toward Taelan’s room.
“Is the boy asleep?” he asked quietly. Karandra frowned and answered that he was.
“I don’t quite know how to tell you this, my love,” he began somberly, “but I have been branded a
traitor and stripped of my titles.”
Her eyes widened in shock. He wasn’t joking, she realized. In fact, as she looked at him more closely,
she marveled at how defeated and deflated he seemed. In all the years she had known him, he had never
looked this way. It frightened her immensely. She shook her head, unable to grasp the enormity of the
situation.
“How could this happen, Tirion? What have you done?” she asked in a strangled voice.
He closed his eyes and held his breath for a moment, attempting to calm the furious pounding of his
heart. ‘Do you remember the secret that I kept from you?” he asked. She nodded as her brow creased
in anxiety. “The orc I fought with saved my life, Karandra. If not for him, I would have been crushed
under a collapsing tower. To repay him for saving me, I vowed, on my honor, to keep his existence
secret.”
Karandra covered her face. She shook her head as if she didn’t want to hear any more, but Tirion
continued anyway.
“I was forced to hunt the orc down under direct orders. But when it came time to capture him, my
conscience overtook me. To uphold my honor, I fought to free it. I was arrested on the spot and taken to
Stratholme for trial,” he finished.
They sat there in silence for many long moments. Karandra sniffed and wiped tears from her eyes. “I
can’t even begin to imagine what you were thinking,” she said breathlessly. “The orc is a beast, Tirion! It
has no concept of honor! You gambled all our lives on a stupid, silly whim!” she spat, careful to keep her
voice down. She didn’t want to wake Taelan and let him see his father in such a state. Tirion simply sat
with his head bowed. For some strange reason, seeing him in such a weakened state only made her more
anxious.
“So what happens to us now, Tirion? Did you even consider that while you were playing the martyr?”
she said softly, disappointment rampant in her voice.
He stood up and walked over to the window. Night had settled heavily over the fields beyond the keep.
The rain continued to pour, as if nature was attempting to rid itself of some foulness in the world.
“I have been exiled, Karandra. I am to be escorted to the border at first light,” he said gravely. She
blinked in shock.
“Exiled?” she whispered. “Light-damn you, Tirion! I told you your precious honor would be the end of
us!”
He turned to face her. “Without honor, woman, everything we have is meaningless!” he said, motioning
around at their lavish surroundings.
She waved her arm dismissively.
“Will your honor keep us fed and keep our son decently clothed? How can you maintain this senseless
obsession in the face of what’s happened? What happened to the responsible man I married?” she
asked.
He gritted his teeth and turned to face her. “I have always been this way, Karandra! Don’t talk to me as
if it’s any surprise! You knew that marrying a Paladin would demand certain sacrifices.”
“And I’ve made plenty of them. Willingly! I held my tongue every time you rode off to battle. I sat here,
alone, for countless hours—waiting to hear if you were alive or dead. Do you have any idea of what that
was like for me? I never complained once all those times that you left us for your bureaucratic duties. I
knew you had a job to do. I knew people counted on you. But I counted on you, too, damn it! I kept it
all inside so that you could ‘do your duty’ with honor. I know all about sacrifices, Tirion. But this time the
price is too high.”
“What do you mean by that?” he asked, although he already knew the answer. She held him in her fiery
stare.
“I love you, Tirion. Please believe that. But I won’t be coming with you . . . and neither will Taelan,” she
said softly. Karandra turned away, unable to look him in the eye. “I will not have our son grow up as an
outcast or be the subject of ridicule for the rest of his life. He doesn’t deserve that, Tirion, and neither do
I,” she said.
Tirion felt as if his life no longer had any meaning. Losing the Light was devastating enough; he didn’t
know if he could bear losing her too. His head spun.
“I understand how you must feel, Karandra. Believe me, I do,” he barely managed to say. “Are you
certain this is what you want?”
“You’ve ruined your life. I will not simply hold on while you plummet to the bottom and ruin ours as
well!” she said, almost frantically. She hugged herself, trying to calm her raw nerves. “I hope your
precious honor keeps you warm at night,” she said.
“Karandra, wait,” Tirion said as she left. She walked swiftly toward her room and slammed the door
shut behind her. Tirion heard the bolt lock, and the faint sounds of her sobbing.
Unable to comfort her, Tirion leaned his head against the window’s cool pane of glass. Absently, he
watched as the raindrops splattered against the pane. He knew her well enough to know that she would
not change her mind. He had lost nearly everything he had ever cared for. The only thing he had left in the
world was his honor. He wasn’t even sure of that anymore.
As if in a daze, Tirion walked into his reading room and sat down at his large, polished oak desk. He lit
a few candles and gathered up a piece of parchment, ink and a new quill. Without really knowing exactly
what he wanted to say, he started scribbling down his thoughts on the parchment. His hand shook as he
wrote, smearing the ink in spots. He emptied his heart out onto the parchment, expressing everything he
felt, explaining everything he had done. He sat at the desk and wrote late into the night.
* * *
Morning was only an hour off when Tirion entered Taelan’s darkened room. Karandra had cried herself
to sleep hours before, so Tirion knew he would be undisturbed. He walked over to where his son lay
sleeping peacefully. Snuggled in his blankets, the boy breathed steadily. Tirion watched him sleep for a
while, awed by the child’s innocence and purity. He knew his son deserved better than a life of forced
exile. He deserved all of the good things life had to offer.
With a shaky hand, Tirion reached into his coat pocket and retrieved the rolled parchment he had
written. Tears filled his eyes as he carefully placed the note under his son’s pillow.Perhaps someday the
boy might understand what I’ve done, he hoped.Perhaps somehow he’ll look back on me and be
proud. Tirion patted the boy’s head and kissed him on the cheek.
“Good-bye, my son,” he said, fighting back his tears. “Be good.”
With that, he quietly left and closed the door behind him.
* * *
Dawn had broken over the tranquil fields of Hearthglen. The oppressive storm clouds had blown away
and the sky was bright and crystal clear. In a few hours, the old orc Eitrigg would be hanged in
Stratholme. Tirion had decided that he would not let that happen. Whatever else transpired, Eitrigg would
not die. He had little trouble bypassing the keep’s lax guardsmen and reaching the stables. As quietly as
he could, he saddled Mirador and prepared his meager supplies for the journey to Stratholme.
He placed his foot in the stirrup and hauled himself up onto his horse.
“This is the second time I’ve caught you trying to sneak off, Tirion,” Arden said, standing in the
entranceway. Tirion’s heart froze. He looked around and saw that there were no guards with the captain.
In fact, there was no escort party to be seen anywhere.
“I figured you’d try something like this,” the captain said.
Tirion gripped his reins tightly and cleared his throat. “Are you here to stop me, Arden?” he asked
tightly.
The captain walked over and tightened the straps of Mirador’s saddlebags. “Even if I had a mind to, I
doubt that I could,” Arden replied honestly. “I sat up all night thinking about what you said at the trial. I
think perhaps I understand how you felt. You were only doing what you thought was right. You always
have. For that, I cannot condemn you.”
Tirion nodded and leaned down. He placed his hand on Arden’s shoulder.
“I need to ask you a favor, old friend. It is the most important thing I’ve ever asked of you,” he said
breathlessly.
Arden looked up at him gravely. “Whatever is in my power to do, I will do,” the captain said.
“Watch over them for me, Arden. Keep my boy safe,” Tirion said.
Arden reached up and took hold of his friend’s hand. “I will,” was all he could say.
Satisfied, Tirion nodded to Arden and looked out toward the distant tree line. He dug his spurs into
Mirador’s sides and thundered out of the stables. Stratholme was only a few hours away. If he rode like
the wind, he would make it in time to stop the hanging. He charged down the path at breakneck speed,
pushing the faithful Mirador faster and harder than he ever had before.
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