Dinner that night is a cheerful affair, with no arguments this time. Following Terwaen’s advice, Tric does not bring up that he was in a duel. When Bayar asks if he fell out of the loft, Tric simply answers, “This? No, this was settled.” His vague language conveys much to people in an honor-focused society. No more questions are asked about his activities.
In the morning, Mate returns with a piece of paper clutched in one claw. “I believe this probably belongs to you,” Tric tells Heppa, after trading a peanut for the scrap.
“Oh, thank you!” Heppa says with a wide smile. “You did it!” she cheers at the magpie. “Thank you, Mate.” Heppa unfurls the page and sees a message written shakily in all capitals. Looking forward to seeing you soon. Alric must have written this himself, she surmises. She wonders how he will keep the scribe business going after he finds out about how Damal cut him off from his parents. He will need much smaller and neater handwriting than this. It is heart-warming that he is learning to write, though.
Tric and Heppa spend an enjoyable day with Terwaen’s family, one free of diplomacy and drama. The next morning, they stop by Sir Anyc’s home one last time under the guise of making sure his injuries are fully recovered. The knight has a brighter disposition than the previous times they have interacted with him. And indeed, there is a sword on his hip when he greets them at the door. Tric takes exaggerated notice of it. “This is a new sword!”
“My liege gifted me one,” Anyc explains. “Thank you for providing me with an opportunity to do service to her.” Apparently he interpreted it as a reward for introducing the visiting emissaries to Dame Merriver.
“Yes, we had a productive diplomatic conversation,” Tric says. “She is a fierce fighter.”
“Indeed,” Sir Anyc agrees.
“But do not get on her bad side.”
“I strive not to.”
Tric debates saying anything further but decides that Sir Anyc is in too good a mood for him to risk spoiling it with news of the duel. He does not want to ruin the knight’s day. “Enjoy your sword. Maybe when you get the other one back after dueling that other fellow again, you can wield two swords!”
“One gets their sword back by ransoming it,” Anyc explains to the visitor who still seems to not understand horse clan ways.
“Oh,” Tric says, a little crestfallen. “I thought you could duel him again, like double or nothing… But maybe you don’t need that now.” Sir Anyc wishes them well on their travels, and they depart on good terms.
Back at Rugg’s homestead, the elves pack up for their trip to South Tower. Tric already has Terwaen’s letter to the captain of the guard there, but he asks her if she has any personal message she would like him to relay to Mhaev.
“Probably the same sort as you do, which is not many at all,” Terwaen replies. “Regina raised me from my late childhood on. She is more of a mother to me than Mhaev is.”
“Believe me, I know the feeling,” Tric says. “I’ll tell her you’re doing well, whether she asks or not.”
With Butterbell loaded, the elves bid farewell to Terwaen until after the thaw, for she has agreed to visit Tric in Estbryn Forest at the start of spring. As they leave Dolydd behind and begin the trek to South Tower, Heppa turns to her cousin and comments, “Honestly, I’m surprised we got out of there with just one duel.”
Fin