13
The next day, we got ready to sail. While Amlach organized the food supplies and the wooden pitchers he’d made for water, I checked one last time that the raft was secure.
When we were ready, we pushed it into the sea. We climbed aboard and propped our oars against the seabed to stay in shallow water, watching how the beams and lianas reacted when they were soaked.
“It’ll keep us afloat, Elf. Don’t worry.” Amlach grinned. “We built it well.”
I met his knowing gaze with mine. “Let’s go home, then.”
We sat at the ends of the raft and started to row out of the lagoon.
Once in the open sea, we had to fight a sudden current that threatened to push us back toward the island’s rocks.
After we managed to get past the current, we paused and pulled up the oars to rest for a moment.
I took this chance to study the sun’s position and figure out which direction to head.
In the evening, after dinner, Amlach lay down to sleep for a few hours to regain his strength for tomorrow’s rowing.
The sky became so dark that it looked black, far from the nearly full moon. Continuing to row, I looked at the myriads of stars that watched us, as I had always done on the nights spent on the trunk and later on the beach when Amlach was deeply asleep.
Suddenly, sadness enveloped me like a cloak, tightening around my heart. With watery eyes, I began to sing the elven dirge dedicated to my grandmother and her sacrifice.
“Ah,” Amlach exclaimed with a sigh, a mix of fascination and mockery, as I paused briefly between verses. “She can even sing.”
I glanced at him over my shoulder with a slightly smug face.
He lay on his back, knee bent, fingers entwined behind his head, eyes closed. “What is it about?”
Sadness returned, and I looked up at the stars, stopping my rowing. “It’s about the poor Lady Calien, whose soul cannot shine up there, with her loved ones.”
That’s what happened to elves when we realized that the time of our Rest had arrived. Surrounded by our family’s affection, we welcomed the Spirits within us. They gently guided our souls in the night sky, granting us an eternity of splendor and peace to watch over our loved ones still alive.
But my grandmother couldn’t protect us from above.
“I didn’t know her soul was trapped in the Crystal,” Amlach remarked, and even though he spoke casually, I could sense a tension in his voice. “When I was a boy in school, they taught us that there was only her power.”
A tear rolled from the outer corner of my eye. “Your teachers’ knowledge is incorrect, unfortunately.”
“Anyway,” he said cheerfully to lighten the gloomy atmosphere. “I would love to sing something for you, as I know how much you like the sound of my voice . . .”
“I think you like it better,” I grumbled.
“. . . but the songs sung in the taverns we soldiers visit are not appropriate for your innocent ears,” he finished with a grin.
I cut him a nasty look that made him chuckle. I watched his chest rise and fall regularly when something came to mind.
“Your armor was different from that of other soldiers, including the general who stepped forward. It was more elaborate.” I observed his expressionless face, then declared, “You are the commander of the army of men.”
Amlach slowly breathed out and opened his eyes, gazing at the sky. “Just a title like many.”
“Why did you stay in the back with your king and send a general to talk to us?”
Now that I knew Amlach, I was certain the battle could have been avoided if we had negotiated with him. As a result, both armies could have withdrawn before the Lake Caran dam collapsed. No human would have died.
And the two of us wouldn’t have been stranded in the Thalion Sea.
“First, our king was not with us that day,” Amlach revealed.
“He knew your father would not deign to take the field to fight us back and would send his children in his stead, so he stayed in his palace at Leukós. And second . . .” His mocking eyes shifted my way. “I don’t like to chat with the enemy.”
Indeed. Once we’d set foot in the Lands of the East, our alliance would cease, and we would become enemies once again. And I was sure it would not be long before we were face-to-face again on the battlefield.
What would I do if it happened?
And he? Would he confront me?
I didn’t want to think about it.
“What will you do when you get back to your home?” I asked.
His king would likely host a grand banquet to celebrate his commander’s safe return. I could already picture Amlach entertaining the guests with our story, showing off all his charm and certainly tweaking some parts to look like a hero in their eyes.
Who knows what he would say about me to his comrades when he got back to the barracks? I was pretty sure he would make up that he saved me.
“Hmm . . .” Amlach had a brooding expression on his face. “I very much think I’ll just get drunk until I collapse in my bed, from which I won’t get up for at least two weeks.”
Oh, I felt him. When I returned to Aegel’s Palace, I would first soak in a warm bath. After that, I would lie in my large bed and finally get a good sleep, free from the buzzing of mosquitoes, the sound of waves, and the bird calls.
And free from the need to suppress the constant urge to go lie down next to Amlach.
He poked my leg with his foot. “Do you elves get drunk?” he taunted me with a smirk.
I hit his thigh with the end of the oar to put him in his place. “Sleep,” I ordered with a ghost of a smile.
His low, sensual chuckle was like a balm that eased my sadness. I started rowing again, knowing this would be one of the last times I would hear it.