Trail Of The Torean (Book 2) by Ron Collins Page B

not.”
    “Garrick, the problem with people like you is that you’re so certain you understand everything that you miss the whole picture. You take two or three pieces of information, ignore everything else, and then you knit those pieces into a story you think is the truth but is really just your opinion cloaked in a few slanted events. And, in this case, you’re so wrong that I would find it humorous if it weren’t for the fact that we are talking about my brother.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Lord Ellesadil made the final decision for that war, certainly. But my father had Ellesadil’s ear, and my brother had my father’s ear.”
    “And that’s important because?”
    Darien wiped his brow and stared into the fire, obviously collecting his emotions.
    “I was just a boy then,” he said, his voice distant. “But I remember them fighting. I had never seen my father’s position questioned before, and I had never seen Thale so passionate. He believed with all his heart that Dorfort was at risk as long as Aarot-Meexor lived. But my father is a cautious man, and he was missing information. He wanted to wait until he had all the facts, and he wouldn’t budge until he understood the issue. Ellesadil trusted my father’s opinion.”
    “I don’t understand,” Garrick said. “The order came to fight, right? The war happened.”
    “Of course it did. It happened because Thale argued his convictions. He made his opinion heard. In the end, my father gave in and Thale won the day.”
    The fire crackled. The silence felt heavy.
    “So, you argue Thale signed his own death warrant?”
    Darien nodded, checking the rabbit and wiping his fingers on his pants. “Yes, Garrick, my brother did sign his own death warrant. And he was probably right to do so, too. Thale delivered the killing blow to Aarot-Meexor himself—and at the same time was killed by one of the king’s minions. He stopped a scourge that was surely coming.”
    “I see.” Garrick nodded to himself. “But what does that have to do with you? Why are you here?” He stopped, and stared at Darien. “You’re running, aren’t you? Your father wants you in his guard, and you’re out here to find yourself, instead.”
    Darien gave a caustic laugh.
    “The day we learned of my brother’s death, my father withdrew to his chamber for a very long time, and when he returned he was changed.”
    “He blames himself,” Garrick said.
    “How would I know? He’s never spoken to me about it.”
    “I’m sorry.”
    Garrick saw Darien’s dilemma. It was obvious his friend loved his father.
    “So, you think I should align with the Freeborn, yet you ran from your father’s military because you wouldn’t follow in your brother’s footsteps?”
    “You really must stop jumping to conclusions, Garrick. I didn’t run from the military. I tried to join the guard, but my father blocked me. He said I should keep my apprenticeship in the university.”
    “I see,” Garrick said. “Your father was afraid to lose a second son.”
    Darien nodded. “I left the university the night before I was to certify.”
    Garrick shook his head.
    “At the end, it’s all still the same. Those with power eventually lose themselves in it. Your father is no different.”
    “Are you daft, Garrick?”
    “Don’t you see it? Your brother is dead because Ellesadil sent him to war, and you are here because your father wouldn’t leave you to live life as you wanted.”
    “My brother fought for his beliefs,” Darien said with a tone as strong as granite. “He commanded men, and those men loved him. He died doing what he thought was right, and he won. He saved lives. I will not accept that a man with power cannot change things for the better.”
    “Yes, but Thale is still dead.”
    Darien sat back, remaining still, appearing almost as if he was in a trance before speaking.
    “I don’t pretend to understand this whole god-touched thing, Garrick,” he said. “And I have no idea if you