Bab 7: Chapter 7: Unlikely Friendship
Rowan waited as patiently as she could for the next three days. She kept her eye-rolling to a minimum during the captain’s lessons and dutifully began to sit with her uncle when he held court. Rowan was still learning, however, to hold her tongue.
On the evening of the third day, she went to her uncle’s chambers and knocked politely on the door. To Rowan’s surprise, it was General Tarik who opened the door and ushered her inside. King Gregan stood leaning on both arms over a table full of maps and letters. Taking one look at her uncle’s face gave Rowan the sense to wait quietly until General Tarik quietly whispered about her presence. Gregan looked up.
“What is it, Rowan?”
She curtseyed, “It’s been three days, and I was wondering if we could go get the arrows tomorrow?”
The King waved an impatient hand over the papers in front of him.
“I have important matters to deal with. The arrows can wait.”
Rowan offered helpfully, “I can go get them myself, uncle if you are too busy.”
A sound resembling a growl came from her uncle, “No, a lady doesn’t travel alone. You can wait.”
The lady gave an offended sniff, “I’m a good rider, I can go.”
Gregan’s head snapped up from the papers, “No, Rowan!”
She inhaled.
The King pointed, “Out!”
General Tarik graciously held the door open for Rowan as she exited the room. She watched the door shut behind her before walking carefully to her own chambers. Lea stood up as Rowan entered and asked if Rowan wanted a cup of tea.
“Yes, I’ll have one, thank you,” Rowan said distractedly.
She told her handmaiden of her uncle’s reaction to her question. Lea sighed.
“You were brought up with a different way of seeing things,” she told Rowan. “Your uncle has many different responsibilities.”
“He’s so stubborn,” Rowan mumbled.
Lea raised her eyebrows, “It runs in the family.”
Rowan huffed playfully at Lea, “Make my tea.”
Lea’s words hung heavy in Rowan’s mind as she sipped the tea.
In the morning, Lady and servant were walking down to the main hall to attend court. As Rowan went to enter, a guard held up his hand.
“Not today, my lady,” he said.
Rowan pushed his hand out of the way, “Do you know who I am? I’m supposed to be in there.”
“Not today, my lady,” the guard patiently repeated. “Your uncle is dealing with...a sensitive issue. He said you do not have to attend today.”
“Well, fine then,” Rowan said to Lea. “I can keep myself busy.”
In that instant, an idea formed in her mind. She smiled and motioned to her handmaiden to come with her, walking briskly down the corridor.
“I’m going out for a ride,” Rowan announced.
The midday sun found Rowan and Dunvelli arriving at Elduine’s forge. As she dismounted and struggled to shut the gate behind her, a voice called out.
“Leave it,” Elduine stood in the doorway of the cottage. “It can be difficult to close.”
“Oh,” Rowan fiddled with the latch one last time. “Where can I put my horse?”
Silently, the blacksmith pointed to a hitching ring by the forge door.
“Thank you,” Rowan blushed and tied Dunvelli quickly.
“How may I help you?” the blacksmith asked. Recognition flickered in his eyes, “Oh, the arrows.”
Rowan grimaced slightly as she followed him into the forge. Taking a long, narrow, shallow box from the shelf, the Elf opened it and held it out for her to view.
The arrows were exquisite. The feathers were a caramel brown, and the slender, graceful shafts matched the honey-colour of the Elven blacksmith’s hair. Once more, Rowan admired the silver tips and thanked the Elf.
“These arrows are beautiful, thank you,” she untied a pouch from her belt. “I have payment.”
“What? No insults? No haggling price?”
Rowan began to laugh, then she realized the blacksmith was serious. Her smile disappeared.
“No, I feel it’s a fair price.”
The Elf eyed her suspiciously.
“I’m not my uncle,” Rowan finally admitted, blush burning her cheeks. “I don’t know why he talked to you like that.”
The blacksmith blinked, “I’m an Elf. That’s all humans need to know.”
Rowan took her eyes from the arrows and fixed them on the Elf, “What do you mean by that?”
Elduine shrugged, “It’s a fact. Ever since the Golden Alliance ended, Humans and Elves have disliked and distrusted each other.”
"So you're deciding two races will hate each other forever because of something that happened decades ago?"
"Lady Rowan, that's just how it is with both races," the blacksmith sighed, frustration building.
"That, my blacksmith, doesn't make sense," Rowan shook her head. "If you dwell on the past, you just keep making the same mistakes. Someone needs to make the decision to start anew and begin to build a new relationship between Elves and Men...and half-elves."
Elduine went still, "Who told you that?"
The lady blinked, "My father..."
The blacksmith stared.
Placing her hands on her hips, Rowan asked, “Is this how you do business?”
Raising his eyebrows, the Elf took a bow from the shelf and strung it.
“I assume you will want to try them out?”
Rowan could barely contain her excitement, “Oh, can I?”
“It’s how I do business,” Elduine answered sarcastically.
Standing in the yard, Rowan knocked her first arrow and waited for Elduine to place the target. She noted the increase in the wind so she could adjust her aim.
Standing back, the Elf nodded for her to proceed.
Three arrows found their mark, even with the increasing wind. She saw the blacksmith glance at the sky.
“Last one,” she said. When the arrow hit the target, Thunder cracked through the sky. Elduine pulled her arrows from the target and handed them to her.
“You better go, you may ride ahead of the storm.”
A large raindrop splashed on his hand, then another and another. In seconds rain was pounding down on the two figures in the yard. A loud series of snorts came from the unhappy horse by the forge. Both Rowan and Elduine ran.
Elduine grabbed Dunvelli’s reins and waved Rowan away, “No, no! Go to the cottage, I’ll tend to him.”
Usually, she would insist on tending to her own horse, but Elduine already had the horse untied and trotting to the barn. Dashing through the arched doorway, Rowan found herself in a comfortable room, dimly lit, a few comfortable-looking chairs, and a dark stone fireplace. On her left was an intricately carved staircase, on her right, a kitchen with storage room.
“It is comfortable enough,” the blacksmith’s voice noted behind her. “Tea?”
For the next few hours, Rowan and Elduine sat beside the warming fire and talked. The conversation flowed as easily as the tea. Rowan found herself laughing for the first time in many weeks.
“Can you explain something to me?” She asked the Elf.
“I can try,” he poured more tea.
“Why do Elves and Humans not get along?”
Elduine looked surprised, “The collapse of the Golden Alliance.”
Rowan leaned forward, “What about it.”
Elduine sighed and sat up.
“Mostly politics and religion,” he shrugged. “Elves have been here since the beginning of time, sharing the forests, fishing in the rivers. They helped humans from being a fledgling race to the powerful nation they are now. Sadly so powerful, they are a nuisance to the elves.”
Rowan sat straight at the slight insult, “A nuisance?”
Elduine looked seriously into Rowan’s eyes, “Not to all Elves.”
The room was quiet, and Rowan suddenly realized the rain had stopped.
“Oh, I better head back!”
Elduine agreed and carried her new arrows to the stable. Once mounted, she turned back to the blacksmith.
“Thank you, blacksmith,” she smiled. “Perhaps we can visit again.”
“It would be a pleasure,” Elduine bowed his head, hand on his heart.
Then Rowan left the blacksmith and disappeared down the road.
That very evening, sitting in front of her own fireplace with Lea, the ladies looked at the arrows in the narrow box. Lea noticed Rowan was smiling as she was recounting the adventure of the day. Rowan had just described the ride home when there was a knock at her door.
“Where were you at the evening meal?” King Gregan asked.
“Oh,” Rowan shrugged. “I wasn’t hungry?”
The King frowned, “You still should have been there. Are you well?”
He suddenly reached forward and felt Rowan’s head. She was surprised to see relief in his eyes when there was no heat. She also noticed his eyes flicker to the small box that lay open in front of the fire.
“What are those?” the King asked coldly.
Hadiah
-- Hadiah diterima Status Power Mingguan
-- Peringkat
Power 
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