“But Ada”, Ardanion persisted. “It’s the restoration of a kingdom! It’s never been done before! And we can be a part of it!”
Cutch rode beside his son, who was enthused by the romantic notion of helping a king raise a kingdom. “Yes, I agree it is important. But I’m not sure binding ourselves to the Dunedain of the North is the best way to get involved.”
“We are already bound to them, Ada, by the blood of your grandfather, a House Chieftain. The king has readily acknowledged that. So WHAT if others choose to snivel about a crazy Elf? You took care of that, proving her insanity clung only to her till her death. When you were my age, you braved… the rest of the world on your own! You can do this.”
Cutch studied his son, seeing his own determination in the young man’s demeanor. At that age, Cutch was leaving the Ranger’s sphere of influence to find himself in ‘the rest of the world’. Ardanion now showed the same excited drive to return to the Dunedain. “And what of your mother’s House?”
Ardanion gave him a sidelong, knowing glance. “Naneth? She barely acknowledges us unless she has some far errantry for us or wishes you to fill her wine glass. And Bainiel is no different, always demanding gifts from everyone, or slighting me with her snide air and churlish comments. I find it hard to believe she is the eldest.”
“So, being the House Steward...?” Cutch began to ask.
“…is an outdated title, Ada, I am sorry to say. Her Ladyship has more than enough enthusiasm from her flock to tend to her… desires…”
Cutch stared at his son and was caught stunned between his anger at Ardanion’s disrespectful words and the sting from sensing a truth in them.
The boy blushed and glowered ahead as they rode on in silence. Cutch knew Ardanion’s remarks were impetuous and ill-conceived. They reminded him of a time in his own youth when he’d blurted out hurtfully. He decided to let the boy work out for himself when apologies were warranted, and trusted they would be forthcoming.
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Next-->The Truth and the Flame
