Talla

Stormhaven was an odd city. Talla had never had a reason to visit it and it ventured too far west from the roads for it to matter. The last bastion of Stormener culture before leaving humanity behind and entering wolven territory, it was close enough to the border to have traces of both. Much of Stormhelm’s grey stone buildings spread across the city as well, but so were the Waterfall’s traditional tall stone pillars that brought water from the aqueducts into city centers. It was almost too bizarre a combination, and watching a number of human children play with wolven ones was most unsettling.

Once, the land had belonged to the wolves, a fortified defense against invaders from the Stormlands, and shelter from the harshest of storms. Northhaven, it used to be called, and it held for hundreds of years against the Icefolk, but only a few decades against humans. Reven the Stormbringer rode south with a fierce storm behind his back to seize the city while Levante the Slow was stranded in King’s Heart in official business. It wasn’t unusual for castles and lands to be stolen in this manner.

The madness was that the eccentric Stormener had neither executed nor banished the wolves from his lands. Fearing the fields to need more knowledge of the land than he could muster, Reven the Stormbringer offered citizenship in his lands to any wolf that bent the knee to him and the Storm Gods. Animosity was lower than usual, the capture of the city relatively bloodless due to the treachery of the matter, and though some departed south many pledged themselves to Reven, and it was the Prince of Storms they bent the knee to, not the Prince of Waterfalls. Even now, the city still had a nearly even population of wolves and humans.

Madness, Talla thought. Her elven sensibilities could not understand how a city could coexist with two separate races such as this. Utter, beautiful madness. Even matters of the soul had mingled. This was a land where Stormener humans sometimes believed in the Chain and the Fire, and wolves sometimes believed in the Storm Gods. There were even whispers of a mixed belief, a sort of twisted worship of both heavenly notions that formed something else anew. Madness.

Yet it was Lord Largo of the noble House of Presaprata, the Lord of Rainfort, that surprised her the most. He was the Lord of the City of Stormhaven, and as such did not bend his knee to Lobo of the wolves, but to Stormkeep and Vance of the humans—to Von. And yet, he was a wolf! Talla could hardly believe it, yet his eyes were as golden as Lobo’s and his ears were sharp.

“Your surviving men will heal fine, my lord,” Largo said respectfully. They had arrived scarcely a few hours later, with no warning, yet the wolf had ensured their best healers were set on the living, and their most sacred priests in charge of the dead. “I take it the ones who aren’t here…”

Von shook his head. “Buried in the storm. I do not meaninglessly bring corpses into your city. Those I could not save, I buried. The ones who came here died on the way—we could not wait long. None would have wanted their burial to doom the injured to be buried alongside them.” The human appeared annoyed at it all, displeased, then a touch of fury showed on his face, if only for a moment. “Romulo was always infuriating, but he overstepped for the last time. Send a raven to Lobo of the Noble Companions, tell him to come execute his man. I will gladly rip out the man’s heart myself if the Prince asks it of me, but I know the man better than that.”

“It has been done, my lord,” Largo replied, lowering his head for a moment in a polite bow. He was a much taller man than his lord, yet he slumped his shoulders in respect. “The raven will reach Moonvalley by morning.”

“Good.” Von looked at the door and narrowed his eyes. He placed both hands on the chair’s armrests, rested his weight on them and started, “My men need a burial—”

Largo laid a loyal hand on his lord’s arm to gesture him back to his seat. “My lord, please. It will not do if you get sick from the Storm. You have already been exposed to the elements once tonight.”

Von did not sit back down. “It will do less if my men are not dignified with a burial.” Von’s intensity was different from before. Acting like a lord always gave him a measure of authority, yet here it felt more imposing. Talla considered that she felt more scared of this Von. “They died defending me—they deserve an honorable burial.”

His wolf did not disagree but neither did he divert his gaze. “And I will bury them myself,” he promised him. “So please, my lord, rest your aching muscles—and bring us the glory of victory in Dragon Tower.”

The bitter emotion on Von’s face was plain, and Largo seemed surprised. Talla had briefly informed Von—who asked how much time he had before Blade Valley—that the tournament had already occurred, as well as that he had been defeated by Gilver of Bluegrave, of the demons. This did not please him, and the usual Stormener brooding had been replaced by a sort of silent, angry frown until their arrival in Stormhaven. “As you say,” Von acknowledged, sitting down, “my job is to drizzle the people of the Storm in the glory of victory.”

A sudden thought came to Talla. Is this why he refers to his people as the ‘people of the storm’ rather than humans? Because of the wolves of Stormhaven? She had to wonder if this was similar in the Ironlands—the humans there appeared more proud of their humanity.

Largo of Presaprata bowed respectfully and left them alone in that comfortable meeting room in the Castle of Rainfort. It was a firelit room, warm and bright, spacious and well-tended; they would not go hungry there. Only the three of them remained—Von, Talla, and Alayne. The elf opened her mouth, but Von raised four fingers to stop her, his thumb still pressed against the underside of the armrest. His other hand held his chin, and he stayed in that thoughtful pose for a long minute.

It was most arrogant of him to demand silence from the women while he was lost in thought, yet the action came so naturally from him Talla found herself not knowing when to object.

“Elf, demon—how long has it been?”

Alayne spoke first. “My lord, what has happened to you?” the demon asked, in a theatrically fragile voice. You are not scared. Stop playing it up, demon. “You behave so differently now.”

“If I do, that is cause for concern.” Von did not look either of them in the eye, his gaze turned to the fireplace. “As I understand it from the words we exchanged during the trip—Romulo’s Royal Heartbeat can cut through time?” Their talks had been limited, as taking care of the wounded soldiers and moving their surviving horses had been most trying. This Von had not hesitated in putting Talla to work herself, and she dreaded the fact the demon had time alone with him. “I cannot believe that filthy mongrel placed higher than me in Blade Valley,” Von muttered, in a disgusted tone. “Anyhow, that cursed Heartbeat is the likely cause for my behavior, I’d wager.”

The demon made a sound as if meaning to speak again, but Talla did not let her. “How much of your memory is missing?”

“Last I recall, I was preparing for Blade Valley.” Von paused thoughtfully. “Considering today’s date—388 days of different.” The human muttered a number of words, so low that Talla could hardly make them out. Calculations, from the sound of things. “If it’s a Royal Heartbeat, that would have added up to twenty-four hits. Meaning the length would be around nineteen hits…this state should remain for around three days. Less, now that we have taken a quarter of one to come here.”

Only three days? Good. Talla did not let this opportunity slip. “Von—my lord, could you explain however you mean? Royal Heartbeats, the length of their effect—”

Von looked positively annoyed at her, and his look of disgust was enough to shut her silent. “Exponential growth per hit, starts at a minimum of two seconds. The duration of the effect usually equals the exponential amount, until a hard limit is reached—and evidently this is far past the hard limit,” he said, gesturing at himself. “Now, let us not waste time—explain it all to me. Who are you two? What has changed since last time?”

Talla told him everything in as few breaths as she could. At times, Alayne meant to interfere, but she did not allow the demon the chance. There was still a chance she had been trying at manipulating Von, and the elf had no intention of making it easier. Throughout it all, Von listened without changing his expression, raising his eyebrow once at the start, and showing no more emotion than that. Some details were not said—there was hardly a way to recount the incident with Alayne without breaking decorum.

“Most troubling,” Von muttered. “That I lost all my skill—well, it makes sense that he would do that.”

“Gilver?” Talla ventured.

“Who else?” Von said, bitterly and dismissively. Then, as though a wonderful realization set in at once, his face lit up as he looked at her. “Has my new self not told you about Gilver?”

Talla appeared not to sound too eager. “No, my lord.” She wanted to know more about what had caused Von of Redgrave to lose that duel and all his memories. It was too unnatural an event to be justified by a single injury. “I do not believe you know it yourself.”

“Amusing.” Von of Redgrave laughed quietly and placed one foot on the circular wooden table between them. “Bastard can take my memories, and yet my steel still stirs within. Treacherous monster.” Despite his tone, a smile formed slowly across his face. “To think that even without memories, I would still be guided toward Blade Valley, by the woman of the elf I destroyed….life is full of ironies.”

Much bothered about his phrasing, but she knew better than to bring up his duel against Kai. “I am not his woman,” Talla said, in an even voice.

“Truly?” Von eyed her from head to toe and smiled shamelessly. “That is wonderful news.”

This unnerved her greatly. She would not have minded, if she was being true, Von looking at her with those curious eyes. A part of her might even have found it flattering, and in all likelihood returned the favor. The Mother of the Forests knew she had allowed her eyes to wander before. But this was different. It felt like a stranger. “And it was a close duel,” she added, firmly. “Kai nearly won.” It was stubborn of her to even mention it, but the way he looked at her invoked a bitter feeling from within.

“Did he now? I rather doubt it. Do not recall the duel, I do not, but were it so—would you really have come to me for help, elf?”

Talla remembered now, her hesitation upon being sent to Stormhelm. Her concerns that the cruel man who defeated Kai so callously would laugh at her concerns. Those worries felt so distant for so long, after getting to know Von. Enough that she wondered at times if she would have, given the option, forsaken the kind, if unskilled lord for his more brilliantly ruthless counterpart. Now, she was sure she would not. Even with the fate of her people at hand.

“It—it was a close match,” Talla insisted stubbornly.

Von sank into his chair and laughed. “Ah, there is the venom. Good. I do not wish for you to hold back. Say what you wish, I will not remember it in a few days. Why not take advantage of it? You may insult the human who bested your champion without fearing reprisal.” He shook his head. “Forgive me. I know from your words—as well as the recovering Captain Diego’s—that we share a close friendship. Yet, my lady, you seem a stranger to me. Some poison feels fitting, and I imagine there must certainly be things you have wished to be able to say to me before and were prevented due to rank, eh? Well, consider this a gift.”

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Alayne shot her a concerned look, and Talla wanted to spit on it. True, there was a passing fancy of hers she would have liked to engage in with the real Von, but not this man. Just a few days. “There is nothing, my lord.”

“Oh, please my lady!” Von encouraged her. “There must be something.”

“There is not.”

“Be honest!” Von insisted.

Impatiently, she searched for something else she could say. “I would not tell this to the Von I am friends with,” Talla said slowly, “but I resent you for defeating Kai. What happened to him afterward…I blame you as much as I blame myself.”

“It was not Lord Redgrave’s fault!” Alayne protested. “It was merely a tournament! He fought with honor, and won with honor!”

“I do not blame the Von we know for it. But this man in front of us?” Talla said, more frost in her tone than she intended. “Significant blame lies at his feet for what happened to my friend, Kai of Bosque.”

Rather than offended, Von appeared positively thrilled by this development. He sat up, a smile on his face. “Ah, my lady…you blame me for your friend’s state? Truly?”

“That is ridiculous!” Alayne raised her voice, and the incredulity in her tone did not appear to be an act. “Lord Redgrave won fairly, you cannot blame him for how his opponent reacted!”

Talla drew a deep breath. “I can,” she said softly, “because Von of Redgrave is right. It was not a close match.” She turned her gaze to the lord, then diverted it to the fire—it felt wrong to see Von’s face uttering the words the man did. “Von of Redgrave did not merely beat Kai. He humiliated him. It appeared as though it would be a close contest for a while, but his style allowed for a brutal defeat in the second half. He boasted, he laughed, he mocked—he wounded Kai’s pride and made him feel as though only glory could repair it. Kai challenged Vandyr and—”

“Ah, fuck off,” Von said dismissively. It shocked her and Alayne both to see the man being so callous. Talla had expected a denial, perhaps, but the sheer uncaring nature of his act came as a complete surprise. “I wounded his pride, so I am to blame for how he nearly killed himself trying to repair it?” If the Lord of Redgrave meant to hide his perceived slight, he showed no indication of it. “The demon speaks truly. We fought a fair duel, and if my words wounded him, he was welcome to demand satisfaction from me.”

Talla shifted in her seat, anxious to reply. “That—”

“I was not done.” Von raised his commanding voice. “Our blazing hearts clashed when our steel did. Ah, yes, heated words were uttered then—what of it? Do you mean to accuse those who taunt in a fight of lacking in honor?” He stared the elf in the eye. “Recall, if you will, my fighting style. Does it not occur to you that taunts would work well with it?”

It made sense. Talla had not seen the Lord of Stormkeep use taunting to bleed his opponents, but it would work well. First he takes your legs, then he takes your soul. His slow, methodical draining of his adversary’s skill and desire to fight would pair up well with instigating careless attacks. “Whatever your reasons, a man must claim responsibility for his actions. Your mockery led Kai to—”

“Responsibility!” He laughed. “What of the elf himself? Does he claim any? Or does he blame me? Mayhap his Elders? Or does he lay the blame at the feet of the beautiful elven lady before my eyes?”

Talla could not respond to that. Kai blamed himself, yes, but he blamed most others for it.

“I feel sorry for what he became, but I claim no responsibility over it. We fought, he lost. How he took that loss or what came of it is of no concern. To expect a swordsman to consider their adversary’s feelings before besting him is ludicrous.”

She bit her lip. It was true, and also why she hadn’t meant to say it—but the man had goaded her into saying something. “Such callousness towards life,” Talla said coldly. “When I first became acquainted with my lord in Stormhelm, it occurred to me that mayhap it had been unfair of me to blame you such. Yet…seems as though I was correct. The ‘Von of the Past’ truly is an awful human being. The ‘Von of Now’ is no stranger to sympathy.”

“Even now, I am far from a stranger, my lady, yet I cannot deny my distance. One feels more kinship with men of their hometown five years from their last parting than he does five years later. As for the ‘Von of the Past’ you speak of…” The Lord of Stormkeep raised an eyebrow. “Is this how you rationalize your hatred with your affection, elf? Do you think the person you have befriended and the one who stands before you are two separate people?”

“It seems to me that most would come to that conclusion.”

Von laughed, but never took his eyes off the elf as he did so. It was unnerving. “I am the same person,” he told her firmly. “Merely five years of experience later.”

“You are a despicable person,” Talla snapped back, “the Lord of Stormkeep I know is noble, kind ruler—”

“I will not have you question my nobility, elf. Bark about my manners if you will, and I will concede the point. Yet you must be mad to stand here as my guest and accuse me of lacking lordly manners. My lord father misliked my lazy self, and he would have misliked my current self, yes. But he would not disapprove of how I act as lord. Certain lessons, even I learned.” He leaned forward. “My patience has been tested. Insult my character if you would like, but question my lordliness once more and you will find yourself deprived of guestright.”

Threatening words did not affect her as they should have. Instead, against her expectations, she found herself smiling. “You once cut off the finger of a man accused of theft,” Talla told him. “It did not please you. You stood proudly, nobly, and did not hesitate. Von of Redgrave performed his duty admirably. I would not question this. It is the only thing about you that has not changed.” She studied Von’s features for a moment. It was like watching the same blade wielded by different swordsmen. “Back then, you came back to the carriage, shaken and haunted by what you had done. I ask you this, my lord, would your fists still shake?”

Von had a sad smile on his lips, almost identical to the ever-present Stormener frown she often saw on him. “My lady, they would not. A lord is hardened as his steel falters from use. Yet this does not mean those moments do not weigh heavily on me.”

A lord is hardened, Talla thought. It explained much. But not enough. “What happened over those five years,” she began, quietly, “to harden you such?”

“Your fault, my lady, is assuming that a single experience changes a man. Tell me, do you remember what you broke your fast with this morning?”

She did not. “I don’t see how that—”

“Are you the same person you were this morning?” Von asked sharply. “How many mornings must fade into your unconscious before you consider them a separate individual altogether?” He shook his head. “A weak, cowardly lord ventured out into the world. He picked up much about the sword, met many people, and learned much about what he wanted. At some point, the shyness disappeared. People clamored for his skills. He found the adoration his pride needed so much. There is no single, magical event that changed me, my lady. Von of Redgrave grew up. It happens.” His sad, kind smile stabbed the realization at her. He is the same person. “I ask not that you grow used to this, for it is temporary. But I ask you to remember that Von of Redgrave is more than the man you befriended.”

“I confess myself at a loss,” Talla said without hostility. “You ask me to consider who Von of Redgrave truly is, but that is a most difficult question. Your memories changed your being, yet the Von I know is neither the one that stands before me, nor the one who hid in his tower as a boy. What am I to make of that?”

“Questions such as these are for the Greytower,” Von muttered. “What is a person? A collection of memories? The summary of their experiences? Mayhap, my claim is as wrong as it is loud. Mayhap I am a different person from the man you know. Mayhap my ‘self’ will die when my three days run out and the Von you know returns. Yet, our memory fades with every dream. Do we die a little every night?” He shook his head. “Questions for the Greytower. For Mestre Valo. I am a mere swordsman and lord, my lady.”

Von did not wait for Talla’s answer, and it was just as well. She did not know what to say. He turned to Alayne and said, “Noble lady, I understand your situation, as well as my current hesitation. I must say, a marriage alliance would be quite a good idea.”

“My lord?” Alayne could not keep the surprise she was spoken to at all out of her voice. She had until now been nearly a silent observer. “Do you mean it? If only there was a way to ensure it—”

“You mislike men,” Von said calmly, “but elves dislike meat, yet the elves of Museu eat it now that they must. Would you join them in their sin or starve as the elves of Marina did?”

Alayne paused for a moment, her face reflective. “If necessary, I would eat it.”

“Good.” Von nodded. “Head to my chambers then, and await me. Tell the guards you have my permission. If I am guilty of dishonoring you, even my naive self would not walk back on a marriage alliance.”

The demon appeared at once ready to celebrate and burst into tears. Yet, she stood up all the same, a noble smile on her face, Stormener wool wrapped around her shoulders, and bowed respectfully to Von and Talla both before leaving through the door. The Lord of Redgrave watched the door for nearly a minute after she left before speaking again. “You think me cruel?”

“I think you a liar,” Talla said frankly. She had heard much about Von of Redgrave’s cruel ways, but swordswomen had never accused him of lacking kindness in that department. “You do not intend on bedding her.”

“I do not,” Von admitted. “But this way she will remain in my chambers, and the guards will know her whereabouts. This way, we do not have to worry about her paying a visit to the dungeons.”

“The dungeons?” Talla questioned. “Why would she—”

“Romulo is kept there.” At her inquiring glance, he shrugged. “I merely do not think the mad dog had measure of our travel plans by happenstance.”

Talla could not believe it. “You—you are of the opinion she betrayed you, my lord?”

Von did not appear particularly interested. “Mayhap she did. It would make a certain amount of sense, no? She is being forced into a marriage to someone of the male persuasion, who had a reputation for finding women as beautiful and plentiful as sunsets. Why, would it be strange that if she were contacted by someone seeking information on Von of Redgrave she would consider giving out information on him? It would give her family some coin, especially considering Romulo’s reckless spending habits. My brother would have probably done something similar, were he not banished first. I would do much the same in that situation myself.”

“But Alayne and you came to an agreement!” Talla protested. “She appeared quite satisfied with it, my lord. Why would she risk it all for such a reckless scheme?”

“Her agreement may have come after she had already set the plan in motion. It would not be possible for her to change course at that point.” Von shrugged. “It would not surprise me, that being the case, that the demon would go along with the marriage from now on—after silencing the wolf.”

A shiver went down Talla’s spine. “If that is the case,” she muttered, “then Alayne is at fault for the deaths of your men.”

“Aye,” Von said quietly, “she is. If it is true—which we do not know for sure.”

“If it is true,” Talla repeated, “what would you do then?”

He was silent for a long time, gazing into the fire. Even as the burning wood in the fireplace threw out sparks near his face, it could not shake off the feeling of winter his eyes brought. His hand fell to his sword. “I would pass down judgment,” he muttered, “as it is my duty.”

What would the Von I know do? Talla thought. But she had a feeling he would do much the same, even if it haunted him a lot more. Despite her concerns about the demon’s motives, she could not bring herself to hate the woman. Alone in a strange land, used as a bargaining chip by her family...even if her decisions were rash, they were understandable. But it was not my men that died, and I am not the Lady of Stormekeep. And she thanked the Mother of the Forest for it.

If Alayne had done it…maybe it would be for the best if Von never found out. “My lord.” Talla’s tone announced a sudden change of topics. “May I inquire about your past? About the matters that Von of Redgrave does not remember? I will tell him myself, I swear it.”

He shook his head. “No.” It was a lazy, yet firm answer, and a moment later he rose from his chair. “I will write myself a letter later on. With all due respect, my lady, I do not doubt our friendship, but to me you are but a stranger, albeit a beautiful one.” Again, he looked at her, his gaze starting at her feet and slowly shifting all the way to her eyes, with a few meaningful pauses. “It would be uncomfortable to discuss this with you.”

It was fairer than most of what the man had said so far, yet she could not stand by it. There was much she wanted to know. His connection to Gilver, for one, and much of his odd past. What had caused him to be so isolated from the world to begin with? “Please, my lord,” Talla insisted. “It would—it would be very important for me.”

“Why not ask me once I return to being the man you know?” Von noticed her hesitation and smiled. “Ah, you fear the shy swordsman to be too reticent, so you aim to loosen the lips you know to not rest still. Fascinating.”

“My lord,” she began, uneasily, “that is—that is not—”

Von gave a mighty shrug. “I judge you not, elf. Talla?” he asked, and smiled once more when she nodded. “Yet I maintain my position.” He stretched his arms above his head. “I must retire for the evening, I am afraid. If you still insist on badgering me with questions, join me in my bath. I admit to never having seen a naked elf before.”

So sudden was the invitation that it took Talla a moment before she could have the decency to blush at the question. “I could never—Von of Redgrave! You would try to blackmail a woman out of her clothes?”

“Blackmail? Hardly. My lady, accuse me of much, yet not of that. I would never make the insinuation were this information you sorely needed. By the Storm Gods, were that the case, I swear I would sit down and tell it to you regardless of how I felt. Yet, this is unnecessary. It will not help you save your people, nor can you claim any sort of selfless reason for wanting to know more about my deeply personal past. It is merely your blatant curiosity.” His smile was mischievous, confident, and she wished it went away. “There is no need for you to know any of it, and I frankly do not wish to talk about it. If you mean to insist, do so while we relax in warm water.” He paused, then added, “If I read your eyes correctly, that would not be wholly dissatisfactory to you. If I misread, then please, feel free to ignore my proposal and continue your line of questioning tomorrow.”

“That—that is not—”

Von of Redgrave laughed and made his way to the door, leaving a flushed Talla behind, unsure what to do.

End of Chapter 25,

'What is a Person?'