Light Of Loreandril (41 page)

“It’s good to see you all too, my little spronglings!” he choked, tears welling up as he looked down at the two children hanging like limpets from him. He had only been gone for a few months but it had seemed an eternity. He noticed his son’s steely look but he would tackle that later. Drombil had never approved of his decision to accept the King’s request.

“You’ve been gone far too long, Ompi!” Gambil said, his voice muffled as he buried his head into the fat stomach.

“Well I’m back now!”

“For how long?” Drombil queried with a definite hint of disapproval in his voice. Gomel still did not react, he knew his son would come round eventually.

“Before we start talking about those things, perhaps you will let me through the door first……my legs are tired from riding……and what of my dear wife and granddaughter?”

Clumsily, limping lopsidedly with the excess weight of his grandchildren, he took several steps into the warmth of his home, allowing the door to close behind him.

The front room was filled with the welcoming smell of fresh baking, spices and the musty odour of burning wood. His wife, Glona, was sat in her favourite rocking chair, positioned by the crackling fire. She motioned for him to be quiet, her eyes twinkling in the semi-darkness of the room, her pretty round face framed by the warm glow of the firelight. Gomel instantly saw the reason why his wife had not greeted him. Nestled snugly in her arms lay their young granddaughter, sucking her thumb.

Managing to prise his grandson off, he bent down on one knee, kissing his wife, and caressing her soft, grey hair, which was swept back into a loose bun. Smiling, he stroked Yolina on the cheek, gently waking her. She opened her eyes sleepily at first, but then squealed with delight as she recognised her grandfather’s cheery face. Gomel braced himself as she launched at him in hysterics. Gambil and Thombil quickly joined Yolina.

“Now, now children, I am sure your Ompi is exhausted!” smiled Glona, gently rocking her chair back and forward.

“Come, children! Off with you!” Drombil helped lift the three laughing grandchildren off the helpless Gomel.

Glona was relieved to finally have her husband home. The news of his return had spread quickly and soon her house had been full of the normal busybodies and gossips. Eventually, once it became clear Gomel was not coming straight home, the crowds dissipated and her house emptied. Glona knew her husband would come home as he soon as could, yet she could not help worrying about his sudden return and his strange travelling companion.

To take her mind off the endless questions in her head she set about cooking and cleaning frantically, quickly joined by her son, and his young, plump wife, Bella. Glona had even coerced the grandchildren into helping in an attempt to quench their excitement. It had not worked and it proved to be a battle just to get them washed and dressed in their best clothes. But now he was here. Gomel had finally returned to his family
, but for how long?
 

The commotion subsided and Gomel dragged himself up allowing the children to lead him into the warm kitchen. Bella, his daughter-in-law, was dutifully washing up dishes and pans. She stopped, blushing shyly, as she wiped her soapy hands on her floury apron. Picking Yolina up in one arm he hugged Bella and gave her a bristly kiss on the cheek.

There was a freshly baked pumpkin pie next to a short-crust meat pie on the long, wooden kitchen table. Two baskets also sat on the side by the kitchen hearth, one filled with soft, white bread rolls, sprinkled with pumpkin seeds, and the other filled with a mixture of fruit cakes and sweet biscuits.

“You’ve been busy!” he glanced at his wife, a large broad smile on his face.

 “Well, I knew you would be hungry when you got home!” Glona had already laid seven places at the table and without being asked the three children sat down on their bench as the parents sat down opposite them. Gomel and Glona sat at either end of the table in their high-backed, wooden chairs.

Gomel sighed, feeling the tension drain from his body, as he relaxed back into his chair. Glona cut a slice of warm meat pie and slid it onto his plate. Without thinking, he tucked in immediately, the mouth-watering smell of the gravy and meat to hard to resist. He was famished and quickly cleaned his plate, only to receive another slice. After his second plateful, accompanied by several mounds of freshly steamed root vegetables, he sat back patting his stomach and looked upon his family.

“Tell us where you’ve been, Ompi!” piped up the little voice of Yolina.

“Did you have to fight bad clansmen and beasts?” an excited Gambil asked, spraying his mouthful of food across the table. Bella rapped her son’s hand, motioning him to close his mouth while eating. The boy quickly swallowed his mouthful, his cheeks turning scarlet.

“I’m sure your grandfather does not want to talk about such things,” replied Drombil, as he mashed up the food on his plate, moving it around with his fork.

“You must be very tired after all that travelling, and in such weather…….it’s common knowledge that heavy snow is already falling on the mountains.” Bella, sat on the bench next to Gomel, patted his hand, smiling sweetly at him.

“Omph!” he laughed. “I am never too tired to share stories with my family!” He leaned back, pushing the chair onto its back two legs, still rubbing his satisfied stomach. It was an irresistible invitation for the youngest grandchildren to jump onto his lap.

“So tell us……who did you fight……did you kill people?”

Gomel laughed, rubbing Gambil’s head affectionately. “It’s nice to see you haven’t changed …..still as blood-thirsty as ever!”

Yolina scrunched up her button nose with distaste at her brother who promptly stuck out his tongue, only to have his mother cover his mouth, tutting her disapproval.

The narrative continued long after dinner and soon the children were fast asleep on Gomel’s lap, their minds lost in a swirl of images of the outside world. Gomel had told them as much as he thought necessary, skipping over certain aspects of his harrowing adventure in case of nightmares. Even the adults listened with bated breath, on the edge of their seats, except Drombil who retired to the other room, not wanting to give his father satisfaction.

Finally, Bella and Glona lifted the heavy bodies of the two sleeping children off his lap and carried them into the bedroom. Thombil followed, dragging his sleepy feet behind him.

As was traditional, all generations of a family lived together, and for some families that could mean up to five generations residing under one roof. Gomel’s family was quite small, as many relatives had been killed in the last Great War, including Gomel’s two brothers, three nephews and his oldest son, who had barely been out of his tweens.

Gomel heaved himself out of his chair and taking a deep breath he decided to finally confront his son. He found Drombil standing in front of the roaring fire in the front room, his back turned to the rest of the room.

Gomel broke the silence. “I always thought you were a fan of my stories!”

“When they were stories.” Drombil still did not turn but continued staring into the firelight. Although grateful Gomel had returned safely, he was deeply angry and disappointed in his father, and word had already reached him that it was probably not yet over.

“I would have at least thought you’d have stayed and listened, just because you were pleased I am back!” Gomel took several steps closer. He watched as Drombil’s silhouetted shoulders shrug in response. Gomel sighed, his frustration starting to fuel his temper. “Drombil, you must at least be relieved I am back?”

There was silence for a few moments, the tension growing with every second.

“Well?”

“Of course I’m pleased,” snapped his son, a hand resting on the fireplace, as he hung his head, and shut his eyes. “But you know I didn’t want you to go in the first place! You left me the responsibility of looking after the family. And you did so without discussing it first.”

Gomel breathed in deeply, raising his eyes to the ceiling. The tension had been brewing since he first came home and made the announcement to his family. His son had promptly sent his wife and children into the back rooms, while he tried to convince his father how bad a decision it was. Glona had tried to maintain the peace, but the voices of father and son grew steadily louder and louder, until she too retreated out of the danger zone.

“Son, I know how you feel. But what’s done is done.”

“That’s just it……….” Drombil spun round to look at his father. “I know it’s not! You forget I have friends in the courts of the King. There is already talk of what you brought back with you, not just the boy, but the Elvish thing.” He took a step towards his father. “Even I know it’s not over.”

“I understand your fears, son. But I promise you, it’s over for me. Even I have to admit, I felt myself dwindling on this mission. I will not leave my family again.” Gomel reached out a hand to reassure his son.

“I don’t think I believe you. I know the strong allegiance you have to the King. If he asked you, you would go again. You would leave us and all this behind just to do your duty!” Drombil’s voice was raised. “You are not the one who had to deal with the tears and fears of this family. You have no idea the upset created in the wake of you leaving.”

“I am fully aware how hard it was for my family. It was hard for me too, but I do not deserve to be judged so harshly. Perhaps if you understood more about duty to the King, you would understand me more.”

“Not this again! Father……..”

Gomel raised his hand, requesting silence. “You forget, I remember the dark times, when we had no option but to defend this kingdom. You have been lucky. Do you think I enjoy leaving my wife and my children? It’s a necessary evil. I would rather leave and take the fight to the enemy outside these walls, than have it come to meet my family!”

Father and son looked at each other, studying the intent in the other’s face through gritted teeth and with clenched fists.

“Father, I have watched you leave one too many times. Maybe next time you should let me go instead.”

Gomel was taken aback. He had not expected such brave words from the son who had never seen battle, but he knew they were genuine. He clasped his son’s arm. “Let us hope there is not a next time….for both our sakes!”

Their silent moment of peace and understanding was broken by the sound of swishing footsteps entering the room.

“You two need to lower your voices! You will only wake the children!” Glona stood in the doorway, hands on hips. “Now, I am pleased to see you have finally made peace, but perhaps I could have some time alone with my husband.” She looked at her son.

Father and son smiled, fighting back the desire to laugh at Glona, treating them like spronglings. Drombil patted his Father awkwardly on the back. “I’m pleased you came home to us, father.” He then left his parents alone.

The old couple walked to the kitchen arm in arm and Gomel took his seat at the head of the table as his wife began pottering around clearing away the remains of dinner.

“You look tired.” She came over to stroke his bald head and then ran her fingers down his cauliflower ears.

His eyes closed for a second, enjoying his wife’s warm, gentle touch. “I’m not too tired for pumpkin pie!” Gomel opened one eye and peeked at his wife.

“You and your stomach!” she laughed, picking up his napkin and slapping it playfully on his head.

Glona cut him a generous slice of pie, sliding it onto a small earthenware plate. After drizzling fresh, buttery cream onto it, she placed it in front of her husband, but found that he had already fallen asleep. The sound of snoring began to grow, as his breathing grew deeper and slower, his bristly beard rustling with each rise and fall of his chest. He looked so peaceful she could not bear to wake him. Glona smiled lovingly at her slumbering husband and after draping a soft, woollen blanket over his knees, she left him to sleep where he was.

The light hurt his eyes as he slowly opened them, his eyelashes encrusted together. There were strange sounds, voices and smells around him that he did not recognise. Cradon blinked, opening his eyes wider, and groped into the blurry haze before him.

He suddenly felt the warm touch of someone and he could hear a faint, soothing voice speaking to him. The haze began to clear and slowly Cradon surfaced, finding he was lying on his stomach. His mouth was dry and his tongue tasted stale. Thankfully there was fresh glass of water beside his bed on a small wooden table. Feebly, he reached his hand over and tried to pick up the glass, but found he did not have the strength.

“Gently. You’ve had a tough few days.” The voice still sounded distant, but he could now tell it was female. “Here, let me help you.”

Cradon was helped to turn over and his shoulders propped up by soft, plump cushions. The kind voice now came into view. To his surprise it was a young, slightly dumpy, short gnome. Despite her physique, she had a pretty round face, with sparkling green eyes and strawberry blonde hair swept back into a bun, topped with a white, cotton cap.

“There we are, much better,” she smiled at him, as she handed him the glass of water he so desperately needed. The nurse helped support the glass as Cradon took a sip. Cradon closed his eyes and smacked his lips, feeling the refreshing coolness wash down his throat. He took another long gulp, only to have the nurse pull it back. “I know you are thirsty, but you don’t want to make yourself sick.”

The gnome placed the half-empty glass onto the bedside table. Cradon looked at it longingly, still feeling parched.

 “Only take
small
sips.”

“Where am I?” Cradon asked, his mind still fuzzy from exhaustion.

“You don’t remember?”

“No.”

The nurse began tucking in the blanket tightly around his legs, making him almost uncomfortably restrained. “Your friend brought you here two days ago. You were in quite a state……..”

Cradon interrupted, “My friend……Gomel……where is he?”

She ignored him, and continued explaining. “You were unconscious, running a very high fever. Once we had cleaned and dressed your wound, we sent him on his way. He needed rest himself.”