Silver May Tarnish Read Online Free Page B

he went first there to hear of how I did. Near three years after we had ridden to Paltendale, Berond sought me out, meeting me in private in my room with a small leather bag, which he handed me as soon as he had barred the door.
    â€œBerond, it’s good to see you. Where have you been this time and what’s this?” As I spoke I was opening the bag. I upended it upon my bedding and a small trickle of wealth showered down. I gaped at the small gold disks and the sprinkling of uncut gems. “Berond? Have you taken up gambling or have you been robbing the invaders?”
    He smiled. “Neither, lad. Keep it hid and tell none what
you have.” He gathered the contents up again in one large hand, pouring them back into the bag and handing that to me. “Keep it safe. Time enough for spending. When that time comes you’ll know it.”
    â€œBut Berond, where did this wealth come from?”
    â€œErondale.” The word struck me like a blow so that I could only sit and gape at him. He nodded. “Listen, lad. I had business for Lord Hogar over by the ruins of Rishdale. I had time owing to me and he granted me leave thinking only that I wished to look again upon what had once been my home. Therefore I rode there alone. Erondale fell, yes. But it had secrets the invaders never found. The land is ruined. They came with fire and destroyed it, all the village, the lower pastures. I think it will be many years before that land will bloom again. Maybe generations to come, for the land is poisoned.” He saw me wince.
    â€œAye. Erondale is gone. But once this war is done many dales will lie dead. In some it will be the land which is ruined, in others the people who are gone or dead. And thus may things match. No war lasts forever. In time to come it will end and you, if you live, will be keep lord without keep or dale. It is then that you must seek out another place. You do not wish to live here on Lord Hogar’s kincharity forever?”
    I shook my head violently. I’d had too long of kin-charity, and while I repaid to some extent, it was a sickness in my heart knowing how it was begrudged me, by Hogeth at least.
    â€œGood lad. Well, this is earnest that you still have some inheritance. Your father trusted me. We were boys together and I knew all the secrets of his keep. This is one. I would keep secret the others longer but,” he sighed, “the invaders press us hard. We are falling back slowly towards Paltendale and I fear. Twice have I taken minor wounds. The next may be lethal and if I die without sharing my knowledge you lose what I know.”
    I was not surprised that my father had trusted Berond.
They’d fought together as warriors when my grandfather Joran held the keep as lord. I’d heard my father say once that he owed his life to Berond, since a skirmish with bandits when they were both lads. If anyone knew the secrets of Erondale it would be Berond. He was glancing at the door.
    â€œWe have been here together behind a barred door long enough. There are those who will wonder why if we remain so longer. Let us ride out hunting and camp the night. There I will tell you the rest of what I know.”
    I agreed with that. In my time at Paltendale I had learned to keep my business to myself. We rode far out and hunted well. With saddle-bags bulging we made camp at dusk. Over food and drink Berond began.
    â€œWhat do you know of the beginning of Erondale?”
    I shrugged. It was a common tale, a younger son with a wish to hold his own land. Paril of Paltendale, who had wiped out a large group of bandits and found their hoard, used that to seek out a suitable dale and settle there. Once settled he had wed the daughter of a wealthy ship-owner of the Sulcar. With her dowry he had cleared the land—extending, too, the keep—which in turn made Erondale a more desirable place with which to wed daughters. I said much of this but quickly.
    â€œThe dales were