Free Redemption Of The Sacred Land (Book 3) by Mark Tyson Page B

what contribution I can make.” He headed for the barrel. “May I?” he asked Rennon. Rennon nodded.
    “Gondrial! I thought you were nursing a hangover,” Shey said.
    “Hmm.” He absently scratched his ear. “It’s mostly gone.”
    “Mostly? What does that mean?” she inquired.
    “It means that more ale will cure it anyway and mind your story to the lads.”
    She shook her head. “One day, too much ale is going to be his undoing.” She turned her attention to Dorenn. “I honestly can’t think of what to say to you.”
    “How about you start at the beginning with the highlord and the Sacred Land. You need to tell us no matter the emotional pain!” Dorenn said. “Who did you marry? What exactly happened at the War of the Oracle?”
    Gondrial spit out his ale, and they all turned to look at him. “Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting you to ask those questions.”
    “You are asking very difficult questions for me to answer. I don’t talk about my marriage or the war with anyone. I will tell you what I am willing to tell you, and the rest is for me to keep to myself. I don’t see any reason why I should have to divulge all of my private life to anyone. It’s private!”
    “It’s only private if it doesn’t concern me, my lady, or my friends,” Dorenn said. “The time of shadows and secrets are at an end.”
    Lady Shey appeared visibly angry but had the grace and poise not to express it. She took a seat in the closest wooden chair and cleared her throat. “First off, the highlord Rastafin Stowe was a terrible man.” She looked Dorenn in the eye. “I thought the Silver Drake made a terrible mistake choosing him. She claims he was the best at the time. It must have been poor times indeed. The nobleman I married was a good man who got caught up in his work and his lands. He neglected me for power and promotion. It all worked out for the better that we split up.”
    “You are still married, though, right?” Rennon asked.
    “Aye, being of noble birth, we are to remain married by the traditions of our homeland. Only death will part us.”
    “And they both have the capacity to live for an incredibly long time,” Gondrial said before taking another swig of ale.
    “Do you ever get to see him?” Rennon asked.
    “I don’t ever want to see him again. Now let’s change the subject.” She wiggled in her chair to make herself more comfortable. “What happened at the War of the Oracle is in the history scrolls at the archives in Brookhaven. I know because I put them there with the hope that you would study them one day. If you want to know what happened, read them. Or if you cannot wait, I will tell you what I told my father. Ask Theosus Fiderea. He was there, too.” She got up and exited the tent.
    “I was there,” Gondrial said. “Again, what she doesn’t want to talk about is losing her best friend at the end of the war. She never did get over it.”
    “Come on, Gondrial,” Dorenn began, “who was he? Who was Lady Shey married to?”
    Gondrial took another swig of ale. “I’m not nearly drunk enough to be that stupid yet. Lady Shey would have me skinned.”
    “Yet!” Rennon said. “More ale!”
    “The fact is I will never tell you before Shey is ready to tell you herself. There is a good reason for her to keep him a secret for now. Let’s just say you know him, and to know more does endanger our cause.”
    Dorenn looked to Rennon. “Satisfied?”
    “No, not at all. I can’t think of a single reason to keep him a secret, but we needn’t keep badgering her to delve into the past for our sakes. It’s time to look to our task to preserve the future,” Rennon said. “It’s time to ensure our part of the story, not drag up hers.”
    “You are both becoming wise beyond your seasons,” Gondrial said. “Now have a drink, and we will talk of more pleasant times!”

    With the illusion in place, Veric equipped all the gear he needed to travel. Morgoran’s suggestion of going through