Sandon led Tarlain past the few bodies and fallen Kallathik that remained scattered across the Ka Vail grounds. He had known where to look. He'd found the boy -- no, young man -- in the very place he himself had been held, what seemed so many months ago. It was not that long, but it seemed it. It seemed somewhere way in the distant past. As they entered the house, Sandon watched him. Tarlain's grim expression grew even grimmer.
"So much waste," he said, shaking his head as they stepped inside. He took in Yosset Clier hunched in one corner, Jarid Ka Vail's body on the floor, and Markis, sitting staring blankly into space.
Sandon held back, allowing him the room. He could see echoes of his father's more thoughtful moments in the young man's expression.
Finally Tarlain turned. "So tell me, Sandon. Tell me how all this happened."
With those words, the other two looked up, waiting to hear what he was about to say. Sandon paused, considering, taking in the scene one more time, trying to judge exactly what had happened here.
"The Guilds didn't expect a night attack at all. They forgot, or simply didn't understand the capabilities of the Kallathik night vision. In the end, it was short work. There weren't too many casualties. We can thank the Prophet that it was mercifully quick."
"Good," said Tarlain with a heavy sigh. "We can be grateful for that much. There have been enough losses. Now, we have to work out how we are going to try and rebuild."
He looked around the room, looking as if he was trying to decide. Finally, he crossed to a chair, and sat heavily.
"There is more news, I fear," said Sandon, remaining where he was. "Your sister."
Tarlain looked up and simply nodded.
"She was caught by the first wave of Kallathik. Ky Menin was with her," Sandon continued. "They must have tried to fight."
There was a gasp from Clier and he buried his face in his hands.
"I'm sorry, Yosset. I understand your loss, but we have all lost in this terrible tragedy," said Tarlain. Sandon listened to the boy's words, his tone; there was a maturity there that he barely expected.
The Guildmaster made no response. He sat where he was, silent shudders running through his shoulders as he kept his face hidden in his hands.
Tarlain looked thoughtful. "Has there been any news of Din Baltir?" He said.
"No," said Sandon. "Nor I fear of your father. There's been no word of the Principal at all."
Tarlain looked down. "We lost him in that first battle. I saw it happen. It was quick. At least he is finally at peace now."
Sandon frowned and tilted his head, barely comprehending what Tarlain had just said. Men Darnak gone? No. It couldn't be true. There was a deep hollow opening up inside him. "Y-you're sure?" he said.
"Of course I'm sure, Yl Aris. I saw it. I saw it with my own eyes. Kovaar too. He was one of the first."
"Kovaar! May he rot," said Sandon, his teeth tightly closed.
"What?" said Tarlain, looking up. "What are you saying, Yl Aris?"
Sandon took a deep breath. "Alise told me. Kovaar had been trading with the Atavists for certain herbs, dealing mainly with her husband, Lothan. When I first described his condition to her, she knew of something similar, but had nothing to connect it. After our discussion, she took the trouble to discuss it with her husband, who is also a healer. Of course, we have no proof of it now, but I believe that cursed priest may have been responsible for the Principal's deterioration. He was the only one with the opportunity, the reason, and he had the means."
Tarlain sat up straighter. "Why would he do that, Yl Aris?"
"You must realize that there were elements of the Church of the Prophet aligned with the Atavists. I witnessed one such meeting while I was traveling with them. Whatever they were doing, whatever the ultimate purpose, they were attempting to undermine the stability of the Guilds. What better way to achieve that than by targeting the Principal himself?"
Tarlain shook his head, rose and started pacing. "No, I find that hard to believe."
