Footsteps

Footsteps
by Silrana

Anomen entered his home in Athkatla, tired after a long day at the temple. It was good to be home. He entered the study, where he found Silrana with their youngest child. She looked up at him with a smile that did not completely reach her eyes.

“Good evening, love. How was your day?”

“The same as it has been every day since we returned to the city,” she said dryly.

Anomen groaned inside. Poor Silrana had been dealing with their three eldest children’s complaints ever since they had returned from the cabin in the Umar Hills three weeks ago.

“So our children have been their usual ill-tempered selves today?” he sighed.

He felt a tug at his cloak and looked down. Little Imorina was beaming at him and squealing, “Not me, Daddy, not me!”

He picked up his littlest daughter and brushed his beard across her face, and she giggled at the tickling. His fourth child was, as usual, a mass of laughter and curls. “No, dearling, you are never ill-tempered. I do not believe you know how to frown. Now go play with your toys while I speak to your mother.” He put her down and she ran from the room whooping and laughing.

He turned back to Silrana and said in a more serious tone, “And what are their grievances today?”

“Oh, the usual.” She ticked off on her fingers, “Gorion’s still mooning over that Corthala girl, Kelaran is angry that we’re in the city and not in the woods, and Moira… Moira has gone over the wall again.”

“Again? That is the fifth time in three weeks! She is not old enough to wander the city unaccompanied, even if she thinks she is.” Anomen sighed and hooked his hammer back on his belt. “I had better go find her. It is getting harder each time. It is not the same as when she was little and we knew we could find her over at Keldorn’s estate, now she seems to take perverse glee in making herself impossible to locate.”

“I was just about to go after her myself. Her armor is missing, and her sword.”

Anomen swore under his breath. So she had gone out in search of trouble, had she? The problem with looking for trouble was that it was so easy to find.

He left the house and began his tour of likely spots, and hoped she wasn’t in some back alley somewhere. And when he did find her, they were going to have a serious talk. He couldn’t understand why she was acting this way, and she had refused to discuss it with either of her parents.

He supposed it was normal to have problems with children at that age, when they were nearly to adulthood and were trying to choose a path in life. He wondered if every parent looked at their children and wondered how they had turned out the way they had.

Moira, their eldest, was the perfect picture of her namesake. She was dark and lovely like the aunt she had never known, but where his sister had been sweet and gentle, his daughter was strong and determined. She had wanted to be a paladin since she could lift a dagger, and would follow him around the Hall like a duckling chasing its mother. He had hinted that perhaps it was time for her to begin her formal training as a squire. She was now seventeen, and though she had been training for years with her mother, she needed to learn the ways of combat with an army.

Perhaps that was the problem. Did Moira no longer wish to be a paladin? She would not be the first to realize that this was not truly the path for them, and perhaps she was afraid they would be disappointed.

His mind wandered to his other children. Gorion, their second child, was a puzzle to him. Physically the boy was the most similar to his father of all his children, but temperamentally they were nothing alike. The boy always seemed a million miles away, and until recently kept to himself quite a bit. Gorion liked to visit his aunt at Candlekeep as much as possible, and for a time they had wondered if he wanted to become a mage, but Anomen was becoming convinced that the boy secretly wished to be a bard. It wasn’t a path he understood himself, but it was a decent enough career.

Gorion was normally a good-natured lad, but that had changed this year. Approaching manhood had produced the expected result – the boy had fallen in love. He and Silrana had no objection to the girl, she was after all Valygar Corthala’s daughter, though she was still too young for anything serious. But things in the Delryn home had become tense when they informed Gorion that staying in the cabin alone over the winter so that he could be near her was not an option.

Of course at that point Kelaran, their third child, had piped up that he could stay there with his older brother, but they had been firm with him that a thirteen-year-old was not an appropriate chaperone for a fifteen-year-old. Now Kelaran was equally sullen. The boy needed to spend more time in the city anyway, he was growing as wild as a wolf. He would disappear into the woods for hours, and seemed reluctant to return.

Silrana had begun to take him on some of her short patrols, and the boy adored it. Silrana had told him the boy would almost certainly be either a druid or a ranger, or possibly both now that druid groves devoted to good were springing up. Many humans had decided that they liked the idea of specializing in more than one profession, and perhaps Kelaran would be no different. Anomen supposed it was only fitting. His son resembled Silrana in many ways, including her red hair and green eyes, so he shouldn’t be surprised that the boy had her love of nature as well.

Anomen had to smile when he thought of his youngest, little Imorina. She seemed to be a blend of both her parents, with a shock of wild red hair and dark eyes and brows. She would be a heartbreaker when she grew up, and a father’s constant worry, he was sure. He was guiltily reminded that Silrana frequently accused him of spoiling her, but he couldn’t help fussing over their ‘late surprise’.

After Kelaran made an early – and nearly catastrophic – arrival, Anomen had prayed to Helm that if it was all the same to him, three children was quite enough. His prayers appeared to be answered, but it seemed Helm had decided they had love enough for one more. They had no more children until nine years later when, after a pleasantly uneventful pregnancy, Imorina was born. Now the four-year-old was the apple of her father’s eye, and happily spoiled by her older siblings as well. The child was simply too cheerful and eager to please to be jealous of.

Anomen walked across one of the large bridges into the Temple district, and breathed a sigh of relief. Moira was sitting on the railing of the bridge, staring at the Order headquarters. She seemed to be studying the massive statues on either side of the main door. As he had expected, she looked every inch ready for battle, and he uttered a quick prayer of thanks that she was all right.

He walked up to his errant daughter. She saw him coming, but pretended to ignore him.

“Are you ready to come with me now? We’ve been worried.”

“Oh, all right.” Moira climbed down off the rail, her face sullen. “I suppose you’re going to yell at me again and tell you how irresponsible I’ve been.”

“You have been irresponsible, but I’m not here to yell at you. We need to talk,” he said softly.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“That’s what you’ve said every time you’ve done this, but this time that answer isn’t good enough. We’re not going home until we’ve talked this through.”

“No. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Anomen bit back the retort that had first come to mind, and decided to be patient with her. “Well, if you won’t talk to me, and you won’t talk to your mother, then who will you talk to? Because your mother and I aren’t blind, we know something is upsetting you terribly, and you need to ask someone for advice.”

Moira looked surprised. After a moment, she stammered out, “Keldorn. I’ll talk to Lord Keldorn.”

“Very well, we’re going there right this moment.” He didn’t allow her to change her mind, he took her arm and marched her straight to the Firecam estate.

A servant showed them in, and Keldorn rose to greet them. The old knight’s iron gray hair had whitened over the years, and his face grown more wrinkled, but he was still a fit man for his age. Anomen pulled him aside and explained the matter to him.

Anomen then told Moira, “I am going back home now. You are to stay here until you and Keldorn have arrived at a solution to your problem. Whatever you say will be private and between the two of you.” He left, knowing he could trust his old friend to sort things out.

Keldorn smiled at the young woman. “Come, lass, join me in sitting by the fire. These old bones feel winter coming before the first frost has arrived.” They sat in the large chairs that he indicated. “Now, what could be bothering a girl like you? A boy perhaps?”

Moira looked slightly disgusted. “Oh, Keldorn, you always think that! Gorion’s the one mooning over his ‘lost love’ as if she won’t be there next summer.”

He chuckled. “Can I help being an old romantic? When a young lady is upset, quite frequently a young man is the cause. Very well, we shall scratch that off the list. Let me see, what should my next guess be? Hmmm, you no longer wish to be a paladin?”

Moira was quiet for a moment, then sighed. “No, that’s not it. I still want to be a paladin more than anything.”

“Are you sure? You parents love you very much, you know, and won’t be disappointed if you have changed your mind. They only want you to be happy.”

“I want to be a paladin. I want to be a knight. But I feel so… so… inadequate.”

Keldorn’s eyebrows rose. “Inadequate? What a strange word to choose.”

“But it’s true. When I go to the Hall, no one says ‘there goes Moira Delryn’, they all say ‘there goes Anomen Delryn’s daughter’.”

A glimmer of understanding came to Keldorn’s eyes. “Lass, you can hardly expect to begin as a squire with the same sort of reputation that your father has had a lifetime to build.”

“I don’t, not really. But I’ll never be able to measure up to him. Father and Mother and you and Aunt Imoen and your friends… you’re all legends in Athkatla. I’m going to spend my whole life in the Order being compared to my father, the perfect knight.”

Keldorn started to chuckle, and could not stop himself from breaking into laughter. At her insulted look, he quickly tried to reassure her. “Ah, my friend, I was not laughing at you. I was merely thinking about your father as a young man, and somehow the words ‘perfect knight’ did not leap to mind.”

“But I’ve heard all the stories they tell about him in the Order. Saving Suldanesselar, defeating dragons, fighting in the Bhaalspawn war…there was even a statue of him in Trademeet! He’s everything a knight should be, and I’ll never be like him.”

Keldorn sighed deeply. “My child, I believe you think this way because you have only seen the end result of years of struggle and doubts. Your father was not always the man he is today. Indeed, I suspect that if he and your mother had not fallen in love, his life would have taken a far darker path.”

“Darker? I… I don’t understand.”

“Your father once had a fierce temper, and a great many doubts about himself that nearly led him astray.” Gently Keldorn said, “How much do you know about your namesake? And about… your grandfather?”

“Mother has told me…”

“No, not her father. Your paternal grandfather, Lord Cor.”

“Father doesn’t talk much about him. He told me his whole family was gone by the time he married Mother, but he really doesn’t like us to ask questions. The boys and I always assumed they were killed by monsters or something.”

“No, it is a much sadder tale than that. Perhaps your father wouldn’t like me to tell you this story, but you are old enough to understand, and I feel you need to hear it.

“Your grandmother was already dead when your father and mother met. That had left Anomen and Moira in the care of your grandfather, Lord Cor. I don’t mean to insult your family, but he was a vile, evil man, an abusive drunkard who never let a chance to be cruel go by. He constantly told your father that he was worthless, and despised him for not wanting to enter the family mercantile business. He treated your aunt as badly, using her as a maid when his drinking left him with little money for servants.

“His father’s demands were why your father could not become a paladin. His father would not sponsor him and pay for his equipment, and to be honest Cor had such an unsavory reputation that none in the Order leapt at the chance to associate themselves with his son. His mother turned to the church for help, and Anomen became a priest. Cor was furious, and even showed up drunk at your father’s squiring ceremony.”

Moira sat open-mouthed. Finally she stammered, “How could anyone not be proud to have a knight as a son?”

“Because Cor was a merchant, first and last. If it did not line his personal pocket he had no interest in it. Your father finally left home and cut himself off from your grandfather. He served as a squire, and tried to attach himself to adventuring groups to prove himself to the Order.

“That was when he met your mother. Later, I joined their group for a time. And it was then that… that your father faced a crisis. Your aunt, your namesake, was murdered. Cor insisted that the culprit was a rival merchant, and demanded that Anomen kill him.”

“But that would have been wrong! The Order doesn’t allow personal vengeance.”

“Exactly so, but still your father was tempted. I could see the desire burning in him to do something that would finally please his father, something his father would praise him for rather than sneer at.”

“He…he didn’t…”

“No, or he wouldn’t be a knight today. It was your mother’s advice that convinced him to hold to the righteous path. He always listened to her above any other person. I think he already loved her, though wild horses wouldn’t have dragged it out of him at the time. Cor was furious, and told Anomen that he was barred from the house until he killed the rival.”

“What happened then?” Moira strangely felt like a little girl again, listening to a bedtime story.

“Anomen went on with his life. He was knighted, and he finally told your mother that he loved her, surprising no one that knew them. By that time I was on furlough from active duty in the Order, so I did not travel with them then, but your father told me all about what happened after that.”

Keldorn hesitated for a moment, his face set in grim lines. “Anomen received a message that proof had been obtained that the rival, Saerk, had indeed been responsible for your aunt’s murder.”

“But that was wonderful. Her killer was brought to justice.”

“It… wasn’t that simple. The message also informed him that his father had tried to exact vengeance himself, and had been killed. Anomen flew into a rage. He blamed himself for his father’s death, feeling that if he had obeyed his father Cor would be alive. He abandoned your mother and their party to kill Saerk.”

Moira’s eyes had grown as large as saucers. The image of her father in a blind rage was obviously not something she had expected.

Keldorn continued, “Silrana pursued him, and stopped him before it was too late. It changed your father. The knowledge that his rage had let him come so close to ruining his life shook him to the core, and from that day forward he worked diligently to control his darker impulses and to rid himself of the doubt and self-hate that his father had driven into him.”

“I just can’t imagine Father acting that way. He’s so… different than that.”

“But it is all true. He came within one swing of his hammer of being expelled from the Order, losing Helm’s favor, and destroying the love he shared with your mother. He told me that had he killed Saerk, he never would have been able to face her again.”

They sat in silence together for many long minutes. Finally Moira spoke. “I can see what you are trying to tell me, Keldorn, that Father isn’t perfect and that I shouldn’t think that I have to be. But I’ll still be compared to him.”

“Let others compare you, it matters little. I am sure you will make your parents proud, and I know you will be a fine paladin. Perhaps one day they will be referring to Anomen as ‘Moira Delryn’s father’.”

The young woman laughed, then her face grew serious again. “There is only one thing I don’t understand. Why was my father so upset when they discovered Saerk was the culprit? Was he not arrested?”

“Oh yes, he was, and convicted of his crimes. Anomen was enraged because of the death of his father.”

“But his father was a drunkard, you said.”

“Yes.”

“And abusive and cruel.”

“Yes.”

“You said he treated Father very badly and kept him from becoming a paladin.”

“All true.”

“Then why was he so upset that he was dead?”

Very softly Keldorn said, “Because he loved him.”

“But…but…”

“Every child desperately wants the love and approval of their parents. Most children grow up happy in their parent’s love and mature beyond that need for acceptance. Your father did not. He never stopped searching for some way to win your grandfather’s love, and with Cor dead he was denied any future chance. No matter how much he hated him, a part of Anomen was still a little boy trying to please the father he loved.”

She smiled sadly. “And I thought I would have a hard time living up to my father’s expectations.”

“Your father has no expectations for you to live up to, except that you do your best. Your parents both want you to follow a path in life that will be fulfilling and that will make you happy. They want nothing more than that.” Keldorn rose to his feet. “It’s getting late, young lady. I should be getting you home now. What are you going to tell your parents?”

She stood and joined him in walking towards the door. “I’m going to ask Father to take me to the Hall and formally request acceptance as a squire. Father said he would buy me whatever I needed,” she grinned. “He’d better be prepared to go shopping tomorrow.”

Keldorn laughed. “It will be the best money he ever spent, lass.”