Part 13 : Lucalle

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Suak and Klane had a truly unique bond. Only Klane understood how intelligent an alegoyle could be, and how much it could learn. Perhaps too, Suak himself was a particularly clever specimen. In any case, when they had played and trained together in earlier years, Klane had taught Suak to find Lucalle when he gave a specific repeated whistling instruction. He had worked with Lucalle to teach her to recognise his own faithful alegoyle and not to be afraid of it, and Suak recognised the bond between the three of them and in time he came to treat Lucalle with the same respect he offered to Klane. The final flowering of this teamwork was a method for simple communication. Suak would submit to allowing a small strip of coloured cloth to be tied around his left leg. Flying from one to another, the cloth would be removed by the receiver. Although she did not read, Lucalle and Klane devised a system of simple signals based on the way the cloth was knotted and marked. They had a small repertoire of prearranged messages both had memorised, so that Suak could be their go between. 

That is how the queen and her consort met alone at sunset near the old ruins on the north bank of the river Aber, just as they had agreed they would do in response to a specific cloth message. It was a town abandoned long ago after a Great Burning and it had no name anymore, which was as the Vow of Earth decreed it should be. 

Klane had forgotten quite how beautiful Lucalle was. The queen was dressed in fine formal clothes, richly resplendent and a reminder of her royal status. She did not look best pleased, for they had parted under a cloud. 

“The wanderer, returns,” Lucalle said with a cool eye. “What do you want?”

His adventures in Ironhope and his journey across Syldriss, with the responsibility of the exiles weighing heavily on him, had changed something in Klane. The wanderlust he had experienced had been sated by the Great Burning, and he realised how much he had missed his life partner. It was time to mature and to stop this futile quest for vengeance on the Conclave. 

“I am sorry, Lucalle,” he began simply. “I have much to tell you. But, I must say first that if it pleases you, I would come back for good and never desert you again.” 

Something in the queen thawed a little and Klane understood that not all was lost.

He held up his hand. “Do not answer me now. I would beg leave that first you hear my tale and then you may judge as you wish.” 

Klane was not without a certain guile after all. He knew the queen’s curiosity would keep her from rejecting him straightway, and he knew that the prospect of the prizes of Ironhope with a blacksmith and a community of other useful skills to add to the strength of her tribe would be an offer she could not easily turn down. By the time he had finished his story, Lucalle was smiling again. In truth, despite their quarrels, she had been hurt by his departure and had longed for Klane’s return. He could tell that he was forgiven. 

“You may kiss me now,” she said archly. 

“As my queen commands,” Klane answered her.

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