ORIGINAL CHAPTERS WITH DELETED SCENES

KINDRED SPIRITS

Do not forget who chose you for this position,” she continued, capturing Kaliam’s gaze in her own and refusing to let go. “You have been called to be Sentinel of Alleble, and King Eliam does not err in his judgments.”

Kaliam was silent for many long moments. Indecision played upon his brow as he searched her eyes. Then he smiled subtly and seemed to have come to a conclusion. Merewen looked at him questioningly.

“You are quite a lady,” he said at last. “Tomorrow, at first light, meet me in the King’s secluded courtyard. There is something we must discuss.”

“There is mischief in your smile, I think,” she replied with a nervous laugh. “But I will meet with you there, as you wish.”

Kaliam grinned all the more mischievously. Then he lifted Merewen’s left hand to his lips and kissed it. “First light, it is then!” he said. “But come, it is time now to meet the new Twelfth Knight.”

(AUTHOR’S NOTE: THIS WAS ORIGINALLY
A CHAPTER TITLED “FIRST LIGHT.”)

Lady Merewen found a surprise on the doorstep of her chamber: a small dark branch bursting with delicate pure-white blossoms. She suspected Kaliam, of course. His coyness the day before had certainly meant he was up to something. But what? she wondered as she stooped to pick up the branch.

It was beautiful to behold. The branch was soft as if clothed in bark made of dark felt. The white flowers grew in clusters and smelled vaguely like honey and melon. What does this mean? She wondered, but Merewen meant to find out. Bearing the mysterious branch, she left her chamber and set off for the King’s secluded courtyard.

Moments later, the light of dawn spilled out between the peaks of Pennath Ador, setting the morning sky ablaze with pink and orange. The radiant sunrise awakened the blossoms and foliage of the trees and shrubs lining the twisting paths of the courtyard. And as Merewen walked she could not help but feel that something of great import was about to happen.

She found Kaliam sitting on the stone bench where they had sat before, near the three-tiered fountain where many paths came together. When he saw her, he stood. And he was dumbstruck, for Merewen had worn a long, flowing gown rather than armor. It was black and the braids of Merewen’s silver hair fell upon the dark material like strings of diamonds upon velvet. Deep royal blue was woven within her wide fluted sleeves and appeared mysteriously between the folds in her dress.

“I do not recall seeing you dress this way,” he said as she approached. “Fit to be a queen, you are.”

Merewen blushed, and looked down at the branch.

“I see that you have returned the token,” said Kaliam. He breathed a sigh of great relief that puzzled Merewen.

“So it was you who left it upon my threshold,” she replied. “I have not seen such a limb before. It is very beautiful.”

“Beautiful, and full of meaning according to the customs of Alleble,” said Kaliam. But when he searched Merewen’s eyes and found confusion, he said, “Hold the token . . . for now. After you have heard what I came here to say, you may decide what to do with it. Now, come, sit beside me.”

Merewen sat down and stared into the dark eyes of her friend. There was something there—in his expression as well—but it was not guile or mischief. She could not say for sure what it was. Merewen felt nervous and nibbled at her bottom lip.

“It was just after King Eliam appointed me Sentinel,” Kaliam began. “And I noticed a beautiful young swordmaiden among the knights of my charge. Her skill with a sword caught my attention—well, that and her beauty. Never had I seen hair of silver on a young maiden or eyes of violet.”

“Young and old, you seemed . . . soft and hard. So wounded you were by your past in that dark place that I wondered if you would wither out of guilt. And at first, I thought it was pity that moved me. But pity is a burden to the heart. And when I found myself in your presence, my heart was lifted. Nay, it was not pity that moved me. It was awe, reverence, and hope!”

“But, my lord,” replied Merewen, her violet eyes glistening. “King Eliam gave me the spark of hope that you speak of . . . but you are the one who fanned it to a flame.”

“If I have given you anything,” Kaliam said. “Then, I have been repaid tenfold. For when I have felt weak, you have spoken strength to me. When I have doubted, you have spoken truth. And when I have feared, you have spoken courage. Lady Merewen, I am honored by your presence in my life.” Kaliam cleared his throat, turned and picked something up off the ground from behind the bench.

“And so, in keeping with the custom,” Kaliam went on. “I have made for you this gift.” Kaliam produced a marvelously wrought sheath for a sword. It was dark leather embroidered with an ornate pattern that crisscrossed up its length. Merewen’s mouth dropped open in silent awe. She carefully placed the branch on the bench at her side.

“I inlaid it with murynstil,” Kaliam explained. “So that even your sharp blade will do this sheath no harm. I stitched together the leather halves with Yewland Silk, so it will endure through the years.”

Merewen laughed aloud. “You sew?!”

Kaliam frowned. “I stitched it!” he said. “What of it?”

“It is just that . . . well, with your big fingers,” Merewen tried to continue through her giggles. “I thought you’d be too clumsy to sew!”

Kaliam turned red and started to put the sheath away. “You do not like it then?”

Merewen was too quick for him. She snatched it out of his hands. “I absolutely love it!” she said, turning it this way and that, admiring the artistry. “It would take a dragon to tear it from my grasp! My lord, on what occasion do you present me with such a priceless gift?”

Kaliam drew in a deep breath and said, “These are uncertain times, m’lady Merewen. The dark power to our west burgeons, and Alleble waits for the storm to come. I feel in my heart that we stand on the brink of many changes, for good or for ill I cannot say. But when Paragor bends his full might upon us, when we respond in kind, and when, through great hardship and loss one side emerges victorious, The Realm will be a changed place.

“But even if the whole world falls down around us, my love for you will not change.” Kaliam slid off the bench and knelt upon one knee. He gently took the sheath from Merewen and lay it back on the ground. Then, he took Merewen’s left hand and said, “It is the custom of Alleble when a knight wishes to ask a maiden to marry him, that he leave a branch from a blooming hawthorn tree upon her doorstep. If she returns it to him, then she agrees to be betrothed to him. Lady Merewen, I ask your hand in marriage.”

Merewen’s heart pounded in her chest, and she practically threw the hawthorn limb at Kaliam. Then she dove into his arms, nearly bowling him over. “I thought you would never ask!” she exclaimed.

They stood and embraced in the warming sun. Silent and still, they remained like the many other statues of heroes in that courtyard. But at the stroke of a loud bell, they parted. And Kaliam said, “As much as I love seeing you in such a resplendent gown, you will need your armor. We have a Twelfth Knight to train.”

AUTHOR’S COMMENTARY:

I’m a sappy romantic. Ask my wife. And I guess Kaliam inherited that quality from me. The relationship between Kaliam and Merewen, however, was one that was not originally intended. The characters themselves (as they are wont to do) took on lives of their own and well . . . became crazy about each other. And in the bleakest moments of The Final Storm, I wanted a scene or two of hope. Though we kept one of the two “hope scenes,” Kaliam and Merewen’s marriage, in the published version of The Final Storm, the readers never got to see his proposal.

My editor and I both loved this scene so much that it made it through several rounds of edits. But of the few chapters we could have cut, this one had the fewest vital scenes. Notice in the published version of chapter 23 “Kindred Spirits,” Kaliam does not tell Merewen to meet him in the King’s garden at first light. In the published version, Kaliam proposes “off camera.” Also note that in the original version, Kaliam made a sheath for Merewen as opposed to the hand-embroidered heirloom sash that you read about in the published version, chapter 34 “A Time for All Things.” I’m grateful to have a chance to share this chapter with you. It is special to me in a number of ways. There is, within Kaliam’s words, a line or two from a song I wrote when I proposed to my wife, Mary Lu.