Part Fifty-Nine
After they had taken some time to unpack, determine what needed repair or washing, and locate their various soaps and implements of grooming the four guests of the Treeweavers set out with both Lain and Loriol to see the various washing facilities.
Early in their occupation, the Elves had erected a network of windmills, mill-driven water lifts, chutes and ditches to bring water from the river to their area of habitation, which they preferred to make near the oldest trees, rather than where water might be most conveniently drawn.
The water flowed into the Water House, and was then filtered through layers of leaves, charcoal, and woven fabric, blessed in the names of the gods, and stored in barrels. When the season was wet and they had full wells and cisterns, the Elves traded the barreled water to the Freemen, who lacked suitable drinking water in their lands, for grain, which they were able to grow in surplus, now they did not labor to feed the Dark Lord's armies. The Elves took what portion of the grain payment seemed good to them, for grinding to flour in their mills, and traded the rest again, along with barreled water, to Dwarves, for the making of ale and liquor, as Dwarves lived in mountain-carved cities, where grain could not be produced, and received in exchange what gems and metal the Dwarves were willing to part with.
Thus, the Elves of the Silver Wood, with investment in mills, lifts, filters, barrels and some carts and rafts, always had water, flour, metal, and gems. Other necessities of Elven life came to them from the wood, as they knew many plants and uses for every part of them. What was deemed unuseful was designated as fuel for heating water. The wood also provided game, which Sylvan Elves were somewhat more likely to hunt than those Elves who dwelled further west and who had developed moral objections to taking the life of animals without need.
In the short time since the war, their Lord, with good advice from some friends who were not Elves, had set in motion several trade routes and a communal system of working both the land restoration and those chores that provided for the residents that he could leave his domain for months at a time and return to find things operating even better than when he had left.
Many of the residents were young. It might not have been obvious to those of other races, as all Elves seemed ageless to mortals, but the Elves could see it. Gwindor supposed there was not an Elf older than 1000 years and most were barely half that age. Some residents were wed and had families with them, but many more were unmarried Elves of either gender who had come from other Sylvan settlements to restore the beauty of this land which had been quite ravaged by the war.
For all these reasons, because the Lord was youthful and absent, because decisions were made with votes, because those from noble and less noble Elven houses worked chores alongside each other, and because they had abundant supplies, the settlement felt more free and permissive to Dale than any he had visited.
He still felt strange and out of place; he had been there perhaps a couple of hours and already he saw radiant faces peering down from trees and out from behind trunks and from door and shutters of sheds and houses for work or storage. Even feeling he was an attraction, Dale did not sense judgment or pity so much as he had elsewhere, but more excited curiosity.
He could admit, some of the attention was created by those he traveled with, but his hearing was keen and he knew very well much of the comments related to the fact that Orc-Killer had come to them with the Elf-Prince, whom he had rescued in the war and that they had even brought several Orcs along with them. Some were only interested in seeing Beryl, who was older than the grandfathers of many of these Elves. A few were interested in seeing what manner of Men visited them. Mostly, Dale thought, he had become their topic of conversation, even if many were also excited to have Gwindor, Lenaduiniel and Beryl staying with them.
The bathing pavilions were built over thick stone foundations that contained fires for heating the baths, thus the water did not have to be hot before pouring into the bath. Lain said that Dwarves had come and done all the stonework in their settlement for no payment but the opportunity to show the Elves their skills. "No mortar," Lain said, "each stone is cut precisely to lock into its place."
"I remember, when I was young, there were Dwarves in the mountains to the west and we got on well with them, as with the Halflings, and the Men that lived over the hills. Twas the Northerner Orcs we all worried about."
"We traded them syrup and hops," Lain said, "Our Lord says there are different sorts of Orcs. He saw the mine goblins and the foul legions of the Dark Lord and great large Orcs that served the Wizard from the west."
"Yes. I know very much about Orcs. There are little Mine-dwellers, broad knuckle-dragging Easterners, large, strangely-Mannish Westerners, lithe Northerners, and even big Mountain Orcs, but they are few these days."
Laurel interrupted then to ask if the pavilion for females was where she believed. Loriol apologized for not answering and pointed toward the house of Healing, saying the bathing pavilions were each either side of that building and Laurel would be able to find her way easily, as there was a pebbled path. Loriol then pointed out a smaller pavilion between the Water House and House of Healing where there were large basins for laundering.
Laurel said she would begin their laundry before going to bathe, if perhaps Dale would later complete the rinsing and hanging. Dale agreed and Fei then said he would help Laurel begin the wash then return to bathe.
"Do you wish me to bathe with you, Dale?" Lain asked. As soon as he had, Loriol leaned and whispered at his ear, saying that he suspected Dale to be married. Lain knew that Dale was even younger then he, and at 44, Lain was yet thought too young for marriage. He did not believe Loriol could be correct, so he looked at Dale and asked him. "Are you married?"
Dale did not answer immediately. He did not understand why Lain would ask.
Loriol looked at Lain sternly. He was several hundred years old and knew this question was a little too forward for an Elf one had just met, but decided that if perhaps Lain's family had known Dale's then they might be considered childhood acquaintances and this might excuse the behavior.
"No."
"Were you?"
"Never."
"Oh! Then you must have your heart set on one and not yet spoken vows! Is it someone here? Is it our Elf-Princess?" Lain had already heard from Loriol of the other guests while Dale had been unpacking. Being a Vale Elf, Lain knew no nobles, but liked to think of those who had come to live among Sylvan Elves, such as the Elf-King, as his.
Tsuki began laughing, understanding that the youthful Lain must be reading Dale's heart by gazing in his eyes.
"It is not someone I feel I want to mention just now," Dale said irritably, not enjoying that Tsuki laughed.
Just then, Beryl strode toward the bathing Pavilion, with Kato walking behind him, like a servant, carrying a large bowl full of various soaps and washes as well as a bundle of clothes. He adjusted his load as he saw Dale and Tsuki there, so he was able to lift a hand to wave at them.
Lain gasped. "The Halfling is missing a finger!"
"Yeah, but it's just the little one, it's not like he's lost his health and will, only the ability to balance a teacup."
"It is not really missing. He keeps it in a box," Tsuki said.
"He'll let you see it for a copper," Dale told Lain.
Loriol laughed. "I think they are having fun with you."
"I am fun to have."
Dale laughed. "You are welcome to share a bath with me, in that case, but Tsuki bathes with me also. I know that many Elves do not wish to bathe with Men, though I've heard that Rangers do occasionally."
"Lain, you can help me wash my hair," Loriol said. "There are only so many baths here and their other companions will also need room."
When Dale reached the top of the stone steps he saw that Kato was sitting upon a bench soaking his feet in a bowl of hot water. Beryl was already in a bath nearby. Dale bowed and hissed at Kato's ear, "What are you doing for Beryl that he towed you here to leer at us? Your feet would not even touch the bottom of one of these baths."
"Perish the thought," Kato said merrily. "Beryl has made himself my bodyguard, as you well know, and so I must be near, but Beryl says it would seem improper here if we bathed together, though we have all shared many a river and stream. You may place a tie over my eyes if you do not trust me."
Dale did not, but sat further along the bench to remove his boots. Tsuki undressed more quickly and walked down the submerged steps into the next available bath. When he stood on the bottom, he moved to his left side to rest his injured arm on the edge of the rectangular basin. Lain averted his eyes after noting Tsuki had a blue eagle painted on his back.
Gwindor came then and offered Tsuki some fresh bandaging and also some clothing. He had brought some for Dale as well. They supposed being nobility Gwindor had somehow acquired these things very quickly, and black leather was likely not in fashion here, even if Wood Elves did find some leather gear suitable and even attractive.
Dale did not use the steps when he had undressed, but slipped into the water from the side of the bath. He glanced to Tsuki and saw Lain looking toward them from over Tsuki's shoulder. Lain turned his eyes. Dale spoke when the other Elves were not looking. "It has been a long time since we bathed together like this."
"Yes."
Dale touched Tsuki's damp hair. "It's grown long."
Tsuki moved his right hand through the water to touch Dale, "As has yours."
Dale smiled. "Why did you say you would stay in another room?"
"I did not know that you wanted me to be so obvious in the presence of strangers."
Dale leaned in and put his lips to Tsuki's ear. He whispered to him, "Come to my room later." Dale straightened then, turned his back and said, brightly, "Help me wash my hair?"
Tsuki nodded and reached for the hair-wash. Dale's hair truly needed to be cleaned, as it had acquired a musty odor, darkness at the roots, encrustment of mud, grass, and blood, as well as many tangles. It was no wonder at all Dale had been irritable. Tsuki wondered if all this length had grown since the Elves took Dale in, or if he had once displayed long red hair-clumps.
Fei came later and sat upon the bench. He seemed tired and sniffled. "You found the easier chore, Dale. I think all the filth was in the clothes. The laundry is for you to finish."
"That is not true, Fei, most of the filth was in Dale's hair!"
Dale put a hand atop Tsuki's head and dunked him into the hot water to rinse the lather from his hair. "You do not look well, Fei. The water is hot, and not so fouled. We are nearly finished, then you should use this bath. I think you should be quick and then make yourself dry and go to your chamber for rest. If there are any chores demanded of us, we can take your share."
"I ask not that."
"It is no trouble," Tsuki assured him. "We would rather see you well. I must go fix a broth for the injured, so I will also make some for you. Perhaps we can find some tea."
"I will find some way to repay you," Fei said, and then bowed.
Tsuki thought it best not to disagree with Fei's judgment that there was debt to repay or his intention to make payment. He suspected it would only wound his honor. "Do you have dry clothes to wear after your bath?"
"No."
"Gwindor left those there for anyone who should need them," Tsuki said, "I think he received more gifts and loans of clothing than he could use himself." The clothes were those Gwindor had offered Tsuki, but Tsuki already had one remaining set of clean clothing.
Tsuki left the bath and then sat with his mirror and shaving blade to clean the stubble that had grown in their harried days through the wetlands. He then began to comb his hair as Dale was getting out of the bath. It took a short time for Tsuki to comb the tangles from his hair. He dressed quickly and then rose to leave, saying he would see the others later but should see to the injured as soon as possible.
Lain watched Tsuki walked down the steps, feet bare, hair loose, and wearing a white rabbit fur jacket over silk garments. "That one doesn't seem quite mortal."
Loriol chuckled at the Vale Elf's accent. "Think him descended from Dark Elves, do you? He does not have the leaves for it."
"How should we know what shape of leaf they have, if none of us lived to know those Elves who were never so enlightened as to march west, when called by a god to do so."
Loriol shook his head. "I just expected they would be similar to us; I think Tsuki is only a very well-mannered Man."
"I wonder if Beryl knows of Dark Elves."
Loriol glanced to the bath where Beryl and Gwindor were washing. "The Green are the most noble of Sylvan folk, but Gwindor's line is nobler for they followed the march all the way to the sea, but the Lady of the Golden Wood is noblest in the land, for her people actually crossed the sea and dwelt with gods and then returned to teach us. To those Elves, we are all called 'Dark.'"
"The Elf-King and his children have blond hair. They must be from a most noble line, even if they are from a rather mingled branch of that line."
"Perhaps you are right, I do not think it is for us to know."
"Aye, but I did not mean to say Beryl's line was the most noble, only that they must have been a brave and noble folk to regret the decision to remain east of the mountains and to enjoy the river and woods and then to trek west on their own, without a god to guide them, and to prove themselves as allies in battle to those who had seen the sea. And if he is an elder among Elves, then he may have heard from others what the Lost Host looks like."
"Is it true the Vale Elves are masters of lore, but had no writing before recent time?"
"I believe it is true. Or rather, masters of ancient lore and our own history. We had few songs about other Elves."
"Then I would expect one of your people knew the lyrics to describe the Lost Host and the Orcs have deprived us of the information."
"Yes," Lain said sadly. "Even Tigh was not so old that he had learned all our songs."
"Perhaps Dale..." Loriol turned as Dale was standing to dress, and he saw all those scars that were visible on the front of his body. Loriol turned back quickly, away from the sight and held one handover his mouth. He felt sickened.
"I saw also," Lain whispered, and clasped Loriol's free hand in one of his. "Those are no battle scars. What is it?"
"Orc torture," Loriol rasped.
"All the gods!" Lain whispered, "When they were done the massacre, they must have taken him with them." Lain shivered and felt tears in his eyes. Dale must have seen. He must have seen their parents tortured and murdered. And then the Orcs took him away.
"It should not have happened to an Elf," Loriol said, "Gods, how could it happen? How?"
"Dale could not have been older than 16 years at the time of the massacre," Lain said slowly.
Loriol understood. An Elf had the ability to surrender their life, to simply die when they had been so violated, tortured or maimed that living was constant pain. The creator had desired them to be free of natural death and near ageless, but not to be subject to eternal suffering. The ability to divorce the spirit from the body with an act of will was the creator's insurance against such torment. Very young Elves did not possess the mental strength to will their spirit to blessed realms, this also was insurance designed by the creator, as younger Elves were most passionate and emotional and may end their life in this land before such action was truly necessary if allowed the ability. For this reason, young Elves were kept close to home and rarely allowed to interact with those of other races, or even Elves of other lines.
"We must stop crying," Loriol whispered. "Dale does not need us to inform him how sorrowful his past seems. We will make him feel bad if we cry."
"Yes, I shall try to think how happy I am to know that one more of my people survived by any means," Lain cried. "Gwindor and Beryl are so noble for not crying over Dale!"
"Dale is so brave! I should like to learn if those Orcs that tortured Dale and murdered your people have seen vengeance! It now perplexes me more that he has arrived with Orcs in tow."
"Hush, Dale is passing!" Lain forced a laugh and wiped his tears. "Farewell Dale, hope to see ya soon!" he called then.
"Please send for me if you need anything at all!" Loriol said.
Dale knew they were crying over him, but it was nothing he had not already experienced when he had first been found and taken in by Elves. Dale continued toward the laundry pavilion, but then, he turned and looked at the two Elves half dressed and wiping their eyes. "Was there something you wished to ask me?" Dale asked calmly.
"Is it true the Orcs who killed our people took you away with them?"
"Yes."
"Have they...Have they ever seen justice for the massacre?"
"All Orcs of that Clan who took part in that massacre were killed. There are now only two survivors of that Clan, but they had no part in murdering the Vale Elves, in fact, one of them was not yet living at that time."
"And...are you certain these two will seek no vengeance upon Elves?"
"Quite certain." Dale sucked in a deep breath. "You see, one of them is me, and the other is my son, and so the only two Orcs of that Clan are also Vale Elves. That is a better sort of vengeance than the massacring of Orcs in punishment for massacring Elves. Such vengeance sets a double standard that perpetuates Orc hatred of Elves. Assimilating into their society and effecting change has become for me a much more satisfying form of justice." Dale sucked in another breath and released it slowly. "That was easier to say than I expected, but still very difficult."
"D-Dale, who was it that massacred the Orcs?"
"Twas I."
"All of them?"
"Yes. It took me ten years with them to become quite mad and strong enough for the task, but I did it. Now, I do not think that was the best way to honor my lost people, but as I suggested, I was quite mad at the time."
"And why have you brought Orcs here, where we have young Elves living?" Loriol asked, his voice grown strong and firm.
Dale bowed to him. "Because I decided that killing Orcs every time they kill some Elves is no way to stop killing. I am trying to find another way to deal with them. Soon, we shall have to deal with them one way or another." Dale took in another deep breath. "I must go do the laundry now. I hope to see you later."
"Is he mad?" Loriol whispered when Dale had gone. "He called himself an Orc."
"When Dale told me of his past, Tsuki said he had told me more in straightforward manner than he told most people in riddles over long period of time, but he just told you two of his past in an even more honest manner!"
Loriol jumped to find the Halfling suddenly at his side.
"I think perhaps he tires of speculation and would rather tell the sordid tale than have so many Elves peering out at him imagining what might have happened."
"Dale is so brave!" Lain cried.
Tsuki knocked at the door to the guesthouse and then waited. He knocked at the door again and waited. Duma opened the door, as Tsuki was about to knock a third time. "Tsuki," he acknowledged, "I was almost asleep."
Tsuki nodded and then walked inside. Somehow, the house had, in a few hours, become very messy. There were damp things hanging from beams and furniture, the air smelt sickly, one mattress was on the floor near the fire, another was lying across some chairs. Tashmetum was naked and rolling on the floor, dangerously close, Tsuki thought, to Duma's tools and stones, which seemed to litter much of the floor. There were several washbasins, empty now, but wet and likely not rinsed, and certainly not properly stowed away. Other wet things were piled in a basket. Dog was lying on a bed without a mattress.
Tsuki calmly set the pot of broth on the table, which was cluttered with Ugarit's assorted belongings. "What happened?" Tsuki did not see Ugarit, but he supposed she was either sleeping or hiding behind the blankets hanging from the beams. Before Duma answered, Tsuki moved to the nearest window and opened the shutters.
"Is Dog going to get better?" Duma asked.
Tsuki opened another window and then went to Dog. He was naked, though covered by a blanket, and he had been bathed. "You washed him?"
"Ugarit did. Tsuki...is he really going to be well again?"
"Tell me what happened."
Duma sat down on the bed nearest Dog. "Dog soiled his clothing and bed and Ugarit had already washed everything. She did a lot of work, I suppose. And she just...got very angry and drew her knives. I thought she was going to kill him. Maybe she did not really intend that, but I believed it. Maybe she was angry because I believed it. She was hissing and cursing you. She said she did not know that when you tried to save him he would be in this state and that dying in some filthy bed was no way for an Orc to go. I smacked her."
"With your hand?"
"With the flail, probably too hard. It did not make her submissive at all. She cut my arm." Duma lifted the sleeve of his shirt to show a bandage. "On the right side too," he whispered. "I got the other on the right side from her as well, well, from taking Dog's arrow for her."
"And then Ugarit cleaned Dog?"
"Yes. I suppose I should have done something. I think she wanted me to do something, but I was angry she cut me, and I was angry about Dog too. He seems like he will wake sometimes, but then he just falls asleep again. She cleaned everything, and I suppose I should have hung these things and done some cleaning, but there are so many Elves outside. Beryl sent some Elf to collect our leather gear for cleaning and he even took my pants and boots."
"I am sorry, Duma. Perhaps there were things you could have done to improve the situation, but it was likely wrong to make you feel responsible for one seriously injured, and a baby and Ugarit as well. You are young."
"I am 9!" Duma said loudly. He then sighed and extended a bare leg to kick a stone out of Tashmetum's reach. "Nine is not young for an Orc. Orcs are sent into battle when they are newly-spawned."
"Perhaps they should never have been. I do not mean that I believe Orcs should be removed from existence. The act of making them was done long ago. Now that there are Orcs, perhaps they deserve to live, as their creation was not their own doing, but, perhaps it is wrong for Orcs to fight so young."
"I feel tired and...sad."
"Your mood does seem quite depressed. Here, you must help; I cannot come and do everything, though I will help. Wear my pants to walk outdoors and hang this laundry. I will drape myself in one of these blankets the Elves provided, while inside, and I will see if I can make Dog eat."
Duma sat with slumped shoulders, but he took the pants when Tsuki offered them. They were short on his legs, but that meant the hems would not be soiled when he walked barefoot to hang the laundry.
Duma put a knife in his teeth, gathered a coil of rope from the floor
with the basket of laundry and then went outside.
Tsuki saw there were three remaining beds as he took a blanket to dress
himself. He then moved about the room to arrange the beds on their sides
to make a crude triangular pen. He lay a blanket within and then went
to lift Tashmetum. She was quite larger and heavier than he expected and
drooling viciously, but he did know that Orcs grew quickly. He could see
tiny white teeth cutting through her gums, though fangs were not yet among
them.
Tsuki put the baby inside the pen and then went to the table. The brother was still there, and warm. He first pulled a bench closer to Dog's bed and then, with the bench to sit upon, brought the pot and a spoon to feed the small Orc.
Dale was nearly done with the laundry. It seemed a time when other Elves had no need to do their wash. Laurel had had plenty of room to separate their garments and gear made of cloth into the cold, warm and hot wash basins. They had already been scrubbed against the boards and Dale was to fish the wash out from the wash, wring it lightly and put it into rinse basins. Despite his years in the wild, Dale knew well what manner of fabric, stain and dye treatment demanded which temperature wash or rinse. He was an Elf, and regardless of gender, an Elf learned how to care for their fine clothing. Those who served as soldiers often had need to do their own wash.
Dale did not really enjoy doing laundry, but the pavilion made it pleasant enough. He felt good just being near trees again. Here, even the buildings had plants growing over them, or alongside them. It was lovelier than the forts, or Beryl's house. It was perhaps equally lovely as the home of the Elf-Lord, where Dale had lived during his rehabilitation, but Dale liked this place more, because the Sylvan style was more alike to the homeland he half remembered than domed Elf-wrought buildings of stone.
He had seen Lain and Loriol pass by, and go in separate directions. Gwindor and Beryl had also separated and gone by. Kato had been walking after Beryl again, carefully walking over the paths with clean feet. Fei and Laurel had met near the House of Healing. Laurel had gone inside, to inquire about Galadhiel, then Laurel and Fei had returned to the Treeweavers' together.
As Dale was wringing wash from the rinse basins and tossing the damp things into a basket, a female elf came up to the pavilion carrying a basket of her own. She struck Dale as strange, for though Elves at their leisure enjoyed fine clothing, when they had work to do, they tended to wear somewhat less fine garments. This gown the Elf wore not only seemed to fine, for its weave, trimmings, embroidery and beadwork, but it was rather immodestly cut, particularly for a female preparing to bend over a washboard.
She wore an apron, but still, it seemed strange.
"Do you need some help there?" Dale asked.
"No," she said as she dropped the basket. She then proceeded to sort the garments into the basins, mostly into the cold, with a few small garments going into the warm, and to add some liquid form of soap alike to hair-wash to the water. She took a wooden paddle down from a hook on a beam and stirred the cold wash water.
Dale noticed a familiar and rather fancy green cloak in the wash. "Are you Beryl's daughter?"
"Are you Dale?"
"Yes. Dale Maple."
Caratathren laid the paddle across the edge of the basin and then made an impressively low curtsey. "I am Caratathren of the Grey Elves, a pleasure to make your acquaintance Master Maple."
"It is a lovely dress you are wearing."
"This old thing? I have a closet full." To Dale, she most definitely seemed Beryl's daughter. She also had red hair and light purple eyes. Caratathren left her laundry soaking and walked to stand near Dale. "Beryl says you are one of the Vale Elves."
"Yes."
"Is it true there are no females surviving in your line?"
"That is what I hear, or, I have not heard of one."
"You must feel so sad. Can I do anything for you?"
"It is not so bad."
"Yes," Caratathren said slowly. "Beryl says you have one child, but there is no surviving mother and your child is only halfelven."
"That is true," Dale said slowly. It was not the most honest way to tell of Duma either.
"Is it not difficult raising a child on your own?"
"Yes?"
"Have you considered marrying again...?"
"I was not married before."
Caratathren looked up into Dale's eyes. Her voice became icy. "Beryl did not tell me you were married now!"
"Pardon?"
Caratathren produced a handkerchief from between her breasts and then began to cry into it. "I am so embarrassed. Forgive me! I thought you were unmarried. Oh, I feel so foolish! Please forgive me!"
"Why does everyone ask me whether I am married today?"
Caratathren looked up and said calmly, "What do you mean?"
"I am not married, but today it seems everyone assumes that I am."
"You are not? But..." Caratathren looked into Dale's eyes again. "You are. Trust me, I have looked at enough Elves to know."
"To know what, if you would forgive my asking."
"To know your heart by looking in your eyes."
"But, I really am not married. I just..." Dale lowered his voice, "have a sort of arrangement with one who is male, if you forgive me saying so."
Caratathren began laughing and then crying. Suddenly, she lifted her head and made a brief curtsey. "Excuse me now, Master Maple, I must see Beryl. It was nice to make your acquaintance."
"And you also," Dale said quietly as he watched Caratathren march away from the pavilion.
A moment later, Beryl and Kato came strolling to the wash pavilion smoking pipes. "I suppose we are to do the wash now, Caerig," Beryl said.
"Hullo, Dale!" Kato said cheerily.
"You really suggested to your daughter that I might marry her?" Dale demanded of Beryl.
"I am sorry about that Dale, was she terribly dramatic?"
Dale said nothing.
"She would not have given up unless you were devoted to another." Dale was about to suggest this a stupid thing to say when Beryl added, "I knew you were fond of Tsuki of course, but how devoted, I was not certain."
"I knew," Kato said.
Dale shrugged. He would have guessed Beryl also knew. "Why would you suggest your daughter marry me in any case?"
"Lain and Tigh are brothers, thus even if they each have children, they will be cousins and too close to marry. I just thought, if there was a small chance, we might try to continue the line of Vale Elves. However, one does not chose whom they love, they simply love them. If you are not to marry, then you are not to marry. I only wish Caratathren would seem so content with her situation."
"I see," Dale said. Caratathren was likely only a few thousand
years younger than her father was, and she had never been married. Whether
she had reason to blame Beryl for her unwed state Dale did not know, and
did not wish to know. He thought, in a way, it was comforting to believe
that he was not the only one who had difficulty dealing with their child.