Born of Evil, Born to Woe

“Very well,” smiled Sillara.  “I will write to my brother.”

Sillara always favored immediate action, and she therefore dismissed Tymor and returned at once to her private chambers.  She carefully rolled the parchment she had been writing on.  He said he would want to read anything I had written in his absence, she thought.  Then she sat at a tall, carved writing desk, a Seranimesti heirloom much older than her own two hundred and seventeen years.  She took out several sheets of parchment, preparing to write at least three copies of the letter.  The journey to the Dylak Thana was long and treacherous, and there was a great chance that any given courier would miscarry.  But what to say to him? thought Sillara as she sat with quill in hand.  I am so poor with words.  And it has been so long.  Tsujatha my brother, what has become of you?  I have invited you to join me here in the Silbrios, but you cannot bear to leave the Golden Desert.  Your duty keeps you there, and I would not wish you otherwise than dutiful.  But I do miss you.  “Time wastes, and I sit here reflecting.  Come, I will write.”  Sillara did not hesitate any longer.  Her flowing script soon covered the pages.

Dearest brother,

Are you surprised to receive a letter from me?  You know me well, and you know how little skill I have in writing.  But I know that you will forgive any inadequacies in my writing.  Are you not my brother?  Here in Seranimesti Castle all has been well until five weeks ago.  It was then that my two sons were taken from me.  Do not be concerned for them, though.  I know that by the time you receive this letter Kan-Terak will have brought them back to our home.  He is already tracking their kidnappers.  Why my sons were taken, I do not know.  The Men who did so have some grievance against the Seranimesti House, but what it can be, I cannot imagine.  But it will not matter once Kesmar and Kestar are safe.  You would love your little nephews, I know.  They are so like their father!  They are, therefore, beautiful.  They are also brave and noble lads.  I am sorry.  I can write no more of them, for their loss lies heavy at my heart.

A large tear dropped on the letter, smudging the words.  Sillara shook her head in self-reproach.  I ought to have stopped writing before I wept on the parchment.  She was ashamed.  “But he is my brother,” she comforted herself.  “He already knows my weakness.”  She picked up her quill and resumed.

What have you been doing in Halchek?  Have you taken on any pupils?  I have become the fighting instructor in Seranimesti Castle.  I have two pupils who are especially skilled.  One is now my House Champion, and the other is the Champion of the Seranimesti Lady.  His name is Tymor Kathel, and it is of him that I wished to write.  He is a lesser son of the Seranimesti House, and he is a noble heart.  His courage is great, and his battle prowess is no less.  But he desires to take a Tamari bride.  Of course, as he is not permitted to leave me, she would have to come here without having met her future lord.  But that is not uncommon in the Dylak Thana, and I think that such a thing would suit Tymor well.  He has asked for a woman of great passion, able to love deeply.  Do you know of any such?  Do you know of any woman who would be willing to leave the Golden Desert and make her home here?  If you do, please send her here with such escort as my father finds fitting to send with the bride of his daughter’s Champion.  I do not know what is proper in such cases, but I am sure that you and he will know.

Tsujatha, my dear, dear brother, would you not come with her?  I long to see you, to show you my sons, to show you that I have truly laid aside my sword.  I have become a trained telepath now.  I would like to share that with you, too.  It has been too long since I have seen you.  If in my beloved Lord’s presence I could wish for anything, it would be that you might be here to share in my joy.

“That does not sound well,” said Sillara to herself.  “It sounds as though I do not truly miss him when Kan-Terak is by.  But I cannot write a lie.  When