Chapter 16: His mother’s fury
"How was Aldein’s company?" he asked, accepting the plate of stew and fresh bread that his mother set before him.
"Educational," Garrick replied with a chuckle.
"That man has opinions about everything from grain prices to the political situation in the capital. Some of them are even worth listening to."
As they ate, his father regaled him with stories from his younger days—tales of adventure and misadventure that seemed to grow more elaborate with each telling. He spoke of the year he’d spent trading in the lowland cities, of the exotic goods and stranger customs he’d encountered there. He told him about the summer he’d helped drive a herd of horses to the great fair at Camlynn and the week he’d spent lost in the forests east of the village after taking what he’d thought was a shortcut.
"The world’s a bigger place than these mountains might suggest," he said, gesturing toward the window where the peaks stood silhouetted against the star-filled sky.
"But home is where a man’s roots grow deep. Never forget that, son. No matter how far the Origin might carry you, this valley will always be part of who you are."
The words carried weight beyond their simple meaning, and Jaenor found himself nodding thoughtfully as he considered them.
His mother sat at the table, listening to her husband. She kept glancing towards her son and husband; a smile hung on her lips. She seemed content that two men she loved were present before her.
As the meal ended, Garrick’s eyes grew heavy.
Jaenor helped him to his bed, the old man’s snores filling the room.
Jaenor turned to rest for the night, but a clatter from the kitchen stopped him.
His mother stood in the kitchen, her auburn hair tied back, her dress clinging to her slender frame.