He was convinced that everything could be overcome with time, and the best way to spend that time was to do what he loved. Exploring the forest was exactly what he needed, and investigating with purpose made it seem as if fate was offering him a path for resolution. Despite what Sy had said, the delver knew he could still help the town; he wanted to help the town. It was never his intention to put himself ahead of anyone else or to abandon Burbon.
As he ran across the muddy streets and through the slowly relenting rains, he looked to the west with growing anticipation. In his mind, he even mapped out a path to the nearest gate. For a brief instant, he wondered if the soldiers would open it for him. There were still two river rogues outside the wall. It wouldn't matter, of course. He could climb the barrier in a heartbeat if it was necessary. He could be in Dark Spruce in mere moments. All he had to do was turn to the west.
Another power, however, forced him to stay, held him to Burbon like a great iron anchor that kept the greatest sailing ships stable even during the fiercest of storms. Despite the growing rush of curiosity and the ache within him to reach the center of the mystery, the connection to his wife kept him within the walls of the town. The forest could wait until morning, until he talked to her and explained everything that had happened and everything he planned to do.
He rushed to the Borderline Inn. He found Linda sitting alone at a table in the corner just staring at an empty glass. He believed she had been waiting for him. It was certainly late, and the evening must have been tiring for her.
"Sorry that took so long," he offered as he moved quickly to her side. "I have a lot to tell you. Do you want to stay here for a while and talk, or head for home?"
At first, his wife did not even acknowledge him. When she finally looked up, she did so with a distant expression. Her eyes would not fix upon his. Instead, she glanced about the corners of the inn as if unwilling to focus on one spot.
"So you finally decided to show up?" she asked.
Her tone was mostly emotionless, but it seemed to hold the slight edge of annoyance, and the delver became immediately defensive.
"It wasn't my fault. Sy wanted to talk. That's one of the things…"
Linda didn't let him finish.
"It's never your fault," she responded. "Even when it is."
It was not any angry accusation or an emotional outburst. She made the statement with cold indifference.
Ryson was more surprised than upset at the assertion.
"My fault?"
"Yes, your fault." She didn't shout, didn't even slightly raise her voice. She spoke in more of a low grumble. "You were gone, called away… again. I didn't know how long you would be. I'm stuck in here wondering what I should do, and you're out running around in the rain."
"I'm not sure I understand. I know it's late, but…"
"I don't want to hear the excuse. There's always one excuse or another. You left me here… alone… for too long."
"I didn't leave you alone. The place was full."
"Is it full now?"
Ryson looked around. Some of the tables and a few seats at the bar were occupied, but most were empty.
"No, but you're hardly alone."
"Do you see anyone at this table with me?"
"No, but I'm here now."
"And that's what I'm talking about. I had to wait for you… alone."
Ryson's confusion increased.
"I'm still not sure what you're mad about."
"Who said I was mad?"
"You seem mad," Ryson replied.
Linda just let out a heavy, disgusted breath and looked down at the table.
Ryson stood beside her at a loss for words. They weren't drawing any attention. It wasn't as if they were shouting at each other. It would appear to anyone that looked in their direction that they were having a normal conversation. He just didn't understand it. He wondered if he should continue standing or sit down next to her. He also wondered if she even wanted to hear what he had to say.
"Alright, I left you alone for too long," he allowed as he finally sat down. He wasn't simply humoring her. He was acknowledging that he could have met up with her before he talked to Sy. He could have even checked on her before he went to deal with the goblins. He was a delver and his speed allowed for choices others might not have. Perhaps that was all she wanted, a sign that he was concerned about her, and maybe he had not shown enough of that concern. Still, there was more to say and more she needed to know.
"Do you want to hear what happened?" he wondered aloud.
"I don't know, do I?"
Ryson wasn't sure how to answer her question. He didn't have great news. Much of what had happened was rather discouraging. A corporal's carelessness led to an avoidable injury, goblins had broken through the town's defenses, innocent civilians were killed, elves were reported as missing, and Sy had basically dismissed him from any official duty; certainly a long list of unpleasantries, but he had to tell her what happened.
"Well, it's important," he finally offered. "While I was searching for the rogues, there was a goblin raid to the south. They got through the gate."
Linda replied quickly through a sarcastic chuckle.
"Rogues and goblins? You're out there running around with rogues and goblins. I'm in here with no idea what's happening and you're wondering why I'm upset. You could have been killed, and I would have never known it."
Her reply was totally unexpected. They often discussed the dangers he faced, but she had accepted it in the past, at least she said she had. He was a delver. He explored the land, and since the magic returned, the land was filled with new perils. She had told him she would never get used to it, but she claimed she understood it would always be part of their lives.
What made the quarrel all the more baffling was that the dangers he faced that evening were relatively minor; a goblin raid and a handful or rogues hardly compared to some of the hazards he faced in the past. He also never left Burbon that night. It wasn't as if he was exploring the Colad Mountains to the north or any of the hills throughout Uton that he loved so much. The battle he faced that night all fell upon the streets of their home and he decided to point out as much.
"It's not like you had no idea what was going on. I never went outside the walls tonight."
"You might as well have gone all the way to the coast for all that it mattered to me. I was still stuck in here and I had no idea what was happening to you. What difference does it make if you stayed inside the walls or not?"
Ryson looked at his wife wondering if she was suddenly just joking with him, but he knew asking that question would be a monumental mistake. While she continued to maintain a calm voice and demeanor, she certainly appeared serious. Whatever was bothering her was no joke.
"There's a big difference," Ryson countered. "Everything was happening right here. The towers were signaling everything. I taught you how to read the signals, you had to know I took care of the rogues. It was signaled across town."
"I can't spend my time reading tower signals. I have other things to do."
"Alright, you were busy with people here. I understand that, but some of the people in the tavern had to watch for the signals, every one is supposed to remain informed to the alert. A lot of people know how to read the signs. People like to know what's happening. I'm sure it was called out."