The Elves of Cintra (16 page)

Angel, with Ailie beside her, walked forward. She had bathed and changed into clean clothes, her own so badly soiled and torn that the Elves had simply thrown them away. She found she liked the Elven clothing, which was soft and loose fitting and gave her a freedom of movement that she found reassuring. Her wounds, cleaned and bound with bandages and treated with Elven medicines, did not hurt as much as before. She felt oddly new, standing there; she felt a kind of physical reemergence.

She took a deep breath as she faced the King and the members of the Council. She was still trying hard not to stare—at their Elven ears and brows and narrow-featured faces. She was trying hard to pretend that they were simply humans of a different sort. But she could not ignore what Ailie had told her of their history, a history that could be traced back to a time before humans even existed and in which magic and mythical creatures were real and alive.

Nor could she forget Ailie’s warning to her earlier this evening about what she could expect would happen.

Remember that you will appear less strange to them than they do to you,
the tatterdemalion had told her while they were still alone.
They have studied you in your world while you have been shut out of theirs. They dislike and mistrust humans. They believe that humans stole their world from them and then ruined it. Your status as a Knight of the Word will not make them forget entirely the nature of your origins. They will use your uncertainty about them against you. They will try to keep you on the defensive. Be aware of their intentions.

She was, but she was also uncertain about how to deal with them. At least she could understand their language. Ailie had told her that she would be able to do so because of the magic bequeathed to her by the Word through her staff, and so far the tatterdemalion had been right.

“You may present yourselves to the members of the High Council,” the King ordered.

She had given their names already to both Simralin and Maurin Ortish, so Arissen Belloruus could have presented them himself. But he was after something more. He wanted them to understand clearly that he expected them to do what they were told. He wanted to make certain that they understood he would not tolerate any form of resistance to his commands.

He was testing them as he tested everyone.

Fair enough, she decided. She would do whatever was needed.

“I am Angel Perez,” she replied, straightening slightly, her dark eyes locking on the King’s. “I am a Knight of the Word. My companion is a tatterdemalion. She is called Ailie.”

The King leaned back comfortably in his chair, not inviting them to sit. “We have allowed you to come into our city despite the rules that forbid it,” he declared. “You know this from hearing my comments to Simralin. We have allowed this because of who you are and because we are led to believe that your coming to Arborlon is of great importance. Now is the time for you to reassure us that this is so.”

The King was a big, strong man with handsome features and a smooth, commanding voice. He used that voice and size both to intimidate and to reassure. Angel had seen how effective he could be when he had dressed down Simralin. He would attempt to do the same thing with her. But she was a child of the streets and a survivor of far worse than anything the King had encountered. She would be stronger than he was.

“We have been sent to you by the Word,” she said, addressing her remarks not to the King, but to the Council. “That is our first and most important reassurance.”

“The Word did not speak to us of this,” the King declared quickly.

“The Word does not speak to us at all,” added another man. He was stooped and hawk-faced, and he did not smile.

“Perhaps not directly and not in the way you would expect,” Angel replied. “Nevertheless, the Word watches over you and cares for you. That is why we have been sent as messengers. The Elves are in great danger. The world outside the Cintra is changing. The demons and their followers are winning the war against the human race and seek to destroy it. Worse, they would destroy the world itself. It is necessary for you to protect yourselves if you are to survive. To do this, you must leave the Cintra and go to a safer place, one where the destruction elsewhere will not impact the future of your race.”

“Leave the Cintra?” the Council member who had spoken before interjected in disbelief. “On the basis of what you are telling us and nothing more? That is ridiculous!”

“Enough, Basselin!” Arissen Belloruus cut off anything else the man might have wanted to say. He turned back to Angel. “You will understand, lady Knight of the Word, if we are hesitant to believe this. Humans are the ones who have destroyed the world, acting foolishly and recklessly at every opportunity. Demons have prodded such actions, but humans have carried them out. We have stayed safe by staying where we are. Now you tell us we are to leave? Are you going to tell us where it is we are expected to go?”

“We do not know that,” Angel answered.

Arissen Belloruus looked at her as he might look at a difficult child. “Very well. You have delivered your message and fulfilled your purpose in coming to us. We will discuss the matter and make our decision. You are free to go.”

Angel shook her head. “There is more. In order for you to leave the Cintra, you will need the use of an Elfstone called a Loden. We are sent to help you find that Elfstone.”

There was stunned silence. No one seemed willing to say anything, even the King, whose expression suggested that he was deciding if he wanted this discussion to go further. “We have no Loden Elfstone,” he said finally. Then, as if realizing he was simply reaffirming what Angel had already said, he added, “No Elfstones of any kind. They have all been lost for centuries. There is no way of knowing what happened to them.”

“Perhaps there is,” Ailie said suddenly, her small voice surprisingly strong in the large chamber. “Perhaps one among you already knows a way.”

She might be guessing or she might know something that she had not told Angel. But the look on the King’s face, at once dark and angry and startled, was a clear indication that one or the other was true. He knew more than he was giving away to anyone in this room, and now everyone realized it.

“Historically,” said another of the Council members, an older man who spoke not to the King, but to Angel, “the Loden Elfstone was meant to protect the Ellcrys in time of danger. The legend, as recorded in my own family’s journals, says the Loden possesses magic that will allow it to encapsulate the tree and keep it safe while it is being moved.”

Now everyone was looking at the King. “Old tales of an older time,” Arissen Belloruus declared dismissively. “We cannot rely on such tales, Ordanna Frae. You, of all people, should know that.”

“What I know,” said the other, turning slightly toward him, “is that the tales have more than one source. We should not dismiss out of hand the possibility that they reveal an important truth. Much of our lore comes to us in the form of old stories and legends written down in private letters. These are not necessarily the writer’s invention alone.”

“Nevertheless, it would be foolish and reckless to act on what these messengers tell us without further proof,” interjected Basselin, leaning forward suddenly in his seat. “We have no way of testing the truth of their stories. They may believe what they are saying, but they may also be hiding something from us.”

There was a muttering of agreement from a few of the other Council members, and the King pointed suddenly at Angel. “You say you are here to help us find the Loden Elfstone. How do you propose to do that? Do you know something of its location? Does the Word give you insights that we lack?”

Angel hesitated, and it was Ailie who answered. “The insights you require are to be found among your own people, High Lord. They are to be found among the Chosen.”

Arissen Belloruus flushed a dark red, and for a moment Angel thought that Ailie had gone too far. Again, this was nothing the tatterdemalion had spoken about to her before, so she wasn’t sure why her words were so disturbing to the King, but clearly they were.

“The young boy you sent away,” Ailie continued. “Kirisin. He knows.”

Now the Council members were all turning toward the King, their muttered questions and exclamations tumbling over one another as they sought to make sense of what they were hearing. It wasn’t the tatterdemalion’s words that caused this response, Angel realized. The words, while startling, would not of themselves provoke. It was instead something in the way they were spoken, something in Ailie’s voice, that had broken through the wall of reticence that held the High Council in thrall to the King and set them free to question him.

“Be silent!” Arissen Belloruus roared suddenly, leaping to his feet. The members of the Council went still, and the King came forward a few steps on the dais toward Angel and Ailie, a menacing look on his strong features. “Kirisin Belloruus, the son of my cousin and his wife, the brother of Simralin, is a well-loved boy, a friend of my daughter, and a Chosen in service to the Ellcrys. He has indeed spoken to me of this, something I chose not to bring before the Council.”

He paused for effect. “And for good reason. He
believes
he knows something, but he cannot offer any proof to support his belief. He came to me with a story similar to the one you tell, messengers of the Word. He told me that the Ellcrys had asked him to find the Loden Elfstone and to place the tree within it. An old magic, apparently. Magic long since lost to us. But no one else heard this admonition. More to the point, the Ellcrys does not speak to anyone except in the time of her choosing. Kirisin could not explain why she had done so now. He was certain he had heard correctly, but he had nothing to offer in the way of proof. I did not believe him, nor did any of the other Chosen.”

His jaw tightened. “But I am King, and I know my duty. I told him that acting on his word alone, without other proof, was insufficient to persuade the High Council to his cause. I told him I would research the matter. Culph, who has served as our historian for years, was dispatched in an effort to find in the Elven histories the answers to the questions Kirisin posed. He found nothing. There was barely any mention of the Elfstones. All that is magic, all the talismans that were once so vital to our people, belong to the past. We know this. No one who has lived in the last two thousand years has seen an Elfstone. Or if they have, they have kept it to themselves because there is nothing of consequence written about any of it. What we have are private journals of the sort kept by our minister of public works.” He nodded toward Ordanna Frae. “Some of those entries are an accurate recording and some are not. Some are simply wishful thinking. What helps us determine which is which is whether or not there is confirmation of these entries anywhere in our official histories.”

Again he paused. “In this case, there is none.”

“My Lord,” Basselin interrupted quickly. “May I speak?”

The King nodded. “You may, First Minister.”

“I think we have heard quite enough,” said the hawk-faced man. “Enough of speculation and wild imaginings. This business of a danger to the Ellcrys and the Elven nation appears to be based entirely on two sources—a boy barely old enough to know his place in our community and this human and her companion. The boy…well, he is just a boy. The young woman and her child companion are unknown to us. There is no hard evidence to confirm what any of them are telling us. We are being asked to change our entire way of life—to move from the Cintra, to uproot the Ellcrys, and to do who knows what else. Mostly on the word of this young woman. On the word of a human. A
human,
my lord. When humans have been the cause of so much misery and destruction, I find it difficult to suddenly decide that perhaps this time they have something valuable to offer. I am skeptical of everything I have heard. I am opposed to acting on it.”

He sat back again, his features flushed and angry. “We should all be opposed,” he added, his eyes fixed on Angel.

The King nodded. “I am inclined to agree with my first minister,” he said quietly.

“So you will do nothing?” Angel pressed.

The King glared at her, and then turned around, walked back to his chair, and sat down. He gestured at her in exasperation. “My first minister makes a cogent point. Am I to accept without evidence of any sort that you speak the truth? That you are not yourselves deceived in some way? That the danger you describe actually exists? I did not accept it when Kirisin told me. Now that you have come to Arborlon, I grant that there is fresh reason to wonder if he might be right. But what are we to do about it? We still have no means of finding the Loden Elfstone.”

“Perhaps a further search of your histories is needed,” Angel offered. “Perhaps speaking with Kirisin again will help. What cannot be disputed is that the danger confronting the Elven people will not be avoided by ignoring that it exists. Something must be done, High Lord.”

“It is not necessary, lady Knight of the Word, that you tell me my duty as King of the Elven people. I know it far better than you do. I will do what is needed, when it is needed.”

He stared at her to make certain she understood, then added, “I will arrange for a further, more extensive search of the Elven histories and any other journals or papers that are in my possession. If any members of my Council are in a position to help, perhaps through a search of their own records, they are welcome to do so. We will reconvene in two days to examine what we have uncovered.”

“High Lord,” Angel said quickly. “I would like to speak with Kirisin myself. If we compare what we know, perhaps between us we will unearth something useful.”

The King hesitated, his eyes reflecting his disapproval, and then he shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “Very well. I will arrange it.”

Some of the arrogance that had been so apparent earlier was gone, and the King seemed both troubled and uncertain. Angel understood something about the need to establish ground rules if you were a leader. She understood what it did to you, how it fostered both arrogance and abrasiveness if you were not careful. She did not condemn him for his attitude; she merely wanted to understand what was driving it, and she believed it was something more than his position as King of the Elves.