A’bbni nodded at that. “That would be most appreciated, Lord Kella. I continue to be eternally grateful for your assistance.”
Kella gave him a warm smile. “Of course, Your Highness. It is my pleasure to help. As I said before, I cannot make up for the deeds of my ancestors, but I will do what I can now.”
“I understand,” A’bbni replied. “Please do not concern yourself with me. You have been a very gracious friend.”
Kella nodded and gave A’bbni’s hand a squeeze. “It will come together soon, Your Reverence. You’ll see.”
A’bbni felt his heart race as he walked down the windowless hallway. He wondered if he had made a foolish decision to meet with the Council without his brother, but what choice did he have? Until he knew where Shi’chen was, his only options were to continue to hide at Lord Kella’s house or find out more about the rebellion and the plan to overthrow En’shea.
The young goblin man that met him at the building’s entrance led him around a corner and over to a pair of elaborate carved rosewood doors, emblazoned with a scene depicting one of the goblin legends of Tai-mith’en, who rode into battle on a horse gifted to him by the gods that caused himself and the horse to grow until they crushed the invaders underfoot with every gallop. The image had once been accented with gilt leaf, but most of it was worn away now.
Two goblin soldiers stood on either side of the exterior of the double-doors, not in full armor, but wearing leather chest plates and holding spears. They pushed open the doors as the young man and A’bbni stopped in front of it. He ducked his head as he walked past them, his heart rate speeding up a little. The young goblin led him into a large interior room that was brightly lit from many gas lamps on the walls and a large chandelier of colored glass overhead that strategically illuminated the room, but this room also had no windows. It did have a very large fireplace on one side that crackled softly with a roaring fire that warmed the space. There was a large, rectangular table in the center of the room, with three chairs on one side and one on the other.
Occupying the three chairs that faced him now were three goblins. There was an elderly man with long, white whisps of hair, an enormously fat middle-aged man with a long, braided black beard and thick moustache, and a woman who looked to be about Kella’s age, her skin goblin-dark but her hair dyed a sunny blond. All three rose from their seats as he entered.
His guide gave them all a hasty bow and backed out of the room. The double doors closed firmly behind him, leaving A’bbni alone in the room with the three elders. “Your Reverence,” the oldest goblin said, bowing his head at him, but noticeably, not his waist or his knee.
A’bbni took a deep breath and squared his shoulders as he lowered his hood and pushed his cloak back from his shoulders. The man gestured to the vacant chair. “Please, sit.”
“We would have your names first,” A’bbni said in Hanen-vir, keeping his voice pleasant. Until he knew more about the situation, he was going to maintain his noble bearing and exude a confidence he did not feel.
The older man gave him a smile that did not reach his yellow eyes. “I am Ba’shea Ii-Heshar.”
A’bbni felt his stomach clench as he immediately recognized the name. The suffix, Ii-, indicated he was not nobility, but that he or his family had risen to a place of importance, whether through study, trade, or other success. He remembered from his studies that the Ii-Heshar family had been the largest slave traders on the continent when slavery had been abolished almost sixty years ago by their grandmother, the Empress Chiia’jen. If his memory was correct, Ba’shea had been the youngest son of the Ii-Heshar household at the time, probably in his early teens when their slaves had been compensated and freed, judging by his age now. “Your Prominence,” he greeted, forcing his voice to remain neutral.
Ba’shea motioned to the bearded goblin next to him. “Jin’fen An-Gea’la.” The large man nodded his head. “And Mii’ra An-Sha’kri.” The blond woman bowed, a little deeper than the other two had. Both Jin’fen and Mii’ra had the suffix An-, indicating they were descended from nobility. The An-Gea’las were well known at court; the position of Minister of Trade was held by Gia’den An-Gea’la, Jin’fen being his nephew. And the An-Sha’kri family had married into the Er-Ha’sen line more than ten generations ago.
“Your Eminences,” A’bbni greeted Jin’fen and Mii’ra. These were not insubstantial members of goblin aristocracy, he realized, the nervousness in his stomach intensifying. It also explained how the Council knew about the inner workings of the palace; they had close family members high in the court.
“Now, please be seated,” Ba’shea said.
A’bbni took his time removing his cloak and draping it over the back of his chair before sitting down. Once he was seated, and the three Council members as well, Mii’ra said, in a voice that was sticky sweet, “We are honored to have you with us, Your Highness.”
“Do we have you to thank for our escape?” A’bbni asked.
Jin’fen’s mouth curved into a smile beneath his thick moustache. “Indeed, Your Highness. It had been planned for some time, you see, but the need had not arisen until the sudden death of your Father, may he rest in the tranquility of the gods.”
A’bbni bowed his head automatically at the blessing. “We would not be alive today if it were not for your help. We are most grateful.”
“We thank the gods you arrived safely, and we hope that your brother will also reach us soon,” Mii’ra said with a warm smile, using the plural ‘we’ in Hanen-sha, not Hanen-vir. A’bbni noticed that they were almost exclusively using Hanen-sha. He wondered if that was deliberate on their part, to make it seem like he was the one in control.
“We would wish to hear your plans and how we may help,” A’bbni replied.
The three Council members looked uneasily at each other. Ba’shea broke the silence with a soft cough. “Unfortunately, our plans have had to change with the assassination of the Regent and other prominent leaders. The details are yet to be fully worked out.”
“Then we shall be happy to assist in working those details out with you,” A’bbni said pleasantly.
“No, Your Highness,” Jin’fen said, shaking his head. “You do not need to concern yourself with such matters.”
“If it concerns us or our people, we do,” A’bbni replied, his voice just a little firmer.
“Your Highness, while we appreciate your willingness to help, this is a matter of state,” Mii’ra said.
“Yes. And we are the heirs apparent to the throne,” A’bbni said, the pleasant smile still on his face. “Therefore, it concerns us.”
Ba’shea gave him a tight smile that did not reach his glittering, yellow eyes. Something about them made A’bbni’s stomach turn sour, and he had to take a long breath in and out for the feeling to dissipate. “Your Reverence, the best thing you can do right now is let us make arrangements on your behalf.”
“Perhaps you did not understand us,” A’bbni said, determined to keep his tone pleasant. “We wish to know what is expected of us, or we will not be a part of it.”
