I met King Etri at McAnally’s.
Mac had cleared the pub out for us and put a table in the middle of the floor with some room around it. Bear sidled up to the bar and nodded to Etri’s single bodyguard, a small man in a neat suit who all but vibrated with energy and certainly wasn’t human. He bought her the first round. Mac bustled about quietly. He even brought a pair of bottles to our table, so he clearly thought the meeting was an important one.
Etri was wearing his human disguise, svartalf magic making him appear to be a man of less than average height, late forties, with swept-back dark hair, a silvering beard, and piercing black eyes.
“Sir Knight,” he said quietly.
“Your Majesty,” I responded, and inclined my head briefly. In feudal terms, Etri was a head of state, and I was something like a neighboring landholding knight. He had extended goodwill to meet with me. I took up my bottle, and he his. We clinked and sipped.
Etri closed his eyes for a moment and then turned and lifted the bottle toward Mac. The svartalves respected nothing so much as beautiful craftsmanship, and Mac’s brew was unparalleled.
“You wish to negotiate on behalf of Thomas Raith,” Etri said.
“That is correct,” I said.
Etri nodded. Svartalves have some of the best poker faces around. I got nothing from his face. “Why would you do this?”
“Politics,” I half lied. “My new fiancée wishes to protect her brother.”
“Mmmm,” Etri said. “Understandable. But the matter is clear. Thomas Raith was a trusted guest in my home. He attacked and injured my people. He attempted to murder me. He took the life of a trusted subordinate and friend.” Etri shook his head. “This is a violation of theoldest traditions upon the face of this world, treachery, murder, and an insult to both myself and the svartalf kingdom. I cannot be tolerant of this act.”
“Let us speak clearly,” I said.
Etri nodded his firm approval. “Thomas Raith will answer for the life he took with his own.”
“A life for a life,” I said.
“Precisely. That is the old way.”
I nodded slowly. “There may be mitigating factors.”
“Explain.”
“There is a spirit I will not name,” I said. “A being that works toward chaos and conflict. One who can possess almost anyone and cause them to act against their will.”
“No,” Etri said calmly. “I know the being of which you speak. Our security measures would have detected any such invasive spirit the moment it crossed our threshold—even that one. You cannot excuse his actions thus.”
“Not Raith,” I said. “It took his woman and demanded he act or forfeit her life and the life of her unborn child.”
Etri leaned back in his seat at that, his expression perhaps, barely, troubled. “Meaning no disrespect, that could be an easily arranged ploy.”
“It could be,” I said. “It isn’t.”
“I have no way of knowing that.”
I nodded and took a sip of my own beer. “This could be a matter where consciously applied faith might help resolve many difficulties.”
“I have given my faith already and paid for it with my friend’s life,” Etri said, his voice made of cold, cold iron. “We are beyond that.”
I nodded slowly. “What if I provided you proof?” I asked.
Etri took a slow drink of his ale, studying me. “In that event,” he said, “then the onus of my wrath belongs to a different being.”
“And Thomas would be free of reprisal?”
“No,” Etri said with slow, granite intonation. “Though he may have been compelled, that does not change the consequence of his actions.Nor will I permit my nation to be seen as weak.” He turned one hand palm up. “However. There might be more latitude as to the nature of the reprisal.”
I exhaled slowly. “If it comes to it,” I said, “I will fight for him. Winter will be with me. As will Lara Raith.”
