May the people once more reign over themselves.
I stood at my cousin’s side, stunned.
Le’ral placed the scroll on the table and raised his gaze from the demands to stare at Teryn. “Speak to me, Mahouk. Is this Gray Ice your people?”
“I have heard rumors of underground bands of insurgents coming together to protest the negotiations we are currently engaged in,” he calmly stated, the twinkle of an early sunbeam off the tiny gold charms hanging from his drop earring. The small shapes dusted his shoulder as he spoke. The king did not turn his attention from the sky to us. Whether he was hearing our words or not, I dared not guess. “There are many people on our islands who make their living from the sea. They are scared they will lose their rights to fish and hunt the waters once the mainlanders take hold of the ports. No matter how Vahasi Khorsiri and I have explained our plans to the people, many refuse to accept that cooperation amongst our peoples is for the best. They seek to remain isolated, some even calling for banning those of pale or green skin from entering our lands. A few of the religious zealots are screaming for a law from thevahasi to call back all envoys immediately.” He glanced around the table. “As you can see, neither Vahasi Mirza Khorsiri nor I am swayed by the howling brays of bigots, for here I sit. I cannot say that I have heard of this group by name though.”
That seemed to say a great deal about the vahasi and the ambassador. “Sadly,” Aelir interjected, moving from his spot at the open doors to face us. “That sentiment is not only Sandrayan. Many, many elves here on the mainland dislike their brothers and sisters merely for the tone of their skin. It has been a problem for centuries, and even though we have made small steps forward that have garnered some mild acceptance of the wood elves and their druidic magicks, we have a long way to go, it seems.”
One of the guards, a short woman with bright brown eyes, stepped up, her demeanor downcast. “Your Graces, I have heard of the Gray Ice.”
All those present stared at the woman. She swallowed. “Only in passing at the Muted Swan on one or two occasions. Rowdy elves, you understand…” Her sight swung to me. I’d never hidden my roots. Many here knew I had been dirt poor as a child. I found no shame in being raised on the back streets of Renedith. “The Swan is known for certain sorts.”
The king looked at me in confusion. “The Muted Swan is a noted pub in the western parts of the city,” I clarified.
“Ah, the tenements.” Aelir sighed, returning to his seat to flop down as if his legs could no longer hold him upright. “Yes, there are many unhappy souls in the western region. I am doing my best to improve their lots, but it is slow work. Are they truly that angry as to take my children and threaten them with harm?”
The guard looked at me in fear, so I spoke in her stead.
“There are many unhappy elves across the lands, my liege, and many happy ones. The Muted Swan has been a hotbed fordiscontent for as long as I can recall. I suspect, and this is just from my knowledge of the alehouse and those who live in the western skids, that this Gray Ice may be comprised of many sorts. Wood elf, Sandrayan, and mainland, drawn together in a mutual hatred of the crown that outweighs their dislike for each other.”
My father had been one and had spent many a night in a pub, drunk, shouting at the injustices of the poor elf while doing nothing to help his own family out of the rough areas of the city. If not for my mother and aunt working for a noblewoman, we would have gone hungry more often than not.
Aelir seemed beaten down. He lowered his head to his hands, gold hair blanketing forward to shield him from us, or perhaps the ugly truth of life in the capital. The two lower guards were dismissed by Le’ral with a wave of his hand.
Teryn slid into the cloud of anguish in a soft, comforting tone. “King Aelir, I suspect that what Pasil says is true. These types of elves come together in the fetid stink of the underbelly of great cities. Our own capital of Padana has the same maladies. I have worked with the poor to help them with their woes, my son and daughter as well, but some cannot let go of their hate even when peace flutters before them.”
Aelir lifted his head. His sight found mine. “I forget that you and my beloved V’alor clawed your way up into such high positions at times. Forgive my forgetfulness. It speaks well of you as an elf and a citizen of Melowynn.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I lowered my head at the kind words. Given what knowledge the man now had of where and how I had spent the previous night, his graciousness was heartfelt. My lust for Teryn could very well upset many well-laid plans if it were common knowledge.
“Le’ral, can you reach out to the secretarial couriers from your old position? Perhaps have them survey the back alleys ofthe western skids to pick up any information on the Gray Ice?” Aelir enquired, his fingers tapping on the table. Teryn did not even so much as blink when that query hit the warm morning air. Surely the ambassador already knew that Le’ral Fylson had been and possibly still was more than a royal secretary, lover of a king, and now a guiding hand of a new monarch. Nothing was ever said aloud, but every court needed an intelligence emissary. Surely his vahasi had his man of secrets. Every ruling kingdom did. The mice that scurry along the baseboards overhear much, as the saying goes.
“Already taken care of,” Fylson said, leaning back in his seat as he studied me intently. “I think we need to move quickly to stomp this out and get the children back.” Aelir appeared ready to speak but fell into silence. “My king, I know you are sorely tempted to hand over the holy items. I understand fully the love a father has for his children, but we cannot negotiate with anarchists. We must somehow nip this plot at the root. I have no knowledge of where this Black Fen basalt pillar is. Teryn, is it in your lands?”
“It is. The smallest isle north. Cold black cliffs formed from the lava that formed the islands centuries ago. The goddess is rumored to call them her home, and a small temple to her can be found notched into the sea cliffs, rumor has it. I have no knowledge of any sect that is recognized by our holy ones, but I can certainly investigate it.”
Aelir nodded sadly as if the motion cost him all. My heart bled for the man.
“I know what you say is true, Le’ral, and I would not hand over the crown and scepter to a band of revolutionaries.” His tone was strong now. His attention was darting from me to Teryn. “I would ask that you venture forth as requested. Perhaps we can fool the Gray Ice.”
“If I may be so bold, Your Majesty, might I request that Pasil accompany me on this mission?” Teryn asked, rocking me back mentally.Me?Why would he request me? He had his own guards. “The fabled bronze warrior is known far and wide. His sword arm could prove invaluable as we set forth. Pirates are known to sail the Galesdi Gulf.” Teryn glanced at me. “Few would dare to instigate a battle with the slayer of yeti. Since my retinue, children, and security members are to remain here to be interrogated, as a show of good faith, it would be me and Porgo alone without a defender.”
Oh. What? When had it been decided that Teryn’s people would stay here? Surely they would travel home as soon as the questioning was concluded. Unless the grand advisor and the king felt that the Sandrayans were involved more deeply than an ancient temple on a cliffside island. Diplomacy was a delicate dance that I did not know the steps to. My saltarello involved a sharp blade, a sturdy shield, and a warrior’s roar. It seemed much had been discussed during the mahouk’s interview. My mouth opened to counter the yeti claim yet again when the king spoke up, effectively silencing me before I could refute the wild tale. Again.
“Yes, of course. I’m sure Pasil would be more than willing to defend you on such a perilous journey. His valor is well known, and he knows how deeply the royal family loves our twins.” Aelir looked at me, an odd look on his face, before glancing back at Teryn. “A wise call, Mahouk.”
Was it? I would stand out among my darker cousins like a peacock amid a flock of ducks.
Teryn I could see as he is a negotiator, skilled at handling fractious sides to arrive, hopefully, at a peaceful concord. This, though, was no mediation of courtly envoys or skilled mediators. This was an abduction of innocent children to force a king into capitulation.
The king sat waiting. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty. I live to serve.” I lowered my head in deference and then looked up to find the king nodding.
Aelir turned his attention to the mahouk. “Teryn, you know the Black Sand Isles better than anyone. The people there love and trust you. We can put out a decree that you are returning home of a sudden in case you are spotted. The reason you are being sent home can be vague. Pasil, you are the captain of the guard. I can think of no other man who I would trust to bring my children back to me other than V’alor, but he is too close to this. His rational mind will be fogged, as mine is, with unbidden hatred. Your presence will be a buoy to the mahouk if the kidnappers can be reasoned with. If not, then your sword arm will be required to strike the bastards down. You both are already well familiar with each other.”
Yes, we were that. Intimately familiar with each other, as it were.
“We could send out a royal ship as a decoy,” Le’ral opined as he stroked his chin in thought. “Let it sail out immediately with only a small crew and a few unarmed guards. Let the people see this ship setting out after being loaded at the docks, stirring up speculation and whispers. Rumors will reach certain ears…”
