THE CHOOSING

by PhyllisAnn Welsh

  The crowd murmured their agreement; it was a great concern that the Sea Elves would simply kill them if the Night Elves put away their weapons.

  “Your majesty, may I speak?”

  Feenix looked over the balcony and saw J’Laris, the one-armed slave and Lord of the ruling House of Hiloris, step forward. He was immediately stopped by the guards around the slaves, and many of the nobles protested that a slave would dare speak up in an assembly.

  The king motioned for the guards to bring the Sea Elf to the balcony. J’Laris’ fetters and collar had been removed Atop, and somewhere he had picked up a clean set of clothing. For a former slave, Feenix thought he looked impressive.

  “As your majesty knows,” J’Laris said, loud enough for the assembled hall to hear, “I can speak for my people. I stand before you and the entire people of Cragimore to vow and pledge my word to you, that the Sea Elves will honor Mac Lir’s plan, and will not raise a hand in the future against their kin the Night Elves, unless sorely provoked.”

  “What right does this slave have to make such a pledge, L’Garn?”

  From the nods of agreement around the Great Hall, it appeared as if Worseld asked the question in most Night Elves’ minds.

  “This is J’Laris Hiloris. He is the Lord of the House of Hiloris, which is the ruling house of Shalridoor. He is the equivalent to the king of the Sea Elves.”

  L’Garn turned to J’Laris and took his hand in a firm grip.

  “I, King L’Garn of the House of Meedrion, do pledge my word to you, Lord Hiloris, that the Night Elves will not raise a hand against their kin, the Sea Elves, unless sorely provoked,” he said with a grin. “For all time, and through eternity.”

  The two elves gravely shook hands, then sealed the bargain with a brief embrace. A cheer went up from the gathered elves in the cavern. And if the cheer wasn’t as loud and enthusiastic as Feenix would have liked, at least there wasn’t bloodshed in the Hall.

  L’Garn allowed the cheers to continue for a few moments before raising his hands again for silence.

  “There are many things that must be done. Zimpher sent a company of our warriors to attack Shalridoor. Through the use of a Communion Spell, the Sea Elves have been warned of the impending danger. It is hoped that the attack was not successful, and that our people were not badly hurt. A runner has been sent to notify Captain Theombert of Zimpher’s death. The runner carries my orders to cease all hostilities immediately.

  “In the meantime,” L’Garn continued, obviously settling into his new role with confidence and wisdom, “there are a few things here in Cragimore that need to be clarified.”

  He looked over to Feenix, and gave her a reassuring smile.

  “I would like to present Captain Feenix of Port Marcus to you.” He motioned for her to join him at the railing. She would have given much to sink into the floor and disappear forever.

  “Captain Feenix is Mac Lir’s mediator in these difficult peace negations. You will be seeing a lot of her in the future, and I expect that she be afforded all respect and consideration.”

  Feenix could feel the blood rushing to her face, and for once was grateful for the dimness of the lighting that prevented everyone from seeing her blush. She supposed she should be grateful he didn’t announce to the world that he intended to make her his mate. But then, of course he wouldn’t, she realized. He now knew he needed a pure-blooded elf to be his queen.

  She acknowledged L’Garn’s words with a curt bow and then stepped back from the railing, but did not return to her previous position in the back.

  “Next,” he continued as Feenix tried to gather her wits and resolve about her, “I name as my heir to the Throne of Meedrion, Balrin, Sarnett’s son.”

  L’Garn motioned for a youth to step forward from the elves that were on the balcony. Feenix has assumed they were family members, and now her guess had been proved correct. The youth came forward, and his father, the elderly retainer from Atop, approached with him.

  “Balrin is my second cousin on my grandmother Queen Kindara’s side. While not of the House of Meedrion, Balrin can trace his ancestry back to King R’Talg. He is my closest male blood relative.”

  King L’Garn embraced the youth. Cheers, louder than the previous ones, greeted this announcement. It seemed the Night Elves were more amenable to Balrin’s claim to the throne, than L’Garn’s.

  When L’Garn turned to the crowd again, Feenix had the impression that something was not quite the same with him. He looked like a man determined to complete some distasteful task, regardless of the consequences. An uneasy feeling settled around her. By Mac Lir’s beard, she wasn’t going to like what was coming, but she couldn’t understand why she had that thought.

  “My human blood has never been a secret to anyone here. While officially the royal prince and heir to the throne, I have never wanted such a heavy responsibility.”

  Feenix’s feeling of unease grew. What was he talking about?

  “And in truth, Zimpher did not want me to succeed him to the throne. While my duty and loyalty is to Cragimore and the Night Elves, my heart is no longer here. I have a desire to learn about my human heritage, and have asked Captain Feenix to share her life and knowledge with me.”

  By the god’s left toe, what was this stupid half-elf doing?

  “Effective immediately, I abdicate the Throne of Meedrion in favor of Balrin. I appoint as co-regent, until King Balrin reaches his adulthood, myself and his father, Sarnett of the House of B’Kent.”

  Complete pandemonium broke out. Feenix felt like hitting the half-elf over the head with a club, and crying at the same time. He didn’t know what he was saying! That energy bolt from Zimpher must have addled his wits! She had to do something!

  “L’Garn,” she said, rushing to his side. “You can’t do this! You don’t know what you’re saying! Why would you throw your birthright away?”

  “Feenix, we will discuss this later.”

  He dismissed her with those few words, than turned back to the crowd below. The guards were trying to restore some order in the Hall.

  “No, you don’t know what you’re doing, and I’m not going to stand by and let you throw your life away just because you said something to me without thinking!”

  L’Garn stepped away from the railing and moved Feenix into the shadows.

  “We will discuss this in my quarters, later. Right now, I have a near riot on my hands, and it is not the time to be arguing over this. Go to my quarters and wait for me there.”

  “What did you just say to me?” She couldn’t believe her ears. Had he actually ordered her to leave?

  “I said, go to my quarters. I will join you shortly.”

  As he turned to go back to the railing, she grabbed his arm and spun him around to face her. Immediately, two guards were at her sides, ready to obey any command L’Garn might give them.

  “Don’t you give me an order and then walk away like that, half-elf!” Her voice carried throughout the balcony, and everyone was watching what the king would do.

  “Do not push me on this, Feenix.” The steely determination in his voice should have warned her, but she was past hearing it. No one ordered Captain Feenix of Port Marcus about! Not even this half-elf scum she imagined herself in love with.

  “I’ll do what I damn well please, and by the god’s toe, there’s nothing you can do about it!”

  He stared at her in silence for a moment, but she refused to back down. She could have told him she was the champion starer of every Port Marcus tavern.

  “Guards,” he spoke quietly, but with authority. “Take the captain to my quarters and see that she remains there.”

  The guards each took an arm and began to move towards the back entrance.

  “You wouldn’t dare!” How could he humiliate her this way?

  “Do what you have to do to keep her in the room,” he said to the elves, ignoring her protests. “Short of hurting her, of course.”

  Feenix couldn’t find her voice, s
o shocked was she at L’Garn’s attitude. In high fury, she allowed herself to be led from the balcony.

  “You’ll regret this, L’Garn. I swear it.”

  She knew he heard her words, but he made no acknowledgment as he began to address his people, with the young King Balrin at his side.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “I should have left him for dead when I had the chance,” Feenix stormed to the empty room. “I should have just left him and taken off back to Shalridoor!”

  She paced the sleeping chamber where she had spent so much of her time while held captive in Cragimore. As always, the room was not lit nearly well enough for her peace of mind, and that small fact only contributed to the list of annoying things for which L’Garn would be held responsible.

  “Blasted fool! Of course a king can’t mate with someone like me. All he had to do was talk to me and I would have let him off the hook. But no!” She slammed her hand against the chest of drawers and knocked it away from the wall. “He has to go and abdicate his birthright and play the noble male. Well, I don’t care what happens to him now!”

  She kicked the stool against the door. The delicate legs shattered and broke as it hit the hard wooden door.

  “If I had known he was such a fool, I never would have fallen in love with him in the first place! Who wants to be tied to a foolish half-elf who doesn’t even have the wits to recognize a perfect situation when he sees it?”

  She threw herself into the chair by the table and pulled her dagger, jabbing the point of the knife into the table’s smooth surface with a total disregard for the rare material.

  “I would have given my sword arm for a sweet set up like his! Money! Power! Respect!” She accented each word with a jab to the unoffending table. “And he has to go and throw it all away because he thinks he needs to discover his human heritage. The fool!”

  She couldn’t sit still, by the god’s teeth. She needed to be doing something—preferably slitting the gullet of a certain stupid half-elf! How dare he have her removed from the balcony like some misbehaving child? How dare he lock her in a room and tell her to wait for him to find the time to talk to her?

  Who did he think he was?

  Well, no one treated Feenix of Port Marcus that way, and if he thought she was just going to sit quietly twiddling her thumbs while he took his time joining her, he was more insane than his grandfather!

  What she needed was a plan.

  She opened the door, and as expected, two guards stood in the corridor, talking quietly.

  “Do you think I could have a couple of torches?”

  The elves looked at each other and then at Feenix. She knew they were debating the merits of giving such a potentially dangerous weapon to the crazy human.

  “Look,” she said, beginning to unstrap her sword from her side. “I’ll give you my sword in good faith. All I want is some decent lighting in here for a change.”

  “I do not suppose it would harm anything to give you a torch, my lady,” the first elf guard said after a moment.

  “Of course not,” she agreed, handing her sword to him. “I mean, it’s not like I could burn the blasted mountain down, now is it?” She smiled her best comrades-in-arms smile, and blinked her blue eyes at them. She sensed their impending captivation.

  “Very well,” the second elf said with a shy grin. He was much too young to be standing guard outside the room of Captain Feenix of Port Marcus, she noted. “I will return in a moment with your torch.”

  “Make it two, would you? I don’t think one will be bright enough for what I have in mind.”

  The elf paused for a moment, then nodded before trotting off down the corridor. Feenix winked at the remaining guard, and then went back into the room. That had been no challenge.

  With a self-satisfied sigh, she gathered up the sleeping covers, plopped down on the bed, and proceeded to the next phase of her plan.

  “Feenix, are you there?”

  Oh, blast! She had forgotten about Rendolin contacting her again today. She stopped her work and concentrated on the Sea Elf.

  “Rendolin. Has it been four hours? It seems like only years.”

  “Your sarcasm is wasted on me, captain. Report, please.”

  “Fine, but we have to make this quick. I’m...never mind. We just need to make this quick.”

  “Agreed. Contacting you like this twice in one day is very draining on me.”

  “Fine. Zimpher is dead. The Night Elves have a new king, and they are agreed to Mac Lir’s plan of a lasting peace. For the most part.”

  “Explain ‘for the most part’ please.”

  “Well, L’Garn is still with his people hammering out the details, but basically, they agree to the peace and will meet with you and your people to decide the next best course of action against Tuawtha. It was touch and go there for a bit, but your father J’Laris stepped forward and pledged your people’s cooperation. L’Garn pledged his people’s.”

  “Splendid. Tell L’Garn that the attack from his people has been aborted, with only a few minor wounds. The runner he sent arrived moments ago, and is now speaking with Zimpher’s attacking force, explaining the situation. All seems well, but we will continue to keep an eye on them.”

  “Good. L’Garn freed all the elves that had been held in slavery here, as a pledge of good faith. Did the former Night Elf slaves from Sasheena arrive in Shalridoor yet?”

  “Aye. We will bring them to the peace negotiations. The negotiations will take place in the Darkening Wood, at the ancient council glen. L’Garn should know where it is.”

  “When will the negotiations take place?”

  “We will meet in the Darkening Wood at twilight, two evenings from now. Tell L’Garn to bring the freed slaves so they may be returned to their families. We will bring the freed Night Elves.”

  “Are we done? I have to go.”

  “Yes. I will see you at the negotiations.”

  “Goodbye, elf. See you then. Oh, and give my love to your Bonded mate,” she couldn’t resist the slight dig.

  “As I said, Feenix, your sarcasm is wasted on me. Korrene sends her love to you, as well.”

  The connection was broken just as suddenly as it had been made. Feenix chuckled softly to herself at Rendolin’s parting comment. Korrene might be soft and useless as far as battles went, but she had a sense of humor. Given time, Feenix might actually come to like the human from Earth.

  A knock on the door alerted her to the guard’s return. She tucked the coverlet behind her before telling him to enter.

  The young guard opened the door and held out three unlit torches to her.

  “I thought you might need an extra. Just in case,” he said, blushing at her smile of approval.

  “Thank you so much!” She stood and closed the space between them. “Do you think you could light one for me?”

  Within moments, Feenix held a blazing torch in her hand, and was able to see the room more clearly than ever before. She thanked the guards once more, then closed the door, anxious to get on with her plan.

  By the god’s left toe, that half-elf was going to be sorry he ever banished her to his room like a child!

  She worked quickly; the three torches were lit and posted about the chamber. Surprised to find old torch brackets high in the walls, she didn’t hesitate to use the handy conveniences. In a short time, the room was ready for Prince L’Garn of the House of Meedrion.

  Feenix sat on the bed and tried to wait patiently.

  ~*~

  The torches sputtered and hissed, giving off an acrid smell that soon filled the room and masked the usual damp and musty odor found throughout Cragimore. Black smoke billowed to the ceiling that, fortunately, was high enough so that the smoke didn’t burn her eyes. The light from the torches gave her the first clear look at L’Garn’s personal space.

  The room was fairly large, with space for two chests of drawers, a table, stools, a comfortable chair for relaxing, and the bed. The cot that had been in the room wh
ile Feenix was recovering from her fever was missing.

  The floor was bare rock, except for a fur rug beside the bed. The fur was dark brown, thick and luxurious. She bent to brush her palm across the soft fur; the remains of a very large and obviously slow mountain bear. It was the only bit of luxury Feenix could see in the entire room.

  The walls were made of dark granite with veins of black crystal and silvan silver running through them. A few shelves had been chiseled into the rock to hold personal items. Said personal items were all neatly stacked and sorted.

  L’Garn was overly neat. Feenix thought of her own cluttered living quarters, and grunted to herself. Just one more thing pointing to their incompatibility. By Mac Lir’s thumb, she was right to leave him as quickly as possible.

  Just as she noticed a small alcove at the bottom of the bed leading to another area, the door opened and L’Garn stepped into the room.

  He stepped over the threshold, blinked and then shielded his eyes against the brightness of the torches.

  “By the Jewels! What is this?”

  Feenix’s stomach did a flip and her knees decided they wanted to buckle at the sight of him. He stood with one hand on the door, and the other over his eyes, trying to adjust his sight to the light in the room.

  As she had noted before, he wore black leather breeches and a vest, with a deep blue silk shirt. What she hadn’t noticed in the terrible dimness of Cragimore was that the rich hue of the shirt caused his light blue eyes to darken to the color of a summer’s sky. Silver piping decorated the vest, complementing the silver of his belt buckle and the jeweled hilt of his sword, which rode low on his left hip.

  His feet and calves were encased in tight boots reaching to just below his knees. Tucked in the side of his right boot peeked a silver dagger. Feenix’s mouth actually started to water, her desire for him was so strong. It was like a hurricane wind that hit her full in the face.

  Why did it have to hurt so much to do the right thing? How could she walk away with the need of him aching in every pore of her body?

  She forced herself to concentrate on her plan. Get a grip, Feenix! He’s just a man. With elfin blood running through his veins. Just get it done!