by D. L. Carter
“Indeed, High Lord.”
“In that case, you have completed your task and may leave.”
The last Elf was one of the House servants.
“Jendi sent me to inform you we will have a light breakfast ready for you within a quarter, High Lord.”
“Give Jendi my thanks and have a message sent to Mitash; inform him of the events and ask for his attendance at the early gathering of the Synod.”
The servant bowed and vanished.
Halidan emerged from the bathing room, a towel wrapped around her body and crossed to stand beside Eioth who had not moved, but stood frowning at the floor. She placed her hand on his bare arm and he covered it with his own.
“Who would dare to kidnap the children of a High Lord?” demanded Halidan. “How could they do it?”
“No one of sense,” said Eioth, “especially if you consider how many Houses have applied for marriage contracts with them. Far too many powerful people would take offense at this action.”
“Then who did this?”
“It is my deepest suspicion that this is the next move in Chandri's game,” said Eioth grimly. “Although, I beg you, say nothing of my suspicion outside these wards.”
“It is like a play. A game. So many moves and stratagems. I do not understand how this benefits him.”
“No more do I,” Eioth smiled at her. “Then let us, by all means, take our places upon the stage and permit Chandri to guide our understanding.”
By the time they reached Synod Hall, the chamber was crowded. Not only were the High Lords and their entourages in place, but standing about discussing the matter at the high pitch of their voices were the members of the city guard, legal scholars, priests, acolytes, minor Lords, the Chief Archivist and his staff, and all manner of people that Halidan could not identify.
Chandri was collapsed upon his chair supported by his friends and followers. In one hand, he clutched a soaked handkerchief. Flanking his chair were portraits of his daughters all covered in token ribbons and flowers. Halidan exchanged a look with Mitash, who rolled his eyes.
“How quickly his supporters have created the appropriate memorial,” whispered Mitash.
“They are not yet dead,” said Halidan.
“Oh, I am certain they are not, but this is so dramatic it had to be preplanned. The portraits could not have achieved this degree of decoration in such a short period of time. And to have the portraits here at all, it is all too false!”
A servant leaned down to whisper in Chandri's ear and he raised an ice pale face to glare at Eioth.
“Last to arrive, Eioth, and so calm. You have no children, so you have no understanding of the suffering of a father.” Then Chandri pressed a kerchief to his face and appeared to be overcome by tears.
“I will credit those words to your distress,” said High Lord Trevan. “I propose a vote of sympathy for your current worry, but at the same time, wonder why you have abused your part of our shared authority to summon us here so early.”
And he yawned dramatically.
Halidan and Mitash arranged Eioth's robe across his chair, but kept a close eye on the Lords of the Synod. Chandri's head came up and he stared blankly at Trevan. It seemed Chandri had not considered that his summons would be poorly received. Obviously, he had not expected protests to his high handed manner given the reason.
Eioth settled himself in his chair, leaned back, tucked his hands into his sleeves, and spoke in light, conversational tones. “I find myself wondering why the city guard officers are here. From what location were the girls spirited away?”
“From my very House,” wailed Chandri.
“Oh? Your House?” Eioth permitted a few seconds of thought on the subject of the poor security of Chandri's House to cross the minds of the other Lords, but said nothing to that subject. “Then why are the officers here instead of searching your House and grounds? Questioning your servants? Searching the city? I am certain they have much to occupy them and cannot spare the time to engage in formalities with us.”
There was a relaxation of tension in the bodies of the guards. Chandri cast a glare toward Eioth. The most senior city guard stepped forward and glanced from Lord to Lord trying to decide who to address.
“Ah,” said the guard and waited for guidance. Finally he focused his attention on some nebulous spot over the High King's throne. “High Lord Chandri commanded me here. I request permission to depart to oversee the search.”
His voice faded away uncertainly.
“By all means, go,” said Lady Senoia. “Use your own best wisdom in your search for the children.”
With a bow to the room in general the guards departed before a less sensible order was given.
“Why did you call us here at this hour, Chandri?” inquired the Gidrin, Lord of the Full West. “I can only think your mind is disordered with grief.”
“Not so,” Chandri leapt from his chair. “I came to ask for your confirmation that you will support me in the use of all our resources to recover my lost children.”
“Chandri, be comforted,” said Senoia. “No one of sanity will harm three little girls.”
“The degree of effort put out to recover them must be equal to their value,” cried Chandri.
“Value?” whispered Mitash.
Halidan nodded. She hadn't missed that word, either.
“If you wish to offer a reward, Chandri, no one will think less of you,” said Senoia, then paused and continued as if the words had a bad taste. “I shall add to it, if required.”
Ignoring her, Chandri assumed an orator’s posture in the center of the compass on the floor.
“The value of my children cannot be measured, not only to the family who loves them or the husbands they will eventually marry, but to the Empire. These children, who with their bodies, hopes, dreams and wombs, represent the future of the Empire. The number of High Court children dwindle with the passing of every year to our sorrow and despair. Soon not only will the throne of the High King stand empty, but we shall have none eligible to claim it.”
“I wondered when we'd get to that,” whispered Mitash to Halidan and fell silent when Eioth waved a hand at him.
Chandri moved, again, until he was facing the assemblage from the foot of the throne. “So much suffering in the Empire derives from our lack of a High King. Why, just a moment ago the chief of the city guard was at a loss as to whom he should address in this chamber because we have no King.”
“Oh, I wondered what this was about,” said Senoia. “Chandri, sit down or go home. There is no way I shall permit you to parlay your daughters’ disappearance into a claim upon the throne.”
“Senoia, you are before me.” Trevan leaned forward and addressed himself to the High Lord of Full East. “Adarh, you win. I will have the wine delivered this evening.”
“His demesne is my neighbor. I know his nature better,” said Adarh. “I knew the third day would not dawn without him placing himself before the throne.”
There was laughter from various places about the room as the listeners realized that the High Lords had been taking bets on Chandri.
“Will you let me finish? You heard out Eioth yesterday . . .” Chandri paused, probably realizing it was not wise to point out that another member of the Synod commanded greater respect.
“Come, Chandri, you cannot complain when you advised us all of your ambition,” said Trevan. “We have been awaiting your next move. I must confess, I did not expect you to vanish your own daughters.”
“How dare you?” Chandri pulled himself to his full height and scowled about the chamber. “I swear by all the Elements and before this gathering, I do not know where my daughters have gone.”
“Which is not to say you did not give the order for them to be taken,” said Senoia.
“Lady Senoia, I demand an apology for that accusation. What sort of father do you consider me that I should endanger my children?”
“Be silent, Chandri,” said Eioth, rising. “We know
you. There is no trick you would disdain in your pursuit of the throne. You are revealed; therefore, you might as well spare us your histrionics and simply confess. What was your intention? Tell us; then we can send a message to whoever does know the location of your daughters and have them home before dawn.”
“You have offended me beyond words,” said Chandri.
“And yet you still speak,” shot back Eioth to the general amusement of the gathering.
Chandri beckoned to his followers, drew his robe over his shoulder, wrapping himself in his sigil, and glared about the room.
“You have insulted me in the worst way possible. I am the most devoted father to my children and would never take any action to their detriment. I shall leave and seek my lost ones, and while I am thus occupied my seat will stand empty, the Synod suspended, for without my vote and voice no business can be conducted.”
Eioth waited until Chandri had almost reached the door before calling after him, “Chandri, you are mistaken. Only five voices are needed to form a quorum. Therefore, I beg you, feel comfortable to take all the time necessary to conduct the search for your children; we shall conduct the business of the Empire quite well in your absence.”
“I am not mistaken,” sneered Chandri and turned to face the High Lords. “I call upon my dearest friends to provide me with aid in the search. Come with me now.”
Halidan watched the seated High Lords stare as three more of their number gathered their attendants and followed Chandri from the room. Only four remained seated.
It was Senoia who said the words into the stunned silence that followed.
“We do not represent a quorum. The Synod is in abeyance.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“I swear to you, Norfarland, bastard and villain, that we are enemies lifelong. I shall await the news of your perpetual poverty, of your years spent wandering homeless and friendless, of your death from some painful and disfiguring disease and I shall do everything within my power to see that all this comes to pass at the earliest possible instant! I shall send notice to all magistrates of your foul disposition and criminal activities. Of your perversions and debaucheries. There is nowhere you can run that I shall not precede you with the report of your true nature. Soon I hope to rejoice in the news of your passing and shall ensure you are buried, face down, at the bottom of a cesspit. Then, and only then, shall I know you are truly where you deserve to dwell.”
Replied Norfarland:
“Bethrinic, I am honored that someone so high above me should expend such time, attention, thought and care upon my unworthy self. I must say, I have given less thought to my future than you. But, if the activity entertains you, have at it. For the rest, I thank you. Now at least I know my few friends shall be spared the expense of my funeral.”
The Adventures of Norfarland the Bastard ~ Book 17
“What do you think he is planning?” asked Mitash, as they rode back through the city.
“Something that ends with the girls being found by some miracle in the same room as the High King's Crown,” said Eioth.
Mitash gasped and almost fell off his horse as he spun around to face the High Lord. “You think he has the crown?”
“Lower your voice. He probably has had a replica made,” said Eioth. “The more time passes, the more we see of Chandri's plans, the stronger my suspicion grows.”
“How can he hope to get away with a deception like that?” asked Halidan. “Will not the crown he provides be examined?”
“No doubt he thinks by the time events reach the point where the crown is being lowered upon his head no one will want to test the crown’s authenticity.”
“What shall we do to thwart him?” asked Mitash. “He cannot be permitted to succeed.”
“And how does he think that finding his children will grant him the throne?” Halidan shook her head. “I do not understand this plot.”
“Whatever his intentions, I shall do nothing for at least another five days,” declared Eioth. “At least, nothing magical. Mitash, I require you to offer all aid to the city guard. Search, question, examine at their direction. Should you perceive any hint of the missing children's location bring it both to me and the guards. For now that is all we shall do.”
Halidan followed them, wondering at the choice of days Eioth had declared. It wasn't until she saw the two Elves staring intently at her that she understood.
Eioth had five days left to complete a full moon cycle with no magic.
She turned away from them, refraining from pressing a hand to her belly only by using the full force of her stubbornness. What if she were infertile? Or unlucky?
Even mortal women did not quicken every time they mated.
What if she did become with child? Her fingers clenched around the reins even as her mouth dried. What if?
And how long did it take from conception to when a pregnancy could be sensed by a healer?
Well, if she were not, it would give Eioth time to reconsider creating a child with her. It would be months before there was another moon-long break in his commitments. Plenty of time for him to think better of weakening his bloodline.
At the door to Eioth's House, Mitash bowed and departed to organize the assistance to be offered to the city guard.
“What shall we do while we wait for the Synod to be called back into session?” asked Halidan as they ascended into the House.
Eioth smiled at her over his shoulder and immediately her body warmed and ached.
“Besides that!” she said, “We cannot have sex every moment of the day.”
“Do you think not? Such aspersions you cast upon my virility. Well, you may be right. I do not expect the Synod to sit idle for long. Chandri will call us back. He cannot be acclaimed King if we are not in session.”
“How long, do you think?”
“A day, perhaps two.” His smile became lecherous. “Therefore, we should not waste any time before returning to bed.”
Halidan turned away and tucked her hands into her sleeves. “We have only just risen.”
“That is the good thing about beds. They are understanding and willing to be used, always.”
To his disappointment, Halidan held hard against his persuasion, refusing to return to bed. Instead, they adjourned to the room where she had several boxes of Eioth's books waiting to be examined. Some she had read and marked, already, and while she worked, reading and marking others, Eioth paged idly through the ones she was finished with, reading her comments and deciding if the book should be kept or discarded. They were still there when Mitash returned, pale and solemn.
“Oh, no,” cried Halidan when she saw his face. “They found the girls dead!”
“Did they?” said Mitash, astonished. “I hadn't heard.”
“Neither had we, friend Mitash,” said Eioth calmly. “Halidan was judging from your face. You have the appearance of a mourner at a funeral.”
Mitash lifted the scroll in his hand. “I have here with me the commands of High Lord Chandri.”
“Your pardon?” Eioth straightened in his chair, his face going still and hard. “Did I hear correctly?”
Mitash nodded. “When I arrived to offer assistance to the city guard, I was directed to an office where waited one of Chandri's staff. He had this scroll marked with your name. It lists the number and type of servants and guards he requires of you, the provisions they should bring, and the location to which they should be sent.”
Eioth paled and his lips tightened.
“I withdraw my offer of aid. This is beyond presumption. This is not a time of war and I am not his vassal to be commanded to raise troops in his service. How dare he?”
“Is he doing the same to the other Lords?” asked Halidan.
“Yes. At least, that was my impression. There were other marked scrolls labeled and waiting to be collected.”
“I shall not tolerate it,” said Eioth. “He goes too far. Mitash, send messengers to the other High Lords outlining my objections to Chandri's pr
esumption and my decision to conduct my own search for the girls.”
“How shall I organize the search?” asked Mitash.
Eioth grinned across at him.
“It matters not Mitash, for my true search when it happens will be magical and I have no expectation of a mundane search being successful. Chandri has some skill and will have turned all of it to concealing the girls’ location until he is ready for them to be found. Once the moon is complete, I shall act. For now, have a few guards go and make themselves visible in the countryside. Chandri's spies will report back to him and he will be content.”
“Five days may be too long,” protested Halidan. “Chandri's plan proceeds while we wait. It could come to pass that he might be successful before you can act.”
“The other High Lords are aware of his ambition and most hold him in contempt for his clumsiness, if nothing else. As the Synod stands at the moment, opinion is divided, four in his favor, four against. We know this since he could only persuade three others to accompany him from the hall. He will have to work hard to win over the remainder and I certainly will not vote for his elevation. No, Halidan, I shall not act a moment sooner than five days. I shall give myself the full moon to test your theory, or even longer, if necessary. In truth, finding out if your theory is correct is far more important than whether or not Chandri is raised to High King. The Empire has weathered poor kings before and shall again, but the lack of High Court children, the loss of magic users? No. That the Empire will not survive.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Place not your faith in talismans created by some other magician's magic. You, and only you, know your needs and can create your magic. You, and only you, should know your secrets. Therefore, place not your trust in priests or magicians who act for the “shared public good.” They are not the people to go to when dealing with private matters.
Cynicism: the solitary magician's path
(Currently hidden in High Lord Eioth’s private library where no one can read it.)
“I have research to do,” continued Eioth. “I must be ready to act as soon as five more days have passed. Mitash, think of some way to apply misdirection to the paths of the other Lords. Put out rumor and chaos to the limit of your abilities. Have them chasing rabbits up trees and cats into rivers. Confuse them as much as possible. I wish to be certain that nothing will be resolved until I am ready.”