by Mark Anthony
The mage's clear eyes were fathomless. One hand dipped into the pocket of his robe and emerged with a small packet of dried leaves. "Pour this into a cup of hot water, my lady. It will ease your mind and help you sleep. I will send a servant to you with the water."
She waited, still trying to collect her thoughts, then nodded. Miral and one of the guards helped her to her feet. Then the mage disappeared down the hallway. She stood in her doorway, with the guards looking anxiously on. Down the hallway, Lord Xenoth's door suddenly opened and the adviser—curiously enough, fully clothed—peered out. Laurana ignored him, still annoyed by his unceasingly closed-minded treatment of Tanis and Flint.
Her irritation with the adviser vanished as she tried to clear her thoughts. Something, some memory, seemed to be niggling just out of her reach. What was it?
Well, whatever it was, if it were important, she'd remember it later. She bade the guards good night and shut herself in her room again.
Chapter 16
The Interview
One of the Speaker's servants intercepted Tanis shortly before dawn the next morning as the half-elf strode from the palace to the stables to check on Belthar, his horse. The servant informed Tanis that Solostaran wanted to see him in the Speaker's anteroom immediately.
But when Tanis arrived at Solostaran's chambers at the Tower, the guards standing outside the door told Tanis that the Speaker was with someone and that he would be ready for his conversation with Tanis shortly. Tanis thanked them, then slinked down the hall to wait, finding a seat in an alcove.
The door to the Speaker's office opened, and Porthios stepped out. He nodded to the guard and walked purposefully in the direction opposite Tanis, apparently not seeing the half-elf in the alcove. Tanis let out a tight breath of relief, and when Porthios had gone, he made his way to the door. The guard showed him in immediately, shutting the door behind him, and Tanis swallowed hard, wondering what the Speaker had to say to him.
The Speaker sat at his desk, looking over a sheaf of parchments, an oil lamp casting a pool of light on the papers. The golden trim on the Speaker's green robes glittered in the lamplight. When the door clicked shut, he immediately set the parchments down and looked up, as if he hadn't really been reading them. The room, with its glass walls, was beginning to glow pinkish gray in the dim light just before dawn.
"Tanthalas," the Speaker said, his voice neutral. He didn't offer a chair, so Tanis remained standing.
"You wished to see me, Speaker," Tanis said. He couldn't remember ever feeling like this before in the presence of the Speaker, but somehow, this day, Tanis found himself afraid.
The Speaker nodded. "Yesterday was a trying day, Tanthalas," he said softly. He stood and paced about the room, his hands clasped behind his back. "I knew it would be difficult to promise the hand of Lauralanthalasa to another, but I had little choice. The promise had been sworn between two houses long ago. Countless agreements, numerous treaties, depend on the elves' faith that the Speaker of the Sun will always keep his word. What could I do?"
He seemed to be arguing with himself, rather than speaking to Tanis. "Should I have stepped down from the rostrum, been Speaker no longer, to save my daughter?"
Tanis nearly gasped. Abdicate?
But the Speaker shook his head. "And what would that accomplish? Porthios would take my place, and then the promise would fall to his shoulders and little would have changed. So you see, Tanis, I kept the promise. The honor of our house demanded it." He looked piercingly at Tanis then, and the half-elf involuntarily winced.
"Nor is Tyresian a poor choice for Laurana," the Speaker went on, and Tanis felt his heart thudding. "So, though I knew it would be a difficult task, I resolved myself to do it, to announce the betrothal.
'Tell me, Tanis, why have things gone this way?" the Speaker asked. "I do not understand, nor has anyone been able to explain to me, how my daughter could somehow have promised herself to the boy I brought into my home and raised as her brother. And for the first time ever, I find Laurana unwilling . . ." The Speaker paused for a moment, a hand passing before his eyes. But then the moment was gone, and his regal bearing returned. "I find her unwilling to speak with me. Tell me, Tanis. Why does my own daughter defy me?"
Tanis shook his head. "I don't know," he said truthfully.
"But you, of all people, must know, Tanis," the Speaker said, his voice taking on an edge. "You have always been closest to her of my children. And now I find that perhaps you are closer than I thought." His eyes flashed green.
"No, it's not that at all," Tanis said, his heart galloping in his chest. "It was just a game we played, a long time ago, that's all."
"A game?" the Speaker said. His voice was soft, but there was a sharpness that left Tanis chilled. "This is a serious matter, Tanthalas," he said, advancing toward the half-elf, his robes rippling around him. "The integrity of our house, the harmony of the court, the very peace this city is founded upon, are at stake here. This is not a time for games!"
Tanis shook his head, his face hot. He tried to say something, anything, but no words came.
"First Laurana all but defies me before the entire court," Solostaran continued. "And I hoped that you would have learned from that, that you would have seen the effects of what you'd wrought, for you have always been dear to me, and I'd thought that you respected me. But then I learned that only hours later you were with her again in the courtyard, that she flung her arms about you and kissed you like . . . like . . ." The Speaker's words faltered, but then he gathered himself. His eyes glinted, and his voice was rough. "This is a dark game you are playing with her, Tanis. You are a member of this court and should respect its decrees. You are my ward. You are her brother and she, your sister."
The Speaker's eyes went wide, the rage draining from them, leaving his face gaunt. His shoulders sagged, and he grasped the edge of his desk as if to steady himself.
"Excuse me, Tanis," he whispered.
Tanis helped the Speaker into his chair.
"It's just that things have been so hard, leading up to this past day," the Speaker said. He gestured to a decanter of wine, and Tanis poured a cup for the Speaker to sip. "And since yesterday, courtiers have been at me like hounds nipping at the flanks of a stag. And what was I to tell them? That my ward was going to marry the woman whom all considered his sister—in name, if not in actuality? That I would break my word?" He shook his head. "But try to understand. It is not you I'm angry with. It's the court and its narrow-mindedness, about you, about your heritage."
Tanis sighed. He desperately wanted to believe the Speaker, and true enough, that old warmth radiated from his surrogate father now.
"I've told you the truth," Tanis said. "I love Laurana, of course, but as my sister. I'm not sure what to do now." Almost as an afterthought, he added, "Laurana can be pretty stubborn."
The Speaker almost laughed then. At least, a smile flickered across his lips. "Ah, I should have expected it, really. Her childhood playmate has become a handsome young elf lord. What wonder is it that she fancies him? For while he has been raised as her brother, she knows this is not truly so."
Tanis waited, unsure what to say, but the interview appeared to be over. Moments later, he was back in the corridor, alone.
Chapter 17
The Hunt
Tanis watched the sunrise from the vantage of the Hall of the Sky. The pale beams glinted like copper on the Tower of the Sun and sparked like fire off the city's crystal and marble buildings. As the sun rose above the horizon, it intercepted a far-off bank of dark clouds that hung low in the sky. The sun set the clouds ablaze, turning them from dull gray to blazing crimson in minutes. The clouds seemed thicker than they had the previous evening. Tanis made his way back to the palace, heading for the stable, where Belthar, his three-year-old chestnut stallion, was quartered.
Outside the gray granite stable, the nobles of Qualinost were already gathered. Tyresian, wearing black leather breeches and steel breastplate, shouted orders to
Ulthen from the top of his bay stallion, Primordan. Miral lounged against one wall of the stable, cloth bags of spell-casting items dangling from the belt of the hooded red tunic he had exchanged for his customary robe. The knee-length tunic was split down the middle, allowing the mage to ride a horse comfortably. Several other nobles, whose names Tanis couldn't remember, chatted in a group to the left of the stable door. Nearby, Litanas saddled the mage's gelding. Porthios stood off to one side, watching but saying little; his brother, Gilthanas, wearing his black guard's uniform, mimicked his stance, to Porthios's apparent discomfiture. Tanis nodded to his cousins as he entered the livery stable to retrieve Belthar. Later, as he led the stallion forth onto the cobblestones of the stable yard, he saw Xenoth approaching from the palace and Flint, on Fleetfoot, riding in from the south, Tanis's sword flapping at his side. On the other side of the pack animal rested the dwarf's battle-axe.
"Now there's a memorable pair—a dwarf on a mule and an elf so old he probably knew Kith-Kanan," Ulthen shouted to Gilthanas, who glanced at his brother and quickly masked a smile. Porthios looked annoyed. Tanis paused by the Speaker's heir, holding Belthar by the reins and waiting for Flint to bring him his sword.
Lord Xenoth reached the stable yard first, his ankle-length robes, the color of the storm clouds gathering overhead, fluttering around his legs. He asked Tyresian where he could borrow a horse; apparently the adviser didn't own one.
"By the gods, Xenoth is going to have to ride sidesaddle in that outfit!" Porthios muttered to Gilthanas and the half-elf. "Even Laurana rides astride. Go give him a hand, Tanis. He can ride the mare Image."
Tanis handed his reins to Gilthanas and strode off to help Lord Xenoth. Despite the upheaval of the last few days, even though he knew the group of volunteers would seek a deadly beast that already had slain several elves, he was happy to be a part of the hunt. The half-elf felt a twinge of excitement shiver through him. He had never been invited to ride with Tyresian or Porthios on one of the elf lords' stag hunts—they were reserved for the highest of elven nobility—but this time Tyresian could not stop him. Tanis closed his eyes, imagining the branches whipping green and blurred past him as he galloped with his mount through the forest trails. It was going to be glorious.
In the dim light of the stable, Xenoth peered into stall after stall, apparently seeking a mount that was suitable for him—or, perhaps, suitable for the rider he had been decades earlier. Tanis went over to Image's stall and called her name, and the mottled head of the elderly mare appeared over the top of the half-door. A gentle creature, she whickered softly in response; Tanis and she had been friends for years, and she pricked her ears now, eyeing his pockets for apples or other delectables. He pulled a carrot out of his tunic, cracked it in half, and offered it on a flattened palm. He watched as her rubbery lips sought out the trifle, fed it into her crunching maw, and snuffled around for the other half.
"Sorry, that half's for Belthar," he said, then raised his voice. "Lord Xenoth. I have your horse for you."
At the other end of the stable, Xenoth paused by the stall of Alliance, a huge warhorse that even Tyresian could barely control. The adviser shook his head, silver hair gleaming in the gray light, and pointed at the beast. "I will ride this one," Xenoth said. "Get him ready for me."
Alliance lunged over the partition, teeth narrowly missing the wizened elf's hand. Xenoth leaped back with a cry. Tanis, shaking his head, led Image out of the stall, and a stableboy leaped to prepare the horse for riding.
"Ride Image," Tanis said. "She's a fine, gentle horse."
Xenoth's face went ruddy with anger. "Are you saying I can't handle this horse?" he demanded. He gestured again, and Alliance went crazy trying to snap the morsel that the adviser kept waving in front of his face.
Tanis sighed and stepped closer. "I'm saying that Kith-Kanan himself couldn't handle that horse." He heard footsteps behind him and guessed that Xenoth's screechy voice had attracted the attention of the other volunteers.
Xenoth's blue eyes protruded slightly; his voice trembled. "I was quite the horseman in my prime, half-elf."
"I'm sure you were, Lord Xenoth." Tanis tried to keep his tones low and even, on the theory that what would quiet a panicky horse also would work with a hysterical elf. "But you don't even own a horse now. It's been awhile since you rode. Why not start out with a slightly . . . easier . . . mount?" He heard a muffled snort from behind him; his neck prickled with the realization that quite an audience had gathered. Seeking to end the brouhaha quickly, Tanis reached forward and laid a hand on the adviser's silken sleeve.
"Leave me be!" Xenoth cried. "I will not be manhandled by a . . . by a bastard half-elf !"
Several of the elves behind Tanis gasped and others burst into laughter. Tanis felt his chest contract and his hands clench. He took one step toward the adviser, whose eyes widened in fear. Behind Xenoth, Alliance bared his teeth again.
"Tanis. Lord Xenoth." The words were spoken in a baritone that brooked no disobedience. Tanis turned.
It was Porthios. "Tanis, go out to your horse. Xenoth, you will ride Image or you will not attend this hunt."
Porthios stood like an avenging god, his golden green hunting garb glittering like the Speaker's ceremonial robe. His eyes flashed in anger. The other courtiers fell back, looking slightly ashamed. Porthios waited until Xenoth moved from Alliance to Image, now ready for the hunt. Tanis pushed between Ulthen and Miral and stalked toward the stable's double doors. Porthios's voice halted him, however.
"Tanis," the Speaker's heir said. "I am sorry."
The half-elf waited, not sure if Porthios intended to say more. Then he shrugged and went out to Belthar.
* * * * *
Half an hour later, the volunteers were ready. Xenoth sat astride Image, the adviser's robes bulked up around his thighs, revealing long, skinny legs in black leggings. Xenoth, who actually appeared to be a passable horseman, stayed near the back of the group. Tyresian, Porthios, and Gilthanas stood at the front.
Tanis's stallion pawed at the dewy cobblestones, and it snorted, breath fogging on the cool, damp air. "Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to ride a horse, Flint?" the half-elf asked.
"You know very well I can't," the dwarf said grumpily, his face pale and weary after only three hours of sleep. "I'm deathly afr—er, allergic to horses."
The dwarf gave a loud sneeze just for emphasis and then blew his nose like a trumpet in his handkerchief. Tanis's mount nickered, apparently in reply.
"Well, who asked you?" Flint said hotly, glaring at Belthar. The stallion rolled its eyes, showing the whites, and its ears went back as it chomped its bit.
"All right, you two," Tanis said, giving the reins a tug. "That's enough."
The horse snorted again, as if to say he didn't pretend to understand the peculiarities of dwarves. Nor did Tanis, always.
Tanis glanced at the other courtiers and young nobles who were mounting their steeds in the steadily brightening light, but few paid him much attention. Most likely they had taken his argument with Xenoth as just another sample of his human temper, though for the life of him he couldn't see that Xenoth had behaved with elven coolness, either.
Still, he felt a pang of excitement. Whatever the events of the last few days, to be finally given the chance to ride alongside the others . . .
He searched the gathering of elves. Tyresian sat straight and proud upon his mount, clasping the reins in black-gloved hands. Porthios was astride his gray steed next to the elf lord, and Gilthanas waited just behind them on a roan mare, a pretty creature with delicate legs and a finely drawn head.
A trumpet call rang out then, high and sweet on the clear air, and Tanis mounted his horse, reining Belthar in to stand near the others. Tyresian's gaze flickered in his direction for a moment, but it seemed an uninterested look, and then the elf lord turned his attention back toward his companions.
Tanis checked the arrows in the quiver at his knee; after leaving Flint last night, he'd spent an hour att
aching to shafts the steel arrowheads the dwarf had made for him. The hard metal might be just what was needed against the scaly hide of a tylor. Then Tanis adjusted Flint's sword in its scabbard at his side. It was awkward—a short sword or even a long dagger was a more common blooding knife, used to dispatch, say, a stag that had been brought down with an arrow. But they were after a bloodthirsty lizard as long as several elves. Who knew what weapon would serve the hunters best?
Besides, Tanis was too proud of the sword to have left it behind. Its handguard glimmered coolly in the dawn light, like tendrils of silvery smoke that had somehow been frozen in place. In the middle of the handguard . . .
"Flint!"
The dwarf looked up from his seat on the gray mule's back.
"You fastened my mother's amulet to the handguard," Tanis said. Tyresian and Miral looked aside at the half-elf.
The dwarf sounded petulant. "Well, I told Ailea I would, didn't I? Spent two hours in the middle of the night on it, too. Poked holes in the handguard—nearly broke my heart to do that, I might add—and the pendant and then ran a chain link through 'em both." He huffed. "Amazing, the things I'll do for a damsel in distress."
Tanis smiled and shrugged. The midwife hadn't qualified as a "damsel" for some time, but he suspected that the dwarf was just a bit sweet on Eld Ailea, despite the several hundred years that separated them.
Tyresian's voice broke through the chatter. "Is everyone ready?" he asked quietly. Tanis had to hand it to the elf lord; he had the presence to command.
Tanis patted his sword. In addition to the sword and the quiver of arrows ready by his right knee, he wore his short bow on his back and carried a leather flask of wine, in case the creature injured anyone. Tanis checked everything and then nodded. He was ready.