“The younger man is the Duke of Allesmeade, Armand Brandewulf. And the man on his left is the Governor of Tarshish, Felix Gryn,” Siegfried said.
The two men entered the gates, along with the rest of their party, and the Royal Guards dispersed the crowd as the gates closed.
“I see the guards of the gate. Let’s try to get inside, Siegfried,” Lucius said, walking toward the iron wrought gates. The guards, more alert than usual, crossed their halberds together and shouted for them to halt.
“What business have you in Gilead Palace?” one of the guards asked.
“We wish to have an audience with King Alfryd please,” Lucius said.
“The king will be busy for the next few days with the special council and will not be holding audiences until it is concluded. Move along,” the guard said. He was a younger man with a round face. He wore a wide a wide-brimmed helmet that cast a shadow over his eyes. Lucius guessed the design was intentional to make the palace guards look more intimidating. Unfortunately the helmet only made this particular guard look comical, with his youthful features and higher-pitched voice.
“Sir, it is necessary for us to see the king right away. We have important news to share that could help the campaign against the Draknoir and the dragons,” Lucius insisted.
The other guard, an older man with a dark complexion, frowned at him and said, “Everyone in this city has important news they want to share. If I had a solidus for every time a peasant told me they had important news, I’d have an estate along Noble Street with the rest of the wealthy folk. Now move along or you will be forcibly removed.”
Lucius scowled at the guard, then turned to Siegfried. “Any ideas?”
“None that won’t get us arrested,” Siegfried said, shrugging.
Lucius slumped his shoulders in defeat. The guards saw the gesture and asked him once more to clear the way, this time a note of triumph evident in their voices. Lucius turned to leave, but suddenly an idea formed in his mind. Inside his pack, among the food and belongings, he carried the stone carving that Helmer had given to him. The octagon-shaped stone bore the crest of Cervantes Nostra, his ancestor. It was the only possession left to him by his true family, and evidence of his royal birthright. The guards would know the crest of Nostra and they would probably understand that whoever possessed such an item was no simple commoner.
But Lucius also knew that Siegfried would not approve of him revealing his identity so casually. The heirs of Nostra were hunted down by the Draknoir and their sympathizers in the years following Cervantes’ death, including his own parents. If he revealed his heritage now, it would be tantamount to painting a large target on his back for the enemies of the kingdom. He might even incite dissension within the Aldronian royal family. The Dermonts were not descendants of the Nostra line. They were chosen by the rest of the nobility to inherit the throne Cervantes left vacant decades ago. The revelation that an heir of Nostra still lived would surely threaten their claim to the throne. He hated to cause trouble with Silas’ family, but he could think of no quicker way to get inside the palace. Time was running out, and waiting until the end of the council was not an option.
He came to a decision. Unslinging his pack, he rummaged through the contents and clasped the smooth surface of the octagonal stone. Siegfried watched him closely and put a hand on his forearm to stop him.
“Don’t do it, Lucius. Remember Father’s warning? If you reveal yourself as a Nostra and the Ellyllei, all of Kraegyn’s forces will be hunting you,” Siegfried whispered.
“Kraegyn is already hunting me, Siegfried. He speaks my name in the nightmares and tells me he’ll find me. Even the Wretched One knew who I was. There’s no other option to get inside and inform the king before another attack occurs, or worse,” he said.
Siegfried sighed, releasing his arm and nodding in agreement.
Lucius stepped up to the guards again. Their eyes narrowed and they gripped their halberds tighter at the sight of him. But before they could give him another warning, he waved the crest of Nostra in their faces. “By the authority granted to me by the house of Nostra, I demand that you let me see the king at once,” he said defiantly.
The men’s eyes widened at the sight of the stone octagon. “Where—where’d you get that?” the younger guard asked.
“It was given to me. Now let me see the king.”
*
Lucius could tell that Sir Robert, the seneschal of Gilead Palace, was not having a good day. The man’s temperament seemed rather pompous at first, but one glance at the Nostra crest in Lucius’ hand drained all color from the man’s already pale face. He was muttering something about “not wanting to be wrong again” as he escorted them through the anteroom of the palace to a long hall that served as a kind of waiting room for nobles. Beyond the hall, two large double doors stood—presumably to the king’s throne room.
“Please wait here; I will let his Highness know of your arrival,” he said sheepishly before running off toward the double doors.
Lucius glanced around the room and saw a handful of nobles and ladies standing around talking to each other. Most of the men he recognized as knights riding in during the morning’s proceedings outside the gates. A few glanced over at him and Siegfried with some interest, but continued chatting to each other about the latest court gossip. Lucius noted that one of the nobles, a younger man with a blond ponytail, stared at them like they were vermin. The man shook his head in disgust as he turned to the lady nearest to him. He whispered something into the woman’s ear and she laughed exuberantly. No doubt a joke aimed at the commoner and the elf in the hall.
Lucius sighed, now feeling particularly uncomfortable in this setting. The wealthiest and most influential people he had ever been around were the Cyngorell in Evingrad. He recalled Quetulya’s constant patronizing attitude toward him, and realized the air among these nobles felt very much the same.
“Lucius? Siegfried!” a familiar voice called out to them from across the hall.
Lucius and Siegfried both turned to see Violet running toward them. Her heels clacked against the polished marble floor as she made her way over. She was beautifully dressed, appearing like a noblewoman herself. Her bright red hair was pulled back into a neat bun with strands dangling in curls that perfectly framed her heart-shaped face. She wore an elegant dress with a rose pattern across the bust and a blue silk shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her smile beamed with friendliness and relief as she curtsied in their presence.
“I’m so happy to see you both here. We thought your journey had taken an ill turn and we’d never see you again,” she said, a shadow of concern passing over her face.
“We have been through some trials, my Lady Violet. But thank D’arya we came out all right,” Siegfried said.
“I barely recognized you in these…outfits. My mind always envisions you wearing the elven apparel when we first met at the cottage,” she said. A sudden faraway look came over her. “It seems like such a long time ago since that day.”
“Indeed it does,” Lucius said with a bemused smile.
Violet stepped closer to whisper something, but Lucius could not hear what was said on account of his deaf ear. “Do you agree?” she said.
“I do not deny it,” Siegfried said grimly.
Lucius frowned and noticed they were both looking at him, waiting for a response. “I’m sorry, Violet. I couldn’t hear what you said. I’ve—” He hesitated for a moment. He wasn’t sure how she would view him now that he was impaired. Prior to this moment, he’d resigned himself to being half-deaf and making the best of it, but that was when only Siegfried and Alistair knew of his injury. He suddenly felt embarrassed to share the impairment with anyone else.
“You’ve what, Lucius?” Violet asked, her forehead creasing.
“I’ve lost all hearing in my right ear,” he said finally.
Violet placed a hand to her mouth. “Oh no. How? I mean, I’m so sorry, Lucius.”
Lucius nodded, then opened his
mouth to explain, but stopped when he saw someone walking toward them. A woman wearing a shimmering green gown approached. She had flowing dark hair and brilliant green eyes that stood out from her darker skin. Lucius was transfixed by the woman’s beauty, and she looked oddly familiar. As she grew closer, he noticed her pointed ears, and his eyes widened at the realization that she was an elf. But more than that, recognition of the maiden finally struck him. Lucius glanced over at Siegfried, and his brother’s gaping jaw confirmed that he too had made the connection.
“Greetings, my friends,” Naomi said. “My heart is so pleased to see you both again.”
“Naomi?” Lucius whispered.
She nodded. “Yes, it is me, Lucius. Although that is not my real name. I am—”
“Princess Avani of Numa,” Siegfried interrupted. He quickly bowed and said, “Your Highness, it is an honor.”
“Please, there’s no need for that, Siegfried. I sincerely hope you can both treat me like before: as a friend and a confidante. Not like royalty. I do grow tired of all the royal trappings and protocol,” she said.
“As you wish, my—I mean, yes, Avani,” Siegfried corrected himself.
Lucius could not help but stare at Avani with a renewed interest. When they had first met, he felt a sudden attraction to the blacksmith who wore a headscarf. Her green eyes and warm smile had enchanted him. He always thought she had an exotic look about her. There was a mystery about her that he found alluring then. Now it appeared he’d stumbled upon the reason why.
“Lucius, are you well?” Avani asked, looking at him intently.
Lucius nodded quickly. “I’m fine, Naomi—er, I mean, Avani. It might take me a bit to get used to that,” he said. Inwardly, he felt his heart beating faster than when he faced the banshees in the Southern Passage.
“That’s quite all right,” Avani said, smiling. “But really, please treat me as you once did. I am still a blacksmith who is tasked to forge your sword. And, most importantly, I am still your friend.”
He nodded without hesitation. But in truth, Avani’s royal position had already altered his perception of her. His affection toward her remained unchanged, though the prospect of their friendship going any further seemed more distant than ever. What could he, the equivalent of a commoner in Aldron, offer an elven princess of Numa? The racial divide between humans and elves was insurmountable, and any courtships between the two races were considered detestable. He resigned himself to avoid thinking on it and instead focused on the matter at hand.
“So were you able to find camel leather for the sword?” Lucius asked, eager to steer the discussion in a different direction.
“Yes. The king agreed to provide us with the leather for the forging. I suspect you found mithas powder?” Avani asked.
Lucius nodded. “We did, but it was quite an adventure to get it,” he said, giving Siegfreid a sidelong glance. “Perhaps we can tell you the entire story later.”
“I’d love to hear it,” Avani said, smiling again.
Their conversation didn’t last long before an attendant called for everyone’s attention in the hall. The dull roar of chatter died down and the attendant, a rotund man with a well-groomed beard, opened a scroll to read aloud.
“Ladies and gentlemen of the court of Aldron, His Royal Highness, King Alfryd Dermont, thanks you for your presence today. He and the assembled Houses of Aldron request that Princess Avani of Numa, Violet Pulfer, and Lucius of Evingrad enter the throne room first. The rest of the court may depart to their quarters or to the grand ballroom, where a banquet will be held this afternoon. Thank you, sirs and ladies.” The man bowed curtly and turned on his heel.
The conversation rose in pitch again as the nobles discussed the news. Avani looked at Violet and Lucius with concern. “Well, I suppose we best get to it,” she said.
“What about Siegfried? Will they allow him to come with us?” Lucius asked, glancing at his brother, who seemed nonplussed about the development.
Avani shook her head. “It’s against court protocol for him to enter unannounced. I’m sorry,” she said, frowning at Siegfried.
“It’s all right. I’ll keep myself busy around the halls of the palace. Perhaps I can find out some information that could be useful to us,” Siegfried said, looking around the room. The number of pretentious eyes upon them was increasing by the second, but the elf seemed unbothered.
“Well, that sounds exciting,” Lucius said sarcastically. “Just try to stay out of trouble.”
Siegfried smiled. “I am an elf of Evingrad, brother. I do not look for trouble. It seems to find me instead.”
Lucius rolled his eyes.
They exchanged farewells with Siegfried, and the rest of the party walked briskly toward the doors of the throne room. Lucius and the maidens were greeted by the rotund attendant who quickly recognized Avani and Violet from previous encounters, but looked suspiciously at the young man dressed in farmer’s clothes. “Your name, lad?” he asked in a disinterested tone.
“Lucius, sir,” he said, hiding his annoyance over the man’s careful scrutiny.
“Ah yes. Tell me, do you have some form of credentials that would verify your identity?” the attendant asked expectantly.
Lucius’ face flushed. The only credential he had was the stone octagon with the Nostra crest, but he wasn’t about to reveal such an item amid the crowd of curious onlookers. He hesitated, and the attendant furrowed his brows in annoyance.
Before he could explain, Avani began speaking. “I will verify his identity. He is Lucius of Evingrad and a friend of Numa. May we please enter now?”
The man shifted uncomfortably on his feet, then nodded deferentially. “Of course, my lady. Please go in,” he said, opening the door and stepping aside to let them pass.
CHAPTER 11
FATE OF THE ELLYLLEI
When the moment arrived for Lucius to speak with the king, his heart thumped harder in his chest than recent memory. The most powerful men and women of the kingdom were all assembled in the large throne room, seated in a semicircle and watching him.
Over the course of an hour, the nobles of the Four Houses had heard Avani and Violet explain everything concerning the Requiem Sword and the prophecy of the Ellyllei. After some short discussion among the king and his nobles, the ladies were dismissed, and now Lucius stood alone in front of them. Aside from Silas, or Cutter as he’d known him, Lucius had never spoken a word to anyone in the room previously.
There were no formal introductions made except by King Alfryd himself, which seemed standard since he held the highest rank of anyone in the room. The king looked closely at him now, waiting for the answer to the question that was obviously on everyone’s mind.
“You are Lucius Nostra?” King Alfryd asked, raising an eyebrow. Silas sat next to his father and had an expression of concern as he glanced at Lucius.
“That is correct, your Majesty,” Lucius replied.
“How can we be so sure that your bloodline is from that of the great Cervantes?” the sour-faced Tarshish governor, Felix Gryn, asked.
“Lord Gryn brings up an excellent point, your Highness,” another noble cut in. It was the man with the long braid, Armand Brandewulf of Allesmeade. “We only have a stone icon with the Nostra crest on it to verify any of this boy’s claims.”
King Alfryd grimaced. “The stone crest was given to heirs of the Nostra line only. They are made from orichalcum, a rare polished stone that cannot be forged. The icon is authentic,” he said.
“But he could have stolen it,” Lady Georgine of Sangre countered. She was a plump woman with a nose too small for her round face. Her thick lips pursed as she scrutinized Lucius.
“I am no thief,” Lucius said, feeling the temperature of his face rise. He had breached the social norms by interrupting them without permission to speak, but his patience was growing thin.
Silas ran a hand over his face, looking as exasperated as Lucius felt. “What about Princess Avani’s word? She vouched for Lucius
’ identity. Does that hold no weight?” he asked.
Everyone fidgeted in their seats, no one wishing to oust the princess of a foreign power as a liar.
Gryn cleared his throat and eyed Lucius now. “Let us suppose you are who you claim, Lucius Nostra. What brings you here? Are you intending to usurp King Dermont’s throne?” he asked pointedly.
“That is a preposterous claim!” Silas burst out.
“Peace, Silas,” Alfryd said, raising a hand to his son. “Go on, Lucius. Answer the question.”
Lucius sighed. “I do not wish to usurp anyone’s authority. My duty is simply to reforge the Requiem Sword and prevent a great calamity from occurring. I never knew my parents, and I am unfamiliar with this noble setting. I was raised by elves, your Majesty. For all of their mystery and enigmatic qualities, they are simple folk who do not desire power, but only to help each other and thrive in the natural world.
“I feel a distinct calling from Yewa to do the task that I bring before you today. Do I feel up to that task? Not in the least. But I believe in the prophecy and have already seen it confirmed on more than one occasion. I beg of you all to please believe me in this,” he said with conviction. He gave a slight bow and awaited their response.
King Alfryd looked solemn now, and many of the nobles drew in breath to speak, but no one did for a long moment.
Finally, the king broke the silence. “You have spoken well, Lucius. I do not believe you are a charlatan or a liar. As a king, you learn to judge people based on their demeanor, and nothing I see in you reveals any ill toward me or my kingdom.”
“And yet, we must still decide whether or not this young man is the Ellyllei or not,” Lord Brandewulf added. Lucius found a profound irony in the statement. In his mind the Ellyllei was not someone chosen by men or even elves, but Yewa. Whatever ruling might come of this council did not negate the will of Yewa.
“Indeed we must,” King Alfryd agreed. “We have spoken with Princess Avani about the Requiem Sword, Lucius. Our ruling on that matter has been given. Namely that the princess will return to the Sky Forge in Numa and construct the blade there in accordance with what is honorable to the prophecy. However, the subject of the Ellyllei is still a mystery to us. We know little about this person who will wield the sword of Cervantes.”
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