"Your Highness," he said with reverence. "I am shocked by your presence here. Please forgive my words of dissatisfaction in your service."
"Sit, Colonel Pfaff," commanded the queen as she moved toward the logs around the campfire.
Cobb immediately rose and moved away from the log he had been sitting on to make room for the queen. She strolled gracefully over to the log and sat down.
"You should know that I value honesty highly, Colonel Pfaff," the queen declared. "Please tell us what transpired last night at the Royal Palace."
"I was awakened with the news that the Ramaldi Pass had been opened," explained the officer. "The messenger said that General Cornalos had died and had been replaced by General Blackmoor, and that the new general had brought the news himself when he had escorted a healer from Lady Ferini's party to look upon your health. I set out to find this new general to verify the news from the messenger, but I was unable to locate him. What I did find was most disturbing. I am afraid to inform you that your personal advisor has been murdered."
The colonel paused for the queen to react, but she remained impassive, and he raised an eyebrow at her lack of emotion, but he continued his telling.
"When I discovered the body of Faldor," reported the colonel, "I immediately sent for General Daramoor, but the guards refused the order. They had been explicitly told not to summon him, and they felt that his order was over mine. So I went to Lady Ferini's myself and told the general what I knew. I will admit that I felt quite foolish at this time. General Daramoor must have felt that I was quite the fool, or at least that is how I was treated. I secured the palace and began an investigation, but I was pulled from the duty almost immediately. When General Daramoor returned to the palace a few minutes later, he relieved me and ordered Major Garibaldi to investigate. As to what they discovered, I know nothing. A few hours later I was ordered to report to General Cornalos at Ramaldi Pass to verify the situation up there."
"I see," the queen said softly as she mulled over the tale. "You said that you thought General Daramoor dislikes you. What do you think of him?"
The colonel hesitated, and the queen stared at him with a demanding look on her face. The colonel sighed heavily.
"General Daramoor is arrogant, mean, manipulative, and overly secretive," declared the officer.
"A general needs to be secretive," countered the queen.
"To a point," nodded Colonel Pfaff, "but General Daramoor is overly so. I felt as if his removal of me from the investigation was to contain the information to only those officers in his inner circle. By doing so, he forfeited a valuable ally that could have helped solve the mystery sooner. It is that type of secrecy that I imply, not the hiding of military secrets from the enemy. I might have been able to catch the murderer of Faldor had I been given the chance."
"And what would you have done had you caught him?" asked the queen.
"I would have returned him to the palace to face judgment," the officer replied without hesitation.
"What would you have done if he told you that I had ordered the death of Faldor?" posed Queen Romani.
"I would have returned him to the palace to face judgment," the officer replied again. "If his words were true, you could have dealt with him as you pleased."
"You have much to learn yet," smiled the queen, "but I think I chose wisely in elevating you in rank."
"I do not understand," the officer said with a confused frown.
"While I did not order the death of Faldor," declared the queen, "I would certainly have done so had I thought it could be accomplished and still escape from the palace."
"Escape?" gasped the officer. "What do you mean?"
"I have not been ill these past few weeks," stated the queen. "I have been held against my will in one of the towers of the palace. It was Faldor who imprisoned me, and he plotted my death in an attempt to replace me and become king of Vinafor."
Colonel Pfaff's fists tightened in rage, but the queen continued.
"The only thing stopping Faldor from assassinating me is that he had competition," the queen said. "My First Minister and my head general also wanted me out of the way. Faldor could not afford to kill me until he had eliminated the competition. I understand that the First Minister unfortunately fell to his death yesterday. That left only General Daramoor in his way. So you see, had you brought the murderer back to stand in judgment, the general would have killed him. You must learn to be more skeptical."
"How General Daramoor has been behaving now make sense," scowled the officer. "I shall return to Waxhaw and bring judgment to him personally."
"No, you will not," declared the queen. "Vinafor is about to fall into Daramoor's hands. There is little that you can do to stop it. Worse, our country will almost immediately join the Federation under Daramoor's reign."
"And you want me to do nothing?" Colonel Pfaff gasped with disbelief.
"That is correct," nodded the queen. "Your task, as I now assign it, is to identify the true patriots of Vinafor. You are to nurture them for a time in the future when we will take our country back. Outwardly, you will be a good little soldier obedient to Daramoor. You will be of no use to Vinafor if your true loyalty is questioned. Secretly, you will gather those whose loyalty is beyond question. Make sure that they are trained in combat. Promote them within the army whenever you can, but always stress secrecy to them. There will come a day when I will return to regain my throne. I want you and the true patriots of Vinafor ready and waiting for me. Can I count on your success?"
"As long as I live and breath," promised the colonel, "I will remain faithful and work diligently to fulfill your commands."
Chapter 25
Taken to Heart
Prince Rigal, Lyron, and Gerant moved stealthily through the trees of Elfwoods. As they approached the first Dielderal village, the three elves hid and observed the villagers. There were only four huts in the entire village. Two elderly couples sat around a fire ring in the center of the four huts, their bodies lean and frail.
"It is not much of a village," Gerant commented softly. "The fairies showed villages much larger than this. Won't we stand out as strangers in such a small community?"
"That is why I am being cautious," nodded Prince Rigal. "The Dielderal are very warlike, and they may attack us before we have the chance to speak to them. As strangers, we must be careful."
"I only see old people," remarked Lyron. "There is no one in that village that could present a threat to us."
"Perhaps they are mages," Prince Rigal said. "It is always foolish to underestimate your opponent, especially when they are Dielderal."
"The rest are probably out hunting," added Gerant, "although I can't imagine what they will find in this forest. The game is rare and scrawny as if some blight is affecting the area."
"Perhaps we should take some food into the village to share," suggested Lyron. "It will ease the suspicions of the villagers."
"A good idea," nodded Prince Rigal. "Get us an offering, Lyron, and remember that I am to be addressed simply as Rigal for the time being. No titles are to be used, nor shall we mention Glendor until I decide it is time."
Lyron nodded silently and slipped away. Prince Rigal and Gerant continued to watch the village, but the elderly elves were content to simply sit and talk. After a while, Lyron returned with a small, scrawny deer and an apologetic look upon his face.
"It was the best I could find," Lyron reported. "Still it ought to be enough for the eight to sixteen people living in the village."
"Don't forget the three of us," chuckled Gerant. "I am hungry enough to eat half of it myself."
"We will do without if there is not enough for the villagers," Prince Rigal retorted dryly. "Try to listen more than you talk once we get there."
Prince Rigal moved from behind the tree, and his two countrymen followed him as he entered the village. The old elves noticed the new arrivals almost instantly. They watched with emotionless faces as the three visitors walked towards them.
"Greetings," smiled Prince Rigal. "I have brought some food to share with your village."
The eyes of three of the elves widened at the sight of the deer, but one old man narrowed his eyes as he glared at the elven prince.
"Where is the rest of your party?" the old man asked.
Prince Rigal frowned at the question and the old man's attitude. He hesitated to speak, wondering if the old man was a mage and knew about the Remora and his mission.
"It is just the three of us," offered Gerant with a smile.
"Then why have you taken more than you can eat?" asked the old man. "Have you no consideration for the rest of Elfwoods?"
"We brought it to share," replied Gerant. "We thought that you would be pleased."
"Returnees?" asked a new voice from behind the visitors.
All three of the Glendor elves turned to see a young man and a young woman coming out of the forest. The man's belt held a string with three rabbits on it.
"They have come into the village to share their deer with us," stated one of the old women. "Your father is not happy about it."
"Twenty years is a long time to be away, Father," said the young man. "Surely, we can allow them some time to get acquainted with the ways of Elfwoods. Laring or I will take what is left of the deer to the next village. I will take our rabbits to them as well. I am sure that the food will not go to waste."
"Is this the whole village?" asked Prince Rigal. "I thought there would be more."
"That explains the need for the deer," the young woman said. "It is just the six of us. My brother is off on work detail this month."
"I am Tomar," stated the young male, "and this is my wife, Laring. We also are recent returnees. The village is just our parents and Laring's brother and ourselves."
"I am Rigal," stated the prince, "and my companions are Lyron and Gerant. I apologize for making a fool of myself."
"Do not worry about it," smiled Tomar. "I also took some time to get used to Elfwoods. A few months ago I could not have imagined three rabbits for six people, but you get used to it quickly."
"Is that all you will eat?" asked Lyron as he stared at the small rabbits on the hunter's belt.
"There are berries and nuts," offered Tomar.
"And greens", added Laring with a frown. "It is adequate for a simple life."
"Let me help you prepare the deer," offered Tomar. "That way we can spread the bounty to the other villages while it is fresh."
The Glendor elves followed Tomar and began to prepare the deer. Rigal was full of curiosity, but he was also fearful of saying too much or not knowing enough. Lyron and Gerant delved into their work while Tomar portioned pieces of meat for the other villages and wrapped them in broad leaves.
"I take it that you are just returning to Elfwoods?" asked Tomar.
"This is our first day," nodded Prince Rigal.
"Interesting," mused Tomar. "I know of no other villages as far west as this one. Have you gotten lost?"
"I guess you could say that," shrugged Prince Rigal.
"Do you know who your parents are?" Tomar asked.
Prince Rigal hesitated, and Tomar turned to look at him. There was a look of sadness and understanding in his eyes.
"You should go directly to the Heart," advised Tomar. "King Elengal keeps accurate records, and he can reunite you with your family. I am surprised that the Baroukans did not escort you directly there. Were you kept in Despair or beyond?"
"Beyond," mumbled Prince Rigal.
"Really?" Tomar asked with rising interest. "I would like to hear of where you were kept. Laring and I never got past Despair."
"I really don't feel like talking about it just yet," Prince Rigal replied cautiously.
Tomar sighed and nodded. "I know that feeling," he admitted with sadness. "Do not worry. No one will pry too deeply. In time the pain will ease."
The men fell silent for a long time. Eventually Tomar called for his wife. He helped her fill a pack with the leaf-wrapped packages and then sent her on her way to distribute the extra meat.
"I have kept more than I should have," Tomar smiled mischievously, "but I won't tell my father if you don't. Some extra meat will do the old ones good."
"Your secret is safe with me," smiled Prince Rigal.
"Excellent," grinned Tomar. "The three of you are welcome to use the hut of Laring's brother during your stay, but you really should get to the Heart as soon as possible."
"We do not know the way," Prince Rigal said sheepishly.
"Head east and ask along the way," Tomar responded. "It is about four days of walking from here. Your lost brothers will guide you to it."
"Why is the game so scarce?" asked Prince Rigal after a period of silence.
"Is it not so all over?" Tomar asked curiously.
Prince Rigal saw the look of curiosity in Tomar's eyes and realized he needed to mind his words. If game was scarce all over Zara, he might have given himself away by asking such a question.
"But this is the Elfwoods," Prince Rigal replied. "Surely, the land of our people should be bountiful."
"Land of our people?" Tomar echoed thoughtfully. "I have never heard the Elfwoods spoken of in such a way. I grow more curious about where you spent your youth, but I will not pry until you are ready to speak about it. Come, let us prepare a feast for the village."
Prince Rigal and his fellow Alceans helped Tomar prepare the evening meal. Laring returned just as the meal was being served. The strangers were treated as welcome guests by the elves of the village. The older villagers were pleased with the extra helpings of meat, but Tomar's father still held a wary look whenever he gazed at the strangers. After the meal was traditionally a time of fellowship between villagers and visitors, but Tomar's father immediately began asking about the visitors' lineage. Prince Rigal forced a yawn and then apologized for the need to retire early. Laring showed the visitors her brother's hut and got them settled in before returning to the communal fire ring. She was not surprised to discover Tomar in a heated discussion with his father.
"We are over a week from Despair," stated the father. "Only a fool would believe that they are just returning from captivity."
"They were not kept in Despair, Father," argued Tomar. "I have told you that already. We are barely over a day's walk from the upper reaches of the Despair River. It is feasible that they could arrive in this village before any other."
"And they conveniently do not know their lineages?" the father shot back. "This is but one of the problems of our sons and daughters being brought up in the empire. You have forgotten how to think like an elf."
"You make no sense, Father," sighed Tomar. "If they are not from the Elfwoods, then where are they from?"
"It is not so much a question of where they are from," the father retorted. "It is a question of why they are here."
"To steal our game?" quipped Tomar. "Surely, you cannot believe such a ridiculous tale."
"To spy on us," spat the father. "That much is obvious, but what is it they hope to learn? What have they been talking to you about?"
"Spy?" balked Tomar. "On this village? We are but seven elves when all of us are present. No spy would waste his effort on this village. Your hatred of the empire blinds you and makes you bitter to all outsiders."
"My bitterness is well earned," scowled the father. "Look at the four of us before you. We are in our twilight years, and yet there are only three of you to even remember that we once existed when we are gone. All of your older brothers and sisters were lost to the Baroukans. Their deaths should earn more than bitterness from us, but we are old and feeble and constrained by a king who does not care for his people. It is your generation that must get our people out of this bondage."
"Stop it," Tomar's mother said quietly but forcefully. "Do not urge your son to wage a senseless war. You have said that only three will remember us when we are gone. Do you wish it to be none?"
Tomar's father turned and gazed at his wife. The sparkle of love still
showed in his eyes, but his rage only abated a little.
"By the blood of ancient Prince Gordana," he swore softly, "I wish to carry forth the battle myself, but I am no longer able. I wish I had done so when I was Tomar's age, but I could not foresee what would become of the Dielderal. We are but mere sheep waiting to be culled from the flock. Is it better to die slowly at the mercy of the enemy, or to die quickly while inflicting a mortal wound on those who seek to rule over us?"
"You are an old man," replied his wife. "Your death is so near that you no longer value life. Such is not the case for Tomar and Laring. They have their whole lives ahead of them."
"That they do," retorted the father. "They will give up their children one by one and watch them die, and when they are old and feeble like me, they will espouse the same words, but they will be too weak to do anything but talk. This circle of pain and humiliation must be broken. Let it be broken now while I am still around to see it."
"I will not sit and listen to these words, Father," Tomar said as he rose to his feet. "King Elengal has personally explained to me the need to endure the hardships. An uprising would only result in the extinction of the Dielderal. I will not be a party to that."
Tomar's father glared at him. "Go then tomorrow with your wife to the Heart," he commanded. "Take the spies to the king, and let them be discovered for what they are. Perhaps that will open your eyes to the truth."
"We cannot leave you alone," objected Laring. "Who will hunt and cook for you?"
"We will tend to ourselves as we did when you were in captivity," replied Tomar's father. "I am still the head of this village, and it is my order that the two of you will escort the spies to the Heart."
Tomar and Laring walked silently away from the fire ring. The fairy that had been hiding in the shadows immediately took to the air and flew into the hut where the Alceans were staying.
"All is not happy here," reported Mite. "In the morning you will be escorted to the Heart by Tomar and Laring. Tomar's father thinks you are spies."
Final Voyage of the Remora Page 31