by Nicole Burr
“Esra?” Baelin called loudly as he burst from the door, followed by Nadia and Arland. They rushed over to her and bent down, examining her as if she were about to perish from The Cough.
“I’m fine now, really. Just got a bit too excited or something,” she mumbled, brushing off their offers to help her stand. The nausea was subsiding, although her body was now covered in a cold sweat. She glanced at the Prince, who had moved to the side once her Assembly had arrived.
“Jumping jig, Es,” Arland stated proudly. “Nice Gift.”
“Oh, yes. Well, I guess so. I’m not quite sure what it does. Renewed energy? I was kind of hoping fer a sword that wouldn’t miss when I swung it or the ability to fly. But I guess some extra energy is fine.”
“Some extra energy?” Arland asked incredulously. “Some extra energy? Is that all ye think that is? Bumbling Huckfly! Do ye know what kind of a Gift that is?”
“It’s true,” Nadia agreed. “That is an amazing Gift. Ye have to understand that usually when a Keeper receives a Gift it’s fer their use alone. On rare occasions it is something that can be used fer yer Assembly. But to have something to use fer an entire army, now that’s powerful.”
“But did he say I could use it fer an army?”
“Yerself and all who fight with ye, to be exact,” Arland explained. “That means that if yer fighting a battle, everyone on yer side will be included. It could help thousands.”
“Oh,” Esra acknowledged sheepishly. Prince Bronnen stood patiently off to the side, unsure of if he should take his leave. “Thank ye, Prince Bronnen, err, Yer Highness.”
“My pleasure, Esra Keeper of Peace.” He swept her a quick bow and hesitated for a moment, looking as if he intended to speak further, but then turned and started back towards the Great Hall.
As soon as he was out of sight, Nadia leaned in close to Esra. “Oh, dear. I think that I might pretend to faint just so he can carry me off somewhere.”
“I’m tellin’ Fynn,” Arland teased.
“He is…handsome,” Esra admitted shyly. “I didn’t think that a Prince would look like that.”
“Well, what’d ye think he would look like?” Arland laughed as he helped her to her feet. “An old Vernok?”
“I don’t know. I just didn’t think he’s look like that.”
“How are ye feeling?” Nadia looked her over with concern.
“Better.”
“Let’s get back to our dwelling, ye can lay down fer a bit. Arland will go tell yer parents yer alright, they’re worried but wanted to give ye some space. If ye feel alright later, Baelin and Arland can give ye a lesson on magick this evening before the feast.”
“I’m fine,” Esra insisted, dusting off her skirt. Looking around for Baelin, it was only then that she noticed he was already gone.
XXXVIII
Baelin showed up for their lesson an hour late and sat quietly while Arland spoke about influence magick. Not that Baelin’s being quiet was anything new, but Esra couldn’t help but feel uneasy about his silence. It was too purposeful, not like the natural pensiveness she was used to. But Arland’s charm seemed to soothe her nerves enough and after a while she went back to focusing on her lesson.
That night Esra ate dinner with her parents in the Hall, where she told them the full story of their journey to Fira Nadim and back. Her father’s face showed emotion at every turn; surprise, fear, anger, while Talitha’s demeanor remained fairly constant, although she asked questions here and there.
After dinner, Nadia asked her how things were going with her parents. “Are ye feeling any more comfortable with them yet?”
“It is getting a little easier to be in their presence, now that the initial shock of their existence has worn off,” Esra admitted. “Not comfortable yet, but easier. Talitha is harder to read than Adonis, though she is very kind and gentle. My father is like an open book, sharing his thoughts and feelings without reservation, but my mother seems more inclined to privacy. Nevertheless, I can’t forget my first night here and the woman who allowed herself to cry upon seeing her long lost daughter.”
That night Cane called Esra and her Assembly to his personal chamber, which was piled high with shelves upon shelves of books and oversized reading chairs, not unlike his house in Sorley. Indicating that she should take a seat directly across from him as he began packing his pipe, Esra happily recalled their spirited lessons not so very long ago. She tried not to think too much of the aching loneliness she still felt being away from her grandparents.
“I’m glad everyone is here,” Cane began solemnly, rubbing his balding head. “We may need yer help with the War Council.”
“Are we supposed to attend?” Esra ventured a guess.
“No, no one outside of the eleven leaders may attend, with the exception of Linae, who is in training.” He leaned forward to tap his pipe briskly on the side of the table, looking in and tapping it again. He repeated this process in silence a few more times as Esra tried not to show her impatience.
“Ah, yes.” Cane relaxed back into his chair after a final tapping, apparently satisfied. “As I was saying, we may need yer help. Although ye cannot attend the Council meetings, I think that ye still have a fair amount of influence over the members. We need yer help to unite them in any way ye can.”
“Unite the War Council?” Esra was slightly relieved. At least there were no swords or Valkors involved. “Well, that can’t be too hard. What happens at a War Council anyway? I imagine just some lengthy meetings and long-winded speeches, if ye’ll beg my pardon. I know that there have been deep seated resentments among the races, but how can they stand apart in a time like this, when the right path is so glaringly obvious? What more could we do?”
“Well, that’s a valiant viewpoint to have, but utterly wrong, I’m afraid. As to what ye can do to help, believe me when I say that it’s no small undertaking to unite these races. In fact, some say it may be impossible, given these times. The walls that have been built between the races over the last generations will not crumble easily. War Councils are difficult even when everyone is in relative harmony. Each person has a certain set of beliefs, and the beliefs of the people they represent. Different ideas on how and when things should be done. And there are some times ye will find they are simply unwilling to negotiate. The Elders are divided in their sentiments, the Prince is sympathetic but faces limited resources, namely a lack of trained soldiers, and the Unni-se, well…Zakai will be difficult. Ye won over his favor in a duel, and he led the defense of Wilspry, but don’t think fer a moment that his cooperation extends much beyond coming here. That was all he had promised, after all. But ye’ve all fought beside him, and ye have gained more of his trust than anyone else here, besides myself and the other Great Keepers. And while he may respect us, trust is another matter. The Daughter of the Shendari seems to be the only one capable and willing to forge an alliance, but only time will tell.”
“But how can LeVara possibly face Tallen divided?” Esra interjected. “If we don’t come together all will be lost. We cannot fight this war alone.”
“That is precisely what ye must make them see. Trust me, it will take all of the skill and wit in yer Assembly’s possession. And mine.”
Everyone was gloomily quiet leaving Cane’s chambers and the silence extended on the walk back to their dwellings. It pained her to think that all their hard work may be for naught. Esra had a hard time getting to sleep that night, plagued with worry over their new assignment. And Meshok had decided to sleep at the foot of her bed, which was hardly comfortable even with its generous size. Esra absentmindedly petted her friend’s stomach with her foot.
“How can we get people that have not mingled fer hundreds of years to agree upon something so important in so little time? Arland told me that the limit on a War Council is eleven days, representing one fer each of the members. After that a decision has to be made and a vote taken. It’s like one moment I believe with confidence that they will have to see the truth it’s s
o plain. But then the next my mind is filled with dread that this will be much harder than that, and I’m as unprepared as trying to fight an Elite with an Acorn.”
Meshok murmured in either agreement or pleasure over the belly rubbing, and Esra tossed and turned into the night. After a troubled sleep, she rose earlier than usual at the first hint of the orange glow of morning, exhausted from the restless night. She pulled on her pants and cloak, figuring she may as well go to the Council Hall and see if anyone was already there.
Her steps echoed on the dark blue marble floor as she entered the foyer to the Great Hall. Finding it empty, she took a seat on a bench against one of the walls, unsure if she should wait or try to find the rest of her Assembly. Deciding she was too restless to sit and wait, Esra got up to leave but was halted by the sound of footsteps coming down the corridor.
Suddenly nervous at the anticipation of meeting a Council member alone, she had a panicked moment trying to decide whether she could sneak out and pretend she never heard anyone approaching. She did not have long to scold herself as a figure stepped out into the Sunlit foyer.
A small gasp escaped Esra’s lips as she looked at the… woman…across from her. If woman was the right word. The figure in front of her made a motion like a bow as Esra stood frozen. Although it resembled the structure of a Human, the being was only about three feet tall, practically half of Esra’s height. Her body was covered in a hardened type of flesh resembling Fish scales in varying hues of dark orange and hints of red. There was not a speck of hair anywhere on her body, nor was she wearing clothes, and all her facial features seemed to lie flat on her face. There were no ears that Esra could see, but there were two small black eyes and a Human-like mouth. Three small slits where the nose should be flared very subtly at each breath. Intuitively Esra understood that this was her. This was the Daughter.
Attempting to recover her composure, Esra was finally able to make an awkward bow towards the Shendari woman. She opened her mouth in greeting but a strange gargling sound came out instead. “Grrrsshhhiiimmmfflllaa.”
Now it was the Daughter’s turn to be surprised. Then again Esra was not sure what surprise would look like on a Shendari face. Or any other expression for that matter.
“Hello, I am Shakti.” Although those words are what translated in Esra’s mind, the noise that came from the Daughter was the same gurgling sounds she had just made. Was it possible that Esra understood the Shendari language?
“Bbbuurrvveerraannn eeesssrraa.” What was going on? Had she heard Fynn speak this before? She didn’t think so, but her mind was still sluggish with shock.
“Pleased to meet you, Esra.”
Rooted to her spot, she stared at Shakti in disbelief. The orange-red woman came towards her with small elegant steps and took Esra’s hand in hers. “You speak Shendari very well, Esra Keeper of Peace. I did not know.”
“Wwhheeyy Ppphhaayylloonnnqquu.” Me neither.
Shakti smiled largely and made a sound like trickling Water that seemed to be her way of laughing. Esra thought back to her lessons with Cane, trying to remember what he had said about the Shendari. They were orange when newly hatched and grow darker red with age, which meant that this Daughter seemed to be fairly young. They were also practically immortal, so age might be irrelevant. They are a community driven people who do not have a natural leader, unless it is a time of war. The women are the warriors and men do not go to battle. What else? Oh, and their language is virtually indecipherable to the Human ear. Which meant that Esra definitely should not be able to talk to one.
They were interrupted by the entrance of Nor, who swept in quickly and quietly, giving a garbled greeting towards Shakti. They stood and exchanged muddled conversation for a moment as if Esra were not there, until the Great Keeper of Strength turned to her with surprise.
“So, you speak Shendari quite well Shakti tells me.”
“Umm…well I guess so. I mean I wouldn’t really know, I’ve never spoken it before. I thought that Humans weren’t able to understand it?”
“Usually they can’t, only in very rare cases. All of the Elves can speak it in moderation, although the Great Keepers and Fynn are probably the most fluent. I guess it is another Gift you have, and a very unusual and precious one at that. Now if you’ll excuse us, we must head to the Council Room to begin preparation for our first day of discussions.” Nor nodded at Esra pleasantly and walked with the small orange figure towards the door. Shakti turned to give Esra a shy smile before disappearing into the Council Room.
Walking back towards the bench in stunned silence, she fell heavily into the seat, grateful for the hard stone to support her. Glancing up to see Fynn walk into the foyer, she met the curious look on his face with a blank stare.
“Dumbfounded by my beauty, I see. Don’t worry, it happens te ye all.” He plopped down next to her and gave her leg a playful swat. “Trouble sleeping? I did as well. Almost thought about going te see yer father about knocking me out with a turnip.”
“Aye, I had a hard night,” Esra laughed quietly, trying to shake herself from her stupor. “I just met the Daughter. And found out that I can speak Shendari.”
“Speak Shendari? Jumping jig, Es,” he whistled loudly through his teeth. “What did ye say?”
“Just hello and my name. Oh, and that I didn’t know I could speak her language. It’s funny though, I can’t remember any of the words now, but they were so clear when she was standing in front of me. Is it like that with ye?”
“No. But ye have te remember that my first Gift was the Ring of Tongues. What a conundrum. Ye seem to be full of those, my dear Es. Either way, Shakti is an impressive woman, three feet tall or no. I was glad te see that she was the one chosen.”
“I agree. She seemed…kind. I’m not quite sure why, but she did.”
“Aye, she has a gentle nature. Except on the battle field. Definitely don’t get in her way then or ye’ll be sorry,” he shivered dramatically. “Well, there’s not much we can do here, seeing as how we can’t actually get into the Council Room. Baelin and I were discussing last night how we think it may be useful te find some information on past Councils, see if there is anything helpful. We were going te meet in the Library after breakfast. Care te come?”
“Sure. Not much else I can think of to do.”
Arland and Nadia joined Fynn and Esra for a quick meal of Oats and Berries before they all made their way across the foyer to the Library. Walking past the rows and rows of dark bookshelves, they found Baelin waiting at the back of the room by the large stone fireplace. He was so involved in what he was reading that he barely noticed as they approached the round wooden table.
“Find anything?” Arland asked, sliding tiredly into the seat beside the blacksmith.
“Not yet,” Baelin mumbled, looking up briefly.
“What exactly are we looking fer?” Esra inquired as she peered into the thick dusty volume with small print that lay open on the table.
“Well, anything relating te prior Councils,” Baelin answered. “We were hoping that maybe there is some evidence of prior disagreements. War Councils were held often enough, usually te decide in defending some part of LeVara against an outside Kingdom or peoples. Or sometimes te intervene in skirmishes within the Kingdom. It’s not likely that they were always in agreement. So maybe if we can find out how they handled their differences back then it will help us te know what te do now.”
“That and there’s not much else we can do directly since none of us are allowed in the Council Room,” Arland admitted. “So we are going to have to wait fer the scarce opportunities when they are not meeting. The attendees will probably be in session from dawn till Sundown every day, so they will be tired. This means that we should probably make what we have to say powerful, short, and to the point. We will have limited time to make our argument, so we need to make it good.”
“Alright, then. What books do we need?” Esra asked, scanning the countless volumes lining the rows upon rows of shelves.
“I already have some here,” Baelin pointed to three dirty, large stacks of books on the table. “These are the accounts from all the War Councils that have ever taken place at the Stronghold.”
“There have been that many?” She stared incredulously at the heavy volumes. “So who wrote them all?”
“Err…it’s not really a who,” Arland explained. “One of the Great Keepers simply casts an influence spell over a pen and it takes an account of everything by itself as the meeting is conducted.”
“Oh.” Esra tried to imagine a phantom pen swirling about on parchment like a ghost while it wrote down everything that was being said. “How strange. I wish I had known about this spell when Cane had me writing scrolls upon scrolls during my studies.”
“Indeed. Arland and Fynn, ye stay here with me te start going through these,” Baelin delegated. “Nadia and Esra, see if ye can find anything outside of the meeting records that could be helpful.”
“Well, I’m not sure what we’ll find or where it will be, so I think that going row by row will be easiest,” Nadia turned to Esra as the men took a seat. “Would ye prefer I use the ladder first?”
Esra looked up at the rolling ladders four times her height that bordered the room. “No, I’ll start with the top row and maybe we can switch after a while.”
“Deal.”
For the rest of the day Nadia and Esra scanned the titles of books in the history, philosophy and poetry sections. A few names had appeared promising, but upon further investigation it was clear that whatever was in these pages was not what they needed. By the time their growling stomachs alerted them it was far past lunch, they made their way towards the back of the room, eager to see if the rest of their Assembly had better luck.