by Terry Brooks
“Long enough. Tell me, how is Zia? I’m still hoping to meet her before I get too old to appreciate the experience.”
An awkward moment of silence followed, then Dar said, “Zia’s dead, Brec. Killed more than a week ago. Can we take this somewhere a little more private? I’m here because I need your help.”
The Elven prince flushed bright red and quickly nodded. “I’m so sorry. Come inside.”
Brecon steered him through the gates and along the pathway that led to his cottage. For long moments, neither spoke.
“I wish I’d known about Zia earlier,” Brecon said finally, giving Dar a wary look. “I feel stupid not knowing.”
Dar shook his head. “Don’t. It just happened, and I couldn’t get word to you until now.”
“Well, try not to let me make a fool of myself again. And I am truly sorry about Zia.”
“Zia’s death is part of what brought me here.”
“Whatever it was that brought you here, it will have to wait. You need to eat a good meal, take a hot bath, and sleep for about twelve hours. You look all done in.”
They passed through the front door of the cottage and into the main living space. It was neat and orderly and filled with baskets of flowers. Tapestries hung from the walls, and area rugs were scattered about the wooden floors. It was very much Brecon’s dwelling, and it gave Dar an instant sense of peace.
“I don’t know that it can wait,” he began, but Brecon was already shaking his head.
And his friend was right. Dar was completely exhausted from the events of the past few days and not much ready to do anything further in his present condition. So he ate the meal Brecon served him, took a bath, and let himself be put to bed in a corner room with the drapes drawn and the silence deep and welcoming.
“Sleep as long as you can. We’ll talk when you wake.”
Brecon went out the door and closed it behind him. By then, Dar was already drifting away.
* * *
—
When he woke, Dar had no idea what time it was. The room was shadowy and still, but there were cracks of light through the drapes that told him it was daytime. He rose immediately and went to the windows to peer out. The sun was directly overhead. Midday. He had slept a whole day.
Way too long!
Hurriedly, he washed his face and hands, dressed, and went into the living area. Brecon was nowhere to be found, so he went out the door and walked toward the palace, thinking to find him there. But he was only halfway to his destination when Brecon appeared on the path ahead.
On seeing Dar, he glanced around as if looking for someone and rushed over. “You should have waited at the cottage. How are you feeling? Better?”
“After an entire day’s rest? I would guess so.”
Brecon grinned. “Almost two days. You never woke once.”
Dar couldn’t believe it. Now he really was worried. Too much time had passed to allow for any further delay. “Has word arrived about what’s happened at Paranor?”
“So it’s true?” Brecon asked. “The Skaar found a way into Paranor? The Druid order was wiped out? The Keep is gone?”
Dar stared at him. “I wasn’t sure the Elves would have heard about it yet. Who brought word?”
Brecon did not answer, his blond head lowered, his blue eyes intense as he studied the path in front of him. “Hold that thought,” he said finally. “Follow me.”
They walked over to the palace, detouring to the far end where the reception rooms were located. Once there, Brecon led the way inside, his long stride lengthening as they drew closer to the building’s south wing, nodding to the guards as they passed but saying nothing. At one point, Dar heard voices from down the hallway, and Brecon put a finger to his lips at once. Moving more quickly now, he took Dar into a room at the end of a hallway and from there into another room beyond, each time pausing to close and lock the doors behind them. Dar was looking around guardedly now, sensing that something was wrong.
“Not to worry,” Brecon reassured him as he secured the second door and motioned to a grouping of chairs. Together they seated themselves, facing each other across a small, round table. Brecon glanced at a sideboard. “Let me get you something to drink. Is a glass of ale all right?”
Without waiting for a response, he filled glasses from a cask concealed in a cold box and carried them back to the table. There was a furtiveness about him, an uneasiness that told Dar something was definitely not right. But he held his tongue and waited for his friend to reveal it in his own time.
When Brecon was seated again, he raised his glass. “Health and good fortune.” They drank deeply and returned their glasses to the table. “Are they all gone?” Brecon asked, then. “All of the Druids? Everyone who lived at Paranor but you?”
“Almost.” Dar leaned forward. “I’ll explain everything, but first tell me how you know so much about this.”
The Elven prince made a face. “I was helping my father earlier this morning when he learned of it. Not an hour ago, while he was preparing for the morning Council meeting. My brothers were elsewhere. I was the only one present when word arrived.”
“But who delivered it?”
Brecon hesitated. “Well, that part is a little strange. She says she is a princess of something called the Skaar.”
Dar stared in disbelief. “You mean Ajin d’Amphere? She brought word herself?”
“Walked right in and told my father. Said she wanted us to hear it first from her.”
Dar could not believe it—but then it was exactly the sort of impulsive, reckless chance she would take, confident that she could somehow walk into the lion’s den and not be harmed.
“I couldn’t believe it, either,” Brecon agreed, seeing the look on his friend’s face. “And she’s with him now, addressing the High Council.”
* * *
—
Not quite two hundred yards away, in a building that sat apart from the royal palace, the members of the Elven High Council were gathered in their assembly listening to Ajin d’Amphere explain what her people had done to the Druids and to Paranor. Gerrendren Elessedil, the Elven king, sat at the head of an oval table with five members of the Council seated to his right and five to his left.
And the looks of mingled shock and wariness mirrored on their faces were both priceless and gratifying.
Ajin was dressed in full Skaar regalia—white silk robes and scarlet accessories. Her weapons and armor had been abandoned, and she stood with her back straight and her head lifted as she spoke. She had appeared before foreign dignitaries and their councils many times before, and she knew that the secret to success lay in showing no concern for her safety and no hesitation in admitting her purpose. She knew she must convince them from the start that she was in command of the situation and its outcome, keeping her explanations spare and to the point, careful not to overemphasize or understate. She must never threaten or attempt to intimidate, but lay out her reasons with care.
When she had finished and stood waiting, there was a long silence. She resisted the urge to look over her shoulder to the grim-faced Home Guards, who stood behind her like expressionless statues. Unlike her, they bore swords and knives. But she didn’t regret her choice to forgo weapons. She knew the nature and reputation of her audience. Coming armed would have sent the wrong message. Any sort of confrontation at this juncture would have been disastrous.
Finally, Gerrendren Elessedil shifted on his throne and shook his head. “You are bold to come to us with this tale, Princess,” he said quietly. “Bold, and perhaps a bit foolish.”
“Should I fear for my safety?” she demanded in reply. She was already calculating how many she would have to kill to reach the door leading out of the assembly. Quite a few, she thought.
“You’ve just admitted to wiping out the entire Druid order and you don’t think we might be be
tter off ridding ourselves of you before your soldiers come after us, as well?”
“You are not in any danger unless you intend to attack us, King Gerrendren. Our arrival in the Four Lands is not intended as a threat to you or your people. All we seek is a home for our endangered population waiting back in Eurodia. Make no mistake. We are facing extinction. We cannot remain where we are. If those Troll tribes and the Druids hadn’t threatened us first, we would not have had to destroy them. But they did, so we protected ourselves—as I am sure you would do if the Federation, for instance, decided to attack you.”
She used an example she was certain would resonate. Thanks to Kol’Dre’s valuable information, she knew the history of these lands and their peoples. The Federation had, in fact, attacked the Elves on more than one occasion over the centuries, seeking to subdue or at least dominate them. This had been a part of their history with other nations, as well, for as far back as anyone could remember.
“So, you mean us no harm?” one of the Council members asked. “You expect us to believe we are safe from you?”
“As it happens,” she said, “I’ve come to ask for your help.”
It wasn’t quite the truth, but it was not a big enough lie that she couldn’t speak the words. She watched as the Council members exchanged uncertain glances.
“You’ve managed well enough without us so far,” the king observed. “You seem a very capable young lady. And your soldiers seem a seasoned and well-trained unit. It’s hard to believe you require help from anyone. What, exactly, are you looking for?”
“The Skaar are a strong and determined people, and we fully expect to succeed in our efforts to make a home here. But the bulk of our army, although it is on its way, has not yet arrived. My advance force has established a foothold and thereby demonstrated our determination to remain. We do not seek to dislodge those already living in these lands. We only seek a place for our own people. The Druids were a selfish, disorganized order that thought only of themselves. They were charged to be protectors of the land’s magic, yet they squabbled and sniped at one another and did very little to aid those who were supposedly under their protection. I know this was not always true, but things had changed recently within their order. It became a sickness they could not survive. Am I not right?”
A handful of the Council members nodded, but the king shook his head. “An oversimplification, Princess. But let’s get to the point. I am encouraged by your words, but not persuaded. It is easy enough to promise one thing while intending to deliver another. It has happened to the Elves on past occasions—and more times than I care to remember. So why should I believe it would be different with the Skaar? What proof do you offer that might persuade me?”
She nodded, acknowledging his reasoning in a small act of deference. She knew how she appeared to him, and she was using that. She was young and beautiful and seemingly vulnerable, standing there in her silken robes, unarmed and presenting no discernible threat. She could have been his granddaughter and seemed little more than a supplicant. Her candor and apparent lack of guile were disarming and encouraging. Gerrendren Elessedil and this Council believed themselves in command of the situation, and she made no attempt to persuade them otherwise. She was there at their sufferance and stood before them at their mercy.
But these were the Elves, after all, and of all the Races that occupied a place in the Four Lands, none was more honorable or fair-minded than they. Their entire history had proved it. They were an ancient people who had come out of centuries of hiding at the conclusion of the Great Wars in order to lead civilization back from the brink of extinction, and they had demonstrated their worth as leaders and healers. They were wedded to the care and maintenance of the land and its peoples. And as much as they were capable of fighting for what they believed necessary, they were children of the earth first and foremost. Their moral code was strong and their adherence to it deeply ingrained.
“I have only my words to persuade you, High King. I have only myself. So I will lay my situation and my intent before you for your examination. Then you will decide for yourself. May I continue?”
Ask his permission. Always demonstrate deference first before seeking a favor.
He nodded. “Please do, Princess.”
“I am here with a thousand members of the Skaar army—minus those who perished in battle since our arrival. With the passing of the Druids, I have performed a service to the Federation and its hierarchy—one which they sought and approved. I asked them myself before I set my soldiers and myself on our path to Paranor if they would agree to let me face the Druids alone and promise not to interfere. They agreed readily enough because they hated the Druids and wanted them gone. I acted with their approval and tacit support. But now that is changing.”
For the first time, she had deliberately lied. But she looked squarely at the faces of her audience, taking her time, her expression revealing no trace of her deception. “There are those within the Federation who would like the Elves gone, as well. I expect this does not come as a surprise to you. But before that happens, they intend to eliminate us. Though we do not threaten them—though we have no intention of intruding into the Southland regions—they fear us. Already, they are preparing to dispatch a large force to intercept us where we are encamped just north of the Mermidon. Once again, we will be forced to defend ourselves. Once again, there will be no attempt at a meaningful negotiation.”
None of this was necessarily true yet, but it would be soon enough if her plans unfolded as she intended.
“Surely, you cannot know this,” one of the Ministers interjected quickly.
“I can, and I do.” Ajin did not hesitate in her reply. “As I indicated, we have been scouting the Four Lands and its people for several years. We have learned of the Federation’s desire to dominate the other Races. It will be no different with the Skaar. The Federation will try to wipe us out. They see us as dangerous—especially now that we have eliminated the Druids. So they will eliminate us, as well.”
She paused. “But here is something you don’t know. With the Druids now gone from the Four Lands, the Federation intends to abolish all magic. They will demand that you give over your talismans and your Elfstones and all the rest for safekeeping and cease all practice of magic in any form. If you refuse, they will declare war on you, as well.”
Immediately there was a terrible uproar—a cacophony of dismay and anger. Everyone began shouting, saying it would never happen, decrying the duplicity and arrogance of the Southland government. Ajin left them to it, delighted by their response. She did not try to interrupt them; she simply waited for order to return.
What she had told them was true enough, although not quite the imminent threat she had suggested. The Federation did want magic stamped out, but they did not necessarily anticipate forcing the Elves to comply. But it was a reasonable assumption that with the Druids gone, they would look very hard at some form of action that would achieve this result.
The king quieted the Council members, standing to emphasize his displeasure with their outburst, lifting his arms to gesture for compliance as he shouted them down, motioning for those who had risen to sit once more.
“Ministers, please remember yourselves! We have a duty to act responsibly. We are not animals that strike out in response to every slight or threat. We are men and women of reason, and we think things through and then act. Let it be so here.” He turned to Ajin. “Princess.”
She gave him a low bow. “High King,” she acknowledged.
“You are certain of this?”
“I would not be here otherwise.”
“Nonetheless, I will seek confirmation from other sources. Your accusations are very serious. Meanwhile, tell the High Council and myself exactly what it is you are asking from us.”
Ajin straightened. “What I once asked from the faithless Federation government, my lord: an agreement not to interfere in
whatever takes place in the forthcoming confrontation between the Skaar and the Southland. Let it happen as it will, but do not intercede. Give no aid to the Federation. Give no aid to us, either—unless, of course, you determine that our cause merits it. In return, we will promise not to intrude into Elven territory in our quest for a new land for our people and to be a good friend to our Elven neighbors.”
There was a guarded murmuring among the Ministers. Gerrendren Elessedil rose quickly. “Please step out into the hallway, Princess. We will discuss this among ourselves and then advise you of our decision. Our full consideration will be given to your request.”
Ajin bowed and turned away. She had done what she could. With the Elven Home Guards as her escort, she departed the room.
NINE
Dar Leah’s face was flushed with outrage. “Are you telling me Ajin d’Amphere has been allowed to speak to the Elven High Council?”
Brecon shrugged. “It wasn’t my decision. It was my father’s, and I couldn’t very well tell him not to hear her out when both he and the High Council wanted details about Paranor and the Druids.”
Dar slowly sat down again. “Surely the Elves knew about the Skaar invasion beforehand? They must have known about the Troll tribes the Skaar wiped out.”
“We knew, but not because of the Druids, Dar.”
“You mean there hasn’t been any communication about this between the Druids and the Elves? The Ard Rhys didn’t send you a message or ask what you knew or anything?”
Brecon held up both hands to signal a stop to the discussion, then rose and walked over to the storage cabinet that held the ale. He filled a pitcher, then returned and poured generous amounts into both their glasses, which had somehow gone empty.
“Things aren’t as simple as you might like.” The prince was seated again, and he took a long pull of his ale. “In fact, they are much more complicated.”