Path of Kings

by James Dale

  "On the contrary kinsman," the Ailfar replied. "Your gift is much stronger than mine. Some-thing I never thought I would hear myself say. Mindspeaking is the rarest of Yh's gifts. There are only six of us in all of Elvendale and I am the strongest by far. Perhaps the strongest since Princess Ailanna Bra'Adan. That you are stronger...can Mindspeak at all as a human, is truly a...wonder. There is strong blood in you family kinsman. Tell me Jack...you do not by chance know the name of the Ailfar ancestor in your line?"

  "A distant grandmother," Jack replied slowly. "From... my mother's side of the family." Then something suddenly occurred to him. Ailanna Bra'Adan was Cilidon's younger sister. Which would make her Arrinor's aunt! That...would make Arrinor his cousin! Many times removed to the sure, but his cousin nonetheless! He had found family! After being alone for so long, he had family again!

  "Perhaps in Elvendale we may find a genealogist who can uncover a name for you," Arrinor smiled. "Who knows? We may even discover we are related."

  "Now wouldn't that be something," Jack smiled.

  Traveling through time proved as boring as normal traveling. Which would not have been so terrible except the Spellweaving caused the forest to be out of focus and Jack was missing the chance to admire their passage though the Golden Wood. To offset this lost opportunity, he asked Arrinor to describe Elvendale to him as they journeyed.

  "Are you sure kinsman? I would not want to spoil your first sight of Woodhaven?" Arrinor asked.

  "But if I know what I'm looking at," Jack argued, "it will be even more impressive."

  "Very well," the prince sighed. "Where shall I begin? Elvendale is...Elvendale. There is no other place like it in the world. There are tribes in the jungles of Zsolandar who make their homes in the trees. But to compare those crude dwellings with Elvendale would be like comparing Illroc Adar to a rough timber watchtower. I do not say this as a boast or to degrade the humans of the south, it is a simple fact. There are Ahvendalia trees in Ail'itharain over ten thousand years old, five hundred feet tall, with boles fifty spans around. As many as five hundred Ailfar live in their branches. As for Woodhaven? How can I describe a living palace? Taller by half than any Ahvendalia on earthe. Home to thousand elves. It is said there are larger trees still living in the Great Eriden Forest. Trees whose branches scrape the heavens, with trunks a mile or more across. But no Ailfar has been to Erhi'da in a thousand years. I do not put much faith in such tales."

  "It sounds...amazing," Jack admitted.

  "I fear however, I am not doing Woodhaven justice," Arrinor sighed. "Tristan would be disappointed in me. He fancies I will one day consent to be his apprentice and become the first Bard-King of Ail'itharain. Ah well...I will let you judge whether I have described my home with some small degree of talent. Look. We are here."

  As he spoke, the mist surrounding the company suddenly vanished. Jack felt a slight lurch of equilibrium, somewhat akin to the heartbeat skip associated with deja vu. The forest around them, which had been distorted and out of focus since A'randraial and Cilandrion had begun their Spellweaving, sprang sharply into view as they rejoined the normal flow of time.

  "Well?" Arrinor grinned "What do you think kinsman?"

  They were on a low ridge overlooking a wide, fertile valley. Through the trees, sparse here at their new location, Jack saw a sight he would remember with pleasure for the rest of his life. Less than a mile distant, standing in a field of lush green grass waving like a rippling sea, was a golden leafed Ahvendalia soaring a thousand feet or more toward a sparkling blue sky. Elvendale. The heart of Ail'itharain. Last home to the first Children of Ail.

  "I think...I think you are wrong Arri," Jack whispered reverently.

  "Wrong? About what?"

  "About Ail'itharain not being sacred."

  The remark earned Jack a respectful nod and further elevated Arrinor's already high opinion of him.

  "Prince Arrinor," Kirk said quietly, his voice filled with awe. "That can't be a tree! It is taller than the Dragon's Fang!"

  "It certainly is Captain Vanar," Arrinor laughed. "But you do not have to take my word for it. Come, let me show you my home."

  "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to take a quick look," Cyran dead paned. "I mean...we have come all this way."

  "Just a quick look then," Jack agreed with a smile.

  After A'randraial and Cilandrion had ensured everyone was still with them, which Jack found just a bit disconcerting…Did they ever lose anyone moving back and forth through time?...the two Spellweavers motioned for the company to follow and they began to make their way down to the valley below. Before they had reached the valley floor, a mounted party could be seen riding out from the base of the towering tree to meet them.

  There were twelve people in the group, all riding on shining white stallions. Six were unmistakably warriors, easily identified by their green and brown forest garb and the swords resting on their hips. Of the others, four were just as obviously Ailfar dignitaries, marked less by their finely cut garments of blue and silver and gold, than the way they carried themselves with the air of self-importance common to all high officials, no matter what race spawned them. Judging by Arrinor's age, Jack also reasoned they could likely be ancient.

  There was also a human with them, or else he was the first elf Braedan had ever seen with black hair and a goatee. All his clothes were black as well, black silk shirt, black trousers, and black boots. The only splash of color about him was his piercing blue eyes and the dragon embroidered in red above his heart. He was either Brydium’s ambassador to Ail'itharain or the devil himself. Braedan was not sure which until the man smiled and his dark visage suddenly transformed into the friendliest face this side of your best friend. Then again? If the old Jake wanted to put you at ease, wouldn't he likely smile in just the same manner?

  It was the last member of the reception committee however, who commanded his eye, as well as the eyes of everyone else. She was an Ailfar maiden of breathtaking beauty, with flowing blonde hair falling to her waist, and green eyes that glittered like living emeralds. She looked to be no older than nineteen or twenty, but from what Jack had learned of the Ailfar today, she could just have easily been two hundred. The maiden smiled at the approaching horsemen and it was like basking in the warm glow of dawn on the first day of creation.

  "Greetings honored brothers," she smiled. "My heart rejoices at your safe return. Aydayon Elo'hoyas Theros Th'nar," she continued, turning to the king of Brydium. "It has been too long since the Dragonslayer graced the Golden Wood."

  "Too long indeed," Theros smiled warmly. "Aydayon Elo'hoyas Ti'lithuvial."

  "Sister," A'randraial interrupted with a tired sigh, "let us forego these courtesies."

  "We are weary from our Spellweaving..." Cilandrion continued.

  "...and there are wounded..."

  "...who require immediate attention."

  "Captain Beltaran," the maiden commanded.

  "I shall send for Healers at once my Lady." replied a grim faced Ailfar. Without waiting for instructions, two of the elven warriors turned their mounts and headed back towards Woodhaven at full gallop.

  "Where is Arrinor?" she continued with alarm, looking over the litter bound wounded being escorted forward by the Dragon guardsmen.

  "Here sister," the prince called out. "Have no fear. I am unharmed. She acts this way every time I return from patrol," he sighed, turning to Jack. Drawn by the Ailfar maiden's beauty, he had followed the prince unbidden. "You would think she's my mother instead fifty years my junior. When will you realize I can take care of myself Ally?"

  "Oh?" the maiden queried. "When pray tell did this happen? Was it not only four months ago Elwain carried you into Elvendale half dead with a grim'Hiru arrow in your throat? Or perhaps I am remembering some other fool-headed brother?"

  "I yield sister," Arrinor smiled. "Your fool-headed brother will return to the kitchen straight away. First allow me to introduce someone. Ailicia, this is Jack Braedan, Jack, this is Ann’ailicia An'Mera
. My self-appointed guardian and younger sister."

  "Aydayon Elo'hoyas Ti'lithuvial." Jack bowed, repeating the greeting Theros had given to the maiden. "Ti'lithuvial? It means…Morning Flower?"

  "He speaks the high tongue?" the maiden asked, regarding him curiously. "And has green eyes as well?"

  "There are more surprises to Jack Braedan than High Ailfara and green eyes." Arrinor laughed. "He is also..."

  "Honored to meet you Lady Ann’ailicia," Braedan interrupted quickly. "Arri neglected to mention he had a sister. And one so beautiful."

  "He is also courteous. For a pirate." King Theros smiled, joining them.

  "Former pirate my Lady," Jack bowed. "Now by the grace of God and his most generous servant, Theros Th'nar, also the Duke of Thonbor."

  "I beg forgiveness...your grace," the maiden corrected. "And since my older brother seems to already insist you call him Arri, you may call me Ailicia or Ally." She extended her hand to Braedan, which he took and briefly touched to his lips.

  "And you must call me Jack," he instructed the princess. "Your grace has the sound of some dotard who does nothing but sit before a warm fire and worry about what has happened to his favorite slippers."

  "Very well...Jack." Ailicia said, gracing him with a smile of such warmth his heart threatened to burst.

  "Ahem," came the sound of someone clearing his throat behind them.

  "Where are my manners?" Jack smiled. "Lady Ailicia, may I present the Golden Lions of Thonbor and their captain, Kirk Vanar."

  "My Lady," Kirk bowed, "I...I saw you when you rode through Brythond last fall, on your way to the palace for the wedding of Prince Thonicil and Countess Thessa. It was from a distance of course. I was...ummmm...but a sergeant in the Dragon Guards then. May I say...you are even more beautiful than...more beautiful..." he trailed off with embarrassment, blushing furiously as he realized the audacity of speaking to an Ailfar princess in such a forward manner.

  "Not you too captain?" Arrinor lamented.

  "Hush brother," Ailicia laughed. "A woman never tires of hearing she is beautiful. You may indeed say it captain. And thank you."

  "My Lady," Kirk bowed, blushing even redder.

  "Perhaps we'd better catch up with the others?" Arrinor muttered. "Or would you prefer to finish bewitching the rest of his grace's Lions in private?"

  "Arrinor," Ailicia sighed. "You could learn a few things from these good knights. Perhaps I will send them to tutor you in the kitchen when you are not busy scrubbing pots."

  With that the Ailfar princess turned her mount abruptly and trotted off after the rest of the company, leaving Arrinor struggling to find a suitable retort. Kirk and the Lions looked quickly at the prince, then back at Ailicia and her flowing gold locks. It was not a difficult decision. They raced off after the princess.

  "Poor fools," Arrinor whispered, then a slow smile began to form at the corner of his lips. They were not the first humans to fall under the spell of his sister's charms. Nor would they likely be the last. "Come kinsman, we'd better catch them. Kirk is already lost I'm afraid, but if we hurry perhaps, we can save some of your men. At least the appearance of my sister has softened their sorrow at Kaegel."

  "I should thank her for that. Uh, Arri, you're not really going to have to scrub pots in the kitchen are you?" Jack asked, following the prince as he hurried after his sister.

  "Of course not!" the elf snorted. "Well...maybe not the big pots."

  Theros, five of the Ailfar, and the human dressed in black had slowed when they noticed Ailicia and the others had fallen behind. When they stopped to allow them to catch up, Ailicia took the opportunity to introduce Jack and his Golden Lions to all those who'd ridden out with her. Captain Beltaran, the grim-faced leader of the warrior escort he had already heard her name. The others he soon learned were Meridion, the general of Ail'itharain's armies, Celliwic, King Cilidon's chief advisor, and Lothar and Egaenal, both members of Elvendale's High Council. At last she introduced the human member of the delegation, Sir Mandaran Thordain, Theros' Ambassador to the elven court.

  "Your grace," the dark man bowed. "I have been awaiting this day since word reached us of your rescue of the Lady Thessa. Thain and I grew up together as pages in Illroc Adar. We served side by side in the legion for twenty years. I...I would be honored to call you friend."

  "A man can never have too many friends Sir Mandaran," Jack smiled, extending his hand. "Tell me ambassador, how long have you been stationed in Elvendale?"

  "Seven years now," Mandaran replied.

  "And in those seven years...have you grown accustomed to…to all this?" Jack asked, nodding toward the beautiful valley surrounding Elvendale. Here the Elfway had become a wide boulevard of white stone. On either side of it, there were gardens of yellow and purple flowers, and off to the right was a fountain spraying a stream of water twenty feet into the air.

  "Seventy-seven years would not be enough time to grow accustomed to such splendor," the ambassador laughed. "A theory which I mean to put to the test by the way. The Creator and my gracious king willing."

  "Who would I ever get to replace you Mandy?" Theros smiled.

  "I know several who think themselves better suited for this post." Thordain replied. "Kalannor Bronhold just to name one."

  "Kal Bronhold?" the king laughed. "That hot-tempered fool would have us at war with Ail'itharain inside of three months. No. I'm afraid you must remain as my voice in Woodhaven for the time being."

  "As my lord commands," the ambassador bowed humbly. "I live but to serve."

  "You live but for the day the Lady Celandraia consents to be thy wife Sir Mandaran," Ailicia smiled.

  "Yes...there is also that," Thordain grinned.

  Those within hearing distance of the remark laughed quietly, even the grim-faced Captain Beltaran. The Lady Celandraia, a pale, willowy Ailfar noblewoman, was the exact opposite of the dark, brooding ambassador from Brydium. But to see them together was to see a bright star giving light to the deepest night. In Woodhaven, those who speculated upon such matters, were of the opinion Sir Mandaran's other reason for wishing to remain in Elvendale would not be long in coming. A union between Ailfar and human was a rare event, but it was not completely unheard of. If the Ailfar was willing to live with the knowledge they would only have a short time with their human mate. Sixty to seventy years. Short by Ailfar standards anyway.

  As the column drew near Woodhaven, several dozen Ailfar came pouring from a large opening at the base of the towering Ahvendalia. Most were younger, or at least Jack supposed they were, for the simple fact they showed far less reserve than the warriors he'd been riding with since leaving the bowl. As soon as the column came to a halt, these laughing elves began securing the company's mounts, leading them back through the opening in the tree. With them also came many more of the silver haired elves who immediately began attending to the wounded. They began issuing orders to yet even more Ailfar hovering at their sides, apprentices' no doubt, and in quick order the injured guardsmen were being ferried inside Woodhaven where they could receive proper care.

  During all this, Captain du'Gail and Sergeant Vad'dreuil had formed the remaining Dragons into orderly ranks for a hasty inspection, while Theros and Ambassador Brydain held a brief conference with Captain Beltaran, Celliwic, and the twins. The meeting concluded quickly with Theros, Celliwic and the twin marching off into Woodhaven while Ambassador Brydain came over to join Jack, Arrinor, Ailicia, and the Golden Lions.

  "Princess," Thordain bowed, "your honored brothers and King Theros go to the council hall. They humbly request you keep Duke Jack company until he is called."

  “Of course, Sir Mandaran," Ailicia replied.

  "Prince Arrinor..."

  "I know Mandy," the prince sighed. "A'rand and Cil want me at the council hall. Couldn't they make the report without me?"

  "Well highness," Mandaran smiled, "since you were war-leader on the patrol, it would probably be best if you..."

  "You were war-leader?" Aili
cia scoffed.

  "I was." Arrinor boasted. "And if I'm not too tired after scrubbing pots later, maybe I'll tell you how I saved the life of Jack Hawkfinder. Or maybe not. After the way you belittled me today..."

  "I beg thy forgiveness brother," Ailicia said quickly.

  "I'll think about it," Arrinor said haughtily. "See you in the council hall kinsman," he bowed to Jack.

  "Captain Vanar," the ambassador continued, "if you will follow me, I will show you and you men to your quarters."

  "My Lord?" Kirk asked, turning to Braedan.

  "Go on Kirk," Jack nodded. "If I'm not safe in Elvendale I'm not safe anywhere on earth."

  "Would you care to see a bit of Woodhaven while you await your summons Jack?" Ailicia inquired as everyone began to go their separate ways.

  "I would be delighted my Lady," he replied, presenting his arm to the princess. Ailicia took it with a smile and led him into the large opening at the base of the Ahvendalia.

  Once upon a time, long ago when Jack had been in California with his family on one of their infrequent vacations, his father had taken him to the Redwood National Forest. There had been trees so large one actually had a road running through it. But this...this was beyond belief! The interior at ground level was completely hollow, at least fifty yards across, and had a ceiling one hundred feet above their heads.

  "Ailicia," he whispered in awe, "this can't be...natural. Even such a large tree could not possibly survive with its trunk hollowed so."

  "No," she smiled. "This chamber was formed by Woodwrights."

  "Woodwrights?"

  "They are akin to stonemasons," the princess informed him. "Save they work with living trees, shaping the wood to suit our needs. Unlike stonemasons, who are only architects, Woodwrights are also protectors, guarding their charges against pestilence and the ravages of storms. Come I will show you their greatest achievement."

  Leading him to the nearest wall, Ailicia stretched out her hand and caressed the smooth wood, speaking quietly in a dialect of Ailfara Braedan did not understand. When the wood suddenly parted to reveal a smaller chamber about the size of a walk-in closet, he had a moment of deja vu, remembering Cil’lena and the Pool of Stars, then Ailicia was guiding him inside. The opening re-sealed with another word and they began to rise. Deja vu again.