“As you wish,” said Aedan. He swept his borrowed sword out to the side and bowed to her, then turned and left the practice ring to sit by Michael while another opponent, an elf, stepped up to take his place.
“I think you have annoyed her,” Michael said as Aedan sat down on a log beside him.
“Better that I cause her some annoyance than an injury,” said Aedan.
“We are guests here, and I do not need to shore up my pride or endanger our position by besting a female in a practice match.”
“You may be rating yourself too highly, and her not highly enough,”
Michael replied as he watched Sylvanna cross swords with her next opponent. “She knows what she’s about.”
As other elves watched, they moved around each other inside the practice circle. Each held a dagger in one hand and a sword in the other. They used no shields, and the blades were sharp. Sylvanna’s new opponent did not share Aedan’s hesitancy about engaging her. He darted in quickly and did not hold back in the least. The blades clanged against each other, and the daggers flashed, steel striking upon steel; then both combatants sprang apart and started circling once again.
Aedan frowned as he watched the contest. “Someone will get hurt if they keep that up,” he murmured. “The blades are unprotected, and they are not even wearing full armor.”
“That does not seem to cause them much concern,” Michael replied, his gaze intent on the circling combatants.
Aedan shook his head as he watched them engage, blades flashing, then spring apart again. “It is foolhardy to take such risks,” he said.
“What are they trying to prove?”
“Perhaps they are not trying to prove anything,” said Michael without taking his eyes off the match inside the ring. “The intent may simply be to recreate the conditions of real combat as closely as possible.”
“Which increases the possibility of a very real injury,” said Aedan.
Even as he spoke, Sylvanna parried an attacking stroke, deflected a knife blade with her own, pivoted, and brought her sword around in a tight arc, opening a cut on her opponent’s upper arm. He gasped, and Aedan sprang to his feet as he saw the blood flow.
“Well struck!” the male elf said, and bowed to his opponent.
Sylvanna inclined her head toward him, acknowledging the compliment, but displaying no alarm or even any regret over having wounded him.
“Let me help you,” Aedan said. “I have healing ability.”
The elf simply shrugged. “It is of no consequence,” he said. “A minor cut is all it is. It will remind me to keep more on my toes the next time. But I thank you for your offer, just the same.”
Aedan stared at him as he walked away. What sort of people were these elves? The way they had been going at each other with no protection other than steel breastplates, one of them could easily have been seriously wounded, even killed. However, he saw what Sylvanna had meant when she stated without rancor that he had provided her no challenge. He had held back, because she was a girl, but now he saw that Michael had been absolutely right.
He had rated himself too highly and her not highly enough. She was better than he was. Much better.
He watched as another opponent moved into the ring to take her on.
Sylvanna stretched a few times and swung her blade about, then took her stance.
She was about as tall as Aedan, with a typically elvish build-wiry and lean. However, her shoulders were broader than those of most young women Aedan had known, and the muscles of her back gave her a figure that tapered to her narrow waist. Like her brother, Sylvanna had long black hair streaked with silver highlights. She had gathered it in a ponytail for weapons practice, to keep it out of the way.
Elven women were not buxom as human females often tended to be, and Sylvanna was no exception.
She was long limbed and small breasted, but Aedan did not find that unattractive. Sylvanna was not as voluptuous as Laera, but she moved with the smooth litheness of a cat, and Aedan liked the way she bore herself.
He was surprised to find himself suddenly comparing her with Laera.
They were completely unalike in almost every way. Laera was beautiful, while
Sylvanna was merely pretty at best, and took no pains at all to enhance her appearance. Laera was flirtatious and seductive; Sylvanna was unassuming and direct. Laera was soft, with smoldering dark eyes; Sylvanna was lean and muscular, with striking gray eyes so light that they seemed like cut crystal.
But as he found himself comparing the two, Aedan realized Laera was found wanting.
The clang of steel against steel filled the clearing as the two opponents circled each other in the practice ring. The elves who waited their turn at practice, or simply watched, clapped their hands and called out encouragement at well-struck blows. If he hadn’t known better, Aedan might have thought the two were fighting in earnest.
However, as he watched, he realized they took care to aim no cuts or blows at the face or neck, or at the legs. The target areas were the protected chest and the unprotected arms and shoulders, but any cuts aimed at the latter were carefully controlled. The blades were lighter than those used by most humans, and consequently quicker in action. A first cut ended the combat, but it was clearly not the object of the exercise. The idea was simply to penetrate the opponent’s defense. A light hit upon the steel breastplate was counted as a killing stroke and ended the match.
Sylvanna was not the only female who came to practice. Among humans, females did not generally participate in combat. Sometimes tomboys like Ariel played at war while they were young, but as they grew older, they usually followed more ladylike pursuits. Among the elves, things were apparently quite different. The women trained along with the men, and though most of them would have lacked the upper body strength to wield broadswords effectively, they seemed equally adept with the men in the use of the lighter, faster elvish blades.
Sylvanna defeated her second opponent with a touch to his breastplate, and he saluted her in acknowledgment as the next opponent stood up to take his place. Aedan marveled at Sylvanna’s strength and endurance.
A short, unsatisfactory, aborted match with him, then two matches with full-grown male opponents, and she hadn’t even cracked a sweat. She used the blade as if it were a part of her and was clearly commanding of respect among her peers.
“I would not have thought a woman could fight as well as that,” said Michael as he watched her with admiration. “She is at least the equal of the best swordsman in the house guard.”
“Yes, she is very good, indeed,” Aedan agreed, nodding emphatically.
“After watching her, I feel foolish for holding back. On my best day, I would stand no chance against her.”
“The lesson here, I think, is not to underestimate a female just because she is a female,” Michael said.
He glanced at Aedan and grinned. “I should have thought you would have learned that one before, with Ariel.”
Aedan scowled. “Apparently, I shall never hear the end of that,” he said. “If it weren’t for you, I might have been paying closer attention that day.”
“You mean it was all my fault?” asked Michael innocently. “It wasn’t my shield she hooked, nor was it my skull she nearly cracked.”
“As I recall, it was someone else’s skull that was very nearly cracked,”
replied Aedan dryly.
“Yes, well, I will concede that we both took our share of lumps that day,” said Michael with a grin.
Sylvanna finished her third match by beating her opponent, scoring a light cut on his forearm. They saluted one another, and both left the practice ring.
As two other fighters took their places, Sylvanna came back to where the two boys were sitting. There was a slight flush on her face from her exertions, but otherwise, she looked none the worse for wear.
Aedan had grown tired merely watching her.
“I owe you an apology,” he said as she came up. “I held back because you we
re a woman, but even at my best, I would have proved a poor match for you.”
“Well, you are young yet,” she replied. “Doubtless, if you practice diligently, your skills will improve with time, as mine have.”
Aedan frowned. “You cannot be much older than I.”
THu IBON THRONE
Sylvanna curiously cocked her head at him. “I don’t know. How old are you? It’s difficult to tell with humans.”
“I am eighteen,” he replied.
“Ah. Well, I am somewhat older.”
“Indeed? You do not look it.”
“Let me think….” she said, frowning slightly. “By human reckoning, I believe I would be in my fifties.”
Aedan’s jaw dropped. “Yourfifties?” he said with disbelief.
“By elven standards, I am still a mere child,” she replied with a smile.
“And most of the people you saw practicing today were younger still.”
“You said ‘by human reckoning,”’ said Michael as they started walking back to Gylvain’s home. “Do elves reckon time differently?”
“It is not that we reckon time differently,” Sylvanna replied, “for being immortal, the reckoning of time does not concern us as much as it does you. But the difficulty lies in the fact that time often passes differently for us than for humans.”
Aedan frowned. “How can that be?”
“I cannot say,” Sylvanna replied with a shrug. “I once asked my brother that same question, but he was not able to account for it, either. It seems no one can. But in the elven lands, time appears to pass differently for humans. What may seem like a few hours to you while you are in Tuarhievel may actually be days on the outside, and what may pass for weeks while you are here may actually be years in human lands. This effect on humans seems to increase the longer they remain with us, so it is difficult for us to reckon time in your terms.
At best, we can but estimate its passage.”
“You mean that if we remain here for a week or so, a year or more may pass back in the empire?” asked Michael with astonishment.
“It is possible,” Sylvanna said, “though by no means certain as far as anyone can tell. We once had a human trader remain with us for several weeks, studying our crafts. when he returned to his village beyond the Black River, he discovered that eight years had passed, and everyone had thought him dead. On the other hand, when traders have remained with us for only a few days, there has been no noticeable difference when they returned, except for one man, who found that he returned a mere hour after he had left.”
“It sounds like magic!” Michael said.
“Perhaps it is,” Sylvanna replied. “Gylvain seems to think so. He believes something happens when enough elves gather together in one place, but he cannot say how or why. It may have to do with our being immortal, or with the way we practice magic, or perhaps there is some other reason. Anyway, no one knows for sure what causes it.”
“So then the longer we remain here, the more likely that a great length of time will pass back in the empire?” Aedan asked in a worried tone.
“That would appear to be the case,” Sylvanna said.
“Then the longer we remain here, the more time Lord Arwyn has to strengthen his position, if I understand correctly,” Aedan said with concern. “I did not realize this before. why didn’t someone tell us this?”
Sylvanna shrugged. “Doubtless because you did.
not ask. But there is no reason for alarm: there is a way this effect may be counteracted. My brother explained to me once.
It is not without some risk, of course, but it has been the way your message has been sent back to Anuire.”
“How?” asked Aedan.
“Through the Shadow World,” Sylvanna said. “A halfling took your message back to the capital city of your empire. In this same manner, when it is time for you to leave, a halfling guide will take us. He will open up a portal to the Shadow World and we shall travel through it to reemerge into the world of daylight at another place and time.”
“You said, ‘a halfling guide will take us,”’ Aedan said. “Will you be coming along with an escort to take us back?”
“No, I shall be returning with you,” she replied.
“Gylvain and I are both going with you to Anuire.
Prince Fhileraene wishes to be kept apprised of how events unfold back in the empire.”
“You mean he wants someone with us to look after his interests,” Aedan said.
“Does that seem unreasonable to you?” she asked.
“No,” Aedan replied, “of course not. We owe Tuarhievel much, our lives included, though it is your brother who personally holds that debt as far as I’m concerned. But even if that were not so, I would still be pleased to know you were going back with us.” He blushed, then quickly added, “The both of you, that is.”
“I am looking forward to it,” said Sylvanna. “I have lived all of my life in the Aelvinnwode and never been outside Tuarhievel. I would like to see the human world and find out what it is like.”
“It is different,” Aedan said. “Our cities are not much like yours, nor are our villages. Our streets are not as clean, I fear, nor do we live among the trees, as you do. We build our houses and our palaces differently, and we live behind stone walls. There is much to recommend your way of life. It is more peaceful and calming to the spirit.
Perhaps that is why time seems to pass more slowly here.”
“Still, I would prefer to be back in Anuire,” said Michael. “After all, I am emperor now, and I must claim my throne.”
“As I must serve you and the empire,” Aedan said. “Duty calls. But,”
he added sadly, “except for that, there is little for me to go back to now.”
Sylvanna frowned. “What makes you say that?
You would not wish to see your family?”
Aedan swallowed hard before replying. “My parents were my only family,”
he said. “I had no brothers and no sisters, and now I fear my parents are probably both dead. Perhaps my mother survives, but my father would have been too great an enemy to Lord Arwyn for him to have been left alive.”
“But … your father lives,” Sylvanna said.
Aedan stopped and stared at her. “What?”
“A message was received from him this morning,” she said. “You mean you did not know?”
Aedan could not believe his ears. “My father is alive? There has been a message from him? Are you sure?”
“My brother mentioned it to me this morning when he had word from the palace and was summoned to the prince’s presence,” she replied.
“Perhaps he meant for me to tell you, but I thought you already knew.”
“This is the very first I’ve heard of it!” said Aedan, his heart giving a leap.
“What was the message?” Michael asked eagerly.
“Did Gylvain say?”
“Something about how Lord Tieran had safely reached Anuire along with the empress and her party,” said Sylvanna. “There was more, but that is all I can remember now.”
“You have remembered the most important thing,” said Aedan.
Impulsively, he grabbed Sylvanna and gave her a hug. “Thank you!
Thank you! This is the best possible news!”
Taken aback, Sylvanna stiffened, and Aedan released her and stepped back, feeling a bit flustered. “Forgive me,” he said.
“No, it is I who must ask your forgiveness, Aedan,” she said. “Had I but known you thought your father dead, I would have told you right away. I had not realized…. How awful it must have been for you!”
Aedan closed his eyes as an immense feeling of relief surged through him. For a moment, he was so overwhelmed, he simply couldn’t speak.
He felt his lower lip tremble and was afraid that he might start to cry.
Sylvanna’s arms went around him and held him close. Then Michael’s hand settled on his shoulder, and they were all three holding each other for strength and
support. For a few moments, no one spoke.
Aedan took a deep breath, and they stood apart, looking at one another.
“It must have been so very lonely for you,” said Sylvanna, “thinking you were the only one of your family who was left alive.”
Aedan nodded, struggling to compose himself.
He glanced at Michael, reached out, and squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “You realize what this means?” he said. “Lord Arwyn does not hold the empress hostage and cannot enforce his claim upon the regency. He has failed. The moment he learns you are alive and well, he must either give up his bid for power or brand himself a traitor.”
“He has already done that,” said Michael firmly.
“And what is more, he knows it. He cannot simply be brought to heel.
He must be brought to justice.”
Aedan gazed at him, and for the first time, he saw not Prince Michael, but Emperor Michael. “Yes, you’re right, of course,” he said. “One way or another, there will be war, and there is no avoiding it.”
Michael nodded. “The empire is my birthright,” he said, “and if I must fight to keep it together, I shall fight to my last breath.”
“We both shall … Sire,” Aedan said. They clasped hands. “Come, Sylvanna,” he said. “Let us go and find Gylvain and see how soon the emperor and I may start for home.”
The Birthwright
**chapter One**
The Southern Coast, with its vast, rolling, grassy plains, gradually gave way to the patchwork farmlands of the Heartlands, roughly one hundred miles irdand from the Straits of Aerele. The two regions encompassed all the territory from the province of Osoerde to the east, on the shores of the Gulf of Coeranys, to the tangled woodlands of the Erebannien and its coastal marshes to the southeast, to the forests and lush meadows of Mhoried and Markazor in the north, and west to the provinces of Taeghas and Brosengae, on the shores of the Sea of Storms.
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