“Nor I you.”
She stepped back. “You look so different. You’re so much thinner!”
He laughed. “And you’re not.”
She blushed. “Varian and I will have a son, so the midwives tell me, in another two months.”
Kaspar calculated. “He didn’t waste much time, did he?”
Natalia moved to her seat and took it, motioning for Kaspar to sit down. She rang a bell and Magary appeared. “You can begin serving now.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
Kaspar laughed as Magary left. “Your Grace! That’s right, you’re now Duchess.”
She leaned forward. “Kaspar, I know things have been…difficult.”
He patted her hand. “That word doesn’t do it justice. But I’m really fine.”
“Varian is a good man. He and I will never…well, I respect him and he’s gentle. He also is a wonderful father and he’s a fine ruler. Your nation is in good hands.”
Kaspar sighed. “Nation? No longer.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, the next Duke of Olasko will have your blood in him.”
Kaspar laughed out loud. Slapping the table, he said, “I can’t begin to tell you how surprised I am that that particular bit of news actually does please me.”
“I’m so glad.”
Magary entered with soup, and from the smell of it, Kaspar knew he was going to enjoy it. When she left, Kaspar picked up a spoon and said, “I am doubly pleased to be meeting you here, my darling sister, for if this meal is like the first one I had here last week, you are in for a treat.”
They talked throughout dinner and into the night. Kaspar sipped fortified wine and she had hot tea after supper. At the end, they found they had run out of things to talk about. And both knew why.
Tal entered and said, “Your Grace, your carriage awaits.”
Natalia arose and came to kiss Tal on the cheek. “Thank you for my brother.”
“You’re more than welcome. I’ll wait outside as you say goodbye.”
When they were alone, Kaspar said, “Shall I walk you out?”
“No,” she said. “Someone might recognize you, even at this late hour. It’s best I go now.” They stood holding hands for a silent minute.
Kaspar said at last, “I know. We may never see each other again.”
“What will you do?”
“I don’t know yet, but one thing I’ve discovered in the last year is that this world is a vast place, with great opportunities for someone who wishes to begin again. When I have begun again, I shall send word.”
“May the gods protect you, dear brother.” She kissed him and left quickly as if fleeing before tears overwhelmed her.
A minute later Tal re-entered the room. Kaspar said, “As she said, thank you.”
Tal shrugged. “We both love her in our way.”
Kaspar laughed. “Irony isn’t your strong suit, but you see it, don’t you?”
“That I could love your sister while wishing you dead?” He nodded. “I could never love Natalia the way a husband should love his wife.”
“But you found the girl you were destined for?”
Tal shrugged, and his expression was one of mixed regret and resignation. “Teal isn’t the girl I knew in the village. She is…changed. She will never truly be happy, I think. She was raped so many times she doesn’t even know who our son’s father is. I treat him like my own, but…it’ll never be the same for her. However, she has good days, weeks even.” A faraway look came over his face. “She never cries, Kaspar. Never. I would welcome it if she did.”
“You took on a burden.”
“Who else was there to give her back a tiny bit of what you took away?”
Kaspar was silent: there was nothing he could say to defend himself. Finally he said, “Alysandra said to say hello. She is well.”
Tal laughed, and there was a note of bitterness in it. “I was so young when I met her, I thought her the love of my life. It was a harsh lesson.”
Kaspar said, “There’s another one who never cries.”
After a long pause, Tal said, “If you are fortunate and meet a woman you can love without reservation, do so. For then you’ll know the gods have truly forgiven you.”
Kaspar nodded. “I should be getting back. How is that arranged?”
Tal handed Kaspar an orb fashioned out of some golden metal which was much lighter than gold. “Press that button there and you will be back at the villa.”
Kaspar said, “Then it is goodbye, young Talwin Hawkins, though not so young as when I met you. Shall we meet again?”
Tal smiled a rueful smile. “Where the Conclave is concerned, nothing is certain. As much as I can, Kaspar of Olasko, I hope you fare well.”
“And you, Tal.”
They didn’t clasp hands, but they did lock gazes for a moment, and something passed between them. Kaspar pressed the button on the orb and suddenly he was in Pug’s study.
Pug looked up. “Was it an enjoyable visit?”
Kaspar said, “Very enjoyable. Thank you for your help. Tal did most of it. I just sent him a message.” He paused. “You look tired.”
“There are times I think I was born tired,” said Pug. He smiled. “I remember being a lad back at the castle in Crydee, and while it was only a hundred or so years ago, it seems a lot longer.”
Kaspar laughed. “You have wonderful beaches here, I have been told. You should go for a swim, lie in the sun for a day.”
“I would if I could. But we have things to do.”
“We?”
“Yes, rest, for tomorrow you and I will take a journey to see someone who may shed some additional light on the Talnoy.”
“Who and where?” asked Kaspar.
“A friend of mine, who knows more about the Dragon Lords than anyone living.”
“And where does he reside?”
“Elvandar. We are going to the court of the Elf Queen.”
Kaspar said, “Talwin was right. You do never know what will happen next.”
TWENTY
ELVANDAR
Kaspar blinked.
One moment they had been on Sorcerer’s Isle, and the next they were in a deep forest, standing on the banks of a river.
Pug said, “This is the Crydee River.” Then he turned to ensure that the Talnoy was still with them.
“What now?” asked Kaspar.
“We wait,” said Pug. “We won’t have to wait long. The elves are vigilant at their boundaries.”
“Why do we wait for them to come to us?”
“No one may enter Elvandar or the surrounding forest unbidden. To do so would invite dire consequences.”
The temperature was brisk, but not uncomfortable. They had departed after breakfast, but as Elvandar was farther west than Sorcerer’s Isle, it was still early morning at the time of their arrival.
For roughly an hour they waited, Kaspar sitting on the ground, Pug and the Talnoy standing motionlessly. Kaspar had spoken little to the magician in the time they were together. It was obvious that Pug was the leader of the Conclave, though no one had openly said as much. He didn’t seem the sort of man to engage in idle chatter, and so far nothing Kaspar had seen had disabused him of that notion.
At last, Pug said, “They’re here.”
Kaspar looked across the river and saw nothing, but Pug called out, “Hello! It is Pug of Crydee!”
A laugh sounded from the other side of the river, and a voice called back, “Welcome to Elvandar, Pug of Crydee. You and those accompanying you may enter.”
Pug beckoned to Kaspar and commanded the Talnoy to follow them across the ford. Kaspar, glancing behind him to make sure it was following, thought that it looked twice as menacing in the shadows of the forest. He had gratefully relinquished the ring to Pug, who seemed able to wear it for longer periods without apparent difficulty.
Across the river, among the trees, waited four elves. Kaspar noticed that one of them looked a little different to the others; he was
broader of shoulder and had slightly less pronounced ears.
“Ho, Calis!” Pug said, smiling at the unusual-looking elf.
“Greetings, Pug.” The young man looked no more than twenty-five years old. “You are always welcome. I’ve already sent a runner to inform my mother and father of your arrival.”
“I’m afraid we must hie to the court by faster means.”
“Sorry I won’t be there to see you,” said Calis.
“How is your family?”
“Ellia and the twins are fine.” He looked at the Talnoy and said, “Am I safe in assuming that this is what brought you to court?”
“Yes, I need to speak to your father about it.”
Calis examined the Talnoy closely. “It has an evil aspect, but there is something in it—” he grimaced. “It reeks of death, Pug.”
“I fear you’re right,” said Pug.
“Then we shall not keep you. It is good to see you again, Pug.”
“And you.”
Pug motioned for Kaspar to stand closer to him and suddenly they were in another part of the forest.
Kaspar’s mouth opened.
Before him rose a truly awe-inspiring sight, a forest unique and otherworldly. They stood in a vast clearing. Before them, in its center, majestic oaks ascended to the very heavens. Each was easily three times the height of those in Olasko’s hunting forests, and the colors!
Some were leafed in dark green, as befitted the season, but others were alive with red, gold, and orange. He saw one that he swore was tinged with blue, and several bore leaves as white as snow. Between the mighty boles, below the main canopy, arched vast walkways built upon massive branches. Stairs, seemingly carved out of the living trunks, spiralled up out of sight and platforms could be glimpsed between the foliage. Upon all of these constructions walked elves.
They were a stately people, but what Kaspar had read about them did not do them justice.
Some wore hunting leathers, like the sentry elves at the river, but others wore regal robes of rich hues, hand-stitched with threads of silver and white, gold and yellow. They moved with a fluid grace, an economy of motion that made them appear to glide rather than step.
“Breathtaking,” Kaspar whispered.
“I’ve been here more times than I can count, and I still gape in awe,” said Pug. “Follow me.”
He led Kaspar toward a large sweeping stairway that curved out of sight around the trunk of one of the giant trees. Elven children played around its base, and several women sat observing them quietly as they worked at their sewing.
Pug exchanged greetings with many who passed them as they climbed. Kaspar felt that he couldn’t take in the wonders fast enough. “This is a most marvellous place, Pug,” he said.
“Indeed.”
“It is more than its beauty…it’s also the tranquillity of the place.”
“Sadly, it has not always been so. A battle was fought at the place where we arrived between the elves and Tsurani invaders during the Riftwar. I was a captive on the Tsurani world, but I have heard the sad tale many times. This lush woodland has been watered with the blood of the long-lived too often.”
Kaspar intuited what he meant by that, for the elves were rumored to live for centuries.
They reached a high pathway across several huge branches which led to a gigantic central court. Upon a large wooden dais rested two thrones, and upon these sat two people who looked as noble as their surroundings.
The woman’s throne stood slightly higher than the man’s. She wore a simple gown of winter-white, and he a brown tunic and trousers, but the simple clothing could not hide their majesty. Her ears were like the other elves’, upswept, pointed, and without lobes, and her magnificent red-gold hair was gathered by a single golden circlet that allowed it to cascade loosely about her shoulders. Her almond-shaped eyes were blue with green flecks.
The man wore no adornment, but his body radiated strength. Kaspar felt awed by his power. Pug had struck him as a man of subtle strength, but this man was strength personified. He must have stood at least six inches over six feet tall and was broad-shouldered, but something about him conveyed that his power came not just from his size, but from deep within, as well.
“Welcome, Pug!” the man said, rising to greet them. “You sent no word of your arrival.”
Pug embraced him. “I fear we’ve arrived before the messenger that your son dispatched from the river. Time is of the essence.” He turned to the woman and bowed. “Your Majesty.”
She smiled and Kaspar was again dumbstruck. She was alien, but beautiful beyond measure. She nodded graciously. “You are welcome, Pug, as always. Who are these two with you?”
Pug said, “Queen Aglaranna, may I present Kaspar, lately Duke of Olasko, and now a…companion. And the creature behind him is our reason for being here.”
The Queen inclined her head. “Welcome, Kaspar.”
Kaspar said, “I am most astonished and gratified to be here, Majesty.”
Pug said, to Kaspar, indicating the tall man, “And this is Tomas, Prince Consort of Elvandar and my boyhood friend.”
Tomas gestured toward a circle of elves who sat on either side of the thrones. “These are the Queen’s advisors.” Nodding toward an elderly elf he said, “Tathar is first among the Spellweavers.” The old elf was broad-shouldered and bearded; otherwise, despite his white hair, he looked much like his companions. He was dressed in rough-woven cloth and leather and sat at the Queen’s right hand. On the other side of the dais, to Tomas’s left, sat another elf. “And this is Acaila, first among the Eldar.”
While Tathar possessed a certain rough-hewn look, Acaila appeared composed and spiritual, like a cleric. His features were thin from age, and his skin was almost translucent, like parchment.
Kaspar nodded a greeting to all of them.
Tomas asked, “So what is this thing that you have brought to us? It is not alive, is it?”
“In a manner of speaking, it is,” said Pug. “I was hoping you could shed some light on it.”
Tomas fixed the palest blue eyes that Kaspar had ever seen upon the thing and after a moment, they widened. “A Talnoy!” Tomas said softly. “Now I remember.”
“Remember?” said Kaspar.
Pug said, “All will be explained.” Turning back to Tomas, he asked, “What do you remember?”
Tomas’s voice turned icy, as if another person spoke through him, and his gaze became distant. “We battled against a race called the Teld-Katha, on the world of Riska. They attempted to banish us from their skies using a hastily-constructed but mighty spell. They failed; instead, they created a rift.
“We destroyed the Teld-Katha, but never plundered their world, for we in turn were ambushed through that rift, and those that—” His eyes focused suddenly, and turning to Pug, he said, “You must destroy this somehow, and quickly!”
“Our initial examination leads me to believe that to do so may prove impossible.”
Tomas looked to the two senior elves. “Tathar and Acaila, will you please use your wisdom to see what you can make of this creation?”
Both elves bowed and approached. Tathar said, “I need no spell to see that it is a foul thing; even in repose it exudes an evil strength.”
Acaila said, “I will consult the archives.”
“First, let us away to a quieter place,” said Tomas. “Then, I will tell you all I know.” To his wife, he said, “I beg the Queen’s leave to depart for more cloistered quarters.”
“Go, and I will join you this evening, husband.”
Tomas bowed, then led Pug and the others away from the central court.
When they had reached a large room situated within the bole of a tree, Tomas said, “Pug, that thing may be the most dangerous creation in this world. How did you come by it?”
Pug deferred to Kaspar who told his story one more time.
When he was finished, Tomas said, “Here’s what I remember about the war with the Dasati—”
Ka
spar interrupted him, “Forgive me, but how can you remember something that happened before you were born?”
Tomas looked at Pug, who said, “I neglected to tell him.”
“As impossible as this may sound,” said Tomas, “I possess the memories of a Valheru, one of the Dragon Lords. It’s as if I have lived two lives, but I’m afraid that time will not permit a long explanation.” He looked around at the four men in the room with him and continued, “This was a time before the Chaos Wars, when the Valheru reigned the heavens. We had the power to fly between worlds and no one equaled us.” His eyes grew misty in remembrance. “We had destroyed the Teld-Katha, whose last desperate act brought about the creation of the rift.
“Through that fissure came beings who attacked us without any hesitation. We eventually disposed of them and turned our attentions to the rift, sensing a great power through it—perhaps a power greater than anything we had ever encountered. So we turned away from Riska, and flew into the rift.” Tomas looked away as if the memories were difficult. Softly he said, “It was the only time in his life when Ashen-Shugar knew fear.”
He pointed to the Talnoy. “I can wield my golden sword, Pug, and if I strike the creature with all my might, I could damage it. With several blows, I could perhaps incapacitate it. But they use foul magic, and while it lies twitching on the ground, it heals. Within hours it will be whole and fighting again.
“The Dasati are a plague. There are millions of them, and their Talnoy number tens of thousands—perhaps hundreds of thousands. Even without the Talnoy, the Dasati were as difficult to kill as any mortal beings the Valheru had faced. Only during our struggle with the gods did we know greater danger. Even the demons of the Fifth Circle, or the Dread Lords, are more easily faced, for while they are individually more powerful, they lack numbers. Ashen-Shugar, Ruler of the Eagle’s Reaches, and his great golden dragon Shuruga, slaughtered many, but for every one that fell another two took its place.
“After days of fighting, the first of the Valheru—Kindo-Raber, Master of Serpents—fell: he was pulled from the back of his dragon and torn apart by the Dasati. They ripped the flesh from his bones, Pug. They tore his great dragon apart as well. They are like soldier ants on the march: eventually, every living creature in their path falls.