ã€ŠElves of the Taliswoodã€‹


 Volume 1, Chapter 1: Day One

    <figure></figure>

    Earlier today, I couldn''t move. The bright summer sun was beating down on my eyes, what there was of it that made it through the thick redwood canopy, at least. Sweat dripped down my face from my forehead, blurring my vision.

    I could barely see the top of the railing of a veranda-like section of the stairway that spiraled up toward the host tree¡¯s crown. I was pinned to the wooden planking, a soldier on my back in a thirty pound chainmail hauberk.

    An attempt had just been made on my life, an assassin with a crossbow high in the branches of a redwood on the other side of the broad Grand Boulevard of Jedicar. The soldiers, my guard, two of them, were doing their best to shield me and return fire. The assassin had taken their first shot the moment I exited a covered section of the stairway and became exposed.

    The soldier not holding me down, a sergeant, was firing a crossbow of his own. Suddenly there was a thump sound and a yell. The sergeant had been struck. ¡°By the Gods!¡± he screamed, ¡°Ludic, give me your water flask!¡±

    Once he had it, and had jerked the crossbow bolt from his arm, he began saturating the wound with water, ¡°The son of a whore is using acid arrows! My gods it burns!¡± The acid from magical acid bolts would keep burning the flesh for another few seconds then stop. It would leave a horrific scar, but he would live. The two valets who had been carrying my small luggage were crouched against the safety panel of the wooden railing crying. Terrified.

    Another bolt zipped over the banister, stuck in the tree, and began sizzling, The acid boring into the tree trunk.

    ¡°That''s the one,¡± the sergeant said confidently as he took careful aim and loosed a bolt. A sharp kathunk and a scream, followed by a sound like someone dropping a sack of potatoes told me his aim had been true.

    ¡°Was he the only one, Sergeant?¡± Ludic asked.

    Everything  went quiet except for the screams of pedestrians from below, now gathering around the assassin''s body.

    .¡°As far as I can tell, Ludic.¡±

    ¡°Not quite the reception you were expecting, Mister Bascombe?¡± the he asked me.

    ¡°Actually, Sergeant, with the Swalesians in attendance, I was afraid something like this might happen. They have a reputation.¡±

    ¡°Indeed they do, Sir. And that''s not the first one we''ve taken care of this week. I believe that was number four. I can see down there, that was a woman. Curly black hair, olive complexion, my guess is Swalesian. How''d she get up that tree unnoticed? Must have been there a few days, too."

    ¡°That''s concerning, Sergeant. Shows how determined they are."

    ¡°You must be terribly important, Sir.¡±

    ¡°No Sergeant, they''ve just been terribly misinformed.¡±

    A crowd formed around the crumpled figure of the assassin. Gawking. It would be a long couple of weeks ahead.

    The Gray Elves live in a part of the Taliswood dominated by massive redwoods, and they''ve built everything wrapped around these trees, high up near the forest canopy. Even the massive Royal Palace is built so, all from wood and glass. Houses, shops, banks, libraries, museums, restaurants, and cafes, all built around the trees. The whole thing is navigated by a network of rope bridges and pulley platforms.

    Many of the trees have stairways that circle their host tree in an ascending spiral, most of it covered, but there are long, veranda-like sections only partially shielded from the elements and it was in one of these in which the attempt was made on my life.

    I had two valets carrying my smaller items while my trunks were going up to my rooms by way of pulley platform. Two soldiers accompanied us. They were wearing fine mithril chainmail and helmets with one spike at the crown, longswords at their waists and light crossbows cocked and ready. The uniform was completed by a lavender tabard with a seven-pointed star at the chest.

    I was slightly confounded. Really, how hard could trade talks possibly be? Well, that depends on several factors. One is the experience level and skill of the negotiator. Two is the parties involved. Three,  the quality of assassins sent to kill you, and four, charm ¡ª can you charm their stockings off?

    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    One, I have no experience outside mock negotiations at university. Two, I am in the midst of a group of pit vipers as far as my competition goes, seasoned negotiators, ambassadors, and envoys. Three, they have assassins of exceptional skill, and four, I could sell life insurance to the undead.

    Ultimately, it boiled down not to how hard negotiations should be, but how hard they were made to be.

    Behind me, I have the money and reputation of the Hard Coast Company, the most powerful business institution in the world with its hands in shipping, banking, financial markets, shipbuilding and trade in coffee, sugar, tobacco, and every spice imaginable.

    But I''m up against a formidable assemblage of eager parties, all after the same thing, the amber concession of the Gray Elves. That''s where I am now, in their city of Nez Ambr¨ªl in the great forest known as the Taliswood ¡ª what the Elves call Imsk¨ªli. It''s been their ancestral home for over 9,000 years.

    Amber is its number one export, and the amber here is of such an exceptional quality  and purity that it rivals diamonds on the precious gems market. The color of honey, ¨¦liks in Elvish, it''s like a small piece of sunshine trapped in crystal, seemingly a living thing.

    For whatever reasons, the Elves are selling their position in the trade to the highest bidder or whoever they favor in the bidding process.

    My name''s Tendil Liste Bascomb, Esq. by the way. I''m from the thriving port city of Wikehold on the northwest third of the Hard Coast in the kingdom of Feersland, some 350 miles due west of the Taliswood.

    I''m attempting to keep an accurate journal of my time here for posterity and for my memory. We shall see how I do.

    I won''t lead you on, I''m here because of the nepotistic practices of the Hard Coast Company. My father and my maternal grandfather both sit on the board. I''m honored that I''m getting this opportunity, but it isn''t deserved.

    My first adversary here is the Wood Elves out of their capital, Iln¨ªst, 50 miles to the southeast of Nez Ambr¨ªl. Their king, Mestil, II, is fast friends with Queen May, the leader of the Gray Elves. Advantage to the Wood Elves.

    They are but one of four main parties being considered for the amber concession. Second is the High Elves out of their capital of Nez Clar?, 75 miles to the west of the Taliswood in an area they call the Inix''Shert, or ¡°Wheat Garden.¡± They are shrewd and often underhanded traders, supplying the Gray Elves with wheat and military assistance if needed. That gives them a big bargaining chip. They don''t deal in assassination. Yes, that will remain a concern here.

    Third is the Gnolls, hyena-headed creatures out of the great desert to the East called the Waste. Their capital, the great oasis city of Yis-Gl¨¢z sits at the Western terminus of the Trade Road that crosses the Waste bringing goods from the Eastern Ocean. They are represented here by their leader, the Witch Queen, Mag''stula. The Gnolls are fabulously wealthy thanks to their near monopoly on East-West trade

    Lastly come the Swalesians, Humans, slavers, pirates, their country is twice the size and population of Feersland with three times the coffers. Their capital of Prim, on the shores of the Southern Sea is a living monument to their leader, Aber¡¯Dai, the Khan of Swalesia, also known as the ¡°Mouth of God¡±. He has the status of a demigod among his subjects and is worshiped as such. He sends his second son, Prince Anoresti to the table here.

    The Swalesians are known for their use of assassins and purportedly train the best in the world. You see, this is my greatest fear if my emphasis hasn''t already suggested it: assassination. My first day here, and an attempt has already been made on my life, or at least a warning was issued. I''m not just paranoid.

    I finally reached my rooms and they were beautiful. All blonde woods, stained glass, and damask upholstered seating in the sitting room. Just out of the way , a four -poster bed that looked like it needed an occupant.

    My nerves were so frayed by the day''s events that I decided on a hot toddy before I turned in. I had a little paperwork to go over anyway.

    I rang the service bell and the head butler, apparently assigned to me, appeared in a flash. That was some feat all things considered. Gray Elves can reach 1,000 years old, but they all have silver hair, grayish skin, gray eyes none of them look as old as they really are. The butler looked like he could easily be 800, just something about his manner.

    He said ¡° My name is Greer, Sir. Whatever needs you have, I''ll be here to fulfill what I can. Now, what may I get for you?¡±

    "I believe I would like a hot toddy, Mister Greer.¡±

    ¡°Very well, Sir, but I''m obliged to remind you that you have an audience with Queen May and her Senior Advisor on Trade, Count Pelisir, in the morning at ten bells.

    ¡°I''m aware, Greer, thank you.¡±

    ¡°It''s just that we want you to be well-prepared, Sir.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Greer, I''m going over my notes now. The toddy will help me sleep.¡±

    ¡°Do you normally need alcohol to help you sleep, Mister Bascombe? The accommodations are comfortable enough, yes?  We just don''t want your head to be foggy in the morning.¡±

    ¡°I''ll be fine, Greer, just please get me a hot toddy.¡±

    ¡°Doesn''t the elder Mister Bascombe, your father, own vineyards?¡±

    ¡°Why, yes he does, why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°Alcohol is a big part of your life I would imagine?¡±

    ¡°Okay, Greer, just what are you getting at?¡±

    ¡°Well, Sir, I''ve just heard of people who need a drink before they do anything of consequence and I want to make sure you don''t feel the need before your audience with the Queen in the morning."

    ¡°Sir! If you''re implying that I have a problem with drink, your thoughts are misguided! I''ll be fine in the morning. Please, just bring me my toddy¡±

    ¡°If you need it, Sir.¡±

    ¡°I don''t need it, Greer, I want it. Spot the difference?¡±

    The old Elf flinched when I raised my voice and I felt like the worst sort of bully, but this back and forth was wearing on me.

    ¡°Please, Greer, my toddy?¡± I implored him.

    ¡°Very well, Sir, if you insist.¡±

    As he stepped away from the door, hopefully to get my drink, he looked back over his shoulder and asked ¡°But it will be just the one, Sir?"

    ¡°Yes, Greer, yes!¡± One drink! For the love of the gods, just one drink!¡±

    He flinched again and I sighed, slamming the door behind him.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 2: The Queen and the Count

    The following morning, Greer woke me with the sunrise, a steaming pot of coffee, cream, sugar, lemon curd, and scones, piping hot and fresh.

    ¡°I hope you slept well, Sir. Busy day and I''m to get you properly dressed and on your way within the hour.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Greer. Thank you. I''ll dress myself. Bring my high lunch wear, that should be suitable.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Sir. That should be quite fine. I''ll fetch you when the Queen is ready.¡± And he left.

    Today was an early tea and luncheon with the Queen and her trade advisor, Count Pelisir. I had never met with either one, much less in such an intimate setting, and frankly, I was terribly nervous. I was terrified that I would say something inane or, worse, flirtatious. Understand me, the woman is beautiful beyond words, but she is also something like 500 years my senior.

    I said my last silent prayer as I followed Greer to the conservatory where I assumed we''d be having our meeting, but we passed that door by. Going further down the hall, we began to ascend a staircase off to the side. It looked like it would lead to servants¡¯ quarters, so I was trying to figure out the ruse when we came to the top of the stairs. Greer knocked on the door there, opened it, and said ¡°Mister Tendil Liste Bascombe, Esquire, late of Wikehold, Feersland for you, Your Majesty.

    And she was certainly there. This was apparently her private quarters, and I blushed like a child.

    ¡°Oh, you Humans and your things!¡± She laughed, ¡°Come in, please Mister Bascombe, and have a seat!¡±

    I bowed deeply and walked over, trying not to make eye contact.

    She and Count Pelisir were seated at a small wooden table with three chairs by a window, sunlight spilling through iron bars and across the table and floor. The room was very plain, spartan almost.

    ¡°Greer, perhaps another pot of coffee and some biscuits. We''re going to be a while.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty,¡± he said as he turned to leave.

    ¡°Is Greer behaving himself with you, Mister Bascombe?¡± Not giving me time to respond, she said ¡°You know they just installed those iron bars last week. Something about the Swalesians being in town.¡± She smiled at that. The Swalesians¡¯ reputation preceded them.

    Queen May looked amazing in light gray robes and silver silk slippers. Her hair was elaborately braided around her head, but not perfect. She didn''t seem to care. I could feel those clear gray eyes sussing me casually, sizing me up. Her skin had that light gray pallor of her subspecies. She was thin, with a long neck and long fingers. She had a knack for looking completely relaxed while her back was as straight as an iron bar.

    Count Pelisir rose as I crossed the room, taking my hand and shaking it firmly. Again, those long Elven fingers. These people seem so damned frail. But I''m not all new to their species. I know what damage these seemingly delicate creatures can do.

    Pelisir was in a white linen tunic with black chausses, and black leather shoes. His wide black belt had a scabbard clipped to it holding a handsome rapier with a sapphire the size of a chestnut in its golden pommel.

    Like the rest of them, it was impossible to judge his age. My guess would be that he was in his 500s, contemporaneous with May. His hair was very short, lightly greased into a part. He had a military bearing that seemed more formal than required in this environment. One could almost hear his heels click together as he said ¡°Ah, Mister Bascombe! It is indeed an honor and a privilege!¡±

    ¡°For me as well, Count Pelisir. For me as well. I''m thrilled to have this opportunity to meet with the two of you.¡±

    I must say he seemed sincere, still grasping my hand and looking into my eyes. I had a sudden flash that he was getting much more from me than a handshake.

    He sensed my sudden unease and released my hand. ¡°Please, Sir, have a seat.¡± He indicated the empty wooden chair at the table.

    Bowing to the Queen and seating myself, she addressed me directly, ¡°So, Mister Bascombe, you have some hurdles to clear if you want the market on the ¨¦l¨ªks, I''m sure you''re aware?¡±

    Well, straight to the point. ¡°Yes, Your Majesty, very aware. I do think, however, we can meet or exceed any other offer on the table, there ¡­¡±

    ¡°You do understand, Mister Bascombe,¡± she interrupted, ¡°this is about much more than gold?¡±

    ¡°I do Your Majesty, and ¡­¡±

    ¡°Frankly, you can''t compete with the Swalesians if it comes down to gold. I would think you''d understand that. Their kingdom is twice the size of yours with three times your coffers.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty, but, if I may, we want your trade more than they do. I don''t believe Prince Anoresti has been given authority to place a bid as high as the one we would place. And, frankly, I don''t think you want to do business with the Swalesians. Or the Gnolls for that matter.¡±

    ¡°You''re absolutely right, Mister Bascombe. So, you think you''ve won? Don''t forget the Wood Elves. I don''t want to do business with them either. I want to do business with you.¡±

    An unexpected turn of events, to be certain. Had I honestly come in and won their trade with no effort?

    ¡°Your Majesty, I''m speechless.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it''s not over, Mister Bascombe. Far from it. I said I want to trade with you, and that''s true, but it''s not a matter of what I want.¡±

    ¡°I''m sorry, Your Majesty?¡± I didn''t understand what she was trying to say. Of course she''s the ultimate authority. She''s had their Parliament wrapped up for 100 years. She controls them like a master puppeteer.

    ¡°Mister Bascombe, it doesn''t matter what I want; it''s what''s good for my people. And I don''t mean Elves; I mean Gray Elves. Wood Elves be damned. As much as I love them,¡± she sighed.

    ¡°You''ve never been to Iln¨ªst, have you?¡± she asked.

    Iln¨ªst, the capital of the Wood Elf Kingdom, about 50 miles southeast of Nez Ambr¨ªl. Allow me to fill in some blanks here for readers who aren''t as familiar with the world beyond the Hard Coast.

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    On a map, the Taliswood, or I should begin calling it Imsk¨ªli while I''m here, is an irregular circle roughly 200 miles across. It''s massive. Surrounded by plains except for the southern extreme which is an enormous swampland.

    The great forest is bisected west and east by a great iver, what the Elves call Embrist Celedil, or the Quiet River. Quiet it may be. A sleeping giant, 300 yards from bank to bank. Ideal for commerce but not used for that purpose until much further south. It would be ideal for logging here in the forest, but the Elves won''t allow it.

    The worst troubles to start between Elves and Humans were over those damned trees in the south of the Taliswood. Men from the East who wanted to send timber through the fens and to market in Swalesia. They were the Hask, a barbaric people who lived a semi-nomadic existence on the plains between the Taliswood and the Waste. They tried to come in force on the Wood Elves, wanting to take the Taliswood. They had no idea.

    The Elves let them come all the way into the deep woods, some 15,000 strong or thereabouts. The trees all around the Humans came alive with Wood Elf snipers, arrows raining down by the hundreds and thousands. The Wood Elf ¡°cavalry,¡± gorgeous giant red deer and riders with lances, rode down every Human trying to get away from the slaughter. There were no survivors. That was perhaps 700 years ago. That lesson is still known to all Humans.

    I was terribly curious as to what the issue was with the Wood Elves for Queen May to not just deal with them and not bother going through with this bidding charade. Certainly they were the obvious choice.

    ¡°No, Your Majesty, I''ve never been to Iln¨ªst, but it''s on the itinerary.¡±

    ¡°Well, enjoy Nez Ambr¨ªl while you''re here, Mister Bascombe. This is the last truly Elvish city you''ll see on your journey.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, Your Majesty? She just seemed sad when talking about the Wood Elves, yet they had such a reputation for being welcoming and pleasant.

    ¡°They have let that city turn into ¡­ well, it might as well be one of those Human monstrosities on the Hard Coast; their streets are full of strangers, there''s crime, foreigners. It''s mostly Wood Elves, yes, but they''re losing their identity by letting the world in.¡±

    She locked eyes with me, and I could see her passion. Count Pelisir finally spoke then.

    ¡°We simply value what we have, Mister Bascombe. We''ve been in this very spot for 9,000 years ¡ª 9,000, Sir. The oldest Human civilization first sprang up some 3,000 years ago, and it''s already gone. Rubble to be dug up by other Humans unaware that a civilization was ever there to turn to rubble and be buried. Forgotten to time. That won''t be us, Mister Bascombe.¡±

    ¡°No, I should think not, My Lord. What you''ve created and maintained here is beyond my limited imagination. But there''s still the kinship and proximity.¡±

    This was what was curious. The Wood Elves already had a hand in the amber trade. These woods, after all, were filthy with the stuff. But they controlled the South of the Taliswood. The amber they dug up was a little more rare and of poorer quality. They wanted to control the whole market to improve their offerings.

    The Wood Elves also already had a booming amber market established with prices being set daily and speculation on supply and demand pushing those prices up and down throughout the day. That''s not something I could see being established here in Nez Ambr¨ªl. Too loud and chaotic. It also attracted traders and merchants from all corners of the continent. Doubtless it came with ample profit for the Wood Elves, but they lost a bit of their soul at the same time.

    ¡°Yes, so you see the dilemma we''re facing, Mister Bascombe.¡±

    I hadn''t said a word out loud. ¡°Are you reading my thoughts, My Lord?¡± I was extremely irritated to only just now be realizing it.

    ¡°Please Mister Bascombe,¡± the Queen interjected, ¡°it was at my command. Count Pelisir means nothing by it.¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± I replied, ¡°I understand my place at this table, and that you are royalty, and he is who he is, but this is unacceptable ma''am, Your Majesty, I''m sorry. If you know all my strategies and hesitations and judgments, you have a horribly unfair advantage!¡±

    ¡°There''s certainly no need to raise your voice, Sir! I''ve offered them once and I shall offer them again, my apologies. There is too much at stake here though, Mister Bascombe, to not use what means we have at our disposal to determine our best path forward. What say you, Pelisir?¡±

    The Count still looked as at ease as one can look which I found rather disturbing. The mood was suddenly tense and he was as calm as a spring morning.

    ¡°Your Majesty, I wouldn''t call his intentions pure, per se, not by any means. He seeks personal glory and the approval of his father. Other than that, I see nothing malicious about him. It would take a face-to-face meeting with Lord Maignard and the board of the Hard Coast Company to determine more. He really is just a negotiator. It''s not clear why he was trusted with this task.¡±

    ¡°Well, My Lord,¡± I was turning red in the face, ¡°I''m sure, if you''re through invading my privacy and insulting me, there is a reason why I was chosen. As you know, my father is on that board. I have been trained from my youth for what I do now. Part of my training was learning how to read people. I know, for example, that you are hiding something very important in this equation. Now, can we start over and negotiate this matter with all of our cards on the table?¡±

    The Queen was smiling despite keeping a stern disposition, ¡°Calm down, Mister Bascombe. You''ve passed the first test admirably. You just need to keep your temper tamped down. It serves no purpose here.¡±

    I tried to relax, but it felt like my whole body was flushed and rigid, my heart beating quickly, beads of sweat on my brow.

    ¡°Apologies, Your Majesty, My Lord, perhaps I take offense too easily or don''t understand the cultural differences here.¡±

    Count Pelisir spoke, ¡°No, you''re quite right to be upset, Sir. It''s never appropriate to be invasive like I''ve been. We''re just in a position here where there is a great moral dilemma being faced, and we have to be certain we make the right move. I''ll allow my Queen to do a better job of bringing you up to pace.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean, My Lord, has something happened?¡± I was clearly not aware of some part of this picture.

    Queen May let out a sigh and sat back in her chair. ¡°Mister Bascombe, I''m quite certain the Board of the Hard Coast Company knows much they haven''t told you. And it''s for good reason that you don''t know. This lack of knowledge has allowed you to come to us like this, we reading your thoughts and seeing no ulterior motive. Had you the whole story, you would have known how great the stakes are, and it may have impaired your negotiations. All you know now is that the Hard Coast Company, with or without the King of Feersland¡¯s approval, is willing to bid whatever is necessary. Do you know why the stakes are so high, Mister Bascombe?¡±

    ¡°Apparently I don''t, Your Majesty. I thought it was simply that you have the most beautiful, most pure amber in all the lands. That''s certainly the opinion of many.¡± I didn''t like this position at all. The studying I had done on the market, the strategies I had. I didn''t know where I stood now.

    ¡°You''re right on some counts, Mister Bascombe. You certainly have a grasp of the amber market. But you''re very wrong about the purity of our product.¡±

    Well, this was unexpected. What in the world did she mean? Had they been disguising impurities in order to boost the demand for their amber? ¡°Please explain, Your Majesty.¡±

    ¡°Much of our amber is of exceptional purity, clarity, void of inclusions. But we do have a fairly large percentage of amber with substantial inclusions. What this is all about is the market for those inclusions. Do you know what an inclusion is, Sir?¡±

    ¡°Of course, Your Majesty. I''m not a dunce.¡±

    ¡°Your temper again, Mister Bascombe,¡± she said calmly.

    Deep breath, ¡°Yes, Your Majesty. Inclusions. It''s bits of debris found in some pieces of amber. Pieces of bark, or dirt, or insects. It''s the difference in a piece of amber being valuable or being better suited to make varnish. Correct?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Mister Bascombe, you''re quite the expert on the matter. The thing is, all of the drama here isn''t about bits of dirt. It is, however, about the insects.¡±

    So now we were talking about bugs rather than about a beautiful piece of ornamentation. I patiently waited to see where this was going.

    ¡°I''m certain, Mister Bascombe, that you know very little about magic?¡±

    Well, that was out of the blue! ¡°Not much to be certain, Your Majesty. I''ve tried to learn a cantrip or two, but I simply don''t have the gift.¡±

    ¡°Well, it''s enough that you know the fundamentals, that magic is possible because of the ability to extract Mana from the Weave. That it can be used for good or evil. That it can be extremely powerful and extremely dangerous.¡±

    She leaned forward with her firearms on the table. ¡°When this world was younger, Sir, Mana rippled through the sky like clouds. It permeated everything. It''s certainly not that rare even these days, but it was much more plentiful and powerful once upon a time. We don''t know why or how it''s been depleted to such a degree. It''s not just less though. The Mana around us today is of a weaker quality, much weaker. Perhaps for the best, yes? I mean, who wants more powerful Wizards running about?¡±

    She laughed lightly, sadly, and continued, ¡°Those inclusions in that amber, Mister Bascombe, they are from a time when Mana was exponentially more powerful than it is today. Those insects are infused with it. The Swalesians, and maybe others, have apparently perfected a method for extracting and distilling this Mana into a liquid form that can be used to create spells of unimaginable power. So you see where this is going, Mister Bascombe?¡±

    There came a knock on the door at that moment and Greer stepped in, ¡°Your Majesty, the Gnoll Queen arrives momentarily. You said you wanted to be there to greet her.¡±

    ¡°Dammit!¡± It''s rare to hear a royal curse, and coming from someone so lovely, looking so fragile, I had to chuckle.

    ¡°It''s not funny, Mister Bascombe. You really do need to be brought up to speed. Greer, bring Mister Bascombe back around for afternoon tea, please. And Mister Bascombe, Count Pelisir, if you''ll excuse me, I need to tidy up for the Witch Queen.¡±

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 3: Cometh the Witch Queen

    It wasn''t long before the quiet of the early afternoon was broken by the peal of trumpets, drums, and finger cymbals as the great Imgril Sh¨¢r, the ¡°Silver Gate,¡± began to open for the royal procession of the Gnolls. I had to admire it. For a monarch to travel this far without an army for protection took some nerve.

    As it was, there was a fine host. Perhaps 100 Spotted Gnoll soldiers in purple tabards over chain mail, halberds gleaming in the brilliant sunlight of the beautiful summer morning. Behind these soldiers in the procession was what appeared to be what those in the military call a battlewagon ¡ª an extended carriage with metal plates all over it. Only slits to peer through as the world rolled by outside. I''m certain it was comfortably and richly appointed inside, but good heavens, what a monstrosity.

    I had gone down to the forest floor to watch the arrival, and I wasn''t disappointed.

    ¡°Quite the spectacle, eh?¡±

    I jumped hearing the voice so close behind me. It was Count Pelisir.

    I gave the Elf a slight bow and said, ¡°Yes, My Lord, they''ve certainly taken precautions.¡±

    ¡°You know, they used to eat us?¡±

    I turned to him quickly, ¡°You''re in my head again, My Lord!¡±

    ¡°No, no,¡± he seemed startled, ¡°merely stating a fact. Was that what you were thinking as well?¡±

    I wasn''t sure I believed him. ¡°Not just then, My Lord, but I''ve mused about it being a negotiating strategy if they appear to be too much of a threat.¡±

    ¡°So you know, Mister Bascombe, I can only do that little mind trick once a day. It weakens me.¡±

    We were silent for a bit, taking in the sights as the Gnolls marched rhythmically with the drums and trumpets down the city''s main boulevard. They are impressive creatures to be sure. I am guessing that the royal guard is all female. It''s only the Spotted Gnolls, but with them, the females are larger, stronger, and more aggressive than the males. They''re all about seven feet tall, humanoid in form but with the heads and coats of hyenas. They are striking.

    As the soldiers passed us by and the battlewagon approached, trumpets sounded behind us as Queen May was being lowered on a very fancy version of one of their pulley platforms. My gods she had changed much in an hour or so. Now, in a beautiful silver silk gown with matching gloves and a crown that literally made me gasp. It was silver and tall, with amber stones placed all about it. And she looked absolutely lovely.

    The coordination couldn''t have been better as the battlewagon and platform each reached their destinations at the same time. Queen May stepped forward to what I guess was a marked spot for these occasions, and Count Pelisir left my side to go stand behind her and to the right. A guard unit of Gnolls rushed to the door of the battlewagon, standing in two rows of five with their halberds crossed in an arch as the door squeaked open on its hinges.

    There was much murmuring from the gathered crowd, and then gasps as the Witch Queen, Mag¡¯stula, began to descend a small flight of fold-out stairs to the stone paved path below.

    Incredible. Draped in purple silk and more gold jewelry than I''ve seen in my short life, with a beautifully elaborate crown of gold and amethysts, her paw touched down and she looked around, sniffing the air.

    Queen May waited patiently with a cordial smile on her lips, trying not to look as enthralled as I''m sure she was. As we all were. This wasn''t  something you saw every day in the North Wall District or in Nez Ambr¨ªl.

    As the Witch Queen continued sniffing, you could quite literally feel the power coming off of her, like a static energy. I had heard that she was a Witch of great strength, but to feel it is a different thing.

    And then, for the briefest of moments, she locked eyes with me, and a voice entered my head, ¡°Mister Bascombe, I look forward to getting to know you better,¡± and then it was gone.

    I looked over at Count Pelisir and he was glaring back at me, a look of concern on his face. I gave him a quick nod and waved off his concern. He knew what had just transpired. She may have done it to him too. He had his negotiator''s face on now though. She wouldn''t shake him that easily.

    As Mag¡¯stula approached her, Queen May was absolutely beaming, extending her hand to take the Witch Queen''s into hers. I think May intended to kiss the Gnoll¡¯s cheek or something. She stood on her tiptoes and leaned forward before thinking better of it. Mag¡¯stula was at least two feet taller, making May look and feel like a child. Then there was a moment of tension as they looked at one another rather too deeply, each showing a light strain on their countenances. I knew that meant that there was a little mental jousting happening. It was only a moment, and very subtle, but it was there.

    I was not prepared for all of these magical and psychic elements that were presenting themselves. And perhaps May and Pelisir were right, maybe I had been duped in order to keep me purposefully naive. I couldn''t take offense, could I? Still, it''s not a good feeling being lied to like that. Even if it''s a lie of omission rather than a direct one.

    The two queens made some brief small talk. I couldn''t make out what they were saying. Queen May''s back was to me and I had trouble getting a read on Mag''stula because of the shape of her muzzle. I was well-trained in the art of lip reading, but this was the first time I''d ever been this near to a Gnoll. My gods, what a fascinating beast she was!

    Without getting too graphic, in Spotted Gnoll society, I''ve already allowed that females are dominant in the species. It goes further than that. In Humans, men have a man''s bits, and a lady has a lady''s bits if you catch my meaning. For Spotted Gnolls, the lady''s bits are more similar to a man''s bits. You would need to learn more from a natural philosopher who has studied the creatures, but it''s a definite curiosity.

    After a few moments, Queen May swept her hand toward the Palace, indicating that Mag''stula should follow a group of attendants to her rooms. With a quick thunk, thunk, thunk, Mag''stula¡¯s ten guards double-timed to escort her, five to the fore and five behind.

    The small retinue May had with her followed her back to the Palace except for Count Pelisir who came over to me.

    ¡°Mister Bascombe, would you please accompany me for lunch? I''m headed to the Esti Pl¨¢d, I believe that''s the ¡°Warm Loaf¡± in the Common Tongue?¡±

    ¡°That sounds excellent, My Lord. I''m most famished!¡±

    He smiled genuinely back at me, ¡°It''s just across the boulevard and up over there,¡± he said, pointing at a large pulley platform that led up to a series of shops and houses wrapped about a massive redwood. Rope bridges and more pulley platforms joining it all together. I could already smell bread baking and a dozen other scents of unfamiliar herbs and spices. And of course, the warm, enveloping aroma of amber perfume which permeated everything in Nez Ambr¨ªl.

    As we walked toward the heady smell of bread in the oven, the Count put his arm on my shoulder and asked, ¡°Are you okay, my friend?¡±

    I was momentarily confused. Then realized his meaning, ¡°You mean after the mind rape? Yes, My Lord. My head aches something awful. She was certainly in there.¡±

    He nodded and patted my shoulder, ¡°Yes, Mister Bascombe, she''s incredibly powerful. She''s not called the Witch Queen as a scare tactic. They say she''s the most powerful in the land. And that leads to a whole other conversation.¡± He pulled a small parchment packet from his satchel and flashed it at me, ¡°First, let''s take care of that headache and get some food in you. We''ve much talking to do before we see the Queen again this afternoon.¡±

    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

    We seated ourselves at a small table on what could best be described as something of a boardwalk. It was a wide avenue of wood that went from tree to tree with intermittent pulley platforms going up or down to either another wooden avenue or the forest floor. I was spellbound watching it all work and amazed that my fear of heights wasn''t crippling me. I think I''ve read that these Gray Elves give off a sort of calming scent. Perhaps that''s true, because I was perfectly at ease except for my throbbing headache. Once we had been seated, a young, female Gray Elf came to our table to see what we''d like.

    Normally I would have been a little offended, but as relaxed as I was, I didn''t care that Pelisir ordered for both of us.

    ¡°Yes, Sidra, how are you this beautiful day?¡± The Count was obviously a regular.

    ¡°I''m well, My Lord. Just been watching the magnificent procession of Gnolls! How wonderfully exotic they are! What can I get for you, um, My Lords?¡±

    ¡°Oh, I''m not a Lord, My Lady,¡± I protested.

    ¡°Oh hush, Lord Bascombe, of course you are!¡± Pelisir was chuckling at his own humor and the harmlessness of the ruse. ¡°Alright, Sidra, we shall have two cups of the barley and leek soup, four penny cakes with herb butter, and two of the coldest mugs of pear cider you can conjure, all while remaining as beautiful as you always are, and pretending not to be my niece.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Unc ¡­ sorry, My Lord Pelisir. I''ll be right back with your ciders.¡±  She curtsied and went into the small cafe.

    Pelisir smiled at me, ¡°My eldest brother married a commoner and was cut off from the family. Sidra is their daughter. I''m not supposed to be coming here, much less being cordial with her, but I make sure they want for not<i></i>hing. Anyway, Sidra is a most charming girl and none of it was her decision. Now, let''s fix that headache.¡±

    When Sidra reappeared with the mugs, they were so cold that they were covered in condensation, forming pools on the bare wood of the table. Before I could take a sip, Pelisir dumped the contents of the parchment packet into my drink. It was a light green powder that dissolved into the cider immediately with the slightest wisp of smoke.

    Evr¨ªm Qualt¨ªr is the Elvish word for it, ¡°Dream Herb¡± in the Common. Colloquially it''s known as Goblin''s Nog, he laughed. It''s a mild sedative with analgesic properties.¡±

    Hesitantly, I took a quaff. The flavor was amazing, the drink as cold as snow. Perfect for a warm summer¡¯s day, and I immediately felt the effect of the drug. My body relaxed, it felt like the pain literally floated out of my head and left a soft and fluffy empty space. Sounding like a child having their first ever taste of ale, I embarrassedly said, ¡°Ooh, tingly!¡±

    ¡°Never been out with the grown-ups, Mister Bascombe?¡± Pelisir asked. And we both had a good laugh at my expense.

    ¡°I''ve just never done anything like that, My Lord. I believe Goblin''s Nog is illegal in Wikehold.¡± And indeed it was.

    ¡°Well, Mister Bascombe, while you''re in Nez Ambr¨ªl, you''re obliged to do as we do so as not to make an affront, right? You wouldn''t want to hurt my feelings.¡±

    ¡°Yes, quite, My Lord. I would hate to offend your generosity.¡±

    ¡°Now, give it a moment, Mister Bascombe. Enjoy the feeling, enjoy your food. I''ve much on which to catch you up in regards to this whole scenario. There are many moving parts.¡±

    With that, Count Pelisir eagerly went about devouring his soup and rolls, ordering another and then a third pear cider. Initially, my mind was swimming from the Goblin''s Nog, but it slowly wore off. The pain was gone and I could finally think clearly once I''d done with my last roll. The food was fabulous.

    Finally, the Count spoke. ¡°First, the Gnolls. Unbeknownst to Mag''stula, theirs isn''t the only delegation of Gnolls to be arriving today. In fact, another should be here shortly though with much less fanfare. That would be the Aardgnolls. They come in secret to join the bidding process.¡±

    I''d only read a few lines regarding the Aardgnolls. They were a much more rare subspecies of Gnoll who lived in the plains, 100 miles to the west of the Spotted Gnoll city of Yis-Gl¨¢z, land contested by the Hask as well as the Sun Elves. I told Count Pelisir the extent of my Aardgnoll knowledge.

    ¡°Well, that''s all correct, Mister Bascombe. And their subspecies is certainly related to the Spotted Gnolls. They are much smaller though, smaller than Elves. Dwarf sized but thin. Golden pelts with russet colored stripes. Very distinct. Their capital is a city called Yagdiz, well out in the savanna to the west of Mag''stula and her people.¡±

    ¡°Yagdiz is small by any metric. No more than 5,000 souls in burrows they dig by hand, or paw, or however you wish to describe it. But their digging is what brings them today. Where they do their digging, out there in the plains, is a marvelous source of gold. They are fabulously wealthy. And Yagdiz is a center for the gold trade, long coveted by Mag''stula.¡±

    ¡°Like most, you''re probably wondering why Mag''stula hasn''t just taken it, and that''s a fair question. The Aardgnolls have a leader, a Sidraz, that''s their word for Father, named Mal¡¯friq, an exceptional warrior and well-loved by not only his people, but the populations of Brown and Striped Gnolls who make up a good percentage of the population of the species. Mag''stula has to be concerned that a move on the Aardgnolls would bring the other subspecies together against her. So she has to walk a fine line diplomatically. You may meet Mal''friq today, by the way.¡±

    ¡°I relish the opportunity to meet him, My Lord. I really know so little about the world beyond Feersland, it seems. The school books I had growing up could certainly use some broader perspective.¡± I was embarrassed to be so ignorant.

    ¡°That''s hardly your fault, Mister Bascombe,¡± he replied, ¡°Humans are given very little time in their lives to study as we do. And our libraries have over 9,000 years of the works of Elves trying to make sense of it all. I think the oldest surviving Human writings are perhaps 2,000 years old? Less, more, what does it matter? It''s not much to go on.¡±

    He was just trying to make me feel better, and I appreciated it, sincerely. But I have my pride, and looking like an undereducated primitive isn''t boosting that to any degree.

    ¡°You''re too kind, My Lord. Truly. I''ll take it on myself to try to learn more about these things before I''m sent on another trade mission.¡±

    He smiled at me like I was a child just trying to do my best, then got very serious. ¡°What you don''t seem to understand, Mister Bascombe, is your place in all this.¡±

    He was right on that point.

    ¡°When all of this is over, I invite you to stay for as long as you wish. As long as you live if it be your choice. You may have full access to our libraries and teachers and all the knowledge therewithin. But for now, put aside your pride. You need to understand that we want you to win this bidding process. The other options are far too dangerous. Those outcomes bad for this world in ways we don''t even want to contemplate.¡±

    ¡°I''m trying to wrap my head around it, My Lord.¡±

    He leaned in, ¡°Okay, here''s the whole thing in a neat packet for you. We don''t want the Swalesians to have it. They''ll use the magic to go about enslaving the rest of the world. They are an evil people with evil goals. We don''t want Mag''stula to have it. A Witch like her with that much power is unconscionable. And Mal¡¯friq and his people? We aren''t convinced that they can keep Mag''stula at bay for long. If it went to the Wood Elves, it would just destroy their culture and ours wouldn''t be very far behind.¡±

    ¡°Well, My Lord,¡± I was doing my best not to appear dense, but I couldn''t just pretend to understand his meaning. This was too important. ¡°With the fear of appearing to be dense, why this whole charade? Why not just give us the concession?¡±

    He sighed and sat back. ¡°It''s not that you appear dense, Mister Bascombe. There''s just too much for you to take in as quickly as is needed.¡±

    He called his niece over and ordered us two more ciders. I certainly didn''t need one. The ciders here are much more potent than those back home, and I was already running my brain at full capacity just to keep up.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he continued, ¡°So the Wood Elves are the easiest party to understand. Their threat to our way of life may not be so obvious to you but it makes enough sense that you can accept it. The Swalesians, we fear that if they think the process is rigged, they''ll go out of their way to eliminate me, Queen May, you, anyone they need to do away with to get what they want. We don''t desire getting our people involved in a war. So we have to maintain the appearance of fairness, and that includes in our dealings with the Gnolls.¡±

    I was beginning to feel a little better about myself as it all began to come clear. ¡°And what about my people, My Lord? Why do you trust us?¡±

    He smiled grimly and asked ¡°What instructions were you given on the bidding for the amber with inclusions, Mister Bascombe?¡±

    ¡°Well, none now that you mention it, My Lord. In fact, I was tasked with trying to make sure the included amber wasn''t part of the deal,¡± I replied honestly.

    ¡°And there you have it, Sir.¡±

    But I hesitated. ¡°Now that I know the full scope of all this, I need to go back through all of my paperwork to make sure our intentions are being honestly represented, My Lord. It hurts me to have to say it, but the Hard Coast Company isn''t exactly known for fair business practices.¡±

    He had a good laugh at that. ¡°No, Mister Bascombe, they are not!¡±

    Something seemed to pop into his head, ¡°I forgot to mention. The Aardgnolls are also known for their Assassins,¡± he laughed again, ¡°It will be an interesting week, yes?¡±

 Volume 1, Chapter 4: The King and the Killer

    Back in my quarters, I had time for a quick nap before Greer came around to fetch me. It felt like I had just laid down. I splashed some water on my face and fell in behind the old Elf as we slowly made our way to Queen May''s rooms. It was pleasant to not have Greer talking. I was getting the feeling he was starting to get used to me being around.

    When we arrived, neither the Queen nor Count Pelisir were there. Instead, a small, cloaked figure sat at the table eagerly gulping down a bowl of some thick looking stew and a mug of ale. It was a Gnoll, I could tell that much, and I was assuming it was an Aardgnoll based on what limited knowledge I had.

    In between mouthfuls, he, I was guessing, said, ¡°Ah, you must be Mister Bascombe! Have a seat, Sir!¡± Another mouthful, then ¡°My apologies, good Sir, I''m just coming off the road, all very hush hush, and haven''t had a scrap of food today. I''m Mal¡¯friq, by the way.¡±

    I bowed at the waist and said ¡°Your Majesty, my sincerest apologies! Had I ¡­¡±

    He cut me off quickly. ¡°Formalities are not required, Sir! Being the king of 10,000 or so subjects and living in a hole in the ground, I don''t feel I deserve much special treatment. Granted, it''s an extraordinarily nice hole and I am wealthy beyond your wildest imaginings, but it''s the principle of the thing. I''m merely a titular king.¡±

    I had to laugh at that. All of that. I liked this little fellow, king or not. He wasn''t five feet tall. Couldn''t have weighed more than eighty pounds. And to what he was saying, he certainly didn''t act like a king. Nor did he eat like one.

    ¡°Your Maj ¡­ sorry, how should I address you, Sir?¡±

    Mouth still full, he said ¡°How about Sir, or Mal''friq, yes, Mal''friq, and I shall call you Bascombe and we shall be fabulous friends, good Sir!¡±

    ¡°Very well, Mal''friq, where are the Queen and Count? I was assuming they''d be here.¡±

    ¡°Called away on some matter of state or other. I don''t know the specifics. I think you''re here to keep me company. We two adversaries in this bidding war.¡±

    I had completely forgotten why we were here. The amber. ¡°And what do you want with the amber, Mal''friq? Why are you here?¡±

    His eyes went wide, ¡°Why, to keep it out of the hands of Mag''stula, my friend! Why else?¡±

    ¡°Well, Sir, Mister Mal''friq, I wouldn''t be doing my due diligence if I took you at your word on that. Although a quick read makes me believe you''re being honest.¡±

    ¡°Another mind reader?¡±

    ¡°No sir, nothing magical, just studies of mannerisms and body language. I''ve not a magical bone in my body,¡± I said smiling, though it was a bit of a sore point. I had so wanted to be a Wizard as a child. Instead I''m an advocate and businessman like my father and his. No adventuring for the Bascombes.

    ¡°Well good. I''ve quite enough of it with my Witches and Sorcerers back home. By the gods, they''re a needy sort.¡±

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    He suddenly grew very serious and added, ¡°In all honesty, good Bascombe, if it weren''t for them, Mag''stula would have offed me years ago. They''re my front line against her magics. Just damned annoying people.¡±

    He looked at me square in the eye. ¡°And don''t misread the situation, Bascombe. You''ve read me well. The truth is though, I have magic-users in my court who covet that included amber as much as Mag''stula does. I have to be careful with them. They don''t know my suspicions, but a purge may be in order if my suspicions are accurate. I''m not keen on the idea of creating another Witch Queen.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Mal''friq. Your candor is much appreciated. And refreshing, I might add.¡±

    He sat up stiff as a board and said ¡°I am a warrior, good Sir, a great one at that. I don''t have the time for all the lying and scheming and games of court. Come to me plainly and we''re fast friends, if not, at least respectful associates. I''ll treat you as you treat me, Mister Bascombe. Are we in agreement?¡±

    I smiled, ¡°Of course, Mal''friq! I would like nothing more,¡± and we shook hands, satisfied that we had achieved something that might be of great value in our futures.

    ¡°Now, I''m sure you''ve heard, Bascombe, of our talents with the Assassins and all that, eh?¡± He squinted at me waiting for an answer.

    ¡°Yes Sir, of course. The reputation precedes you. I''m glad to be friends, heh.¡±

    ¡°Well one of my missions here is also to be on the lookout for Assassins with the Swalesian delegation. Their reputation precedes them as well.¡±

    I was curious how he''d manage this on his own and asked ¡°When is the rest of your delegation due to arrive?¡±

    He laughed at that, and I didn''t see the humor.

    He spoke to no one in particular, ¡°Yun¡¯quin, show yourself.¡± And a shadow moved out from the wall not five feet away from me. I jumped and reached for my dagger as Mal''friq shouted, ¡°HOLD, GOOD SIR!¡±

    I sat back in my chair abruptly, realizing that this Yun''quin fellow was another Aardgnoll like Mal''friq. I guess he had been there the whole time.

    ¡°Rest easy Bascombe. Well not too easy, you must still try to be more aware. But you see the skill of our Assassins. I cannot attest to the skill of the Swalesians except to say that the score is one to nil in our favor, so far.¡±

    I didn''t catch his meaning. ¡°One to nil, Sir?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Bascombe. One of the Swalesians sent to kill you has been dispatched. He was waiting in your rooms for your return.¡±

    I was speechless and a chill ran down my spine. ¡°Yun''quin here will be guarding you from now on. Don''t worry. But they will try again, you can be certain.¡±

    ¡°Thank you. Thank you both. My gods. Their delegation isn''t even here yet.¡± That might be the closest I''ve ever come to death and I didn''t know how to react.

    ¡°Don''t worry, Bascombe. We''ve gone over everything in your rooms and secured the window.¡± Mal''friq spoke reassuringly, ¡°I''ll have Queen May assign guards for you once I have a chance to speak with her. Until that time, Yun''quin will be watching you.¡±

    ¡°Thank you again, Sir. It''s been a true pleasure making your acquaintance. Sincerely. I do believe I should like to go to my rooms and have a nap before we sup this evening. I''m sure I''ll see you then, Sir?¡±

    ¡°Not quite yet, Mister Bascombe. No one knows I''m here except for a few trusted friends. That gives us leverage against the Swalesians and their kill crews.¡±

    ¡°Until our next meeting then, Sir. It''s been an honor.¡±

    I turned and went back to my rooms, looking under the bed like a frightened child before putting my head to pillow and dozing off. Despite the concern, I went to sleep as soon as my eyes shut.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 5: Take Me to Church

    It couldn''t have been but a few moments later that a rap on my door came followed by Greer announcing, ¡°Sir, you are needed directly at the Royal Chapel. I''ll be right outside the door here, please let me know when you''re ready.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Greer,¡± I croaked. Was there no respect for a moment''s nap in this tree?

    I had to chuckle. Living as these people do in these great treehouses. Certainly there''s some magic at work. No one is so great at woodworking to do what these Elves have done without it. Yet, there are wonders in this world greater than this I imagine. I''ve been exposed to so very little.

    The Chapel he said? What could this be about? The Elves, by the by, primarily worship a being they call ¨¦lois, their All Father, I suppose something like our Woten or something. A being who takes many guises, god of farming, god of mixing bowls, god of war and peace at the same time, that sort of nonsense.

    You''ll forgive me, dear reader, if in fact anyone reads this, but I don''t truck with gods and demons and all that fanciful drivel. Maybe I should shut my mouth though as I find out daily here how little I do know.

    I couldn''t guess who wanted to see me. I was guessing it to be Count Pelisir.

    I got dressed quickly, splashing some water on my face, and followed Greer to a part of the Palace to which I hadn''t yet been. It was a much less trafficked branch off the main level, further up into the tree.

    ¡°Here we are, Sir. She''ll be with you shortly.¡±

    ¡°Who wi ¡­¡± Before I had asked the question, Greer had gone. I swear the Elf moved like a snail until he didn''t. He could fly like lightning if it was his wont.

    The Chapel was small. Surely not the only place of worship here. It was approximately fifteen feet square with some wooden pews in neat rows, cushions of a beautiful lavender paisley design for kneeling, and an altar featuring a wooden carving of the seven-pointed star associated with ¨¦lois. There were beautiful stained glass windows behind the altar giving me some sense of location. That side of the room faced East it seemed. It''s terribly easy to lose your sense of direction in a Palace built in graduating loops around a tree like this.

    There were no cushions on the pews, but I had a seat at the front, facing the altar. I felt I should say a prayer or something but, before I could formulate anything suitable, the doors behind me opened again and a woman appeared, one I hadn''t yet seen.

    She was a Gray Elf, taller than most of her kind and very thin. I couldn''t tell her age, but she gave off the sense that she was more than middle-aged. Like Greer, it was in her bearing. She wore a lavender robe with full sleeves and a high collar. Her hair was braided in an elaborate bun. She was completely unadorned except for a large silver ring on the middle finger of her left hand, covered in Elvish script and holding a huge amethyst.

    I stood as she came in and bowed deeply although I wasn''t sure yet of the etiquette involved here

    ¡°Thank you, Mister Bascombe, you may rise.¡± She spoke with a voice both louder and deeper than other Elves I had met, giving off an aura of great authority.

    ¡°I am Mother Felistia,¡± she said, extending her left hand. I went to take it in a left-handed handshake and she quickly interjected, ¡°No, Sir, you kiss the Ring. Have you not been prepared for this meeting?¡±

    I was suddenly very embarrassed. No I hadn''t been prepared at all. I hadn''t heard of this woman at all, much less what etiquette was required when meeting her.

    ¡°Many pardons, Your ¡­ uh, I''m very sorry Ma''am, I don''t know how to address you. I was not prepared.¡±

    I bowed again, red in the face and supremely annoyed that I was having this sprung on me unannounced.

    ¡°You shall address me as Your Grace, Mister Bascombe. And don''t blame anyone but me. You weren''t supposed to meet me just yet.¡±

    ¡°Very well, Your Grace, please forgive my lack of knowledge regarding all of the Elves who were certain to be on my itinerary.¡± I leaned forward and kissed the ring. It seemed far too large for her long, thin fingers, yet it fit perfectly somehow.

    ¡°It''s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace. I should have assumed that the Church of ¨¦lois would have a say in all of these arrangements. The oversight is mine.¡±

    ¡°That is to be certain, Mister Bascombe. I knew you were raw, that this is your first attempt at a negotiation of this level.¡±

    I reddened at the near insult.

    She laughed out loud. ¡°I also know of your temper, Sir. Be calm. I mean no slight. It''s simply the nature of these proceedings. The Hard Coast Company trusts you. That''s all that''s important here. Come and let''s sit. I simply wanted to get a read on you before things got any further along.¡±

    ¡°I assure you, Your Grace, that I''ve been thoroughly vetted. By Queen May, Count Pelisir, even the Witch Queen herself.¡±

    ¡°Ah, yes, Mag''stula! Isn''t she an amazing beast?¡±

    This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

    ¡°Indeed, Your Grace! She certainly let everyone know she was here. The power she exudes is likely to push the air out of a room.¡±

    ¡°And you''ve met Mal''friq as well, Sir?¡±

    I wasn''t sure how to answer this. Did she know he was here? Was she fishing for knowledge?

    Noting my hesitation, she said ¡°Oh stop, Mister Bascombe. You''re in well over your head insofar as all of the backroom games and subterfuge go, I assure you. We Elves have hundreds of years individually and thousands of years collectively on you there.¡± She smiled broadly.

    I was beginning to warm to this woman, as condescending as she could be. It certainly wasn''t unwarranted.

    ¡°Apologies again, Your Grace, you''re right. I am in well over my head here, and I''m made aware of it with each passing moment. I do pick up on things quickly though. I just ask that you be patient with me.¡±

    ¡°Oh, I will be, Mister Bascombe. This isn''t my first time dealing with a Human. My first husband was a Human, some 500 years ago. That was a mistake. We were so in love, and his life was such a bright candle to just flicker out so quickly the way it did. I wasn''t prepared for that.¡±

    She could see the emotion on my face.

    ¡°Oh that was so very long ago, Mister Bascombe, but your sentiments are appreciated. I was almost disowned over that whole episode. I''m May''s aunt you see? Queen May, I should say. Her father, King Hembrik, was my brother. That''s how I''m found at my current position. It''s all very nepotistic.¡±

    ¡°That doesn''t dilute my power though. Of all the Elves who worship ¨¦lois, Gray Elves, Wood Elves, High Elves, all of the various subspecies, I am the Supreme Voice of the God. And He does appear to me in dreams. I''m not here to proselytize to you though, Sir. In fact, ¨¦lois has been silent with me on anything to do with the amber, and I don''t understand it. It''s certainly a matter of great import for our world, not just for Elves.¡±

    ¡°I''m shocked, Your Grace. But, for me, that''s for the best. It means I can trust you implicitly. If you were a faker, you''d pretend to everyone that you knew everything about what ¨¦lois wanted regarding the amber.¡±

    ¡°Your point is valid, Sir. I was hoping you''d pick up on that. You see, you''re the only one here without motives that could lead to great troubles for everyone involved.¡±

    She looked into my eyes intently for what seemed like several minutes. I sat quietly allowing it as she had already gained my trust.

    ¡°Mister Bascombe, I''m going to tell you some very important things right now, and you need to take them to heart.¡±

    She seemed so incredibly sincere. Yet I must still be careful who I trust in all of this. It seems there are no innocent parties but me involved, and even I didn''t know the full intentions of the Hard Coast Company.

    ¡°Yes, Your Grace, I sincerely appreciate your confidence in me. I hope it''s well-placed.¡±

    ¡°Oh, it is, Sir. Okay, listen and remember. You may trust me. You sense that. You may also trust Queen May and Count Pelisir.¡±

    I nodded as she spoke, taking it all in deeply. If I was wrong about her though ¡­

    ¡°You can trust Mal''friq to a degree, though I''m concerned he might use the power of the amber to take out Mag''stula and himself become a despot. Power can corrupt like that, Mister Bascombe.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Grace. I have read much about situations where it happened to royalty and leaders of every stripe.¡±

    ¡°You''ve read many fictions, Mister Bascombe. Please don''t rely on fictions to guide you here.¡± She laughed at herself and I got red again.

    ¡°Stop it Mister Bascombe, I''m sorry. It''s just you Humans study much more that isn''t real than that that is. And with so little time in this world. Not your fault, Sir. It''s a fault of your species for which you can''t be held to account.¡±

    She patted my knee as she said this last bit, catching me off guard. The familiarity wasn''t expected, and the almost motherly gesture made it seem that she knew me much better than she let on.

    ¡°I''m sure you know not to trust Mag''stula or the Swalesians? You''re much smarter than that.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Grace. That goes without saying. Either of them having the amber concession is unconscionable.¡±

    She patted my knee again and said ¡°Good, good. Yes, quite. And there''s one more party of whom you must be particularly aware, a Gray Elf with considerable power here. The gentleman''s name is Margrin Ephisiery¨®n. He is an amber merchant and broker who has been in the business going on 300 years and who has amassed considerable wealth in the process. He deals mainly with the amber coming through the Wood Elves at Iln¨ªst for now. Having a greater hand in the trade here would make him far too powerful, and in all honesty, it would not be surprising if he weren''t already doing business with the Gnolls or the Swalesians.¡±

    Margrin Ephisiery¨®n I had heard of. He came through Wikehold on occasion with the merchant caravans from the East. He didn''t have a pleasant reputation. In fact, he was rumored to have a hand in organized crime syndicates up and down the Hard Coast.

    ¡°Yes, Your Grace, I know the name fairly well. If rumor is fact, I hope not to cross paths with him at all.¡±

    She raised an eyebrow and said ¡°Oh, but you shall Good Sir. Don''t you doubt it. If not him directly, one of his agents. But, Mister Bascombe, don''t fear, please. If he hints at any violence or force, you are being carefully watched, as is your family back home.¡±

    That last part left me feeling more scared than even talk of Swalesian Assassins. Even though an attempt had already been made on my life, I was familiar with the syndicate and what they could do from entanglements they had with the Hard Coast Company. It made me feel better that my father wasn''t part of all of that. But there were times when we had guards outside the doors of our quiet little mansion on Almsbury Court, much to the consternation of our neighbors. I know he and the Hard Coast Company had run afoul of the syndicate a time or two.

    ¡°Very well, Mister Bascombe,¡± she said, patting my knee again and standing, ¡°let''s keep this meeting to ourselves for now, shall we?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Grace of course, and thank you for allowing me the opportunity to meet you in advance.¡±

    ¡°Oh, you''ll be tired of me before it''s all said and done, Mister Bascombe! Greer!¡± she shouted and the valet appeared immediately.

    ¡°Take Mister Bascombe back to his rooms and make sure he''s able to get at least an hour¡¯s sleep. He looks like death. Good day Mister Bascombe. Oh, and you can trust Greer, Mister Bascombe. He''s a good one.¡±

    ¡°Good day, Your Grace.¡± As I left, she stayed in the Chapel, turning to the altar and kneeling at a cushion there obviously reserved for a priest.

    It was just now four bells or so, and I had a chance at getting a decent nap in before I was called to sup. If I could sleep that is. My brain was sorting through all of the new information I had received. My concerns regarding my safety were resting heavy on me.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 6: Hes a Good One

    As we walked back to my rooms, Greer spoke over his shoulder, ¡°If I may, Mister Bascombe, the reason you''re feeling so tired is the, um, the Goblin''s Nog, Sir. Humans don''t handle it quite so well as we Elves do.¡±

    That made sense. I was fine before taking the dose. ¡°It''s just that Mag''stula was ¡­¡±

    ¡°Yes Sir, I''m aware of her invasive tactics. She isn''t as gentle as Count Pelisir. And, before you ask Sir, yes I do know everything that''s going on. I''ve been with this family for over 800 years. I''d be a poor servant if I knew less.¡±

    ¡°I see, Mister Greer, well that certainly makes sense. Allow me to apologize then for speaking down to you. Had I know¡­¡±

    ¡°Quite alright, Mister Bascombe. I am a servant after all. Just be aware that I''m one of the ones looking after you. All is not what it seems with me,¡± he laughed, ¡°I''m more than capable of defending you as well as any Assassin from Yagdiz.¡±

    A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    I laughed as well. ¡°Mister Greer, one thing I''ll be grateful for is when my presuppositions once again mean something. I thought I had a good head on my shoulders when I came here and now I don''t know if any of my knowledge is worth a damned thing.¡±

    ¡°Well, Sir, I can tell you for certain, when it comes to your experiences in Nez Ambr¨ªl, follow your eyes and your heart before you rely on your mind. If you have any questions, please come to me. And I mean come to me first before you bother Queen May. She has much on her plate these days.¡±

    ¡°You''ve got a deal, Mister Greer. After a nap, I may have some for you.¡±

    ¡°I look forward to it, Mister Bascombe. Oh, and no need to check your underbeds, you''ve had no new visitors. Not since the last one at least.¡±

    He left me to my rooms and to my bed, and I fell into a sleep as deep as the Abyss.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 7: The Prince Arrives

    I finally felt well rested the next time a knock came at my door. ¡°Come! If it''s unlocked!¡±

    I threw my robe about myself as I saw it was not Greer, rather, it was Count Pelisir. I blushed at my mistake. One should be fully dressed for a noble!

    ¡°It''s quite alright, Mister Bascombe. I gave Greer a quick break. You''re quite fine. I just came to get you because the Swalesians are about to make their grand entrance.¡±

    I suddenly realized that I should have been awake for this already. ¡°My apologies, My Lord, I should have been dressed to meet you down there.¡±

    ¡°Again, Mister Bascombe, it''s no worry. They are arriving much later than expected. I don''t think you''ll get to see their barges, but I''m sure their arrival here will be impressive enough.¡±

    The Swalesians relied on slave labor for their trips upriver. The aforementioned barges being hundred foot long galleys rowed by slaves to the beat of drums and whips. An absolutely disgusting display. They had been told that anything to do with their institution of slavery wasn''t welcome in Nez Ambr¨ªl, nor in the Taliswood at all. They had already ignored one condition of their participation, not counting the Assassin.

    ¡°It''s said they ran into some Hobgoblin trouble coming through the swamps down in the South. Had to take a circuitous route through the fens.¡±

    ¡°Look, Mister Bascombe, get yourself pulled together and meet me where you stood for the Gnolls¡¯ arrival. I''m eager to lay eyes on these horrid people.¡±

    ¡°Yes, My Lord, me as well. I''ve seen their ships in the harbor at Wikehold, in Sheerpoint Bay. Never met one though. Sorry, let me get dressed and I''ll meet with you shortly.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Mister Bascombe, if you''ll hold a moment, I''ve brought some more appropriate clothes for your wardrobe. Until we meet again, Sir!¡±

    ¡°Wait, what ¡­¡± But he was gone and six junior valets came in my rooms with enough clothes for a month of formal events, filling my wardrobe and laying out an outfit, a gorgeous lavender linen tunic with a silver silk jacket, black breeches and gray hose, with black leather shoes of a softness so as to make slippers obsolete. The kit was made whole with the addition of a stunning silver pommeled rapier hung by fine silver chains from a broad black leather belt. Like Count Pelisir¡¯s this pommel featured a fantastical gemstone. Utterly too big to be a diamond, the cost would be obscene, but by the gods what an exceptional bit of fakery!

    I had to take a long look at myself in the mirror inside the door of my wardrobe. I cut a very fine figure if I do say so. The outfit matched my black hair and blue eyes well. That had to be a fake diamond.

    I was escorted to the viewing area by four of the Palace Guard, their purple tabards with the seven pointed star stitched in white on their chests. They carried glaives that looked too elaborate to be anything other than ceremonial, yet their gleaming chainmail told me that they were ready for any eventuality. Their helms were topped with spikes that caught every bit of light that came their way, bouncing it about the corridor as we approached the pulley platform.

    My stomach sank as I stepped onto the contraption. I could see through a gap how far up we were and I had to fight myself not to turn around, or worse, throw up.

    One of the guards detected my hesitation and said, ¡°Just look straight ahead, Sir. Be over before you know it.¡±

    Noting his rank, I answered, ¡°Thank you much, Lieutenant. That should do the trick. Are you permanently assigned to me?¡±

    ¡°Um, yes Sir, but I''m not supposed to be talking to you like this,¡± he whispered back.

    ¡°Ah, understood Lieutenant. My apologies and as you were. Thank you again, anyway.¡±

    ¡°Sir!¡± was his response. And his advice truly did help. I just focused on the little shops along the boardwalk across the way and we had settled down no sooner than I had thought about looking to the ground.

    I had seen Sidra at her cafe but she didn''t see me. I guess waving would have been awkward and perhaps someone would want to know how I knew her. I wouldn''t want to cause trouble for her or the Count.

    Count Pelisir was standing precisely where he said he would be. Greeting me warmly he said, ¡°Now see, Bascombe? You definitely can look the part with some proper clothing. I know you''re a bachelor, but you mustn''t always look it!¡± He laughed at himself as he always did. I was a little embarrassed at being called out as having not dressed myself.

    ¡°My Lord, the clothes are splendid. They must have cost a fortune!¡±

    ¡°Ah, that they did Bascombe, that they did. I warn you though, if you misplace the Star of Innial¨ªn, it will be your hide!¡±

    Seeing my confusion, he said ¡°The diamond Mister Bascombe, the ever loving diamond! Surely you noticed?¡±

    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    I was speechless. A diamond that large would be worth half a million in gold at the very least. ¡°My Lord, if you''re not jesting, and I hope you are, I can''t possi ¡­¡±

    ¡°Hush, Mister Bascombe. Now there''s an end to it. Rejecting gifts? Why a Goblin has better etiquette. You should be ashamed!¡± And he laughed heartily at his humor.

    ¡°What else have you accomplished today besides being in your cocoon? I know you were able to meet Mal''friq.¡±

    ¡°Yes, My Lord, we got along swimmingly. Very interesting character, that one.¡± I hesitated for a moment, not knowing if I should mention Mother Felistia. I really didn''t want to hide anything from Count Pelisir, even as I told her I wouldn''t say anything.

    ¡°I had a meeting with Mother Felistia as well. Also a most wonderful person.¡±

    He looked into my eyes, almost angrily, ¡°Impossible, Sir! She''s in Iln¨ªst for the rest of this week! Wanted to be away from all the spying and assassinating and what not!¡±

    ¡°I assure you, My Lord, why would I make up such a thing?¡±

    ¡°Did anyone else see her Bascombe? Think!¡±

    ¡°Well, of course, My Lord, Greer took me to see her in the Chapel.¡±

    Turning to my guard, he barked. ¡°Get Greer, straightaway, and bring him here with utmost speed!¡± The lieutenant I had spoken with earlier double timed back to the pulley platform to fetch Greer.

    He looked thoughtful, ¡°Maybe she snuck back in for a chance to meet with you. I could be mistaken.¡± He bade me describe her and allowed that it was a perfect description, even down to her mannerisms, and that ring.

    The next few moments were really very tense as we awaited Greer¡¯s arrival. When he finally did appear, Count Pelisir held him by the shoulders and asked directly, ¡°Have you seen Mother Felistia, Greer?¡±

    Greer¡¯s response chilled me, ¡°Of course not, My Lord. She''s in Iln¨ªst. Are you feeling okay?¡±

    I interjected, ¡°Greer, who did you take me to see in the Chapel this afternoon?¡±

    My jaw dropped when he said, ¡°Why, it was the Queen, Sir, Queen May! What goes on here?¡±

    ¡°And Queen May was with me the whole afternoon,¡± said the Count,  ¡°discussing the Swalesian issue. You both have been played!¡±

    He was pacing the paving stones. ¡°Dammit! It was likely Mag''stula herself casting illusions. From now on, you go nowhere without me.¡±

    Giving Greer a blistering gaze, he said ¡°You''re slipping, Good Sir! You couldn''t detect the illusion? Nevermind, you obviously neglected to try. She tricked you with a child''s spell!¡±

    ¡°Now see here¡­¡± I felt I should defend Greer. He was but an old Elf after all, but Count Pelisir gave me a withering gaze and put his finger to my lips to quiet me. ¡°Remember your place, Mister Bascombe! You probably should know now that this has happened, that Greer here is using the same spell. We sent the real Greer on holiday to the High Elf city of Nez Clar? so that we could proceed with this ruse while you were here.¡±

    He was whispering through gritted teeth. ¡°The Elf before you is ?rdelon, our greatest Wizard! As powerful as Mag''stula, yet she has come in and gotten past him with a damned parlor trick!¡±

    Just then, the great Silver Gate began to open to trumpets blaring and drums beating thunderously.

    Count Pelisir''s gaze went back and forth between the two of us, Greer, or ?rdelon I should say, and me. ¡°We''ll discuss this later, ?rdelon! You''re dismissed!¡±

    Bringing his eyes back to me, he said ¡°I can''t fault you for this, Mister Bascombe. ?rdelon, on the other hand, will feel my displeasure I assure you! This is unconscionable! Okay,¡± he breathed deeply, in and out a few times, ¡°now let me get my pleasant face back on.¡±

    And just like that, he was affable and welcoming Count Pelisir once more. ¡°You too, Mister Bascombe!¡± he said as he reached into my beautiful jacket to tickle my ribs.

    I was caught completely off guard, giggling like a child as I protested. He quickly pulled his hand away. ¡°Now, you look the part again. We must present the Swalesian delegation with a face showing little concern. We''re quite happy they''re here!¡±

    The trumpets sounded behind us once again as they did that morning while Queen May was being lowered. Radiant as usual.

    I''m guessing there were 100 soldiers ahead and behind the carriage of  Prince Anoresti. All large Human males wearing lamellar armor with scarlet tabards showing a golden fist, their helmets like spiked metal caps tied up in scarlet turbans, the late afternoon sun reflecting off of the rows of poleaxes, all of it moving in perfect rhythm.

    Queen May had arrived at her mark as the Prince''s carriage pulled up to his mark. A young valet jumped down from the footboard to open the carriage door with utmost ceremony. The carriage¡¯s window coverings had thus far been drawn, allowing no one a sight of the Prince.

    As the door gently opened, a white stockinged leg capped with a bejewelled black slipper swung out onto the carriage''s steps. There were breeches of golden brocade, followed by an arm clothed the same, and finally, the Prince fully emerged.

    He wore no crown, his longish black hair rustling against itself in the light wind. His complexion was lightly swarthy, like amber perhaps, his eyes blue. He was neither tall nor short, light not heavy, perfectly average but a good looking man to be certain. He had a reputation for that. Possibly why he was the representative here today.

    Outpacing his personal guard, he walked briskly up to Queen May who tittered lightly at the sight of the soldiers rushing behind the man. He bowed deeply before her and she gave a minor curtsy in response. He leaned forward to whisper something in her ear, and I felt Count Pelisir bristle. He wasn''t behind her as he was this morning. It was just the monarch and the monarch-to-be standing on that paved path.

    Again, the tittering and Prince Anoresti smiled at his effect on the woman. As with the morning¡¯s reception, Queen May extended her arm toward the Royal Palace, inviting the Prince to his rooms.

    Count Pelisir spoke hotly, ¡°And now that that''s over! Come with me, Mister Bascombe. We need to take care of a few things before we sup.¡±

    We stepped quickly back to the pulley platform, and on to what I assumed were the Count¡¯s private rooms. I had the feeling I was in trouble and was being called to the headmaster''s office.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 8: The Count and Me

    Count Pelisir''s rooms were lavishly appointed when compared to Queen May''s. The lobby was a sitting room with book- and scroll-lined walls that looked absolutely ancient. He indicated that I should seat myself in one of two wingback chairs of silver and lavender damask on either end of a counter level with a settle that matched the chairs.

    As I sat, Count Pelisir rang a tiny bell on a side table and a junior valet came scrambling. ¡°Hm, let''s see,¡± the Count said, ¡°It''s Timmins, yes?¡±

    The child absolutely beamed, ¡°Yes, My Lord! Just so!¡±

    ¡°Very well Timmins, have one of the others ready us a coffee service. A pot, two cups, sugar, cream, etcetera. I need you to run across the street to the Esti Pl¨¢d and grab me a sack of penny rolls and herb butter. There''s a gold piece in it if you do well, Timmins!¡±

    The boy quite literally looked as if his head would explode from joy as he tried to run in three different directions at once. Then he stopped. ¡°Um, My Lord, I haven''t any pennies to buy the rolls.¡±

    He looked horribly downcast until Count Pelisir gave him a small purse swollen with coins. ¡°No worries Timmins. Take this purse, pay for the rolls, keep a royal for yourself and give the rest to the waitress Sidra. You know the one I mean?¡±

    ¡°Yes, My Lord, your nie ¡­¡± He caught himself quickly, ¡°I mean yes, My Lord, the pretty one!¡±

    Pelisir''s face grew grim for a moment. ¡°There''s talk about her, isn''t there Timmins? Be honest!¡±

    ¡°Y-y-yes, My Lordship!¡± The lad was starting to cry, ¡°but I didn''t start none of it. My Lord, you must believe me, Sir!¡±

    ¡°There, there Timmins! Don''t be in such a panic! I know it wasn''t you. But you''ll help me find the scoundrels spreading these rumors, won''t you?¡±

    ¡°Absolutely, My Lord! I overheard Mister Greer and the old Wizard talking about it! I don''t think they meant to spread it and I shouldn''t have been eavesdropping, I''m sorry, My Lord, but they do speak rather loudly and it''s usually juicy stuff!¡±

    ¡°Why those gossiping old hens! I''ll fix that. Thank you Timmins, now off with you!¡±

    The boy sprinted out the door like a gazelle, and Count Pelisir took the seat opposite me, crossing his legs and folding his hands.

    ¡°Well, I guess that secret¡¯s out. If Greer and that fool Wizard know, then it''s common knowledge.¡±

    ¡°I admit to not knowing the entire situation, My Lord, but it''s usually the case that secret''s like these are best aired out. You obviously care a great deal for the girl; you shouldn''t have to hide it.¡±

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    He sighed and changed the subject. ¡°Prince Anoresti¡¯s entourage was something to see, hey?¡±

    ¡°It most certainly was, My Lord. And I didn''t feel any special powers coming from him, except for being good looking and dashing if any ladies still fall for that tired old routine.¡±

    ¡°Hah! Makes you jealous, does he, Mister Bascombe? Yes, me too. Thank the gods he won''t live for long! Oh er, apologies, Sir, I forgot your Humanity for a moment. Here''s to hoping you''ll live a long life!¡±

    He laughed, ¡°And nothing to toast it with. Where''s that coffee?¡±

    Just then two of the junior valets scurried in with the coffee service, asking if we needed anything further.

    ¡°Yes,¡± the Count replied, ¡°one of you bring me the book entitled Tales from the Hard Coast from my personal library. It''s in burgundy leather and bound by a clasp.¡±

    ¡°Yes, My Lord,¡± they chirped in unison.

    ¡°Are you going to teach me about the Hard Coast today My Lord? I have my failings, but that is a matter in which I''m well-versed .¡±

    ¡°Just be patient, Mister Bascombe. There are lessons you didn''t know you needed, I assure you.¡± Again chuckling under his breath. This time like the cat who''d cornered the mouse.

    Both boys came running back into the room, each with a hand on the book in question. ¡°Thank you boys both. Now leave us. And if I catch anyone eavesdropping around here, it''ll be the lash!¡±

    They couldn''t have moved any faster. Apparently spying was something of a pastime in Nez Ambr¨ªl. The two rascals certainly looked guilty enough.

    ¡°Now, Mister Bascombe, I have a gift for you. Please hand me your rapier.¡±

    I unhitched the thing from my belt and handed it over. He pressed the top of the pommel down and turned it slightly, the diamond popped right out.

    ¡°Aha!¡± I proclaimed, ¡°I knew you wouldn''t let me keep such a treasure!¡±

    He looked at me dryly, ¡°Don''t be simple, Mister Bascombe. This is but a chunk of quartz. Did you think I''d gift you the Star of Innial¨ªn? It''s a treasure of our people and worth half a million royals if it''s worth a copper! Egad, Sir, I''m not that soft in the head!¡±

    As I watched, he opened the clasp of the book and revealed an empty space inside, perfect for secreting away worthless chunks of quartz. I was fairly perturbed about the diamond thing.

    I watched as he pulled a replica of the quartz from the hidden compartment and snapped it into place in my rapier¡¯s pommel. Giving it a twist until it gave a satisfying click.

    ¡°There now, Mister Bascombe. You''re all ready for your next adventure.¡±

    ¡°Is that the true Star of Innial¨ªn, then?¡±

    ¡°Of course not, Mister Bascombe, don''t be preposterous! For your needs right now, it''s better!¡±

    ¡°Are you sure, Count Pelisir? Half a million gold royals would take me far on the Hard Coast. That''s more than my father has, I believe.¡±

    As I was musing and spending my non-existent wealth, Timmins came back with the penny rolls and the Count and I set to on them and some good strong coffee.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 9: An Eye for the Truth

    As we sat back from our feast of rolls and coffee, Count Pelisir sighed. ¡°Okay, Mister Bascombe, this is the important part. No more taking chances that others will spot these illusions and save your life in the future. Now, I take it that you saw how I took out the quartz and replaced it?¡±

    ¡°I think I can replicate the maneuvers, My Lord.¡±

    He handed me back my rapier and indicated that he wanted me to show him.

    ¡°By the gods let me do something right,¡± I was thinking to myself.

    Just as he did, I pressed down on the top of the pommel, gave it a light twist, and the new gem popped right out.

    ¡°Excellent, Sir!¡± he said while clapping. I had to smile myself , feeling I had actually accomplished something.

    ¡°Now, Mister Bascombe, what you have in your hand there is called a Gem of Pure Sight. I''m going to let you give it a quick test.¡±

    He left the room momentarily and I could hear glasses clinking together. He came back into the room with a wine bottle and two wine glasses that he was holding by their stems.

    ¡°Do you know your wines, Mister Bascombe?¡±

    ¡°I should fancy I do, My Lord. Will you prove me wrong?¡±

    ¡°I should hope not, Mister Bascombe, for this is an easy one. Read this label and tell me the vintage.¡±

    It was one I recognized certainly, a vintage from one of my father''s own vineyards. ¡°I see you recognize it!¡± He laughed. ¡°Shall we have a glass?¡±

    ¡°In all honesty, I''m not a fan of my father''s grapes but this one does sell very well. It''s a favorite of the royals in Feersland.¡±

    ¡°Now, humor me Mister Bascombe. Put that gem to your eye and see if you can read the fine print on the label.¡±

    Doing as he said, I put the gem to my left eye and read the label. To my horror, the bottle was no longer the same at all. Rather it was a quart bottle of rat poison! Jerking my head back I said, ¡°What in blazes? What trickery is this, My Lord?¡±

    ¡°I merely used a little cantrip I learned as a child to create an illusion. Not a strong one mind you, but if you''re not looking for it it''s effective enough.¡±

    He walked over to the window behind the settle and beckoned me over. ¡°But that''s mere parlor tricks, Mister Bascombe. You hold a powerful bit of magic there. Come, let me show you.¡±

    Intrigued, I walked over quickly to see what there was for me to see that made him so anxious.

    If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

    ¡°Now, hold the gem to your eye and just take in what you see out there.¡±

    I did as he said. I looked at a few groups of Elves gathered by the road, with and without the gem. Nothing of note appeared to me other than one of the women looking decidedly older with the gem than without it. But then I noticed something glowing in a tall unoccupied tree across the boulevard. Maybe too thin to be built upon.

    As I concentrated on the glowing, it was as if I flew through the gem and came face to face with a Swalesian, sitting in the tree and obscured by an article of clothing that blended in perfectly with the needles and bark of the limb in which she was sitting. She had a crossbow cocked and ready for something. I couldn''t gather her intent except to know it was obviously malevolent.

    ¡°There, My Lord, in that tree there!¡±

    ¡°Yes, Mister Bascombe. She''s been there since yesterday. It really is impressive how they slip in undetected. I''ve counted twelve.¡±

    Then, there! I saw a child at play across the boulevard, but it wasn''t an Elven child at all, it was an Aardgnoll Assassin. And another over there by those horses!

    ¡°There, Sir, you see that we have countermeasures out to meet the Swalesians before they''ll have a chance to act.¡±

    I studied the gem closely. ¡°No,¡± he said, ¡°obviously that''s not the only gem of its kind out there. And the good news is that the Swalesians don''t have comparable toys at their disposal. We''re not sure about Mag''stula though. She may well have that and better. Her magic really is extraordinary. By ¨¦lois, if she had the Mana inside that amber, she''d be ruling us all in no time.¡±

    ¡°She must not know you possess that, Mister Bascombe. If she tries another deceit with you, you must play along if you can. It won''t be easy, I know.¡±

    Now here is where I might have my chance to shine! ¡°I''ve actually had plenty of acting classes, My Lord! This might be the most qualified I''ve been for anything I''ve been tasked with since I''ve been here.¡±

    ¡°Yet, and no offense, I can''t help but notice that you aren''t a famous actor if that ever was a dream of yours.¡±

    ¡°Quite so, My Lord, quite so. I wanted to be a Wizard, a famous general, an acrobat, an Elf even! The acting bug did not stay with me past my first year of college. I fell in love with the law instead. Then mercantile law, and, well, here I am.¡±

    ¡°I also wanted to be an adventurer, and I see that I''m finding here, on this trade mission, elements of adventure. Does that make me an adventurer, My Lord?¡±

    ¡°So little time, and you Humans spend so much of it daydreaming! To no end whatsoever!¡±

    He sighed again and sat down. The light was getting low outside and night would fall shortly.

    ¡°Why don''t you go to your rooms and freshen up, Mister Bascombe? They''ll be calling us for supper in the Great Hall within the hour I would imagine. I shouldn''t have eaten those rolls! Argh!¡± We laughed together at that. I had no appetite whatsoever.

    Back in my rooms, I fiddled with the gem. Looking out my window at the world passing by as the sun went down. Miraculously, I could see perfectly clear in the dark with the stone, as if in broad daylight.

    There was a loud rapping at my door and I realized I had dozed off in my sitting room.

    ¡°Mister Bascombe,¡± it was the fake Greer I''m guessing, ¡°I''ve come to fetch you to the Great Hall. You have five minutes before they begin to sup and you need to be there. I''ll be in the corridor.¡±

    Maybe I did have a little bit of an appetite. Perhaps they''ll have something with meat for a change! This forced vegetarian diet was getting to me!

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 10: A Feast and a Knave

    The fake Greer was waiting outside for me when I stepped from my rooms. It was pleasant to see that my four guards were still on duty. My guess was that their shift would be ending soon and another four would take their place. The corridors were dark now save for well-placed candles along the path.

    I could hear the Great Hall already. Wooden chairs squealing and scraping across the wooden floor. The hustle and bustle of the servants and the kitchen staff coordinating the service. Plenty of chatter and the occasional laughter.

    But this wasn''t an occasion for fun. Not really. This was a grand show, bringing all of the parties in this amber war together to thump chests or however that looked in the diplomatic arena. I was shown to my seat at the table against the far wall, the center of which was reserved for Queen May. Count Pelisir sat to her right and my seat was next to his. A terribly provocative move on their part, I thought. Seating me so close to the decision makers. I guess being a delegation of one has its privileges. The other guests had already arrived except for Prince Anoresti and Mag''stula. King Mestil, II of the Wood Elves was to Queen May¡¯s left.

    The Gnolls were at the table against the left wall of the room and the Swalesians to the right. I tried to pick out Margrin Ephisiery¨®n and was certain I had him. Longish hair for a Gray Elf, wearing clothes and jewelry that could buy a small kingdom.

    I asked Count Pelisir as we waited for the Queen''s arrival. ¡°Yes, indeed, that''s the Elf himself. Cuts a figure, does he not?¡±

    I had to agree, but the Elf also looked evil in a way I can''t explain. Like someone who abuses animals or picks on the weak for sport. Just something in the eyes, predatorial. He caught me looking at him and gave me a smile and a nod. I wasn''t entirely certain, but I had the sudden image of him being at our house in Almsbury Court when I was a child. But then I was sure. My father had entertained this horrible creature at some point, and it made me question my mission here even more. Was I as pure as all that, after all?

    Hiding my mouth with my hand to deter lip readers, I let Count Pelisir know of my memory.

    ¡°That wouldn''t be entirely unusual would it, Mister Bascombe? I mean both men are well off, primarily merchants. Though your father is known as a very effective advocate in criminal proceedings. Perhaps he had been sought out for that purpose?¡±

    That made good sense. My father did have a reputation for getting his hands dirty with his legendary criminal defense work. He didn''t even need the money; he just enjoyed the fight and the attention he garnered in the courtroom.

    Had I not known better, I would think Margrin Ephisiery¨®n couldn''t possibly remember me. But, like the rest of us, he''s certain to have done his due diligence before showing up here. He has a biography for every seat at these three tables.

    I should make a disclaimer. I did not do my due diligence, obviously. There was far too much that I didn''t know.

    One thing that has tugged at the back of my mind over the course of this long day was why the Gray Elves wanted to dispense of the amber concession in the first place. That was something I needed to bring directly to Queen May. It would have been her decision, at any rate. But why?

    Count Pelisir leaned over to me and said, ¡°You have so many questions, Mister Bascombe. And no, I''m not reading your thoughts. It''s on your face like newsprint.¡±

    ¡°I don''t mean to appear distracted or distant, My Lord. But you''re correct. I have many questions. Eventually I''d like to know how we plan on pulling this off.¡± And it was my turn to chuckle.

    ¡°We haven''t come that far just yet, Mister Bascombe. Rest assured the greatest minds in the kingdom are on it.¡±

    ¡°Meaning you and Queen May, My Lord?¡±

    ¡°Your senses grow keener by the hour, Sir.¡±  We both laughed out loud , drawing unimpressed glances from the Gnolls and Swalesians.

    Finally, a single trumpet indicated the arrival of the Queen and King Mestil. The assembly stood until they had been seated. Mag''stula and Prince Anoresti were still absent. It was horrible etiquette to come in after the Queen and they knew it. Just some sort of power play. I wondered if they were together.

    And just like that, the main doors opened and both stepped in to take their seats to much murmuring. Once they had been seated, Count Pelisir rose from his chair and waited for quiet before he spoke.

    ¡°It''s good to see all of our friends, old and new, gathered for this occasion. If anyone is unaware then I''ve done a poor job, but I am Count Pelisir, Chief Trade Advisor to the Queen. I welcome you all.¡±

    There was a brief round of applause as everyone congratulated themselves for being in attendance.

    ¡°We''re not here to talk about me, of course. We''re here to talk about amber. Particularly, about ¨¦liks, the most pure, most radiant, most expensive ¡­¡±

    Numerous greedy chuckles here.

    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°It''s the most desired amber in this world, without question. In fact, it''s one of the most prized substances in this world. More so than the costliest spices from the South and East. By carat weight, it fetches more gold than rubies, sapphires, emeralds; only diamonds have kept even with ¨¦liks on the market.¡±

    Many murmurs of agreement.

    ¡°To this point, we''ve skirted the main issue, however, and it''s time we began to include it, pun intended, in our conversations regarding the ¨¦liks. We''re all keenly aware that the pure amber isn''t the biggest prize here, rather it''s the stones which carry inclusions, particularly the trapped bodies of ancient insects.¡±

    At this point, there was utter confusion. No one in attendance would have thought the matter would be addressed directly. Above all the conversation this had started, Count Pelisir tapped his water goblet with his table knife until quiet was restored.

    ¡°Yes, my friends, there''s no sense in dancing around the issue. We know what''s in the ¨¦licks and we know how it might be used. This ups the ante considerably. The included amber must be considered to be worth at least twice as much as the pure product.¡±

    There were numerous gasps at this announcement. Many in attendance were hoping to pay market value and take the haul of ancient Mana as well.

    At this point, Queen May stood, and a shocked Count Pelisir took his seat. Obviously this was unscripted.

    ¡°Quiet!¡± Queen May bellowed. Like a lion''s roar from a house cat. It got the attention of everyone gathered.

    ¡°The fact is my friends, that we have much deliberation ahead of us on this issue. It''s not a simple matter of who takes what to market. There are considerations of abuse of the power. War is a very real outcome, potentially. We Gray Elves would as soon be done with the whole mess. We don''t want the concession, and thus, why you''re here. But we''d be doing the world a disservice by being poor stewards of the amber while we still have options. We will not go down in history as the race that allowed genocide and despotism. Nay, not allowed, but facilitated it. Collectively, our conscience is better than that!¡±

    As she paused, the room was as quiet as a mausoleum. No one was quite sure what to make of all this honesty being thrown about. That wasn''t diplomacy. That was lunacy.

    Queen May resumed, ¡°In the end, no one party will leave here with the concession along with all of the included amber. All of the amber with inclusions, along with included amber from the Wood Elves stores, will be divided among the various parties here, including the Aardgnolls.¡±

    At this point, Mal''friq showed himself, coming to sit in the heretofore empty seat to my right. As he entered the room, Mag''stula¡¯s glare could burn holes through steel.

    ¡°I object!¡± she bellowed slamming her great paw down on the table, knocking over wine and candles. As servants rushed over to contain the mess, she said ¡°There was nothing in our invitation that suggested that the Aardgnolls would be represented! They have no power! No authority!¡±

    Queen May addressed Mag''stula calmly, ¡°They have gold, My Queen. And much of it. That''s the common denominator between all the representatives here ¡ª the desire and the ability to pay.¡±

    Mag''stula was having none of it. ¡°Him being here unannounced is an ambush! It endangers the trust we have in the process!¡± she shrieked.

    Queen May attempted to calm the Witch Queen, ¡°Your Majesty, Mal''friq, the Aardgnolls¡¯ lone representative , made a sufficient case that his safety was at risk if his presence was to be announced aforehand.¡±

    Before Mag''stula could fire off more objections, Queen May said in as calm a voice as she could manage given the situation, ¡°For now, good friends, let us enjoy one another''s company, have some wonderful Elven food and drink, enjoy some Goblin''s Nog if you wish but only in moderation!¡± She looked at me as she said this last bit.

    Mag''stula stood again and yelled over the din of servants bringing in the food. ¡°And, as usual, there will be no meat for those of us who are carnivores?¡±

    Queen May quickly responded, ¡°I think you''ll be surprised, My Queen! Our Wizards have been hard at work in an attempt to satisfy all appetites!¡±

    With this announcement, eight servants brought in two halves of a spit-roasted bull, placing a half on either end of the Gnolls¡¯ table. It was quite pleasant to see Mag''stula at a loss for words as her entourage began to feed with gusto.

    Count Pelisir leaned over to me and said, ¡°Our Wizards created all that meat using beans and magic, Mister Bascombe. Basically out of thin air. No animals were harmed at all.

    As impressed as I was, I found myself wishing I was at the Gnolls'' table. The smell was intoxicating. We did have an excellent lentil soup with garlic loaves, cheeses and fresh tomatoes, mushrooms sauteed in olive oil, and the wines were heavenly, but the meat. I sighed.

    I was having a wonderful time eating and chatting with the Count, Mal''friq, and Queen May, but I kept catching the same three glaring at me: Mag''stula, Margrin Ephisiery¨®n, and Prince Anoresti. They were not at all happy with my place at the table. My whole presence there would take some diplomacy to smooth over. I was the outlier.

    They all knew the incredible wealth and power of the Hard Coast Company. Perhaps I put too soft a face to that reputation.

    As the evening wrapped up, there was still some tension in the room, but a full stomach will quieten the loudest voice. I made my goodbyes and slipped out before I got trapped in conversation for which I wasn''t prepared. I hadn''t overindulged on the wine, but I was definitely feeling its effect.

    Before I could reach my rooms, I could hear the quick clopping of shoes on wood and quickened my pace. My guard was with me so I don''t know why I was so anxious.

    ¡°Mister Bascombe!¡± the cry came. And I turned to see to whom the voice belonged. It was Margrin Ephisiery¨®n. Of all the luck! I didn''t stop.

    ¡°Mister Ephisiery¨®n! Well met, Good Sir! I''m afraid you must forgive me. My stomach is at war with itself as I speak! Too much cheese, I believe!¡±

    I could hear his footsteps slow, ¡°Oh dear, Mister Bascombe! Have your guard bring you some water from the mineral springs anon! It does wonders. I shall accost you tomorrow Sir. We''ve much to discuss! Goodnight!¡±

    ¡°Goodnight, Mister Ephisiery¨®n. I look forward to it!¡±

    Finally back in my rooms, I disrobed and put my head directly to pillow, shutting out the world as I shut my eyes.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 11: Rapiers at Dawn

    ?rdelon/Greer woke me with the sunrise the next morning. Back to the land of the living! I had been out like I was dead last night. No dreams ¡­ no, wait, there was a dream.

    It was Margrin Ephisiery¨®n with two very thuggish compatriots, chasing me, saying they just wanted to talk. It was brief, thankfully. I wouldn''t be able to elude him so well in my waking hours.

    ¡°Good morning, Mister Bascombe. I trust you slept well?¡±

    ¡°Is that you talking, ?rdelon? Or is it Greer''s doppelganger waking me?¡±

    ¡°Sir,¡± he whispered, ¡°if you please, the Queen insists we continue this ruse for the time being. Someone may be listening.¡±

    ¡° I see. Very well. I slept splendidly, Greer!¡± I said for the world to hear.

    ¡°You''ll be pleased to note, Mister Bascombe, that my fellow Wiz¡­ er, the Wizards here have created you a magnificent, non-vegetarian breakfast! How does that sound?¡±

    ¡°It sounds wonderful, Greer. Let''s see what they''ve come up with.¡±

    I pulled my robe about me and took a seat at my breakfast table. A cloche was there waiting along with a coffee service for one and a glass of what looked to be freshly squeezed apple juice.

    As I picked up my fork and knife, Greer uncovered the cloche and presented me with a splendid looking array of breakfast foods. Hot scones, a rasher of bacon, crispy fried potatoes, and a soft-boiled egg with a tiny pitcher of butter on the side. My mouth was watering as I spoke next.

    ¡°Sir! Tell your associates that they have surely outdone themselves. What a splendid looking plate!¡±

    I dove right in, eating as if I hadn''t eaten since I''d arrived. The effort put into making me feel comfortable was very much appreciated, and the food simply fantastic.

    ?rdelon had obviously played a large part in putting this together because he watched me eat every bite, bouncing up and down on his heels to see if everything was satisfactory. Then he started trying to get my attention, pointing to himself then at the food, letting me know it was his creation.

    ¡°Yes, yes, thank you sincerely, Greer, that will be all.¡± What an annoying Elf that one is.

    Before he left, he interrupted me trying to savor my breakfast once again, ¡°Mister Bascombe, when you''re ready, Sir, Count Pelisir has requested your presence in the gymnasium. I''ve brung an outfit for you to wear in the armchair over there.¡±

    ¡°By the gods, the Elf does love dressing me. I feel as if I''m a plaything, Greer!¡±

    ¡°There are much worse places to be than on Count Pelisir''s good side, Mister Bascombe. You should enjoy it. You can learn much from someone who has lived over 500 years as well!¡±

    ¡°You''re right, my friend, I just get irritated easily. I''ve been told I''m the world''s youngest curmudgeon by women who''ve left me for it. I have no idea why I''m here, Greer. The more I think about it, I''m supremely under-qualified and I don''t get along with people very well. Surely, that''s one of the more desired traits for a diplomat?¡±

    ¡°One would think so, Sir. But I''m not going to feed your self-pity. I have much better to do, no offense.¡±

    ¡°How am I not to take offen¡­¡± Cutting me off mid-sentence, the Wizard said, ¡°I''ll be waiting for you in the corridor, Mister Bascombe. I''ll escort you to the gymnasium. Please wear what I''ve brung.¡±

    ¡°Very well, I''ll play the doll once more. Let''s see what the Count has dressed me as today!¡±

    It was a simple outfit, white linen tunic, black hose, broad black belt, and black slippers. In the gymnasium. This was a fencing date. I clipped my rapier to the belt and stepped into the corridor to follow my valet/Wizard/spy to meet up with the Count.

    The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

    <hr>

    The gymnasium was rather large for the size of the Palace in general. Perhaps one hundred feet long by fifty feet wide. There were a number of fencing blades, rapiers, ¨¦p¨¦es, foils, sabres, all blunted and dull.

    I think the Count underestimated me this time. I''ve taken many hours of fencing lessons and typically have at least two bouts a week back home. I''m no elite swordsman, but I have won multiple matches in Wikehold and on the Hard Coast. I went to have a look at the practice blades in case I might need to use one.

    As I was browsing the inventory, a shout came from behind, ¡°En-garde, you knave!¡± As Count Pelisir came at me waving his rapier wildly. I got into my stance and replied, ¡°En-garde, you loathsome ne''er-do-well!¡±

    As I assumed he would, the Count went for the lunge immediately. I performed a fluid esquive, stepping to the side, letting his inertia carry him through and past me. The Count stepped into a forward recovery, planning to surprise me. On his next lunge, I employed a prise de fer, disarming him, and put my rapier¡¯s point to his neck.

    ¡°Ah! Well the man is full of surprises! That was quite good, Mister Bascombe. I sought to play with you and got played with instead.¡±

    ¡°I must be modest, My Lord. Two lunges? That''s amateur fencing, Sir. No disrespect intended.¡±

    ¡°No, you''re right, Mister Bascombe. You''re clearly my better here. Perhaps you can show me a few maneuvers?¡±

    ¡°Of course, My Lord, but let''s play with practice blades, shall we?¡±

    Just then, four men stepped into the gymnasium, four Humans. One of them was Prince Anoresti. The other three I recognized as officers from his Royal Guard. They were all dressed as were we.

    Count Pelisir leaned into me and whispered, ¡°They say he''s the best swordsman in the land. You should challenge him.¡±

    I laughed heartily at that, the Count clearly misreading my abilities.

    ¡°Is there something funny, gentlemen?¡± the Prince asked us.

    ¡°Ah, no, Your Royal Highness! My friend, the Count, was just suggesting that I challenge you, but he apparently knows very little about swordplay. Your reputation precedes you, Sir.¡±

    Good gods this man looked insufferably arrogant, and I certainly didn''t intend on running afoul of him and his rapier.

    ¡°But, Mister Bascombe, you laughed as if you had seen something funny when we entered this hall.¡±

    ¡°Again, Your Highness, I was merely laughing at the mistake my friend the Count was making in his assessment of my sword skills. Nothing more, Your Highness, I assure you.¡±

    ¡°You speak with a diplomat''s tongue, Sir. Whether I can trust you or not, I don''t know. Maybe we should have a little assault so that I might judge your skills for myself. It''s a shame to see the Count''s faith in you go unrewarded. Please, Mister Bascombe, humor me. I, too, love laughter and joy.¡±

    ¡°Very well, Your Highness, but no blood and we use the practice blades.¡±

    ¡°Count Pelisir, am I wrong in believing that the highest in rank picks the terms of engagement?¡± the Prince asked in his thick Swalesian accent. It''s unusual that these days Common is spoken almost universally as the first language. In Swalesia, it''s a distant second to their mother tongue. Their grasp of Common is typically rather limited.

    But the question was posed to Count Pelisir and there was only one correct answer. ¡°Yes, Your Highness, the ranking individual chooses the terms. Sorry Bascombe.¡±

    ¡°Quite alright my friend. I''m the idiot who laughed, after all.¡±

    ¡°Very well, Mister Bascombe, the terms are standard rapiers and first blood.¡± Then it was his turn to let loose a hearty laugh. ¡°We do this honorably. As men. We are no longer children, Sir!¡±

    I unsheathed my blade and took the center of the piste as Prince Anoresti slowly sauntered over to his position. An elderly Elf with competency as a referee, observed the proceedings.

    ¡°En-garde!¡± he called. We both raised our blades. ¡°Pret!¡± I''m quite sure I was visibly trembling, but I took a few great breaths and calmed myself to what extent I could. ¡°Allez!¡±

    The match had begun and Prince Anoresti began beating my blade with his to distract me. I stomped my foot on the ground, which caught the Prince off-guard momentarily. He suddenly looked a little unsure.

    Ah! But there it was, that overabundance of confidence coming off the man like a stink. It blinded him. And then, you can''t be serious! A hop and a lunge, then my parry and riposte. I didn''t even move my feet. His rapier clattered to the straw mat upon which we stood and he looked at me in bewilderment. I flicked the top of my blade across his Adam''s Apple. Just enough to get a nice trickle of blood.

    ¡°Thank you, Your Highness. I believe that concludes today''s practice.¡±

    ¡°I want a rematch!¡± he said through clenched teeth.

    ¡°Apologies, Your Highness, but you made the terms. First blood. We''ve had first blood. Thank you for the match.¡±

    The man was absolutely fuming, but the Code was the Code. ¡°I''ll have my satisfaction, Mister Bascombe! Of that you may be certain!¡±

    For some reason, that morning, I was forced into making a powerful enemy. I would see a lot of him in the coming days. Oh, and he had Assassins everywhere. Hopefully Mal''friq would handle his end of that bargain.

    Word went around Nez Ambr¨ªl like wildfire that day that Prince Anoresti had been bested with sword. And apparently he was so angry over the matter, that he killed one of his officers during some light sparring after we left. I feel that keenly, though the man be Swalesian, he didn''t deserve death.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 12: Unwelcome Guests

    It wasn''t even yet eight bells. I was, well, I don''t know how to describe the feeling. My mind was racing thinking about that officer, if he had a family. He was a slaver. I had to keep telling myself that.

    I had put Prince Anoresti in his place. Made him look like a fool in front of his men. But it''s slightly hollow knowing that it was his arrogance and not my skill that was primarily the reason for that morning''s outcome. I won''t say I''m bad, but it''s a reach to imply that I should be called a swordsman of any stripe.

    And now the Prince wants me dead. He has the means to make that happen. I needed to speak to Mal''friq. ?rdelon. Someone with abilities beyond my limited martial skills.

    At just that moment, a knock came on the door. ¡°Come! I''m dressed!¡± It was the pretend Greer. I quickly put the gem to my eye and was shocked to see a different older man, one I hadn''t met yet. ?rdelon, I was assuming.

    ¡°Who gave you a gem, Mister Bascombe?¡±

    ¡°It was given to me by Count Pelisir, ?rdelon. I am to rely on it more and on my own senses less.¡±

    ¡°It''s a powerful stone, Sir. Be cautious with it. If any of the bad players here knew you had it, they would instantly become harder to detect. Mister Mal''friq already has his hands full. Paws? Are they paws or hands?¡±

    ¡°Please, if you will, ?rdelon, can you drop this glamour? Just show yourself to me as you are? I''ll draw the curtain in the window here¡­.¡±

    As I went to pull the curtain across the window, a plink sound and then the tinkling of glass caused me to reflexively drop to the floor.

    ¡°Stay down!¡± ?rdelon yelled at me from behind a chair.

    ¡°No, wait, the gem! That was a crossbow bolt. It will take a few seconds for them to reload!¡± I pulled the gem from the pommel of my rapier, placed it to my eye, and quickly stuck my head out the window. I saw the Assassin immediately and ducked back down just in time to miss another bolt as it whizzed over my head, sticking into the wooden wall across the room.

    ¡°?rdelon, have you any offensive spells readied for today?¡±

    ¡°I have several Mister Bascombe, why? Do you expect me to try my luck at the window too?¡±

    ¡°Don''t be a coward, Sir! I''ve seen her, the Assassin. She''s just across the way in that tall tree, in the limbs, about two thirds of the way up. She''s camouflaged to look like redwood bark.¡±

    ¡°Look, I''ll take the risk.¡± I tossed the gem to him. ¡°Put it up to your eye when I say so. I''m going to pop my head up to draw her fire, then when she''s reloading, look out the window through the gem and blast her back to Swalesia.¡±

    ¡°A swordsman like you can be cavalier about these things, Mister Bascombe! I''ve only killed goblinoids in my lifetime. Never a woman and never a Human. That''s a line I hadn''t thought I''d cross. Not today at least!¡±

    ¡°Just be ready please. This may be part of a larger attempt!¡±

    I crawled on hands and knees over to the broken glass on the sitting room floor. Took a few deep breaths, and popped my head up into the window, letting it sit there for slightly longer than I felt wise, and I could hear the twunk and zoooose of the crossbow being triggered, its bolt flying just over my head as it came through the window and almost hit the bolt already in the wall there.

    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

    ¡°Now! Blast her now, ?rdelon!¡± And he stood fully in the window and released six or seven bolts of bright, white light making quiet vwip, vwip, vwip sounds as they left his fingertips.

    I heard from across the way a painful grunt, then a few second¡¯s hesitation, then a thunk as the Assassin''s body hit the forest floor. There were screams and yells from the pedestrians below. Eyes scouring the trees for other enemies.

    ¡°Get down you fool!¡± I yelled at the Wizard who seemed to be guiltily admiring his handiwork. ¡°If you''re going to expose yourself, use the gem and see if it''s clear out there!¡±

    He did do that. Standing there for a solid minute, scanning the surroundings.

    ¡°It''s clear Mister Bascombe. I want to have those bolts there looked at.¡± He indicated those stuck in the wall.

    ¡°If they''re using poison, and it would be a surprise if they weren''t, we need to know what it is so we can ready an antitoxin.¡±

    ¡°Traditionally, they use toad venoms that are enough alike as to allow for a general antitoxin, but we''d be stupid to rely on tradition and supposition.¡±

    He allowed the glamour that was disguising him to go away then. Exposing the true ?rdelon. He looked like a child of course, at 500 plus years old. Probably 700, dressed in beautiful clothes of court. Definitely not a stereotypical Wizard.

    ¡°We need to go see someone about that Assassin. Will you come with me as yourself, ?rdelon?¡±

    ¡°Certainly, Sir. I was growing tired of Greer anyway.¡±

    I stuck my head out the door, ¡°Lieut ¡­.¡± quickly ducking it back in.

    ¡°There are four bodies in the corridor, ?rdelon. The guards.¡±

    ¡°Gods! That means they''re not through here.¡±

    I put my finger to my lips, urging him to be quiet. Putting my ear to the door, I listened intently. What I heard on the other side, in the corridor, unnerved me profoundly. It was just the sound of two knives being scraped together, blade to blade, sharpening them, biding their time.

    There was no way of knowing how many were out there. Aside from the metal scraping metal, there was no other sound.

    ¡°Wait, ?rdelon, I have an idea! Give me the gem please!¡± He only hesitantly handed the thing over and I gave him a wicked glare.

    Holding the thing up to my eye, I could see through the wall and into the corridor. There was one Assassin kneeling in the middle of the passage, going over a spell scroll. Getting as close as I could, I could see that the spell would turn him into a gaseous form in order to breach our door.

    He was only rubbing the blades together absent-mindedly, but it looked like he was getting ready to read off the spell.

    Very quietly, I asked ?rdelon if he had a spell that could transport me to a point just behind the Assassin. ¡°Fifteen feet that way,¡± I whispered.

    Of course he did! ¡°Before he can read that spell, put me five feet behind the devil, now!¡±

    Everything went white momentarily. When it cleared, the Assassin''s back was right before me and I ran the villain through! My rapier piercing his heart so that I could still feel it beating through the grip as he expired. I pushed him off my blade with my foot and wiped it on his tunic.

    From down the winding corridor I could hear the clump, clump, clump of double-timing feet marching and knew help was finally on the way.

    The lieutenant I had spoken with earlier was there dead on the floor with his three comrades along with the corpse of a dead Swalesian Assassin here and another on the forest floor outside. All because of me. All in an attempt to keep me from ¡­ what? Why all the effort? Surely it wasn''t simply the duel. No, that Assassin had been outside already. There was something about my mission here that wasn''t adding up, and I needed to get to the bottom of it before more lives were needlessly lost.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 13: Father Issues

    It wasn''t even yet eight bells. I was, well, I don''t know how to describe the feeling. My mind was racing thinking about that officer, if he had a family. He was a slaver. I had to keep telling myself that.

    I had put Prince Anoresti in his place. Made him look like a fool in front of his men. But it''s slightly hollow knowing that it was his arrogance and not my skill that was primarily the reason for that morning''s outcome. I won''t say I''m bad, but it''s a reach to imply that I should be called a swordsman of any stripe.

    And now the Prince wants me dead. He has the means to make that happen. I needed to speak to Mal''friq. ?rdelon. Someone with abilities beyond my limited martial skills.

    At just that moment, a knock came on the door. ¡°Come! I''m dressed!¡± It was the pretend Greer. I quickly put the gem to my eye and was shocked to see a different older man, one I hadn''t met yet. ?rdelon, I was assuming.

    ¡°Who gave you a gem, Mister Bascombe?¡±

    ¡°It was given to me by Count Pelisir, ?rdelon. I am to rely on it more and on my own senses less.¡±

    ¡°It''s a powerful stone, Sir. Be cautious with it. If any of the bad players here knew you had it, they would instantly become harder to detect. Mister Mal''friq already has his hands full. Paws? Are they paws or hands?¡±

    ¡°Please, if you will, ?rdelon, can you drop this glamour? Just show yourself to me as you are? I''ll draw the curtain in the window here¡­.¡±

    As I went to pull the curtain across the window, a plink sound and then the tinkling of glass caused me to reflexively drop to the floor.

    ¡°Stay down!¡± ?rdelon yelled at me from behind a chair.

    ¡°No, wait, the gem! That was a crossbow bolt. It will take a few seconds for them to reload!¡± I pulled the gem from the pommel of my rapier, placed it to my eye, and quickly stuck my head out the window. I saw the Assassin immediately and ducked back down just in time to miss another bolt as it whizzed over my head, sticking into the wooden wall across the room.

    ¡°?rdelon, have you any offensive spells readied for today?¡±

    ¡°I have several Mister Bascombe, why? Do you expect me to try my luck at the window too?¡±

    ¡°Don''t be a coward, Sir! I''ve seen her, the Assassin. She''s just across the way in that tall tree, in the limbs, about two thirds of the way up. She''s camouflaged to look like redwood bark.¡±

    ¡°Look, I''ll take the risk.¡± I tossed the gem to him. ¡°Put it up to your eye when I say so. I''m going to pop my head up to draw her fire, then when she''s reloading, look out the window through the gem and blast her back to Swalesia.¡±

    ¡°A swordsman like you can be cavalier about these things, Mister Bascombe! I''ve only killed goblinoids in my lifetime. Never a woman and never a Human. That''s a line I hadn''t thought I''d cross. Not today at least!¡±

    ¡°Just be ready please. This may be part of a larger attempt!¡±

    I crawled on hands and knees over to the broken glass on the sitting room floor. Took a few deep breaths, and popped my head up into the window, letting it sit there for slightly longer than I felt wise, and I could hear the twunk and zoooose of the crossbow being triggered, its bolt flying just over my head as it came through the window and almost hit the bolt already in the wall there.

    Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

    ¡°Now! Blast her now, ?rdelon!¡± And he stood fully in the window and released six or seven bolts of bright, white light making quiet vwip, vwip, vwip sounds as they left his fingertips.

    I heard from across the way a painful grunt, then a few second¡¯s hesitation, then a thunk as the Assassin''s body hit the forest floor. There were screams and yells from the pedestrians below. Eyes scouring the trees for other enemies.

    ¡°Get down you fool!¡± I yelled at the Wizard who seemed to be guiltily admiring his handiwork. ¡°If you''re going to expose yourself, use the gem and see if it''s clear out there!¡±

    He did do that. Standing there for a solid minute, scanning the surroundings.

    ¡°It''s clear Mister Bascombe. I want to have those bolts there looked at.¡± He indicated those stuck in the wall.

    ¡°If they''re using poison, and it would be a surprise if they weren''t, we need to know what it is so we can ready an antitoxin.¡±

    ¡°Traditionally, they use toad venoms that are enough alike as to allow for a general antitoxin, but we''d be stupid to rely on tradition and supposition.¡±

    He allowed the glamour that was disguising him to go away then. Exposing the true ?rdelon. He looked like a child of course, at 500 plus years old. Probably 700, dressed in beautiful clothes of court. Definitely not a stereotypical Wizard.

    ¡°We need to go see someone about that Assassin. Will you come with me as yourself, ?rdelon?¡±

    ¡°Certainly, Sir. I was growing tired of Greer anyway.¡±

    I stuck my head out the door, ¡°Lieut ¡­.¡± quickly ducking it back in.

    ¡°There are four bodies in the corridor, ?rdelon. The guards.¡±

    ¡°Gods! That means they''re not through here.¡±

    I put my finger to my lips, urging him to be quiet. Putting my ear to the door, I listened intently. What I heard on the other side, in the corridor, unnerved me profoundly. It was just the sound of two knives being scraped together, blade to blade, sharpening them, biding their time.

    There was no way of knowing how many were out there. Aside from the metal scraping metal, there was no other sound.

    ¡°Wait, ?rdelon, I have an idea! Give me the gem please!¡± He only hesitantly handed the thing over and I gave him a wicked glare.

    Holding the thing up to my eye, I could see through the wall and into the corridor. There was one Assassin kneeling in the middle of the passage, going over a spell scroll. Getting as close as I could, I could see that the spell would turn him into a gaseous form in order to breach our door.

    He was only rubbing the blades together absent-mindedly, but it looked like he was getting ready to read off the spell.

    Very quietly, I asked ?rdelon if he had a spell that could transport me to a point just behind the Assassin. ¡°Fifteen feet that way,¡± I whispered.

    Of course he did! ¡°Before he can read that spell, put me five feet behind the devil, now!¡±

    Everything went white momentarily. When it cleared, the Assassin''s back was right before me and I ran the villain through! My rapier piercing his heart so that I could still feel it beating through the grip as he expired. I pushed him off my blade with my foot and wiped it on his tunic.

    From down the winding corridor I could hear the clump, clump, clump of double-timing feet marching and knew help was finally on the way.

    The lieutenant I had spoken with earlier was there dead on the floor with his three comrades along with the corpse of a dead Swalesian Assassin here and another on the forest floor outside. All because of me. All in an attempt to keep me from ¡­ what? Why all the effort? Surely it wasn''t simply the duel. No, that Assassin had been outside already. There was something about my mission here that wasn''t adding up, and I needed to get to the bottom of it before more lives were needlessly lost.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 14: An Accounting of Allies

    ?rdelon himself escorted me to the Queen''s quarters. On arrival, she seemed excited to see me, there with King Mestil having coffee. Both were casually dressed.

    ¡°Ah, ?rdelon! Are we ?rdelon now?¡± she inquired, noting his lack of disguise.

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty. It just seemed more appropriate today.¡±

    ¡°I respect that, My Mage. I''ve heard about your activities this morning. Not even brunch yet and you''ve both earned medals!¡±

    ¡°Oh, no, Your Majesty, that''s hardly necessary.¡± I begged. I didn''t want that sort of fuss when real soldiers were dead trying to defend me. I explained my position and she agreed.

    ¡°You''re a good man, Mister Bascombe. Most would just allow the glory to be draped across their shoulders without complaint. You haven''t had the opportunity to truly speak with King Mestil here,¡± as she said this I bowed deeply.

    ¡°No, Your Majesty. We merely exchanged pleasantries at the dinner last night.¡± Turning to him again, I said ¡°Again, Your Majesty, the honor is mine.¡±

    ¡°I''m sorry you''ve been through so much this morning, Sir. I''m afraid you''re getting much more than you bargained for.¡±

    ¡°Well, yes, Your Majesty, that''s something of an understatement,¡± I allowed. Addressing the Queen, I said ¡°Ma''am, Your Majesty, I know the good King Mestil will be part of this process, and I need to discuss a matter with you relevant to how I proceed. Might we speak in private?¡±

    Queen May and King Mestil exchanged a glance and smiled. She said ¡°No, that won''t be necessary, Mister Bascombe. He''s on our side. Unfortunately, he''ll be set to gain handsomely however this goes.¡±

    I was confused. ¡°I don''t understand, Your Majesty. You seemed so sincere about the impact of the outside elements coming into the Taliswood, er um, Imsk¨ªli, apologies.¡±

    ¡°Well, Mister Bascombe, that''s partly what we''re discussing right now. Having merchants come in on a lottery system in order to control that. It won''t be popular with them, but it''s a necessary measure.¡±

    ¡°We need to bring you in on another matter of importance. Both of you. I don''t know how well you know your geography, Mister Bascombe, but the fens to the south of us are neutral country. No one has dominion there except the Hobgoblins, and they aren''t even that invested. To the south of the fens is the mountain kingdom of Dh?rkil, Dwarves and their several kings. It''s a very loose confederation. South of the mountains is Swalesia.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty, I am aware of the political boundaries in this part of the world.¡±

    ¡°Very well, Mister Bascombe. Well, the Dwarves are neutral, as I''m sure you know. They''re too concerned with their gold and stone to worry about external affairs. But one of their kings, Altar the Vain, has informed us that troops are amassing to their south. Swalesians. I don''t believe Prince Anoresti is here to bargain in good faith. I believe, as does Mestil, that they plan to invade if they don''t get their way. Maybe even if they do.¡±

    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

    King Mestil joined in, ¡°And no, it isn''t about your run in with him this morning, Mister Bascombe. They''ve been staging for at least two weeks. It''s not clear though if they mean to take us, or the Dwarves, or both.¡±

    ¡°How many troops, Your Majesty?¡±

    ¡°King Altar has told us that it looks like more than 200,000 at this point, with more coming daily. From there, and they''d have to skirt the fens, they''re a one week march at least. More likely ten days.¡±

    ¡°This is troubling news, Your Majesties. How many troops have you?¡±

    Mestil answered, ¡°50,000 Wood Elves, 50,000 Gray Elves, and 50,000 High Elves. It would be suicide to try to attack us here, in the forest, with those numbers.¡±

    ¡°And the Dwarves, Your Majesty?¡±

    ¡°They have something like 20,000 fighting ready. But we would throw in with them if they needed us.¡±

    I was busy doing mental math when I asked, ¡°What about the Gnolls, Your Majesty? Would they throw in with the Swalesians?¡±

    The Queen spoke, ¡°We''ve no way of knowing, Mister Bascombe. Historically, they''ve ¡®thrown in¡¯ with nobody. Not even other gnolls. But there''s always a first time, isn''t there?¡±

    ¡°Well, Ma''am, perhaps it''s a good time to bring my concerns to light regarding the Hard Coast Company. I''m not sure I''m here in good faith either. I think I may be a distraction from their real plan. But, that''s merely an intuition. I don''t have anything to go on yet. That''s what Mister ?rdelon and I have been discussing this morning, trying to better determine their motives if we can.¡±

    She nodded, ¡°That would be most welcome information, Sir. If there is duplicitousness in their presence here, then the whole thing should just be taken off the table. We''ll hold what''s ours. Let them attack.¡±

    Mestil spoke, ¡°Now, we don''t believe Feersland has an actual role in any of this, do we? It''s all the Hard Coast Company?¡±

    I answered, ¡°To the best of my knowledge, I believe this to be true Your Majesty. But the Hard Coast Company does have its own army, mercenaries 100,000 strong. And they have the ear of the king in Feersland, Cromar. He''s but a child and likely easily duped.¡±

    Queen May laughed and said, ¡°Oh, he''s much worse than that! He''s a teenaged Human boy! Throw a woman his way and you''ll have whatever you want!¡±

    Mestil brought gravity back to the discussion. ¡°We need to find out what the true lay of the land is. Who we can trust. What will the Gnolls do? There are too many questions at this point. For ¨¦lois¡¯ sake, we''re Elves, we shouldn''t be in this situation! No offense, Mister Bascombe, but we''ve had long enough that we should be better prepared for these eventualities.¡±

    ¡°If I may, Your Majesty,¡± I said, ¡°I feel you give your trust too freely.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Mister Bascombe, there is that, and ancient races should not be so naive. It just feels so empty to have to suspect everyone you deal with of having ulterior motives. It''s a sad state of affairs.¡±

    ¡°It''s a very Human state of affairs, Your Majesty, I''m afraid. It is definitely that. In my society, you''re a fool to trust anyone. Here I am today wondering if my own father isn''t a villain in this tale. You should be able to trust family, but with Humans you do so at your own risk.¡±

    ¡°Damned pit vipers.¡± he mused.

    ¡°There may be more honor among pit vipers, Your Majesty.¡± I put in. ¡°And if we may be excused, ?rdelon and I have much work to do this day.¡±

    ¡°Ah, very well,¡± said Queen May, ¡°but you''ll join us for supper this evening? Seven bells?¡±

    ¡°We''d be most honored, Your Majesty. Seven bells it is.¡±

    With that, we returned to my rooms to begin planning out a strategy. One that wouldn''t attract attention. When we arrived, Count Pelisir was there waiting.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 15: Tea and Symphony

    Well, the busy bees are back! Mister Bascombe, Mister ?rdelon, I''m glad to see you''re both safe!

    ¡°Quite so, My Lord, it''s been something of a morning.¡± I said wearily.

    ¡°I should say so. Can''t leave you alone for a moment, can I?¡±

    ¡°No offense intended Count, but I get in just as much trouble with you.¡± I retorted.

    ¡°You have me there, Sir. What are you two doing today?¡± He asked of no one in particular. He seemed preoccupied.

    I told him of what we had discussed with the Queen and King Mestil as well as about my concerns regarding the Hard Coast Company. That caught his attention.

    ¡°I see. And how strong are these intuitions, Mister Bascombe?¡±

    ¡°Strong enough for me to investigate my own father, My Lord. Something just doesn''t feel right.¡±

    He was thoughtful for a moment, ¡°You need to find omeone here or bring someone here who is closer to your father. ?rdelon can transport someone if you can narrow it down. Surely you have that ability, ?rdelon?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Sir, of course, My Lord. But that may not be necessary. There''s someone right under our noses who might be very helpful ¡­¡±

    It dawned on me immediately, ¡°Margrin Ephisiery¨®n! Of course! By the gods, he may be here working for my father as we speak.¡±

    Count Pelisir considered this, ¡°But this is a delicate matter, Mister Bascombe. If he is working for your father, then he doesn''t need to know what we know or even suspect.¡±

    ¡°Just last night, the man said he wanted to speak with me, but I avoided him. I was too drunk to talk, truth be told.¡±

    ?rdelon couldn''t contain himself, ¡°Far be it for me to ever suggest there might be a problem there!¡±

    I realized somewhat belatedly, that this was the Greer I had met on my first nights here. How confusing. ¡°Perhaps there''s something to what you say, Mister ?rdelon. My apologies for being so blind to my own faults.¡±

    ¡°Think nothing of it, Mister Bascombe. Just realize that you are to us and yourself so much better when your head is clear. Many lives are at stake.¡±

    ¡°Apologies to both of you, Gentlemen. You''ll both help me stay temperant while it''s needed?¡±

    The Count patted my shoulder reassuringly and said ¡°Have no doubts, Mister Bascombe. You have friends in this room, in this kingdom. We''ll not let you down.¡±

    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

    ¡°Very well then,¡± I said, ¡°I need to connive a way to cross paths with Margrin Ephisiery¨®n without it seeming planned.¡±

    ?rdelon said, ¡°He has tea in the conservatory every day from noon to two bells. Just listens to the music. Very intently I might add. He appears to be quite the music enthusiast.¡±

    ¡°Noted,¡± I said, ¡°But I''m not, so I won''t try to engage him that way. What''s his tea?¡±

    ¡°Oh, that''s easy,¡± said the Count, ¡°it''s the Green Dragon Dung tea from the East. It''s outrageously expensive, but it''s all he drinks.¡±

    ¡°Right, growing up in a Hard Coast Company household, one thing I do know is my teas. The manure from a Green Dragon supposedly holds excess poison that they produce which has a pronounced stimulant effect. I''ve had it before and I didn''t sleep for two days.¡±

    ¡°Elves don''t sleep anyway, do they Mister Bascombe?¡± The Count had me there.

    ¡°No, My Lord. I forgot about that. Well, I need to stay sharp so none of that. I''ll come up with something as impressive. He should be in the conservatory now. You''ll excuse me, Gentlemen l, while I freshen up and take a tea with the Elf.¡±

    I knew eyes were upon me everywhere I went, but I felt blissfully alone walking around corridors until I could hear the sonorous call of a cello in its lower register. That''s what I was looking for. It wasn''t yet one bell so he should be here.

    I noticed Margrin Ephisiery¨®n immediately as I stepped into the room but pretended not to see him. Trust me, dear reader, it was not an enviable task. He was seated perhaps ten feet from the cellist, his arms and hands flailing about with the music as if he was conducting an orchestra.

    No one else was in the room save for a young valet and two thuggish looking Humans who were obviously with the one I was looking for. Perhaps I shouldn''t be so quick to judge; maybe they were music lovers as well.

    Margrin Ephisiery¨®n caught my eye and beckoned me over just as the two monstrous creatures had risen and were headed my way. He waved them off to remain seated and they immediately obeyed. So much for questioning my judgment.

    The Elf indicated that I was to take a chair opposite him at the table. ¡°Mister Bascombe! Finally! Will you join me for some tea?¡±

    ¡°Hah! Not what you''re having, Mister Ephisiery¨®n! I like my sleep too much!¡± He chuckled along with me at that.

    ¡°Please, call me Margrin, my last name rolls hard off of Human tongues. Your first name is strange too, so I''ll call you Bascombe and a smooth, easy to pronounce friendship we''ll have!¡±

    I''ll give the bastard this, he was charismatic beyond any definition of the word with which I''m familiar. It was like some form of innate magic, something he was born with. I took my seat and he asked me what I would have.

    ¡°I believe I''ll try their Purcha Berry; I prefer a good black tea. No cream or sugar, please.¡±

    He looked as if he might have underestimated me and was just catching himself. ¡°Aha! Kudos sir on an excellent selection. Comes from the family business, does it?¡±

    ¡°If I''m versed in anything it''s my tea, Margrin. And exchange rates.¡±

    ¡°Yes, quite so, Bascombe! Do you remember meeting me all those years ago? How long has it been, twenty years?¡±

    He cut right to the chase. Good. ¡°I was very young, Sir. I have no context for the meeting. But, yes, I remember your face. We didn''t have Elves about with any regularity.¡±

    ¡°You know, I''m the one who recommended your fencing master to your father. He was mine as well for a time.¡±

    ¡°Then I''m indebted, Margrin. His teachings came in very useful this morning on more than one occasion.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Bascombe, I heard. Very impressive indeed. It''s been quite some time since Prince Anoresti lost a match and the man who beat him last died that night.¡±

    I''m sure I gulped visibly.

    ¡°Ah, but you have round the clock guards, Sir. No worries.¡±

    ¡°I''m short four guards this morning already, Margrin, thanks to the Prince''s Assassins.¡±

    ¡°Yes, well, I''m terribly sorry about that Bascombe. Despite my reputation, I do try to make sure innocents aren''t harmed. I''m guessing you know my reputation at any rate?¡±

    ¡°Quite so, Sir. Quite so. I was nervous about meeting you. And you''re so charismatic, it''s hard to tell where I stand. You''ve a true talent.¡±

    ¡°Well, Sir, my reputation should mean nothing where you and I are concerned. Right now, as we speak, I am an Elf. There are those who think I would do anything for wealth and power. Generally they''d be right. When it comes to selling out my people, they''re very wrong.¡±

    He stared at me with cold, hard eyes. ¡°This isn''t the place for this conversation, Sir. We''ve much to discuss and I trust no one.¡±

    ¡°Very well,¡± I said, ¡°Where should we go?¡±

    ¡°Oh, not quite yet, Good Sir. You haven''t had your tea yet and I''m not through enjoying my music! We''ll go back to your rooms at two bells if you be amenable.¡±

    ¡°An excellent suggestion, Margrin. I was looking forward to a good cup and the music is simply transcendent.¡±

    He closed his eyes and went back to his conducting duties. I wondered how the cellist had gotten along without them. I looked over to her and got a quick eye roll. That was either very brave or very stupid. Either way I laughed. She must not know who this crazy man was.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 16: Trouble to the South

    When we got back to my rooms, aside from the guard of four, we were alone. To my surprise, Margrin pulled a Gem of Pure Sight from his jacket pocket and began scanning the room. I also noticed for the first time his ring. Not as large as my father''s and on his left pinky, but there was the ship with HCC stamped beneath it. I guess connections to organized crime will take you many places.

    ¡°Yes, Bascombe, you''re seeing all my cards on the table. I obviously can''t have anyone digging in my head. By ¨¦lois, the number of people they could lock up without a fight. It would take down the Syndicate!¡±

    He put the gem back in his pocket, ¡°You''re clear here.¡±

    He went over to the sitting room window, the broken pane already replaced, holes in the wall patched, ¡°Over there, there''s a Swalesian, but he''s not armed with any ranged weapons. He''d be a magnificent specimen if he could throw a dagger that far. Most likely just a spy. Nonetheless, I''ll draw the curtain. Maybe he hasn''t noted me being here yet.¡±

    He sat in the chair opposite me and looked impossibly relaxed given the situation. I tried to match the attitude, but I''m certain I was unsuccessful. I have a hard enough time looking relaxed when I''m sleeping.

    ¡°First, Bascombe, let me assure you that I know all of the things that you know. That will save us some time. I also know much you don''t. That''s why we''re here, to get you up to speed.¡±

    I stopped him. ¡°I don''t know if I can trust you with that mental barrier you wear, Margrin. I do understand the reasoning for it. But it could also be used to dupe me here and I''d be none the wiser.¡±

    ¡°I think I can remedy that, Bascombe. Give me a moment.¡±

    He went to the door and asked one of the guards to send for a priest of ¨¦lois. Saying it didn''t need to be someone of very high rank. ¡°This will solve that, Bascombe. In the meantime, let''s have some more tea. Will you have a valet bring some around?¡±

    I ordered the Green Dragon Dung tea for him and the Purcha Berry for myself along with some biscuits and we sat for a moment sussing each other up.

    The tea and the priest both came at the same time. I motioned for the priest to wait a moment while the tea was poured and the valet left.

    ¡°Okay, Margrin, what''s the trick?¡±

    He spoke to the priest, ¡°Sir, you know some spells, I''m sure. Don''t you have access to one that would make me tell the truth?¡±

    ¡°Of course, Sir,¡± the priest responded, ¡°For a donation of 10 royals to the Church of ¨¦lois, I''d be happy to cast it on either of you.¡±

    ¡°A bargain at twice the price! I''ll give you 20 to cast it on both of us.¡± Margrin was going for his purse.

    ¡°It doesn''t work like that, Sir. It covers an area. As long as you both are in the area, you''re compelled to tell the truth. But the 20 royals are most welcome!¡±

    Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.

    ¡°What say you, Bascombe? No lies from either of us?¡±

    I wasn''t sure what I was getting myself into. I''d heard of this spell being used in court from time to time, but it was controversial. It could be resisted, but one could supposedly tell if a party was resisting. I didn''t see the harm in it. It was certainly worth 20 royals of someone else''s money.

    The young priest stood in the center of the room, made some motions with his hands, spoke some Elvish and then said it was done.

    How to test it? Margrin made that decision quickly, ¡°Did it feel good beating the Prince in that duel today, Bascombe?¡±

    He figured that I''m far too modest to make a big deal out of something like that, but I responded, ¡°Yes, it certainly did! The bastard had that and much more coming!¡± It was out of my mouth before I even knew it. Impressive.

    The priest said, ¡°It lasts for ten minutes, My Good Sirs. If you need more time, simply call me back. I''m Father Vastila.¡± And he left. So it was just Margrin and me and honesty for ten minutes. Best make the most of it.

    ¡°I''m not going to ask any questions yet, Margrin. You obviously have much to tell me before I even know what to ask.¡±

    ¡°You''re right, Bascombe. Stop me if you need clarification on any of it though. So many moving parts!¡±

    ¡°First, let''s start with your father. You know he still loves the law. That''s my connection to him. I''ve retained that firm for over thirty years now in case I get in trouble in Wikehold, or anywhere else along the Hard Case for that matter.¡±

    He grew grim. ¡°I don''t work for him, he works for me. Understood? His capacity with the Hard Coast Company doesn''t come into play in our arrangement. That being said, I don''t know how much he does or doesn''t know about the included amber. I think it''s his understanding that it''s to be sold at a discounted rate to make varnish and cheap jewelry.¡±

    ¡°Charles Maignard, on the other hand, I do work for, and others on the board of the Hard Coast Company. Maignard plays a very dangerous game. He merely wants to become the sole broker of the ¨¦licks, and he knows the value of the included stuff.¡±

    ¡°The man wishes to be the one Mag''stula and the Swalesians come to pay top gold for it. He''s sent you as his negotiator in this because of your naivety as you''ve suspected. That move on his part has already had an effect on May and Pelisir, thinking the Hard Coast Company is some benevolent player here.¡±

    ¡°What May and Pelisir are just finding out, is that the Gnolls and the Swalesians are planning to take the whole thing by force, ostensibly sharing the included amber and each party staying within a well-demarcated sphere of influence after it''s done. The Gnolls controlling the North of the Taliswood and Feersland and the Swalesians in the South of the Taliswood and controlling the High Elven city of Nez Clar?.¡±

    ¡°Charles Maignard feels secure behind his army of mercenaries, but they can be bought out from under him with ease by the Swalesians. Then there''s an attack force sitting inside Feersland already. The king there would capitulate. He''d have to.¡±

    I interrupted. ¡°Before you get too far, Sir, tell me, are your people worth more to you than gold and power? I need you to convince me that you''re one to trust.¡±

    ¡°Bascombe, first you must understand that the ¡®Syndicate,¡¯ of which I''m a member in very high standing to be certain, doesn''t deal with slavery, trafficking, dangerous drugs, there is a lot of gambling, there''s prostitution for sure, but we aren''t out there shaking down shop owners or buying out politicians. We''re not so nefarious. And that''s the prime driver of my poor reputation. I am no monster, Bascombe.¡±

    ¡°But, to your point, in this thing we''re discussing here, the amber concession and all that entails, I am on the side of the Elves. These other players in this gambit have no compunction with wiping out my whole species. There''s too much power in these woods for their tastes. Just to be abundantly clear, I would kill the Khan, the Prince, Mag''stula, Charles Maignard, all of them before I harmed a hair on the head of Queen May. These are my people, Sir. That means something to me. Now''s the time to get it out of me, there won''t be any lies for another five minutes. If then.¡±

    ¡°Hah! Very well, Margrin, tell me, you are completely enamoured with Queen May are you not?¡±

    ¡°Bastard! Unfair Bascombe! Well, there''s nothing for it. Yes, I''m quite in love with her. Have been for over 200 years. She needn''t know this, Bascombe.¡±

    ¡°No, Margrin. That won''t be necessary. Mestil seems to be quite taken with her as well!¡±

    ¡°A pox on that swine! He has a fianc¨¦e back in Iln¨ªst! He would break May¡¯s heart!¡±

    I didn''t realize the can of worms I would open here. He had it very bad for the Queen.

    ¡°Answer me this, Margrin, why are you coming to me before going to them?¡±

    ¡°They trust you, Bascombe. They don''t trust me. They despise me. If you back me up, we can get through to them.¡±

    ¡°Okay, Sir,¡± I said, "you have my trust. Is there any chance the Elves come out victorious in this thing?¡±

    ¡°There''s every chance. We haven''t made it 9,000 years without the ability to handle these things. This one just happens to be a bit more extreme than the usual existential threat. We have resources no one has taken into consideration, trust me, Sir.¡±

 Volume 1, Chapter 17: Maps and Maps and Maps

    <figure></figure>

    Margrin and I went to the Queen''s chambers, picking up a valet along the way to announce us.

    ¡°Your Majesties,¡± the boy called out, ¡°Misters Bascombe and Ephisiery¨®n requesting your audience.¡±

    Queen May''s voice spoke, ¡°Yes, Telest, show them in.¡±

    It was still the Queen and Mestil with the addition of Count Pelisir. They were standing around the table looking at a map that hung and curled up over the edges. It was a rather detailed rendering of what I knew to be our continent.

    The Queen said, ¡°Mister Bascombe, it''s good to see you. Mister Ephisiery¨®n.¡± Her contempt for her fellow Elf was palpable.

    ¡°Gentlemen, King Mal''friq will be along shortly. We''ve been getting considerable updates over the past few hours. Mister Ephisiery¨®n, I''m not sure you should be here for our discussion.¡±

    ¡°Oh, no, Your Majesty, you''ll want to hear what he has to say, I assure you.¡±

    I explained to them all we had discussed, the truth spell, and the knowledge Margrin possessed regarding all of it.

    Speaking directly to the Queen, Margrin said, ¡°That is why I went to Mister Bascombe first, Your Majesty. To have an advocate you could trust so we didn''t spend too much time testing my veracity. My first allegiance is to my species. Of that, you may be assured. And we are in the midst of a crisis the likes of which our people haven''t seen, perhaps ever.¡±

    King Mestil spoke, ¡°So, you''re saying, Sir, that you believe the Gnolls will move on us?¡±

    ¡°Are moving, Your Majesty. They have taken the circuitous route through the North country to attack from that direction while the Swalesians come to our front door from the South. And, if it''s as I predict, the Swalesians will take the mercenaries of the Hard Coast Company and attack with them from the West.¡±

    ¡°What''s the estimate for their arrival?¡± asked Queen May.

    Margrin replied, ¡°Ten days would be a sound estimate, Your Majesty. We''re talking about moving nearly half a million troops. There''s a lot involved in a plan that large. Then they''ll wait until they get to the forest to start building siege machines. I would say that they should be ready to attack in twelve to fourteen days.¡±

    It was my turn to speak, ¡°The other day it was said that we have something like 150,000 troops at our disposal, correct?¡±

    ¡°Something like that,¡± said King Mestil. But we''ve time to try to do better. Someone get that Wizard in here, ?rdelon.¡±

    A valet ran from the room to grab the Wizard. I was considering a proposition but was assuming it had already been mentioned. ¡°Your Majesties, I know a fortnight isn''t much time, but have you considered allowing ?rdelon and his Wizards a chance to work with the inclusions in the amber? Surely they''re of a caliber to match the Swalesians and Mag''stula?¡±

    ¡°And while we still have it we''d be fools not to use it! You''re right, Mister Bascombe.¡± said King Mestil. ¡°Where is that Wizard?¡±

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    The valet came back promptly with ?rdelon who had obviously been awakened from a much needed nap. ¡°Yes, Your Majesties,¡± he croaked.

    ¡°By the gods, ?rdelon! Valet, bring him a washbasin so that he might make himself magically presentable if nothing better!¡± The valet rushed off.

    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± ?rdelon addressed the Queen, ¡°Many apologies! It''s been a rough morning.¡±

    ¡°I know it has been, ?rdelon,¡± she said consolingly, ¡°I''m sorry I snapped. It''s been a very tense morning for all of us.¡±

    ?rdelon was quickly brought up to speed just as Mal''friq returned. Pleasantries were made and coffee, tea, and luncheon items ordered.

    Count Pelisir was the next to speak. ¡°For those of you not so familiar,¡± assuming he meant me, ¡°there are thirteen subspecies of elf. We don''t have many family reunions or get-togethers, but they''re out there. Over the course of the next two weeks, it will be the job of the Wizards to get our envoys where they need to be to make contact with our kin and see what support we can drum up. The first and most important two are the Sand Elves and the Sun Elves. Both are in excellent position to harass and skirmish with the advancing Gnolls. It wouldn''t hurt to have the Aardgnolls involved there as well. Worst case scenario is that the Brown and Striped Gnolls stay neutral, but they may join with you King Mal''friq.¡±

    ¡°Please, understand, I mean no offense, but I''m not sure it''s in my best interest to go after Mag''stula,¡± said Mal''friq. ¡°Not at this juncture at any rate. I feel it would be better if we helped with the Swalesians for now. I''m not trying to incite a civil war. Mag''stula is certainly a pestilence, but she''s a mortal pestilence. She won''t be around forever.¡±

    ¡°Honestly, Mal''friq,¡± Queen May spoke to the Aardgnoll, ¡°you don''t know that. If she gets her hands on that included amber, she may yet become a powerful lich or other immortal.¡±

    Mal''friq was suddenly thoughtful though silent.

    ¡°Okay, that''s Sand and Sun Elves from behind and the Gnolls will be skirting the Cloud Elf and Snow Elf domains as they pass the Northern Mountains. The High Elves will be facing the mercenary army out of the West, hopefully with the assistance of the Moon Elves whose caravans ply those territories. There are several outlets from the Underworld around the continent. For now, let''s say the Deep Elves put in with the High and Moon Elves. As it stands, that''s our weakest front, but Nez Clar? is a well-defended city.¡±

    ¡°The Sea Elves can harass shipping and conduct enough coastal raids to cause grief for the Swalesians. The Fire Elves are in the volcanoes to the East of Swalesia and they can be problematic. The Wild Elves are too far away in the jungles to the South to be of any help, unfortunately. They''re fierce warriors. And lastly there are the Barrow Elves who will contribute to the defenses of those nearest to them.¡±

    ¡°I don''t think it''s much of a stretch to think the King in Feersland will come in behind the mercenaries and on our side once he has the opportunity to regain power.¡±

    ¡°Now in the meantime, it''s beholden on us to make sure our defenses are shored up. Trebuchets, catapults, ballistae, arrows, bowstrings, everything we''ll need. Bring in wheat and water for a siege. Get ranges set for bow and trebuchet. Two weeks is not a lot of time, but it can be adequate if used properly.¡±

    Queen May spoke, ¡°?rdelon, I know I told you not to do any work with the included amber. Now you''re not in trouble if you have been, okay? In fact, I''m about to encourage you to go head on with the stuff and see if you can concoct any of those good old turn the tide of battle spells with it, understood?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty, I''ve actually been doing a lot of work with it. We can extract and distill the super Mana cleanly now, and I''m actually set to try my first spell made using the stuff whenever you want a demonstration.¡±

    ¡°Why you disobedient liar! You''re lucky you''re needed right now! By ¨¦lois, you have fortune on your side, Wizard!¡±

    The Elf looked as if he was about to run away screaming, beet red and trembling. He looked horribly frail.

    ¡°Well, Wizard, what''s the spell do? Save your ass from punishment?¡± The Queen was visibly perturbed.

    The Wizard fought to find his voice and squeaked, ¡°No, Your Majesty, it controls the weather over a whole region for a day. No more droughts, forest fires, it can all be set daily over an area the size of Imsk¨ªli. I thought it might be handy to make the enemy''s stay as miserable as possible and prevent them from being able to burn us out.¡±

    The Queen was silent for a moment. ¡°That''s really very excellent work, ?rdelon. Thank you.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty!¡± He looked terribly relieved.

    ¡°By the way,¡± the Queen said, ¡°Prince Anoresti and his entourage left about an hour ago. Unfortunately, they forgot some of their Assassins, but we''ll tidy that up.¡±

    Looking directly at me, the Queen asked, ¡°Will you stay with us and fight, Mister Bascombe?¡±

    ¡°Of course, Your Majesty.¡± I was almost offended that she felt the need to ask.

    She got very serious. ¡°Very well, this afternoon, I''ll take you to my personal armorer and weaponsmith to make sure you''re as well-equipped as you can be.¡±

    ¡°You''ve an armorer, Your Majesty?¡±

    ¡°Yes, quite, Mister Bascombe. I''m actually one of the most powerful warriors in the land if you didn''t know. We can do some sparring later and I''ll show you.¡±

    ¡°I would most sincerely enjoy that, Your Majesty. Thank you.¡± Surprise after surprise.

    She continued, ¡°And sincerest thanks to you Mister Ephisiery¨®n. I didn''t expect your patriotism. You''ve been most helpful.¡±

    Giving a full bow, he said ¡°The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty.¡±

    One more dismissive note to me, ¡°I''ll send someone around for you before supper to get you fitted for that armor, Mister Bascombe.¡±

    I bowed and Margrin and I went our separate ways. Me to sleep and him probably for more tea.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 18: The Making of a Soldier

    Around five bells, the Queen came by my rooms, waiting in the corridor until I could wash my face and put on something suitable for going armor shopping with a monarch.

    I didn''t know whether or not it was appropriate to invite her in once I was ready but I did anyway.

    ¡°Yes, of course, Mister Bascombe, valet, um Waldinor, correct?¡±

    The young valets were always pleased as punch when the nobles knew their names, much less a Queen. ¡°Yes, Your Majesty, just so!¡± he blushed.

    ¡°Go fetch a pot of Purcha Berry and service for Mister Bascombe and me. Sweet cream and honey, if you please, Waldinor.¡±

    As the valet turned to leave, the Queen added ¡°And shut the door behind yourself, and tell every single person you see along the way that there is no jig-jaggery going on in here!¡±

    Waldinor and I both blushed like idiots. I had to laugh.

    ¡°Oh, you don''t know what it''s like being a Virgin Queen, Mister Bascombe ¡­¡±

    ¡°I should say not, Your Majesty!¡± I interrupted.

    She had a laugh at that and we both giggled like children.

    ¡°Please, Sir, allow me to ask a personal question. If it''s too intrusive, tell me so. I won''t pursue it any further.¡±

    ¡°Of course, My Queen, what is it? I''m single.¡±

    ¡°Don''t be fresh, Mister Bascombe. I won''t have it.¡± She said grievously and the moment of levity was over.

    ¡°Seriously, Sir. This whole episode seems to be affecting you greatly. You seem to have lost some of the joy you came here with. Is it your father? I know you have your suspicions about his involvement in all this.¡±

    I had to think on it a moment. ¡°Perhaps, Your Majesty, perhaps. There is just so much going on right now, I haven''t thought on it in all honesty. My mind most recently has been on the young lieutenant who died trying to protect me and the wife he left behind. I don''t even know his name, I''m ashamed to say.¡±

    ¡°It was Lieutenant Hevisty¨®n, Sir. Alvil Hevisty¨®n. Thank you for recognizing his sacrifice so. His wife, Clarest, is part of my court now, so she''ll be well-taken care of. Perhaps she''ll find a new husband soon.¡±

    ¡°Just like that, Your Majesty? No period of mourning?¡±

    ¡°Well, certainly, Mister Bascombe, she''ll mourn for the rest of her life! Have you stopped to consider the ages we''re talking about here? He was 102, she is 95. She has another 800 or 900 years to live. You don''t know your ancestors from 200 years ago! That''s an awfully long time to be in sackcloth and ashes, don''t you suppose, Mister Bascombe? It''s really all about context. The traditional period of mourning is ten years. Does that seem sufficient to your morally superior Human ideals?¡±

    I had been dressed down pretty severely and she was right on every count as usual. ¡°Your Majesty, please forgive me. I do forget the age issue. Even talking to you, it feels like I''m speaking with someone of a like age, not however old you are.¡±

    ¡°Your flattery is appreciated, Mister Bascombe. Now, here''s an idea for you. I could send you to see your father if you thought that would be helpful. I think having some questions answered would be most beneficial.¡±

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    ¡°I feel my place is here, Your Majesty. By the time I get home and back, the war might well be over.¡±

    ¡°Don''t be silly, Sir! I''m talking about having ?rdelon teleport you there and back this evening. Would you be amenable?¡±

    ¡°Oh!¡± I chuckled, ¡°I''m an idiot! Of course, My Queen, that would be most satisfactory! Excuse my mental lapses!¡±

    ¡°It''s quite alright, Mister Bascombe. It''s part of your charm. What little of that there is.¡± she said under her breath. That startled me.

    ¡°Oh, I''m jesting, Sir. You''re plenty charming if you''re nothing else.¡± And we both had a fine laugh at that as our tea service arrived.

    ¡°We will need to track your father down somehow, Mister Bascombe. You know he''s like a wraith to us with his magical protections.¡±

    ¡°How will you do it, Your Majesty?¡±

    ¡°We will have to scan the minds of all in the neighborhoods he''s typically found and see if anyone has seen him recently. It''s a major fault in that magic. We won''t know they''ve seen him precisely, but there will be a gap in their thoughts and that gap will likely be him. We can use common sense from there. It helps to have a very large number of spies out there as well.¡±

    ¡°If he''s not at home, Your Majesty, he would be at our chalet in the Northern Peaks. He detests the city in the summer.¡±

    Just then, ?rdelon stuck his head in the door. ¡°Your Majesty, we''ve found the elder Bascombe. He''s at a chalet in the Northern Peaks with his mistress.¡±

    I guess it shouldn''t have been, but that was a shock. A mistress, the old scoundrel.

    The Queen looked at me consolingly, ¡°Do you still want to go, Mister Bascombe?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty, that will actually be preferred. I''ll have some leverage against him. He owes his current seat on the board of the Hard Coast Company to my mother''s side of the family. I''ll have him by his soft bits! The idiot!¡±

    <hr>

    ¡°Very well, Sir, let''s finish our teas and go take care of your armor fitting. You''ve a busy night ahead.¡±

    <hr>

    The armorer''s shop was the first building I''d been to on the forest floor. I guess it being there was for obvious reasons. It wasn''t busy. The Elf inside looked to be close to Greer''s age, or at least what I thought Greer''s age looked like never having actually met the Elf.

    He was balding, his hair white, his ears starting to flop down a little, wearing a leather apron, leather gauntlets, and beating on a piece of orange-hot metal with a blacksmith''s hammer.

    He didn''t see us come in. ¡°Joakin!¡± the Queen called to him, but his hearing was failing as well it seemed. As he continued to hammer, she stepped over and waved her hand in front of his eyes.

    Startled, he said ¡°Your Majesty,¡± bowing as deeply as his ancient back would allow, ¡°Are you here for the sword? It''s not quite ready!¡±

    ¡°No, Joakin. Just let me know when it is. I''m here today for Mister Bascombe,¡± she said, indicating me.

    ¡°You likely haven''t been told Joakin, but war is coming.¡±

    ¡°I have heard, Your Majesty. Would that I were a hundred years younger, I''d be on the wall. Might still be. I can fire a ballista.¡±

    ¡°I''m sure your services will be needed on the forge, Joakin. Mister Bascombe, however, will be with me, and he needs to be properly armored.¡±

    ¡°What''s your fighting style, Mister Human?¡±

    She smiled but corrected him, ¡°It''s Mister Bascombe, Joakin, don''t be rude. He''s a fencer, rapiers. I was thinking scale mail with plate cuisses?¡±

    I was a little concerned. ¡°That sounds terribly heavy and constricting, Your Majesty, if I may say so.¡±

    ¡°Of course you may, Mister Bascombe, but you''ve never worn mithril armor, obviously. There will be no expense spared in the creation of your suit.¡±

    Ah, mithril, the legendary metal of the Elves, reputedly light as cloth. That would be interesting.

    ¡°Will you be wanting a helmet, Mister Buscoom?¡±

    Queen May spoke sharply, ¡°Joakin, mind your tongue, you knave!¡±

    I thought it was funny. Whether a dislike of Humans and, or, of me personally, I couldn''t tell, but the old man had spirit. ¡°No, Mister Joakin, I won''t require a helmet.¡±

    ¡°You''ve never tasted combat,¡± he sighed. ¡°I''ll make one for you that won''t be very noticeable yet may still save your dome .¡±

    Looking at my rapier, he asked ¡°Set for weapons are we?¡±

    The Queen spoke for me. ¡°He''ll be needing a back-up rapier and a good light crossbow with a bolt case and bolts. Anything magical would be preferred.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty. So we have a padded cloth doublet with a scale mail tunic and plate mail cuisses for the thighs, a small helmet, magical rapier, and crossbow?¡±

    ¡°Just so, Joakin. If you can have those ready when my sword is finished, I would be most grateful.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty,¡± he said, bowing again deeply.

    Back to the platform and up to the Palace, the Queen suggested ¡°I''ll send a good but plain crossbow around to your rooms this evening, Mister Bascombe, We''ve an indoor range not far from there. Just a level up.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty, I''ve noted it in passing. I''m a fair bowman, if it matters. My father insisted on it, said arbalests were for commoners.¡±

    ¡°Did you get all the charm in your family, Sir? Your father sounds as if he is lacking.¡± We both laughed.

    ¡°Mister Bascombe, if we get to close quarters, you''ll be thankful for how you''ll be equipped. During the Siege of the Black Banner, I claimed twenty-five kills with my crossbow alone,¡± she got quiet, ¡°and lost a stubborn friend who thought like your father. Every time you fire from the parapet with a longbow, you expose yourself much too much. Much too much,¡± she repeated with a sigh.

    In the distance was the sound of six bells.

    ¡°Ah, here we are at your rooms, Mister Bascombe. I''ll send ?rdelon around to teleport you to your father''s chalet, then I will see you on the morrow You may kiss my hand,¡± she said, presenting it to me.

    ¡°My Queen!¡± I said startled, ¡°I''m honored!¡±

    I took her fragile looking hand, kissing it gently, and looked up into her eyes. To call it a blush on her cheeks would be to call the red on an apple a hint of color. The crimson that bloomed there was beautiful and vivid.

    ¡°Mister Bascombe,¡± was all she said as she turned to go back to her chambers.

    My head was absolutely swimming with thoughts both joyful and confused as I awaited the arrival of ?rdelon and my trip to the Coast.

    I was a wreck! I did not know what I should or shouldn''t read into that interaction with the Queen, and I needed to get my head on straight before I talked with my father.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 19: Half-Elf, All Witch

    At precisely seven bells, ?rdelon arrived and immediately questioned my state. ¡°Mister Bascombe! What in the name of ¨¦lois has happened to you, my friend? You look like you''ve been visited by the Spirits of Death and Love simultaneously!¡±¡°

    Good evening, ?rdelon. I''ll be fine. I truly wish I could speak to you on the matter, but I must keep my tongue tied, forever. I must regain my focus for now. Your concern is greatly appreciated!¡± I shook his hand firmly.

    ¡°Very well, Bascombe. Have a seat then; there''s much to go over with you before I send you off.¡±

    He drew the curtains in the sitting room as a valet came in with a coffee service for two with cheese and bread. It was only then that I realized I had not had much to eat that day. As I sat, he stood.

    Twirling my spoon in my coffee, ?rdelon seemed hesitant. ¡°There are things I don''t like about this adventure in which I''m sending you, Bascombe. The protective aura around your father has grown stronger. It may just be that the Hard Coast Company expects a greater risk of subterfuge and spying amid all of this to do with the amber. Or perhaps your father is trying to hide things from other, more dangerous parties. The Hard Coast Company in particular. Perhaps he''s selling secrets. Maybe he''s skimming. I can''t tell much other than the power of the shroud he''s drawn about himself is stronger than the one about Charles Maignard himself.¡±

    ¡°Well, I''m certain,¡± I said, ¡°Mister ?rdelon, I intend to find out. I''ll be armed. I''ve feared, as you know, the presence of the Swalesians and their reputation for violence and clandestine affairs. My father does have his own guards, though.¡±

    He smirked, ¡°Likely Swalesian mercenaries.¡± Finally, he sat across from me and began to pull some things from a battered, black satchel, placing them individually on the coffee table.

    There was a scroll, a ring, a necklace, and some sort of leather lace-up something.

    ¡°What''s all this then, Mister ?rdelon? You have me intrigued!¡±

    ¡°For my peace of mind and your safety, Mister Bascombe.¡±

    He spread the items out.

    ¡°The scroll,¡± he said, pointing to it, ¡°is a one-use Teleportation spell. That''s if you find yourself in a quandary and need to get back quickly. Well, I say quickly, it will take two to three minutes to read the scroll, so remember you need to be in a place of reasonable safety with the time to do it. It must be read and the instructions followed precisely.¡±

    Pointing then to the ring and necklace, ¡°These should be somewhat familiar to you.¡±

    The ring was silver, or perhaps platinum, with a large amethyst in it cut in the shape of a seven-pointed star. The silver necklace had a talisman on it with the same shaped and colored stone.

    ¡°These serve the same function as do those sets you''ve seen worn by your father and his Hard Coast Company colleagues. They shield your mind from intrusion, working together synergistically creating an aura that should be impervious to prying.¡±

    Picking up the piece of leather he asked me to present my right wrist. Wrapping the thing around and tying it, I saw it was a bracer of the type worn by archers. As he laced it on, I began to feel a tingling that ran down my spine and made my feet and hands feel suddenly warm. Once he''d finished I turned my wrist over to give it a look. It was black leather about the thickness of leather armor but of very high quality, very supple. On it was engraved the image of a house cat, curled and sleeping.

    ¡°Do you fancy me a cat fancier, Mister ?rdelon?¡± I laughed.

    ¡°Well, I should hope so, Mister Bascombe! I never trust a person who doesn''t like cats!¡± he replied, and we both had a laugh.

    ¡°I cannot tell you, Mister ?rdelon, how many times I''ve been threatened with civil suit over the number of strays I feed back home. But I''ve never been one for cat apparel.¡±

    ¡°When I put the thing on your wrist, Mister Bascombe, you felt the charge it gives off. This is a Bracer of Cat''s Grace, and a little more powerful version of the type at that. It will make you quicker, more fluid in your movements. Take out your rapier and have a go.¡±

    And I did. I unsheathed my blade and everything about it and I seemed to be moving with a speed and nimbleness I hadn''t felt in ¡­ well, ever. ¡°Good gods, man! What magic is this?¡± I shouted.

    ¡°It''s uncommon magic, Mister Bascombe, personally handcrafted. That''s my own cat you see stamped into the leather there, Queen May!¡±

    ¡°You''ve named your cat after the Queen?¡± That brought a whole host of thoughts rushing back into my head.

    He laughed, ¡°I know it''s not fitting. Our Queen May is much less demanding!¡±

    ¡°What a truly remarkable thing. Thank you, Mister ?rdelon! I appreciate that you''re erring on the side of caution and pray it won''t be necessary.¡±

    ¡°We would be fools not to take extra measures, Mister Bascombe. There is much afoot in these times that call for them. Swalesian Assassins being but one of the many hazards. And for you! Not even being able to trust your own father. You have my sympathy, Sir. Ah, I forgot something!¡±

    Speaking quickly to one of the valets, he sent the boy running headlong down the corridor.

    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

    ¡°He''ll be right back with another gift before you go, Mister Bascombe.¡±

    ¡°I''m sure I''ve quite enough, Mister ?rdelon! I shan''t be gone long!¡±

    ¡°That''s another thing we haven''t discussed, Mister Bascombe. You''ll be leaving at just past seven bells. I''m giving you one hour with your father then I''m coming for you if you haven''t used the scroll by then. I don''t like the energy we''re seeing from that chalet ¡ª why all the extra caution on their part of a sudden? Something''s coming, Mister Bascombe, and your father has some answers.¡±

    ¡°He''d best have answers for my mother if she catches him!¡± I laughed, though the thought of his philandering did sadden me to a degree.

    We had never been a close family, their marriage one of politics and money. But there was a time in my life when it all felt very normal and loving, typical. Before the covers were thrown back on that charade, I had a happy childhood. A child should be allowed a childhood like that. For a time at least. Before the long shadow of truth becomes visible everywhere you look.

    ¡°Are you sure you''re ready for this, Mister Bascombe? You seem terribly distracted,¡± the sound of his voice breaking my reverie.

    ¡°Terribly sorry, Mister ?rdelon. Just musing over life issues I''m sure we all share to some degree. I don''t have time to indulge in that sort of nonsense right now. Too much on my plate.¡±

    ¡°Agreed, Mister Bascombe, and I''m trying to think over any contingency I''m missing. I won''t lie and say I''m comfortable with this mission or anything about it. The Hard Coast Company is going far and beyond what their normal defenses are to protect your father.¡±

    As he was in thought, the valet came running back in with what looked like a huge animal pelt.

    ¡°Ah, here we are!¡± said ?rdelon. ¡°You forget you''re going to the Northern Peaks. It will be freezing up there even this time of the year.¡±

    Offering it to me and unfolding it, the pelt was a cloak of gray wolf fur lined with silk and extremely well-made. Knowing how cold it would be, I donned the garment immediately.

    ¡°Well, Mister ?rdelon,¡± I said, ¡°there''s nothing to do now but see what happens. At least it''s just my father and not an enemy I don''t know. Send me please, when you''re ready. And thank you for the cloak, it''s beautiful.¡±

    ¡°Very well, Mister Bascombe and you''re welcome. Just remember, you have one hour and then I''m coming for you if you haven''t returned on your own. Here we go.¡±

    I had all I needed in a satchel he had provided. Quill, ink, and paper, my scroll, and all of the paperwork the Hard Coast Company had originally sent with me. I had some questions for my father about the wording of the agreement to be signed with the Elves, nothing seemingly out of the ordinary, just clarification.

    ?rdelon backed away from me, waved his hands, made some symbols with his fingers, and said ¡°Tembrist finia abnurdum santrio plata!¡±

    The next thing I knew, I was in my father''s chalet and thank gods for the cloak. The building was of an open design. A kitchen and sitting room were downstairs with a great hearth that was ablaze and well-tended. A flight of stairs in the middle of the room led up to a loft which was the bedroom, open to the rest of the space. The place was silent save for the crackle of the fire and the pattering of snowflakes on the window panes.

    Not too loudly, I called out, ¡°Father?¡± Not hearing a response, I was about to call out again, more loudly, when a woman''s face peered over the loft''s bannister, a haunting, pale face with jet black hair and a black robe. Gathering her garment about her, the woman called over her shoulder, ¡°Culver, is this your son?¡±

    I couldn''t see the face clearly, but something about it caused a shiver to run down my spine. My head was spinning trying to place it.

    ¡°Hrmph, harrumph, what''s that you say beloved?¡± My father was obviously rousing from sleep, disoriented.

    ¡°There''s a young man here, Culver, calling for his father. Should I tell him he has the wrong chalet?¡± She giggled a rather sinister sounding giggle and I could hear my father getting out of the bed, throwing his dressing gown about himself.

    ¡°Father, it''s Tendil! I''ve come from the Taliswood to see you on a matter of some import!¡±

    The woman''s face was just a broad smile beaming down from the upstairs.

    ¡°Tendil? What on earth are you doing here my boy? Um, this is my nurse, er, Miss Lillia, we were just ¡­¡±

    ¡°I know you''ve a mistress, Father. You can save the lies!¡±

    ¡°Well, then, young Mister Bascombe,¡± the woman spoke, ¡°Introductions are in order.¡±

    As she began to descend the staircase, her face slowly revealed itself as she came into the full glow of the hearth light. I noticed her ears firstly, they were pointed, like Elf ears but slightly less so. She was short, perhaps 4¡¯10¡± and very petite. Her hands, gripping the bannister, ended in long fingers of an alabaster paleness. Her light gray eyes were large and her eyebrows arched over them giving a malevolent cast to her face though her smile was still there.

    She wasn''t an Elf, not completely, but I still couldn''t get a bearing on her age. She certainly appeared much younger than my father. Then it struck me. I knew this woman! Everyone in Wikehold knew this woman! This was the Half-Elf Witch, Clarix, a woman known to move from wealthy suitor to wealthy suitor, a scandalous revelation to say the least. She was infamous for bleeding her lovers dry and leaving them in ruin, and this based on her beauty alone, nevermind her magical abilities which were rumored to be of the highest sort.

    ¡°What¡­¡± before I could get the words out, she waved a hand and said ¡°Trellentis!¡±

    I was suddenly unable to speak, or, as I found out, even move. I was frozen in place. Not petrified or anything of that sort, but paralyzed.  I found I could struggle, but only a little, and the spell pushed back against me.

    ¡°Oh, this will never do!¡± said the Witch as she finally stepped to the floor of the sitting room. ¡°Get down here, Culver! At once!¡±

    My father was down as quickly as he could move, having gained at least another ten pounds since the last time I saw him, and he fought to catch his breath.

    As she sized me up with her eyes, Cralix looked to my father, ¡°What''s he doing here, Culver? We were supposed to be in secret!¡±

    ¡°Oh dear!¡± my father spoke, ¡°What have you done to him, my Love?¡±

    ¡°He is merely held, Culver. As a safety precaution. He''s unharmed. You don''t hurt do you, Master Tendil?¡±

    Addressing me as a child was quite annoying. Knowing I couldn''t answer or even make a small gesture was worse. I couldn''t remember all of the rumors regarding Cralix. She was said to be over 200 years old though a Half-Elf could expect to live to be well over 500. She didn''t look a day over 30. Exquisitely beautiful.

    Her involvement with my father was obviously about money. What else might be involved I would have to find out for myself.

    ¡°Allow me to help you with these, Master Tendil,¡± she said, pulling the ring from my finger and the necklace from about my neck. Pocketing them, she said ¡°Ordenarix.¡±

    And suddenly, I could feel her in my head, like fingers sifting through sand. It was the same feeling I had had from being with Count Pelisir that first day in the Queen''s quarters but much more intrusive, not trying for any sort of discretion or delicacy.

    ¡°Oh my, Culver,¡± she said to my father. ¡°This will never do.¡±

    Just then, the front door of the chalet opened and a blustery cold breeze swept across the room. One of the Swalesian guards stuck his head in, looking surprised to see me, and asked if everything was ok.

    ¡°We''re fine, Demyet. Resume your watch, if you please.¡± My father commanded. He seemed to be quite alright with me being incapacitated like this.

    ¡°Yes, my Lord,¡± Demyet replied and ducked back outside.

    Cralix moved over to a long sofa with a large quilt thrown over it and took a seat. Sighing heavily, she said ¡°He either knows or suspects quite a bit, Culver. Though he knows neither my or your place in the scheme.¡±

    ¡°Good, then, ¡°said my father to her, ¡°You can let him go, unharmed.¡±

    ¡°Yes and no, Culver,¡± she replied. I need some time to dig further here. That boring old Elf, ?rdelon, has stuck his nose into Tendil¡¯s business quite heavily. I don''t think I mind that they know I''m involved. We''re past concerns about that now.¡±

    She studied me very carefully for what seemed like an eternity.

    When she spoke again, she said, ¡°?rdelon will be arriving here in less than forty-five minutes. If we leave your son here like this, he''ll be fine and we''ll have time to go to our backup plan without fear of pursuit or any further meddling.¡±

    My father was all too agreeable. ¡°Very well, my Love. Let me pack our things quickly and we can be off.¡±

    ¡°How I do love you so, Culver,¡± she said with no emotion whatsoever, almost contemptuously. ¡°I''ll summon some clothes more suitable for the warmth once we get there.¡±

    She glared at me. ¡°And there''s your only clue as to our destination, Master Tendil.

    As they readied for their departure, she said to me boastfully, ¡°You''ve done well with some of your suppositions, Boy. Others, not so much. But it matters little as everything is in motion now, the plan near completion. I will congratulate you and say that I underestimated you. Perhaps I should have gone after you rather than him,¡± she indicated my father with a toss of her head.

    Coming over to me, she reached into my satchel and removed the scroll. ¡°You won''t be needing this, Love,¡± she whispered in my ear, sending a hot flush through my body. An embarrassing and maddening flush! This was the enemy, Tendil! Keep your wits about you!

    Once all of their belongings were gathered in the sitting room, my father gasping for air and wheezing, the Swalesian guards were summoned in and Cralix spoke, ¡°Tembrist finia abnurdum santrio plata!¡± and they were gone.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 20: A Painful Admission

    The wait for ?rdelon¡¯s return was interminable. The hearth was giving off ample heat, and with the thick wolf pelt on my back, I was sweating profusely. I didn''t know what to make of any of what had just transpired. Was my father on the side of the Swlesians? Had the Hard Coast Company enlisted the aid of Cralix, or were she and my father into something else? And what of Mag''stula? And don''t forget Margrin Ephisiery¨®n, he must know of Cralix''s involvement. His net within Wikehold was cast  too wide for such a thing to go without notice. Dear gods, I wasn''t even certain of the ultimate role of the Wood Elves and High Elves in any of this.

    With still a half an hour left until I could expect ?rdelon''s arrival, I fell asleep, standing up and immobile.

    I awoke to the Elf''s chattering. ¡°By ¨¦lois! What on earth has happened here, Mister Bascombe? You''re held tight!¡±

    With a wave of his hand and the word ¡°Dissonitia!¡± from his lips, I was released suddenly, collapsing to the floor.

    Helping me up the best he could, ?rdelon walked me over to the sofa, taking the fur cloak from about me and proffering a handkerchief with which I wiped my face and forehead.

    ¡°I''ve never been happier to see a familiar face, my Friend!¡± I was sincere in saying that and I did feel that I could count him as a friend though I''ve always kept few.

    Pouring two glasses of brandy from an end table, he offered one to me and sat next to me on the couch.

    ¡°What took place here, Bascombe? Spare no details. It''s all important.¡± He was visibly distraught although I assured him none of this was his fault.

    ¡°Oh, but it is, Bascombe. I didn''t research the situation to the full extent of my abilities. This is no time to be lax! All magic leaves a signature. If I had been more diligent, Cralix''s name would have been obvious, written all over the spells on her and your father and the chalet. She is most certainly not unknown to me.¡±

    ¡°Nor to me, Sir,¡± I replied, ¡°She''s something a legend on the streets of my city. My father has lost his mind! He''ll never keep this disreputable dalliance from the rumor mill if it isn''t already there. My mother is not a woman deserving of pity but she''s almost earned mine here. Certainly there are wealthier if not more handsome men Cralix could predate! Why my father?¡±

    He looked into my eyes and gave a half-hearted smile. ¡°Why, the amber, Mister Bascombe! Come now, you can''t fall behind in your understanding now! You''ve come so far!¡±

    I was still missing something. But she has all the money she needs certainly, ?rdelon. Why this?¡±

    ¡°Bascombe!¡± He grabbed me by my shoulders and playfully shook me. ¡°You''re thinking of her purely as the Black Widow of Wikehold. She is so much more than that! Her power as a Witch is perhaps rivaled by only Mag''stula herself.¡±

    He took a large draught of brandy, coughed, and leaned back into the sofa¡¯s cushions. ¡°This may be the most expensive brandy I''ve ever tasted!¡± he laughed. ¡°Your father has exceptional taste. In some things at least. I jest of course. Clarix is as beautiful now as she ever has been. Allow me to give you a little more insight about her so we might be better prepared the next time we cross paths with her.¡±

    Knocking back another quaff, he refilled his glass as well as mine which remained untouched.

    ¡°Save some room in there for rational thought ?rdelon, your brain is going to be full of fog if you keep it up.!¡±

    But he wasn''t listening. Frankly, he looked lost and defeated. I took the opportunity to tell him everything that had transpired before his arrival. He just nodded as I spoke. Blank-faced.

    As I finished, I waited patiently for a response. What came next was a shock that caused me to catch my breath.

    ¡°She''s my daughter, Mister Bascombe. Cralix is my daughter.¡±

    He spoke so softly, I could barely discern his words over the crackle of the fire.

    ¡°Your daughter!¡± I was incredulous. None of this fit.

    ¡°Yes, Mister Bascombe! My daughter!¡± He was suddenly angry, the quiet look of acceptance replaced by a fiery venom.

    ¡°I''m so sorry, Mister ?rdelon, truly, I don''t know wha¡­¡±

    He broke me off, ¡°Save the pity, Bascombe! She''s more dangerous than you could possibly know. Please,¡± he nudged my glass toward me, ¡°don''t make me drink alone.¡±

    ¡°Very well, Sir! Now tell me your story, and quickly, we must get back to the Taliswood and Queen May. We''ve important developments to report.!¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, Mister Bascombe. I''ll be brief. It''s just that it''s a backstory you must know for some better context in all this.¡±

    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

    I took a stiff pull of brandy and he began, ¡°I have been married before, Mister Bascombe, to a beautiful Elven woman named Nesterish. We were married for just over 500 years, but never had children. We didn''t think it our place. She was on the path to be a great Wizard as well, you see? The roadmap we were given didn''t include a child, just a keen focus on our studies. She was brilliant.¡±

    He hadn''t stopped crying. I offered him a handkerchief of my own and he took it absentmindedly, just holding it tightly.

    Nesterish was taken by some form of consumption. Terribly uncommon for Elves to contract. She had been teaching many students though, some of them Human, and there was speculation that that was the source of her illness. But I''ve cast many spells looking for a cause, Mister Bascombe, and consumption doesn''t spread like that. I had to see her waste away before my eyes in less than six months, to this day, none the wiser as to how or why.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps a month or so after her passing, one of her students, a young Wizard, came to me, a beautiful raven-haired girl named Veralia. She seduced me, Mister Bascombe, and I''m ashamed to say it was easily done. I was so very lonely. And then I didn''t see her again until several months later. She had with her a girl child, obviously hers with the blackest hair you''ve seen, and mine with steely gray eyes and slightly pointed ears.¡±

    ¡°All she wanted of me was to be a father to the child and a husband to her until the girl came of age. Just so she''d have the finest upbringing and be away from Human society. To this day, I don''t know the grudge Veralia had against her fellow Humans, but it was fierce.¡±

    ¡°We were actually very happy, Mister Bascombe, for a time. Until Cralix came into adulthood. Then Veralia vanished. Her beauty faded so quickly as she aged. Like watching someone in a place where the time is out of control. When she was 40, she looked 700 in Elf years. She could see it in my eyes, wondering where the beauty went. I''m convinced that''s why she left. Why she left Cralix with me, I''ll likely never know.¡±

    ¡°Cralix had an ideal childhood, all things considered. Half-Elven children are fairly readily accepted in our culture, so she had plenty of friends. But she was also the daughter of a powerful Wizard, with access to centuries worth of scrolls, books, and academic works. Her interest in the arcane was piqued at an early age. I forbade her, though, from going deep into those studies until she came of age and had completed her normal schooling. That was not the correct path for her, Mister Bascombe. I''ve erred many times in my long life, but restricting her access to magic has been perhaps my greatest mistake.¡±

    ¡°All things looked well-enough from my vantage point. She graduated University with degrees in medicine and philosophy, although her work seemed to be purely of a scholarly nature. She spent a great deal of time in the woods gathering herbs, making botanical essences and nectars.¡±

    ¡°But then I found out the wicked truth. One of my own students, a young lad with a very bright future, came to me to speak in confidence. I couldn''t imagine what it could be, but he asked if I weren''t concerned that my daughter was consorting with some fellow named Avricon. I had never heard of this Avricon and asked Cralix about him when she came home that evening.¡±

    ¡°Oh, Father, he''s just a rustic, a Human hermit living in the woods, but his knowledge of the flora and fauna is staggering. I merely go to him to have things identified and explained in greater detail.¡± She told me quite plainly and with seeming honesty. So I thought nothing of it. Surely I would have heard if he was dangerous. The boy who reported the story to me was likely just enamored with Cralix and jealous.¡±

    But then the young boy vanished. No one had a clue what might have happened to him. He was just there one day and then gone. I assumed, like many young folk do, that he had gotten the notion to give the adventuring life a try and had merely run away. He''d be back at the first sight of an angry hobgoblin with blood in its eyes.¡±

    ¡°A year passed, though, without word. It nagged at the back of my mind. I heard nothing more about Avricon until months later. Cralix came home to me one evening, crying uncontrollably. I asked her the matter and she told me that this Avricon fellow had used his age and experience to seduce her, and that she was with child.¡±

    ¡°Believe me when I tell you Mister Bascombe, my world went red at those words. My head throbbing, my pulse racing, my body felt as if it were on fire! I wanted nothing more than to kill this creature, Avricon. I stormed out into the night to find him. Oddly, she didn''t give chase or try to stop me, just sat there in our sitting room, sobbing.¡±

    ¡°It didn''t take much to track down Avricon. He was widely known in our community as a fairly powerful Witch and a gifted herbalist. Women with unborn children could go to him and have their pregnancy ended. Which raised the question as to why Cralix hadn''t already done this if he forced himself on her. But I''ll not pretend to know the female mind. Especially when it comes to matters of procreation.¡±

    ¡°When I found the hermit''s hut, I wasn''t prepared for what I would see, Mister Bascombe. It still causes my heart to go cold. The man''s body was shredded into tiny bits strewn about the hut¡¯s interior with blood covering every surface. It had been done by something from beyond this world, surely. The maliciousness and depravity behind this attack couldn''t have been ¡­ no, it couldn''t possibly have been carried out by Cralix. This was an act of pure evil of the sort that one rarely sees outside of combat, Mister Bascombe. And I had fought in the Siege of the Black Banner. I''ve seen horrific things one creature can do to another. This was mutilation of a sort with which I was unfamiliar.¡±

    ¡°One thing I did notice before I left, there was a table in the corner of the hut, its top covered with shattered and crushed pieces of included amber. Whether the idea to get to it had come from her or Avricon, I''ll never know. But they had been experimenting with forces beyond either of their abilities or knowledge.¡±

    ¡°I left immediately. I needed to get home and talk to Cralix. Find out what had happened there in that hut, but, above all else, console her and see what she was thinking about her future and her child.¡±

    ¡°When I got home, Mister Bascombe, it was unnervingly quiet. She seemed to be sitting where I left her, but the tears had stopped. She looked eerily calm. I spoke first, ¡®Cralix, my Dear, I saw the scene at the hermit''s hut. Tell me, my Darling, are you okay?¡¯¡±

    ¡°I hate to use the word, but she gave me the creepiest smile I''ve ever seen and said, ¡®Wasn¡¯t it beautiful, Father? All crimson and scarlet, and he won''t be able to hurt me anymore. I''m certain of it.¡¯¡±

    ¡°Cralix,¡¯ I said, ¡®Listen to me. I don''t care what you''ve done to this hermit. You''re my daughter. It was nothing I didn''t want to do as well. But, my Dear, the savagery, from where did that come? You''ve been raised in a pacifistic environment.¡¯¡±

    ¡°¡®Oh, Father, Avricon taught me how to talk with the demons and devils, the aberrations, things beyond our understanding. He taught me to call them to our plane. I just invited Yuskifoylipek to pay him a visit. Told him how Avricon had hurt me. He''s my favorite, Yuskifoylipek, such a grand schemer.¡¯¡±

    ¡°And she giggled, Bascombe. A giggle to make you never want to hear another.¡±

    ¡°I asked her about the baby and she merely said, ¡®Oh, he''s gone, Father. There''s no room for him today. Not today.¡¯ And I noticed for the first time, on the table before her, a half-drunk glass of wine and a small parchment packet of the sort powdered drugs are dispensed in. There was blood on the front of her dress and the weight of the whole thing came crashing down on me at once. I took her in my arms and ran to Mother Felistia immediately though I''m not fit physically for the act, I''m ashamed to admit. My body was being driven by my heart, which was breaking for my girl.¡±

    ¡°Anyway, after that, she was never the same. And now I''m forced to ask if it wasn''t she who seduced Avricon rather than the other way around. Perhaps she got pregnant and he wanted the child and she didn''t. She''s evil, Bascombe. I don''t know where it came from. Certainly not her mother or me. Maybe it was Avricon. She''s just become so malevolent that I can''t tell anymore. She''s not my Cralix.¡±

    ¡°She was banned from here, from all Elven lands. When she left, she ventured south to Swalesia. The king at that time was Mis''jab, just another tyrant. But she worked her way through to him, ahead of an entire harem of wives and concubines. Set to be their next queen, Mis¡¯jab¡¯s Witches discovered her amber and its secret. They confiscated the amber and were prepared to flay her publicly before she made her escape. She''s slippery. All she did though, was whet the Swalesians¡¯ appetite for more of the powerful amber.¡±

    ¡°That''s what she''s after, Mister Bascombe, the amber. Gods knows what she''d do with it, but we can''t let her have it. She''s using your father and the Hard Coast Company to get to it. They, you, can''t be allowed in the bidding.¡±

    ¡°No, Mister ?rdelon, I see that very plainly. But who can have it? There doesn''t appear to be an acceptable choice outside the Gray Elves just maintaining their control. It would be a shame to have to destroy it. There''s so much good that could come from it.¡±

    ¡°Well, Mister Bascombe, these are matters for minds with more authority than ours. Let''s get back to the Palace quickly and tell Queen May what we''ve found.¡±

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 21: Friends and Lovers

    Before I realized the trip had begun, we were standing in the throne room at the Royal Palace in Nez Ambr¨ªl. Queen May was sitting on her throne, an elaborate thing carved from sugar maple and connected with bright silver. She looked bored and tired.

    When ?rdelon and I appeared before her, she jumped, startled, then sat up quickly, standing as we approached the throne. ¡°What in the name of ¨¦lois took you two so long?¡± she bellowed at us. ¡°I''ve been beside myself with worry!¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± ?rdelon began, ¡°we were¡­¡±

    ¡°Silence ?rdelon, or I''ll have your tongue!¡± She yelled over him. ¡°Mister Bascombe, speak! What news have you?¡±

    Count Pelisir, Mastil, Mal''friq, Margrin Ephisiery¨®n, all were in attendance along with a young looking blonde Elf I hadn''t seen before though he looked like royalty. I was guessing him to be King Fanrist, III of the High Elves. He stood immediately behind Queen May and beside Mastil.

    Count Pelisir rushed to me, feeling my forehead and wiping my face with his handkerchief. ¡°Your Majesty, if you please, allow them a moment to catch their breath. They''ve obviously been through an ordeal.¡±

    ¡°Very well, Pelisir,¡± she said, sounding none too pleased to have been interrupted. ¡°Valets! Get them some water and bring chairs so that they might sit and tell us what has happened! Hopefully it''s nothing urgent and we shan''t cause them any further duress,¡± she said dryly.

    Once we were seated and had some cool water to calm us down, I began the tale. There were gasps all around when I first mentioned Cralix. The story of her and Avricon was obviously known far and wide. I finished with the caution that I couldn''t be trusted to handle any of the negotiations over the amber, and all gathered were nodding their heads as it all sunk in.

    ¡°Well now,¡± Queen May began, ¡°where does that leave us?¡± There was quiet in the room.

    ¡°That will put her behind the mercenary army to the West. Has there been any enemy movement on any front, so far?¡± she asked Count Pelisir.

    ¡°Nothing to this point, Your Majesty. We do know that the mercenary army has had their pay adjusted by someone and there are seamstresses sewing large numbers of tabards through the night. Black with a white raven''s eye. Is that Cralix?¡±

    ?rdelon interjected, ¡°When she was a little girl I often told her she had the eyes of a raven. Always seeing things even when she shouldn''t. It''s her, to be certain. With what backing from the Hard Coast Company or if Feersland is involved or not, I cannot know. She may be merely a face put to their machinations.¡±

    To Pelisir, Queen May inquired ¡°What''s the news on Mag''stula''s army? Are they still on the move?¡±

    Going to a table in the middle of the room and sorting through several maps laid out there, Pelisir pointed to an area to the northeast of the Taliswood, just south of the Azlit Mountains, a range that framed the continent in its North.

    ¡°They are here, Your Majesty,¡± he said, making a small circling motion with his index finger. The Clouds Elves and Snow Elves are doing a fine job of harassing them from their right flank, and the Sun Elves are giving them hell trying to sustain their supply lines. The Gnolls are too spread out trying to keep their force together to be an immediate threat. But, if they made a surge, they''d be in the North of the Woods in a week''s time. The Sun Elf cavalry won''t follow them in. They''re not suited for that sort of fighting. The Sand Elves are besieging Yis-Gl¨¢z from the East out of the Wastes. That''s further disrupting supplies getting to Mag''stula''s forces. All in all, our strategy on the Eastern Front is going better than planned.¡±

    Turning to another map, this one of the Southern Taliswood and points further South, he continued, ¡°There are 250,000 crack Swalesian troops here.¡± He indicated an area between the Dwarven mountains and the Southern fenlands. ¡°They bring in more by barge daily with significant amounts of food and materiel. It''s a daunting sight you should take the time to see, Your Majesty, the next time our Wizards are scrying.¡±

    ¡°No sense in me trying to scare myself, Pelisir,¡± she replied. ¡°We''re facing them whether it be 250,000 or 500,000. I stopped being afraid of numbers when I was a child. Those Swalesian troops don''t even know why they''re fighting other than hearing the crack of a whip or the jingle of coin.¡±

    ¡°Fanrist,¡± she spoke directly to the High Elf King, ¡°are you going to be ready for the mercenary army once they show their hand?¡±

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    ¡°Of course, Your Majesty. They''re rabble. We''ve also brokered an agreement with the Moon Elves to come at their rear once they''ve approached Nez Clar?. The Moon Elves want a certain percentage of the amber concession, and that will need to be worked out, but they should be happy with two-percent of the gross. It''s only fair given their support in the past and their continued assistance militarily.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± was Queen May''s quick assessment. ¡°And, in the South, are the Sea Elves and Fire Elves making their presence felt?¡±

    Pelisir was quick to answer, ¡°Yes, Your Majesty, the Sea Elves are harassing Swalesian settlements along the South Coast and taking out as many barges as they can, but the port is very well defended. The Fire Elves are doing what they can to create mischief in the Southeast, burning crops, poisoning wells, freeing slaves where they can.¡±

    ¡°Our only hitch to this point, Your Majesty, is the Dwarves. They promise nothing until the Swalesian army begins to head North, then they can skirmish along the enemy''s rear and disrupt supply lines. But they fear a head-on encounter, as well they should.¡±

    Queen May looked stoically about the room. So much on her plate. ¡°Fanrist, Mestil, we will keep the included amber here at Nez Ambr¨ªl. We will distribute amounts to each of your kingdoms for the purpose of experimentation as your Wizards call for it, but it will all be accounted for. I''ll have none finding its way to Mag''stula or Cralix or whatever demon mages exist in Swalesia and Feersland. The stuff will NOT hit the market or I''ll rescind the offer I''m putting into place now. Is that clear?¡±

    Both Elves were calculating the scenario in their heads as May waited for an answer. Fanrist spoke first, ¡°Your Majesty, I would put forward that we and the Wood Elves should be allowed to trade the included amber amongst ourselves as the situation dictates. We''ve many more magic-users than Mestil has in his population and they are much farther along in experimentation with the amber in question. I''m simply asking that we be able to buy any extra that the Wood Elves aren''t using.¡±

    ¡°That won''t be necessary Fanrist. The amber will be allotted according to need. We''ll do those calculations at a later date. But I don''t want too much unused amber to accumulate in any place, here as well. We''ve plans drawn up for a very secure system of vaults beneath Nez Ambr¨ªl in which it will all be deposited. It will be far enough below ground where we can destroy surplus amber as needed, if needed without risk of the Mana leaking into the environment.¡±

    Looking to ?rdelon, Queen May asked, ¡°And on that front, Mister ?rdelon, are there any further updates on your spell research? And I do apologize for snapping at you earlier, Sir. You don''t deserve that.¡±

    ?rdelon blushed visibly, it''s rare that a monarch will apologize to an inferior for any reason. ¡°Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, Your Majesty. Apology gratefully accepted. And, yes, we have made several advances in our research. I''m hesitant to list them here, but know that there are some nasty surprises in store for any would-be attackers. Perhaps all we shall need to turn the tide of battle in our favor.¡±

    Queen May smiled, ¡°That''s encouraging news, Mister ?rdelon, and I respect your secrecy. We''ll leave it at that.¡±

    Surveying the room, she said ¡°It feels like we''re in good position, Count Pelisir, unless I''m missing something?¡±

    ¡°No, Your Majesty, I''m in full agreement. As we stand now, we are ready for what might be thrown our way.¡±

    ¡°And what time are we given, Sir?¡± she asked.

    ¡°We''ve at least a week, Your Majesty, barring any surprises or unforeseen circumstances.¡±

    She smiled at the Count, ¡°But that''s your job, Pelisir, to foresee the unforeseen!¡±

    ¡°I jest, Sir, to a degree. You know your job as do we all. Very well. I need to rest my mind for a time, if you''ll all excuse me.¡±

    As the lot of us turned to exit the throne room, the Queen called, ¡°Mister Bascombe, I need to see you in my quarters for a moment. It shan''t take long.¡±

    ¡°Y-yes, Your Majesty,¡± I stammered, catching a brutal glare from Count Pelisir that made my face flush. Surely he didn''t suspect anything between the Queen and I. He was likely just being territorial.

    In the Queen''s private rooms, she excused the valets, leaving just the two of us. In her bed chambers. Most unseemly, but she didn''t seem to give a fig about appearances.

    She went behind a dressing screen and began to disrobe, leaving me startled and confused. Her robe was draped over the screen and I could see her lithe figure as she donned a linen tunic and breeches. Her shape was stunning and I felt like an invasive child peeking in on the grown-ups.

    ¡°Do you find me attractive, Mister Bascombe?¡± she called from behind the screen still.

    I was stunned, feeling as I did when Cralix cast her hold on me. I could barely force out, ¡°Y-your Majesty, I hardly think th¡­¡±

    ¡°I''m not looking for a debate, Mister Bascombe! Just a simple ¡®yes¡¯ or ¡®no¡¯ will do. Be honest!¡± she interrupted.

    Finding my spine, I answered, ¡°Of course I do, Your Majesty! You''re one of the most beautiful women I''ve ever had the pleasure of setting eyes on.¡±

    Still behind the screen. ¡°Well I find you equally attractive, Mister Bascombe. What say you to that?¡±

    My head was swimming and I was beginning to sweat profusely. ¡°Your Majesty, I''m flattered beyond words. Truthfully I don''t know what to say but that it makes me incredibly happy to hear you say that.¡±

    ¡°What about the age difference, Sir?¡± she asked. ¡°What is it, 400, 500 years?¡±

    ¡°I wouldn''t care if it were 5,000, Your Majesty,¡± I pronounced, boldly.

    ¡°Oh, you do flatter so Mister Bascombe,¡± she said coming from behind the screen. She had let her hair down in loose braids over her shoulders.

    She slowly approached me and I felt as if I would faint. The blood in my temples was certainly throbbing visibly as my heart felt it would leap from my chest. ¡°Calm down, Mister Bascombe,¡± she said, placing her open hands on my shoulders and leaning up to my mouth, ¡°You''re safe here.¡±

    She kissed me, slowly, deeply, tenderly, then backed away. Looking down and smirking, she said ¡°Sheathe that rapier for another day, Good Sir! Twas but a kiss!¡±

    I blushed like a virgin on her wedding night and tried to cover myself. ¡°My Queen, I mean no disrespect.¡±

    ¡°On the contrary, Mister Bascombe. I''m quite flattered,¡± she said, smiling like the cat who''s swallowed the canary. ¡°And you may go now, Mister Bascombe. I truly do need to rest my head. But it feels good to get that out in the open, doesn''t it?¡±

    I was beaming, ¡°Yes, Your Majesty, it feels amazing.¡±

    ¡°You can dispense with the titles when we''re alone Tendil. Call me May. And now you''re sworn to absolute secrecy at the risk of forfeiture of your life, do you understand?¡±

    ¡°Yes, of course Your M¡­of course, May.¡±

    ¡°Very well, Tendil. Now don''t go thinking too far ahead on this thing. ¨¦lois knows where it will lead. Perhaps nowhere. Let us enjoy the now for now, shall we?¡±

    ¡°It will be a delight,¡± I said leaving the room but looking over my shoulder at her. Unable to take my eyes off her and confound this beautiful dream. She was smiling broadly as she laid down to nap, or whatever it is Elves do rather than sleep.

    By the gods, what has befallen me? I''m beyond infatuated. My heart is this woman''s to do with as she will. A dangerous place to be, but I feel alive in a way I''ve never known. Surely something dire is on the horizon!

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 22: Taken to Account

    I fairly floated back to my rooms. Half in dream and half without. Six inches above the corridor but still hearing my boots striking the wood. I went through my doorway like a hovering spirit when it was all pulled out from under me.

    ¡°What do you do, Mister Bascombe?¡± came the angry voice of Count Pelisir, rising from the couch in my sitting room. ¡°Do you mean to undermine all of this,¡± he yelled, sweeping his hands to indicate that he meant everything, ¡°in an hour when we need the strongest and most clearly focused leadership?¡±

    He grabbed me by my shoulders and put his face directly into mine. ¡°You, Sir, will not wreck this! Not on my watch, damn you! I know what the Queen does here. She''s done it before. By ¨¦lois, the attraction to you Humans is an utter mystery to me!¡± His face was a brilliant shade of red as he turned and paced back across the room.

    I wasn''t sure how to proceed, but he obviously knew the truth. And had she done this before? He made it sound as if she had a problem with the serial courting of Humans which was rather disheartening. I decided to remain quiet for the time being, let him have his say.

    He called out, ¡°Valet, bring us a bottle of wine and two glasses if you please ¡ª the white from the Coast, and see that you get the coldest bottle.¡±

    He sat heavily on the couch and sighed. ¡°Damn you, Bascombe! I was growing quite fond of you.¡±

    I came and sat at the other end of the couch. ¡°And why do you make that sound so final?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Well, you obviously can''t stay here,¡± he said, "you''re a distraction for the Queen and you''re out of the bidding process at any rate. You''ve become superfluous.¡±

    I was taken aback by his casual approach. I too thought we had developed a friendship of sorts. And to be dismissed so out of hand.

    ¡°My Lord, I won''t leave the Queen''s side. Not with what lies ahead. I shall protest directly to her and ¡­¡±

    ¡°You would usurp my authority here in my own kingdom, Human?¡± he yelled over me.

    ¡°Are you the King now?¡± I protested. ¡°Or is it Queen May''s decision to make?¡±

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    ¡°There''s where you overstep, Mister Bascombe,¡± he scolded me, ¡°I am in charge of the military and the security of this kingdom. If I see a threat to either, I am within my purview to act on the situation as it dictates. Bear that in mind when next you speak!¡±

    ¡°My apologies, My Lord. I don''t know what I''m thinking. She''s had a powerful effect on me and I''m not myself.¡± I had to try to be diplomatic here. I couldn''t afford to lose any of it.

    ¡°On the contrary, Mister Bascombe,¡± he said condescendingly, ¡°I fear this is the first glimpse I''m being given of you. Tucked behind the diplomacy and masked with courtly manners, you''re the one man. Now I''m being shown another. An impetuous sort who would throw it all away for the love of a woman!¡±

    He looked me in the eyes sternly, ¡°Look, I understand, she''s beautiful, she''s brilliant, she''s perfect in every regard except that she''s a queen. Queens are necessarily off limits in a number of situations, wartime being paramount certainly. So, if you do stay, it will be under the strictest of conditions. By ¨¦lois, I fail to see the attraction Elves have for Humans! Is it the brevity of your existence? It''s as if you''re flowers, their beauty meant to be savored quickly and briefly while they bloom and then wilt. There''s not enough time! Why put oneself through the sorrow and pain?¡±

    ¡°You love her too, don''t you?¡± I was out of place to ask, but it was obvious.

    ¡°Of course I do, Bascombe! What fool wouldn''t be? Couldn''t be? She''s a gravitational entity. We''re all just spinning around her. For so long, I''ve forced myself to be content merely being in her orbit. It hurts to see her with another! But my duties to the Crown precede any personal desires. That''s my lot in life whether I want it or not. I was groomed for this position from childhood. We grew up together, she and I. She was groomed to rule, I to be the guardian of the flock. A sheepdog, Mister Bascombe. Nothing more. My job is to protect, not to interact.¡±

    The man had it for her as bad as I did. ¡°Perhaps if you grew a beard?¡± I said to lighten the mood.

    He looked at me intently for a moment then burst into laughter. ¡°I don''t see how you Humans can go about with that growth. It looks unbearably itchy, it catches food, it makes you look like some sort of primitive version of the Human female!¡±

    If you don''t like them, My Lord, just say so!¡± I came back.

    We fell into another fury of laughter as the valets were bringing in the wine service.

    ¡°Try as I might, Mister Bascombe, I can''t hate you. Maybe someday, but not now. Ah,¡± he said, picking up the wine bottle and holding it up to the candlelight, ¡°what a splendid color! Do you know this grape, Mister Bascombe.¡±

    I read the label and said happily, ¡°Of course I do, My Lord, it''s the White Grinyon from Feersland. Prized for its dryness due to the chalkiness of the soil on the Western cliffs. It''s one of my father''s vintages.¡±

    That dampened the mood. I hadn''t thought about him or Cralix much since we got back. By the gods, that whole ordeal was less than two hours ago! More than anything, I needed to lay my head down and sleep. A glass of wine would certainly help in that area.

    After pouring, Pelisir offered his glass for a toast. ¡°To the Queen! Long may she reign!¡±

    ¡°To the Queen! Long may she reign!¡± I replied. Thinking for a moment, I asked Count Pelisir a question to which I should have already known the answer. ¡°Will you fight, My Lord, or do you control the battlefield with your maps?¡±

    ¡°What an odd question, Mister Bascombe. Of course I''ll fight. I''m a Gatekeeper!¡±

    The term was lost on me. ¡°You''ll forgive me, My Lord, but I''m not familiar with the name.¡±

    ¡°I am a Paladin, Sir. Heavy cavalry. I lead the Gatekeepers. It was we who broke the Siege of the Black Banner, though I was only a banneret in those days. I still have the majority of my knights from that momentous occasion.¡±

    ¡°I was merely curious, My Lord. I''ve only ever seen you unarmed and in courtly garb.¡±

    ¡°Well, Bascombe, as fortune would have it, you''ll have the chance to see me with my lance sooner rather than later.¡±

    Taking the rest of the bottle of wine with him, we parted ways amicably, him reminding me that I was to pick up my armor the next afternoon. I would need to get in some crossbow practice in the morning. Until then, I was back to thinking about my beautiful Queen as I drifted off to sleep.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 23: Queen and Consort

    When the new day dawned, I felt very well-rested. I ordered a light breakfast of muffins and coffee and got a piece of parchment, quill, and ink. Scribbling quickly, I penned a brief note to Margrin for him to meet me at the archery range at eight bells. I sent the note along with a valet and dressed in my athletics outfit, putting my crossbow and bolts in the satchel ?rdelon had given me.

    I splashed cold water on my face from the washbasin and suddenly realized that I absolutely reeked! After some practice, a hot bath was surely in order.

    I asked my valet how I would go about bathing and he simply blushed. Curious, I asked him the matter and he shyly said ¡°Without clothes, Sir.¡±

    Surely the child couldn''t be that dense! I clarified myself, asking where I should go and he told me of a bathhouse on the ground behind the Palace Tree. Bagging a change of clothes, I set off for the archery range.

    Margrin wasn''t yet there when I arrived. In fact, I was alone. All the better for me because I had never fired one of these contraptions, but how hard could it be?

    In fact, thankfully, it was criminally easy. What a simple weapon to be so lethal. And it was a great equalizer. Anyone could learn to work one of these things. Just a pull of a trigger from range and you could end someone''s life. No training required.

    Be that as it may, I was determined to master the thing before May ever saw me try to loose a shot. Cocking the thing back was no problem. I placed a bolt into the tiller and took careful aim at a large, straw-filled target some 50 yards away.

    Aiming just high of the bullseye to account for the distance, I squeezed the trigger lever and the bolt leapt from the weapon. As soon as I took the shot, Cralix appeared directly in its line of flight!

    ¡°Get down!¡± I hollered, but too late. I was shocked though when the bolt passed right through the woman''s abdomen.

    Stepping to the side and looking back at the target, she said ¡°You''re a fine shot, Mister Bascombe. You shoot often?¡±

    Either my eyes or mind, perhaps both, were playing tricks on me. Yet, there was my bolt, stuck in the dead center of the target. How could I have missed her?

    ¡°I''m not here physically, Sir. I''m ¡­ well, I shan''t tell you where I am other than to say it''s warm and exotic, haha!¡±

    ¡°Why are you here in any form, Cralix?¡±

    ¡°I show myself lest you forget, Mister Bascombe. And also to make an offer.¡±

    ¡°I won''t bargain with you, Witch. I have my honor.¡±

    ¡°Hah! Sir, I can only speak for myself, but I''d rather be dishonorably wealthy and powerful than honorably poor and vulnerable! You''ve a true problem wrestling with your sanctimoniousness, don''t you Mister Bascombe? Afraid to expose what''s really in your heart?¡±

    What a maddening woman! ¡°I struggle with right and wrong as does anybody, Witch. And, no, I don''t feel morally superior to anyone. Except for perhaps vile creatures such as yourself.¡±

    ¡°I see,¡± she said calmly, ¡°I take it my father has told you the whole sordid tale about me.¡±

    ¡°He has, indeed,¡± I replied. ¡°Or at least as much as I need to know.¡±

    ¡°Oh, there''s so much more to it, Mister Bascombe!¡± she giggled.

    ¡°Your guest is arriving, Sir. Just allow me to say this, the more effort you put into finding me or waylaying my plans, the greater the risk to your dear father and mother. Maybe you don''t care so much about them, but they also currently steward the majority of your wealth. Good day, Mister Bascombe.¡±

    And she vanished just as the door opened behind me and Margrin entered the room.

    It must have appeared odd, me standing there, motionless, trying to assess what had just happened.

    ¡°Admiring your shot, Sir?¡± Margrin called.

    ¡°Hah! Indeed, Margrin! First time firing one of the damned things, too.¡±

    ¡°Impressive, Tendil. Glad to be on your side.¡±

    As he was unpacking his own bow and bolts, I said calmly, ¡°Cralix was here just now, Margrin. Before you came in.¡±

    ¡°Wait, wh¡­ what do you mean, Tendil? I passed no one coming in. Are you alright?¡± he said, coming over to me.

    ¡°Not here physically. She was projecting herself from wherever she and my father are hiding. I''ve a strong feeling they''re in Swalesia, but I can''t be certain. She''s threatened the safety of both my parents, Margrin, if I pursue plans against her.¡±

    He took a moment, ¡°There''s nothing of which I''d say she''s incapable, Tendil. I hate to add a negative note, but it''s the truth. She is irredeemably evil, that one. Gods knows how she came from the loins of ?rdelon. He''s a good Elf, Tendil.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Margrin, he seems to be. How about you, Sir? Are you a good Elf?¡±

    He looked at me blankly. ¡°What do you mean, Sir?¡±

    ¡°As tied into the Syndicate as you are, and the workings of the Hard Coast Company, can you honestly tell me you didn''t know about Cralix and my father?¡±

    He began to look slightly perturbed at my insinuations, ¡°Now see here, Bascombe! I''ll not have you ¡­¡±

    ¡°Besmirch your good name, Margrin? Sully your sterling reputation?¡±

    He actually looked hurt with those last words. ¡°Calm your tongue, Bascombe, before it gets calmed.¡±

    When he uttered the threat, I stepped back and drew my blade. ¡°Defend yourself, scoundrel!¡±

    He stepped back as well but didn''t draw steel. He put up his hands, palms facing me. ¡°You have me, Sir. I''m a barely adequate swordsman and I don''t wish to be run through this day.¡±

    ¡°Then sheathe your threats, Mister Ephisiery¨®n. They''ll steer you down a dark path with me. I must know though, Sir, with no priest present, you know a great deal more than you let on, don''t you?¡±

    ¡°I know some things, Mister Bascombe. Yes, I did know about your father and Cralix. The reason I didn''t mention it here is that I didn''t wish to upset ?rdelon. He had been free of the knowledge thus far, blessedly. Can you imagine being that one''s father and having her deeds recounted to you daily? But I''ve got people watching both of them. They are, in fact, in Sandlise in a villa overlooking the Baric.¡±

    Sandlise, if you''re unfamiliar, is the largest city on the Southern Hard Coast in the kingdom of Emfirinia on the Baric Ocean. Of course, the entirety of the Hard Coast is on the Baric Ocean. Emfirinia is a small kingdom, more of a city state actually, but very wealthy, an important trade hub for the Hard Coast Company.

    ¡°The important thing, Bascombe, is that I''ve been paying attention to their every move. I''ve seen nothing to suggest their involvement in these current affairs other than to send you as a negotiator. Both your father and Cralix are wealthy enough without all the effort to be involved in our mess.¡±

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    I sheathed my rapier. ¡°Please, Margrin, accept my apologies. I''m at my wits¡¯ end with all of the pieces here needing attention. I''m sorry.¡±

    ¡°Think nothing of it, Bascombe,¡± he sighed. ¡°It''s quite common in my line of work to be threatened actually. Far too common. Yet, here I am. I can''t imagine what you''re going through, to be honest. I never knew my father or mother.¡±

    ¡°You were orphaned?¡± I asked. I didn''t like the conversation going down this path. Especially dealing with someone like Margrin. He''s a terribly likeable fellow, but also, I''m sure, a consummate con artist. The tale unfolding before me would hit me on a visceral level, I was sure, and I needed to stay mentally sharp. Already under the influence of infatuation with May and anger with my father and Cralix, I needed to avoid any other diversions.

    ¡°We were travelling with a caravan heading from Nez Clar? to Nez Ambr¨ªl, just a two day trip by wagon, and we were set upon by Hobgoblins of the Red Fang tribe. I was only two, Bascombe. I hid under the bodies of my parents til the looting was over and the monsters left. I know it''s no longer diplomatic to call them monsters, but for a two-year old child, how do you tell the difference?¡±

    ¡°Anyway, another caravan came along a few hours later, a mix of Humans and Elves. These were Syndicate people, Bascombe. Coming out of the Taliswood and headed for Wikehold. Their cargo was stolen amber, so they were anxious to be out of the area or they would have taken me to Nez Clar? on the way through. Or so they said. I think they just fancied having a child to mold in their image, a sort of apprentice and mascot.¡±

    ¡°I''ve not heard that story, Margrin. Of all the tales I have heard about you, that one''s been left out. I''m sorry for the loss. Truly tragic.¡±

    ¡°The worst part, Bascombe, is that I know nothing about them, my parents. There were no survivors but me. No passenger manifests. The Hobgoblins burned what they didn''t take. Savage creatures. That''s why I left Wikehold during the Siege of the Black Banner and came to Nez Ambr¨ªl to fight. As xenophobic as those Elves are, did you know they have a foreign legion in their army? I came and went under an assumed name, of course. I can''t tell you how many of those bastards I killed. Dozens, hundreds. The bow is my weapon, Bascombe, and I sniped them mercilessly. Blind with rage the entire thirty-seven days of the siege.¡±

    ¡°I don''t know why I felt you needed to know all of that, Sir. Friend. Let''s have a truce between us. Please.¡±

    ¡°Very well, Margrin¡± I replied, ¡°you''ve led quite a life, haven''t you?¡±

    ¡°I''ve lived a dozen of your lives, Bascombe. And, ¨¦lois willing, I''ll live a dozen more. You still don''t know me as you should. Once I''ve saved your ass in battle two or three times, you''ll know who you can and cannot trust in this world.¡±

    ¡°Will you fight by me, with the Queen, Sir?¡± I was genuinely excited at the prospect. Until that moment, in all honesty, I was absolutely terrified, the whole idea of war and bloodshed simply an abstraction. I would be with May, but she was levels and levels above me when it came to matters martial. Margrin was someone with whom I could improve as a soldier.

    He seemed momentarily withdrawn. ¡°I haven''t asked yet to be part of her Royal Guard. I''m nervous at the prospect, speaking honestly. I cannot abide rejection, Bascombe. It rips me up.¡±

    ¡°I''ll vouch for you, my Friend,¡± I proclaimed as if my vote carried weight. ¡°I do think the Queen has warmed to you, and your experience in the siege should count for a lot. I''ll tell you, though, she''s rather disdainful about the longbow. She''ll want you to carry a crossbow if you''re around her.¡±

    ¡°I can make that adjustment, Tendil. I''m proficient with the weapon. And I suggest we get some practice in while we''re here instead of nattering the day away.¡±

    <hr>

    Around time for luncheon, I was summoned to the Queen''s chambers. And I still hadn''t bathed! Taking a washcloth to my pits and parts, a squirt of some essence of burned lavender, and I was as ready as I could be for now.

    One of the valets led me along the corridors to her rooms and asked me along the way if I was indeed the famed Human swordsman from Wikehold. I allowed that I was and the lad was absolutely beaming all the way to the Queen''s door. Feeling admiration is a powerful experience, dear reader. Would that we all get to experience it at least once in our brief lives.

    Knocking and then announcing me, the valet withdrew and I entered to see May seated at the table over tea. By herself for a change.

    ¡°Welcome, Tendil,¡± she spoke, smiling broadly and extending her hand.

    Taking it in mine and kissing it softly, I said, ¡°My lovely May. What an enduring pleasure.¡±

    She was not dressed as royalty today, a white linen tunic, brown breeches and black riding boots, her hair loosely pulled back in a bundle of braids. An amethyst in each earlobe the only sign of wealth and privilege other than her noble bearing.

    ¡°Tendil,¡± she said, "I must ask you something deeply personal if I may.¡±

    I couldn''t imagine anything I wouldn''t happily share with her. ¡°Of course my love,¡± I smiled.

    ¡°Tendil, my Dear, why do you smell so? ¡°

    That caught me completely off guard and I laughed, ¡°What do you mean, dearest?¡±

    ¡°Well, Tendil, respectfully, you smell like an unwashed vagrant in a brush fire. It''s terribly unpleasant.¡±

    Her candor was so endearing. I explained to her how the events of the past two days had delayed the bath I had planned. I also told her of my encounter with Cralix.

    ¡°We shan''t discuss the Witch,¡± she said, "it seems to me that there might be a mutual attraction betwixt you two and I won''t abide it!¡±

    I was aghast. ¡°My Darling, she is beautiful, but while she had ten percent of my eye, you have one hundred percent of my heart. And the other ninety percent of my eye, I might add.¡±

    ¡°Let me know when I have that last ten percent and I''ll give you a kiss, hmph!¡± Then she turned for the door and walked out. Rushing to follow and with no words spoken, we ended up at the baths.

    ¡°Go! Tendil! Make yourself suitable for a queen. I''ll have fresh clothes waiting for you in the dressing area.¡± She said dismissively.

    As I walked toward the baths, she said quietly, I could hardly hear her over the sound of horse drawn carts and pedestrian traffic. ¡°I know she''s beautiful, Tendil. I''m not blind. But it''s all me or nothing. Am I quite understood?¡±

    Rushing back over to her, I went to take her hand which she quickly snatched away. ¡°Not here, Love. Not in public.¡± she scolded.

    ¡°Very well, May. Let it be known, though, that you''re everything to me. My sun, my moon, all the beautifully poetic sentiments you could possibly imagine.¡±

    Rolling her eyes, she said ¡°Don''t be lazy Tendil. You can''t finish a list of romantic metaphors with a dismissive ¡®etcetera.¡¯¡±

    ¡°My apologies, Love. Shan''t happen again. My lists shall be extensive, meticulously defined, and possibly annotated for clarity.¡±

    I left her there giggling. And what a beautiful sound that was.

    <hr>

    When I emerged, fresh for the world''s approval, she welcomed me with a heartfelt smile and said, ¡°There, much better. Now let''s go put you in some armor, Sir.¡±

    As he was the last time, old Joakin was bent over an anvil pounding out glowing hot steel. And again, startled when he noticed us.

    ¡°Ah! My Queen! I''ve been expecting you! Quickly shuffling behind a cluttered counter, he pulled a long, thin wooden box from beneath it and placed it on the counter top once he''d shoved a great many items out of the way.

    ¡°For you to open, Your Majesty.¡±

    Lifting the box''s wooden lid, she exposed a thing of great beauty and stunning craftsmanship. A longsword, light dancing along the high shine of the blade, its hilt comprised of a golden cross guard, a huge purple sapphire inset in a pommel shaped like a fiery sun, and a leather grip that looked as soft as butter. It lay with a scabbard of the same leather as the grip, a chape and locket at top and bottom carrying on the sun motif in gold.

    ¡°By the gods, Sir! Surely you''ve outdone yourself Mister Joakin!¡±

    ¡°You''ve not seen your equipment yet, Mister Bascombe,¡± he said slyly.

    ¡°Aha!¡± I declared, ¡°you remembered my name, good Sir!¡±

    ¡°A true swordsman deserves to be remembered, Sir!¡± he replied, and I blushed. I was famous in Nez Ambr¨ªl all of a sudden. Word travels fast.

    A black  cloth was draped over a mannequin torso on a pole behind the counter and he uncovered it with a flourish. On it was a beautiful suit of torso, armor, and thigh armor, shining as if stars were captured in the metal itself.

    ¡°It''s all mithril,¡± Joakin explained. ¡°We''ve vertical metal splint on the chest, chainmail at the neck and abdomen, plate cuisses for the thighs, and banded mail on the arms for unfettered articulation. Wait ¡®til it''s on you! It weighs less than five pounds!¡±

    Quickly getting me laced up in the thing I found it to be amazingly light, not restricting at all. And with my Bracers of Cat¡¯s Grace, I moved like water. He had additionally made for me a skullcap style helmet, fur lined, with a spike at its crown to complete the outfit. Looking into a mirror, I must say it looked good on me.

    Then it was time for the weapons. To both of our surprise, the rapier he had forged for me was identical to May¡¯s longsword. Every detail mimicked. You could feel the magic coursing through the steel when you wrapped your hand around the soft grip.

    And then, the crossbow. What had he done here? The thing was made of mahogany with mother of pearl inlays depicting wasps, their stingers sharp. All the metal, trigger, cocking mechanism, were gold. ¡°It''s called ¡®Bite,¡¯ Mister Bascombe. The bolts you''ll fire from her sting with acid, a wound that keeps burning until it''s doused. Horribly lethal. Especially in the abdomen. Just keeps burning away until ¡­.¡±

    May interrupted, ¡°That''s quite enough, Joakin! We''ve not yet had lunch. No visualization of the horror is necessary.¡±

    It''s okay, Sir, I''m familiar with the weapon already,¡± remembering my first day in Nez Ambr¨ªl.

    Turning to me, she said, ¡°Doff your armor, Sir , and let''s get something to eat. I''m famished!¡±

    While valets rushed off to take our things back to the Palace, May and I sat under a small bay tree eating cheese and bread with cider we got from one of the many pushcarts you see along the main thoroughfare, quietly wasting away the afternoon despite all that loomed about us.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 24: Children of War

    May and I separated after that to make at least a small effort to limit what would hit the rumor mill. I don''t exaggerate when I say that all eyes were on us as we walked together, as platonic as it was. The timing of our meeting couldn''t possibly have been worse. But, if not for these events and circumstances, we would not have met at all.

    There was a clamor as I approached the Palace. Much running about and yelling of orders. The chaos was mostly being caused by Gnolls as Mag''stula''s war wagon pulled around to where it had first dropped her off. Troops were running every which way to get in their fore and aft positions of the thing.

    Just then, May ran past me, ¡°I must stop her Tendil! She''s a bargaining chip!¡±

    The pulley platform that had been lowering the Witch jerked to a halt as it touched ground and the Gnoll Queen disembarked angrily, taking great strides as she went straight for her carriage. At a full sprint, May couldn''t keep up.

    She called out to Mag''stula ¡°Your Majesty! Whatever is wrong, allow me to fix it!¡±

    The Witch came to an abrupt halt and turned to  May. I feared she would attack. Rather she was in May''s face, barking down at her ¡°You''ve lots of little birds about your Palace, Your Majesty, and little birds sing songs about things they''ve heard ¡ª sometimes disturbing things, sometimes hurtful things! I''m needed back in Yis-Gl¨¢z at any rate! I grow weary of this delicate environment!¡±

    May seemed genuinely distraught at this turn of events. ¡°But won''t you stay to bid on the concession, Your Majesty?¡± She pleaded.

    Imperiously, Mag''stula sneered ¡°I''m capable of communication over distance, Queen. Perhaps you''ve heard I know a trick or two!¡±

    With that, the Gnoll swirled her cloak about herself, turning for her carriage. Over her shoulder, she called, ¡°Try to remember, Dear, nothing lasts forever, and some things fade quicker than others. Oh, and I''m not talking about Mister Bascombe though the sentiment is appropriate!¡±

    May blushed visibly and there were murmurs all about the crowd that had gathered to watch the show. I could only look at my feet. Red-faced, I rushed off to my rooms for sanctuary.

    I would imagine the rumors had reached most ears and tongues in the kingdom, but, for this audience, to see it nearly confirmed set ablaze the  piles of collected speculation. Damn these circumstances! We had just had a beautiful day together and to end like this.

    Back at my rooms, there was a fresh guard taking their places for their four-hour watch. They honestly looked like children, fresh and uneasy, but resolute. I found it a bit unnerving. In my sitting room, I found ?rdelon there on my couch, head back and eyes closed, his mouth wide open with wheezing breaths coming in and going out.

    ¡°I thought you didn''t sleep? Elves?¡±

    I startled him badly and he bit his tongue, wincing, as he jerked upright.

    ¡°That''s a fact, Mister Bascombe. Just meditating heavily. I''ve not had any time for rest with all of the experiments.¡±

    I called out to the valet ¡°Telest, a cof¡­¡± Looking to ?rdelon, I asked, ¡°Coffee or tea, Sir?¡±

    ¡°Tea, please. I''ve had enough coffee to float an armada.¡± he replied.

    ¡°Tea it is. Telest, tea service for two with some of those walnut biscuits, thank you.¡±

    As the boy sped off, I couldn''t help but think how close he seemed to be to the age of my guard.

    Sitting on the couch next to ?rdelon, I asked ¡°Why the visit, Sir. Have you not seen enough of me yet?¡±

    Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

    He came back with a half-hearted sigh, asking ¡°Bascombe, if you had a child who went bad, do you ever think you''d see them as beyond repair or redemption?¡±

    That was a very serious question and one to which I had no adequate answer. What a position for him to be in. The experiments he was conducting with the amber were meant to be used to defeat his daughter. With all the additional stress and his memories of warfare, I wouldn''t swap places with ?rdelon for the world.

    I replied best I could, ¡°I''m not really one to answer that, Sir. Me being a bachelor and single. The best I can do is to try to relate it to the cats I feed back home, my strays. You''ll forgive me, I know that''s not an appropriate comparison, but it''s all I''ve got.¡±

    I looked into his face, engaging his eyes, trying to just help if I could. ¡°Well, my little troop of felines is very loving. They enjoy being petted and brushed. They bump their heads on my legs, their sign of affection, you see. Terribly sweet things. But every once in a while, you might be petting them as you''ve done dozens of times before, and they''ll just bite you. Hard. For seemingly no reason whatsoever. Of course, my first instinct is to hit them. But I don''t. I don''t think they realize what they''ve done. I certainly don''t think it''s malicious. I''ll likely never know. But I still love them, and I''ll keep feeding them and petting them. They''re not around for a terribly long time, and they deserve to be happy.¡±

    I stopped and stared at the floor. I''m an idiot. ¡°I''m sorry, Mister ?rdelon, I know that story wasn''t the best for the situation. What I meant by it is yes, I do know unconditional love. It''s just that it''s for a bunch of furry demons rather than a daughter. I think I would not give up on her, hate her as I do, if she were my daughter.¡±

    ¡°I feel it''s my duty, Bascombe. With her mother out of the picture, who''s she to turn to? The thought of her, or anyone for that matter, being alone in this world just leaves my heart cold.¡±

    ¡°Whether or not I make it through this, Mister ?rdelon, I''ll be forever changed. I''ve been exposed to too much to go back. Soon I''ll have my first and perhaps last taste of combat. I''m terrified, but I feel alive.¡±

    ¡°The feeling is well known to me, Bascombe. But war is such a brutal thing. Once you realize how quickly and insignificantly life can be taken, your perspective on everything is forever altered.¡±

    ¡°Mister ?rdelon,¡± I faltered momentarily, my emotions roaring through me, ¡°my perspective is out there in that hallway. I''ve already had four soldiers die for me. And the ones out there now, the lieutenant, he looks the equivalent of a 14-year old Human boy. Just discovering the world and life.¡±

    He let out a subdued quiet laugh, ¡°That ¡®boy¡¯ is Meersha Every¨®n, the son of Field Marshal Every¨®n. He''ll be 75 next month, Mister Bascombe. There''s some more perspective.¡±

    Damned Elves and their longevity. I''ll never get used to it.

    ¡°You just hear of so many families losing their children in war,¡± I said. ¡°It saddens me that they''re forced to fight.¡±

    ?rdelon nearly snapped at me, ¡°And what should we do, Bascombe? Let them have the city, the forest, our lives?¡± His face reddened.

    ¡°This is our very existence on the line, Sir! For 9,000 years we''ve made this our home! Should we abandon it? Go out quietly, without a fight? You truly do, Sir, have a hard time bridling your sanctimony!¡±

    He was fuming, and I let him speak.

    ¡°We''ve outlived dozens of entire Human civilizations! What we''ve accomplished here will never be matched, Bascombe, never! And you bemoan the possible loss of some younger soldiers? We may all be lost, Sir! Including you! Do not grieve for these young Elves who have taken up sword to save us! No! Rather encourage them and thank them for risking all to save all!¡±

    He sat back on the couch, catching his breath and taking some tea.

    ¡°I''m sorry, Mister Bascombe, my passions are very high and I''m very tired. It''s all too much for me, I fear.¡±

    Sighing, ?rdelon put his hand on my knee, ¡°Lieutenant Hevisty¨®n¡¯s funeral is tomorrow, by the way. I knew you''d want to know. There''ll be a pyre at his family''s barrow in the Necropolis. A solemn but beautiful occasion. It will be held at six bells, at dusk. I can come get you before then if you''d like.¡±

    ¡°That sounds perfect, Mister ?rdelon. Elves wear black?¡±

    ¡°The followers of ¨¦lois do, meaning most of us. I''m sure that would be most suitable.¡±

    Rising from the couch, he said ¡°Thank you for your time, your ears and your words, Mister Bascombe. They helped more than you can imagine.¡±

    Taking one of the untouched biscuits, he winked at me and said ¡°For the walk back.¡±

    And he was gone and I was alone again. It was well past my afternoon nap time. Dinner would be in the dining hall at seven bells, giving me just enough time to get an hour''s rest before I needed to ready myself.

    ¡°Telest,¡± I yelled for the valet, ¡°If you please, come in and wake me at ten minutes before seven bells, and please lay me out something appropriate to wear.¡±

    ¡°Yes, My Lord.¡± He paused a moment. ¡°The Queen will be there, My Lord?¡±

    I didn''t like the feeling I was feeling. ¡°Why do you ask?¡±

    ¡°No reason,¡± was his response as he giggled his way out the door.

    I bristled at that, but what could I do now? Everyone here knew everything about everybody. There were no secrets. Not for long, at least.

    I needed to resign myself to the fact that it was out of my control. I only hoped it didn''t cause problems for May. For now, the pillow called. I could escape all the madness for one hour.

    Dinner was quiet, May distant to me. Without the Gnolls and Swalesians, the room actually seemed more tense. I think everyone there realized the impact of their respective exits. They had gone to their homes to ready for war. It seemed more and more inevitable by the moment.

    After supper, I retired to my rooms, May seeming to avoid me purposely. Then there came a rap on the door.

    ¡°Come!¡± I beckoned. Who could this be?

    Telest stuck his head in the door, ¡°I''ve a message for you, Sir. From the Queen,¡± he added, stifling an unstiflable smirk.

    He handed me a small parchment envelope sealed with sealing wax bearing her crest, and ran out the door giggling like he''d discovered the world''s greatest secret. It was becoming obvious that the rumor mill of this kingdom was largely driven by these snooping little valets.

    I pulled out my Gem of Pure Sight and looked at the envelope. It was apparent that the wax seal had been broken and resealed meticulously to avoid detection. Masterful work. It was time to have a talk with the Queen about her crew of valets. They were a villainous gang of scoundrels!

    I carefully rebroke the seal and opened the envelope to find a neatly folded sheet of parchment covered in an elegant script.

    My Dearest Tendil,

    You have my most sincere apologies for my manner this evening. I''m so distracted and so distraught. Awaiting news on the enemy wears me down mentally. And then, there''s you, filling my head with thoughts simultaneously warm and anxious. What a horrid time to fall in love! Yes, I said it Tendil ¡ª in love! But it can''t be common knowledge, not yet. My people need me now more than ever and require my undivided attention. Perhaps I can make some time tomorrow. Your lips pervade my thoughts, Darling.

    Until I next taste them,

    May

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 25: March of the Gnolls

    The bells woke me the next morning: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, I started to rise, how had I slept so late?

    Then eight, nine ¡­ It stopped there. How in the world had I slept to nine bells? I called for a valet and got no response. Peeking my head out into the hallway I did find my guard, though Lieutenant Every¨®n wasn''t with them. The ranking soldier was a sergeant who looked to be roughly middle aged for a human.

    ¡°Good morning Sergeant,¡± I said politely. The Elf snapped to rigid attention and said simply ¡°Sir!¡± clicking his heels and shouldering his halberd.

    ¡°At ease, Sergeant¡­ what''s the name, Sir?¡± He was not at ease.

    ¡°Villoiy¨®n, Sir, Sergeant Villoiy¨®n!¡± he barked.

    ¡°Very well, Sergeant Villoiy¨®n, what goes on? Why was I allowed to sleep so late? Where are the valets?¡±

    ¡°Sir,¡± again barking, ¡°there''s been word of troop movements from the North, South, and West. There is much activity around the Queen this morning. Perhaps they forgot to wake you!¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± I said, ¡°Nothing like waking up and feeling unneeded.¡±

    ¡°Sir, yes Sir!¡± he snapped.

    ¡°Will you, if you please, Sergeant, have one of your men gather a valet for me? I''ll be in my rooms, dressing.¡±

    Sir, yes Sir!¡± he snapped again, indicating a young soldier who went off in search of a younger valet. I¡¯d never felt so old, and just twenty-eight. It was hilarious that most of these valets were older than me!

    After last night''s lecture from ?rdelon, my mind was racing. I had studied much Human history in my college years and I still read much. The stories of the ends of Human civilizations, falling to their enemies, in their last days. It was rarely peaceful. No. It was brutal and savage. Them being subjected to unspeakable horrors and the depravity of invading armies, their leaders giving them license to rape, loot, and pillage. Summary executions and lawlessness. Chaos of that sort is my greatest fear. And it doesn''t help to know the extremes of which your fellow man is capable. Dark thoughts.

    Telest finally came around. ¡°Good morning, good Telest, Sir!¡±

    ¡°Good morning, My Lord.¡±

    ¡°I know you''ve much on your mind, Sir. I just require some coffee and scones, if you please. I won''t tax you today.¡±

    He looked up at me with a meek smile, ¡°Thank you, My Lord. We''ve been up most of the night, we valets and everyone else.¡±

    ¡°Do me a favor, Telest,¡± I implored him, ¡°if there''s news of this sort in the future, please come and wake me.¡±

    ¡°Yes, My Lord. It''s just that the Queen ordered me to let you get your rest.¡±

    ¡°Ah, well you''re certainly absolved then,¡± I told him, putting my hand on his shoulder. ¡°Always obey Her Majesty. You''re a good lad. Now off with you.¡±

    He scampered off down the corridor to secure my breakfast and I made my toilet and dressed.

    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

    It didn''t take long to find where everybody was. The ¡°War Room,¡± had obviously outgrown the confines of Queen May''s rooms and was now a large table in the middle of the dining hall. As I entered, not a head turned, not an eye lifted in my direction. The place was abuzz with activity, everyone focused on one map or another. But what really caught my attention was a group of men in dark gray robes gathered about a large crystal ball on the far end of the table.

    The ball was full of fog and swirling images, some vague, most of them as clear as if they were physically in the room. These men were Wizards and they were employing a method of reconnaissance known as scrying, looking across distances to see what''s going on in faraway places. It was incredible to see. And that''s where I found the Queen, Pelisir, Mestil, Fanrist, Mal''friq, and ?rdelon with whom I assumed to be Field Marshal Every¨®n. They were watching a scene from the Northern Mountains, in the foothills, snow-capped peaks on the horizon. It was the army of Spotted Gnolls, 150,000 strong, meaning they had pulled the troops from their forts on the Eastern terminus of the Trade Roa that spanned the Waste.

    This was a concerning development. It meant they had left those forts vulnerable to any with the desire to take them. That meant they''d be in the hands of Human bedouins within a week. It meant they were all in on taking the Taliswood, at whatever the cost.

    May saw me watching and silently waved me over, putting a finger to her lips as I approached. As I watched the scene unfold, I could see that there were numerous skirmishers attacking the Gnoll ranks. Horse bowmen, Sun Elves, I assumed, in chainmail and gleaming silver helmets, red tabards and flags. The horses were white with black stockings, beautiful creatures.

    Wave after wave of horse archers attacked, withdrew, reloaded, attacked and so on. The Gnolls in formation had made a moving shield wall on their left flank, and it was proving to be fairly effective. I''d see one fall here and there, but to no great effect.

    After several minutes of this, the Sun Elves withdrew, readying for their next move.

    The Field Marshal spoke. ¡°They''re five days out Your Majesty, My Lord,¡± he said addressing May and Pelisir. ¡°Then another two to three days constructing siege machinery. So, a week from today barring some miracle.¡±

    ¡°Neither the mercenaries to the West, nor the Khan''s forces have moved overnight though there does seem to be some activity in the Swalesian camp now. There is a staging area to the south of their army for supply wagons and reserves. They appear to be coming up to join the rest of the host. Not rushing at all. They''re very certain of this outcome.¡±

    Two rather well-dressed but travel weary Elves came in fascinated by the hubbub, addressing the Queen.

    ¡°Your Majesty , we''ve returned with news.¡±

    I found out later that these two were emissaries sent out to try to find support from other Elves around the continent. Safter and Plogue were their names, career diplomats.

    The Queen was obviously eager to hear their news . ¡°Safter,¡± she said, ¡°how went talks with Queen Extril?¡±

    Safter had his hair slicked back along his receding hairline, his bones angular and visible in his cheeks, long claw-like fingers moving in rhythm with his speech. From his broad smile, the news had to be good. ¡°The Queen sends her warmest regards, Your Majesty, and says you will have her full support. They have cave exits just to the north of Nez Ambr¨ªl and west of Nez Clar?. Wherever they are needed, they''ll be able to take our enemy from the rear. Be it Gnoll or mercenary. They need a week to prepare, then they can offer 30,000 archers and light infantry. Of course they''d prefer to attack at night if possible.¡±

    I had never met a Deep Elf. They live far beneath the surface of the continent along the shores of a huge underground sea. An amazing culture I''m told. Their skin as white as snow, white hair, eyes that are completely black. Their Queen, Extril, had been in power more than 500 years. On the surface, the Deep Elves are known for jewelry and metalwork of the highest quality. I wasn''t aware of any reputation they might have for martial prowess, but I''d also yet to meet an Elven warrior who wasn''t a match for any other in the land.

    ¡°That''s incredibly good work on your part, Safter. They can be terribly isolationist when the mood strikes.¡±

    Bowing deeply, the man replied, ¡°Thank you, Your Majesty, but they''re helping because of you, not me. They genuinely love and miss you. They''ll likely send dignitaries soon to firm things up. And they''ll be wanting amber of course, the ¨¦l¨ªks, not the included amber.¡±

    ¡°You just told me it was because they liked me, Mister Safter.¡± She looked genuinely dejected though I knew she was jesting.

    ¡°Mister Plogue?¡± she asked. Plogue was heavyset for an Elf. On the short side, he was pushing two hundred pounds give or take a lunch or three. His silver hair just a little too long and slicked down so that it curled up a little in the back. He didn''t look like he''d ever frowned. But now, his face took on a serious cast.

    ¡°Not so well with the Wild Elves, Your Majesty. You know they rarely come out of the jungles down there. Mother Criksta would commit to nothing.¡±

    The Wild Elves led by the ancient Mother Christa, are primitives and the story of how that came to be is lost to time. They keep no written records and don''t even have a system of letters. They sing their history every night around the campfire, and it''s necessarily abbreviated. Their jungle home is to the south of Swalesian lands on the North Coast of that khanate¡¯s Southern Sea. The Swalesians rape the resources of those jungles mercilessly, and the Wild Elves are too heavily outnumbered to retaliate. But now?

    ¡°I didn''t give up on my mission, Your Majesty. I got stinking drunk with Mother Criksta and showed her the benefits of the situation. With the vast majority of the Swalesian military in and around Imsk¨ªli, her day of retribution had finally come. Her big toothless smile would have warmed your heart, Your Majesty!¡±

    ¡°Well at least there''s that. Maybe some troops will have to be pulled off our front to account for it. You did what you could, Mister Plogue, thank you. Thank you both.¡±

    May moved to the front of the room and clapped to get everyone''s attention. ¡°We''ve had a busy night and morning as you all know. I want you all to go now, get some food, bathe, take a nap. It''s eleven bells. I''ll expect you all back here at one bell. Now, go!¡±

    As I turned, she said ¡°Not you Mister Bascombe. To my rooms.¡±

    Sweet heavens, the way her body moved under those robes!

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 26: Love in Wartime

    As soon as the door closed behind us, she had my face in her hands, kissing me passionately and I did nothing to stop her, loving every moment of it. Soft, yet aggressive, her mouth caused the world about me to swirl, my mind to empty. Then she broke away and it all came rushing back in. I still held her and my eyes were still closed.

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± she said, laughing, knowing what she had done and its impact.

    ¡°Dear gods, yes!¡± I managed to get out, my heart still racing

    ¡°I just wanted to give you all I''ve got for now. We will need to put a damper on things until this crisis is over. Count Pelisir gave me a good scolding this morning, and he''s right. Everyone needs to see me focused on their safety, not indulging myself.¡±

    ¡°Your words sting, My Love. I won''t lie and say I''m happy about it. But I do understand. We all need a leader right now, and you wear the crown.¡±

    I held her to me in a strong embrace. I wasn''t mad at her, but I was mad at the circumstances.

    I must be truthful, at 28, I''ve never felt this way about a woman. Ever. I''m sure it''s love. It feels good. It hurts. It''s overwhelming. I needed to just snap out of it, there was work to be done.

    She spoke to me in a whisper, ¡°I can see your consternation, Love. And I can see your understanding and acceptance as well. Your resignation.¡±

    ¡°Do you see me as a flower, May? A temporary thing to be thrown away when its brief life fades?¡±

    She smiled, ¡°You''re letting Pelisir get to you, Darling. He uses that same tired metaphor every time he sees me smile at a Human. He just wants me for his own, Tendil. He''s jealous. Did he also tell you he''s married to his job?¡±

    I smiled back, ¡°Yes, he did. He plays the martyr¡¯s role well. Too well. Surely a Gatekeeper Paladin should be above that sort of drama.¡±

    ¡°I''m a bit more forgiving, Tendil. He doesn''t just have a crush. He truly loves me. We''ve been a part of each other''s lives for over five hundred years. We know one another front to back. I think you have a hard time even imagining that amount of time, My Love.¡±

    ¡°He seemed to understand his place when he and I talked, May. I won''t worry about the Count. I believe we are on good terms. As for the rest, there''s nothing for it. We can''t carry on like teenagers while the world comes down around us. We must be more responsible than that.¡±

    A tear ran down her cheek. It would be okay. We both understood our places in all of this.

    Abruptly changing the subject, May asked ¡°What of your father and Cralix? Have you any news?¡±

    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

    I hadn''t, and that was concerning. ¡°No, My Love. Not a thing. While we still have some time, I may have ?rdelon send me to Sandlise, see what I can find out on my own.¡±

    ¡°If you think it would be fruitful, Dear, it can be arranged. But ?rdelon is putting great effort into skrying for us right now. Perhaps he has more scrolls. We''ve been away long enough, Tendil. Let''s go down and talk to ?rdelon.¡±

    She said my name as I turned to go back to the war room, ¡°Yes, My Heart?¡±

    She looked down at her feet, suddenly bashful, ¡°I love you, Tendil.¡±

    ¡°I love you too, May.¡± I said with a lump in my throat. ¡°Thank you for saying it. It means the world to me.¡±

    Still looking at her feet, she said, sounding like she was tearing up, ¡°I''m not so special, Tendil. I don''t want you to set your expectations too high only to be disappointed.¡±

    I shouldn''t have, but I laughed at that and she gave me a terribly cross glare. I responded quickly ¡°No, not so special. Actually you remind me of several beautiful, bright, warrior queens I used to dance with at the balls back home. As if I''d settle for common.¡±

    ¡°Let''s go,¡± she said as she slapped my upper arm with surprising force, smiling and blotting her eyes on the tails of my tunic.

    All of the Queen''s planners, advisors, and servants were slowly filtering back into the dining hall when we returned. Pelisir, of course, shooting me a wilting glance, and there, Telest with his staring eyes and grinning like the Village Idiot.

    ¡°May,¡± I said, you should send these valets to get some real sleep; they''ve been up the whole night and they look like they''re about to drop.¡±

    ¡°Oh, dear,¡± she said anxiously, ¡°I forget they''re but children! You''re right, Mister Bascombe, of course.

    Calling to one of the attending butlers, she had him round up and dismiss the valets. Two of them looked just short of falling asleep walking.

    Gathering back around the crystal ball and maps, Pelisir told us, ¡°The mercenaries move, Your Majesty.  Heading due east toward Nez Clar?.¡±

    May scanned the room quickly and called loudly ¡°Mister Safter, get word to the Deep Elves immediately. Tell them that the clock has started.¡±

    Bowing, he said ¡°Yes, Your Majesty,¡± and he was off.

    Looking over the maps carefully, May asked ¡°What of the Swalesians? Do they move yet?¡±

    Field Marshal Every¨®n took this question. ¡°No, Your Majesty, they do not. But that includes activity in their staging areas and around their barges. That means they''re ready to go as soon as the command is given.¡±

    ¡°Mister Plogue,¡± she addressed the other emissary, "what do you say on the Hobgoblins?¡±

    He was momentarily vexed by the question. ¡°Well, Your Majesty, they are not the same as what came at us under the Black Banner. I mean they''re still the Red Fang. But it''s as if their gods have tamed them. They''re still nomads, some of them, and they are still fierce warriors, but they''ve begun to plant crops and build settlements rather than war camps.¡±

    ¡°Well, Mister Plogue,¡± she said, serious as she could be, ¡°here''s a chance to test your skills.¡±

    Plogue looked aghast. ¡°But, Your Maj ¡­¡± he began, only to be cut off.

    ¡°How many are in the fens, Field Marshal Every¨®n? Warriors I mean.¡±

    ¡°Well, My Queen, they''re all warriors. And I would say roughly 50,000 of them.¡±

    Thinking to herself for a moment, ¡°And wouldn''t you say, Field Marshal, that the Swalesians are as much a threat to the Hobgoblins as they are to us?¡±

    ¡°Certainly, Your Majesty. The Swalesians will look to kill or enslave every one of us, regardless of species.¡±

    She turned to the emissary, ¡°Mister Plogue, you are to negotiate a peace with the Hobgoblins. They can keep the fens and dry land within ten miles of them. They can also have a two-percent gross share of the amber concession, excluding the included stones.¡±

    Plogue had been scribbling frantically into a small journal.

    ¡°For their part, Mister Plogue, they need to get out of the way of the Swalesians, allow them to pass, then fold in behind them as they enter the woods. They should skirmish, harass, and do what they can to disrupt the building of siege machinery. Is that clear?¡±

    Finishing his writing, he said ¡°Yes, Your Majesty; I''ll do the best that I can. Their tongue I fear has not been spoken by me in several years, but I believe their grasp of the Common Tongue to be better than the Swalesians. I''ll get it done, My Queen.¡±

    ¡°Very well, Mister Plogue; tell them we can revisit the agreement in five year''s time and make any amendments if necessary. Now be off.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty,¡± he said bustling off. You could see how proud he was to be trusted with so dangerous and complicated a mission.

    May addressed everyone standing about the table. ¡°Well, all the pieces move now, gentlemen. All there is for us to do is to monitor them and ready ourselves for siege. Now, Mister Bascombe and I have a funeral to attend.¡±

    I looked at her, questioningly, surprised, but she merely smiled back and bade me to accompany her.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 27: In the City of the Dead

    I knew nothing about Elven funeral rites. There was a giant necropolis about a mile from town, full of graves, crypts, and barrows. The whole thing was tended by yet another subspecies, the Barrow Elves, and their monarch, Carca, the White Queen. Strange to have a monarch for such a small population, only 10,000, and that included the necropolises outside Nez Clar? and Iln¨ªst.

    The Barrow Elves look much like the Deep Elves, snow white skin and hair, thin, but their eyes were white with a mere dot of a pupil to break up that color. To call them eerie, gruesome, creepy would not be diplomatic, neither would it do them justice. They were like revenants.

    May took me down a row of barrows, all with stone entrances, Elvish runes chiseled on every exposed bit of granite.

    She took my hand in hers while no eyes were on us and we walked like that for a few moments, just acting like normal lovers.

    ¡°Do they scare you, Tendil? I know they can be unsettling at first.¡±

    ¡°Yes. I won''t lie, May. They''re so ghost-like. I don''t like thinking about the supernatural, it''s always frightened me.¡±

    ¡°Their story is rather unique, Dear. The first of them were mourners who couldn''t bear to leave their kin here alone. Over time, more stayed. They come into town every morning to beg for food and coin. The Church helps them as well. You know, Elves have a peculiar ability to adapt to their environment if they''re there for long enough. In two generations, you have a whole new subspecies. It''s really quite beautiful, the different varieties of my people.¡±

    ¡°Before this trip, I had only encountered Moon Elves and High Elves. Both come into Wikehold for trade. Oh, well, I guess I had met one Gray Elf, Margrin. The Moon Elves though with their lavender skin have been my favorites. No offense.¡±

    ¡°Now Love,¡± she said, ¡°how could I be offended that you prefer others to me? And I get it, I also think Moon Elf men are far more attractive than Humans.¡±

    ¡°Now see here, May!¡±

    She was giggling and I saw that I had been set up. It was good that she had a chance to laugh. Things were getting more and more serious by the hour.

    We heard six bells as we arrived at the Hevisty¨®n family crypt. The widow,  the Lieutenant¡¯s family, and hers were standing around the body, laid on a bier, covered with a sheet of white linen, surrounded by kindling. Clarest was the widow''s name, I remembered. I went over to her and gave my condolences for what they were worth. There was a lot of murmuring, the Queen''s presence being a tremendous surprise. A Priest of ¨¦lois said much in Elvish over the body. Unexpectedly, May asked if she could say a few words. ¡°Yes , Your Majesty, of course!¡± squeaked from his mouth as he walked away backwards, bowing the whole time.

    I''ll paraphrase her eulogy. She mentioned what a pleasant and happy young man he was, how he often had guard duty outside her chambers. Courteous, chivalrous, she had planned on making him a Captain in a matter of a few weeks. She was lightly crying throughout. What brought everyone to tears were her closing lines. How he had shown her a locket he wore with a miniature painting of Clarest in it with a lock of her hair. May said she had never in her life met a man so proud of his wife. Then she said a rather lengthy prayer in Elvish.

    When she was done, all of the mourners walked around the bier, placing little bits of folded parchment prayers on the body. The Priest then doused the body with oil, took a torch, and set it ablaze.

    Before we left, May said she had to pay a visit to the White Queen. A matter of protocol that couldn''t be avoided.

    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

    Carca''s throne room was in an abandoned crypt ¡ª a sizable one. We were announced and a Royal Guard ran up to get on either side of a narrow carpet, crossing glaives to make an archway through which we were to pass. Then I really looked at the Guard. These things were animated skeletons armored and ready for battle or ceremony.

    May was smiling, I noted out of the corner of my eye. She whispered, I''m sorry, Love. I forgot to mention that the White Queen is the most powerful Necromancer in all of Tellia.¡±

    I whispered back, ¡°It''s quite alright my Darling. Despite my longevity, I''ve a long memory.¡±

    As we neared the throne, what they call the Mortal Throne, intricately carved from alabaster, the White Queen held up her hand for us to stop. I did and bowed, then she spoke.

    ¡°It''s good to see you, Darling May. Your visits are far too infrequent.¡±

    ¡°I could say the same Carca. When is the last time you graced the Silver Gate? We see your subjects daily begging on our streets. You know, of course, that there have been troubles recently.¡±

    ¡°I know of them, May. I was under the impression that they were being peaceful until your soldiers began beating them.¡±

    ¡°They were actively resisting, Carca; you know how that Elf is that leads them, Milost Phaerony¨®n, he tries to create trouble. He''s the Captain of your militia. I know you can get a better grip on his behavior.¡±

    Allow me to explain a bit here. The Barrow Elves have a philosophy that their very existence makes them responsible to carry the weight of a community''s grief and sorrow. By flagellating themselves in the streets of the cities, they exorcise the pain so we never have to feel it. In theory.

    Many Elves have no issues with the Barrow Elves. They see them as a necessary aspect of life. But the shop owners and city leaders see them as a hindrance to commerce and an eyesore. There was recently a conflict when the constabulary came to order the leader, Milost Phaerony¨®n to move along and he resisted. He ended up, ironically, being flogged publicly, a punishment to which the Gray Elves rarely resort.

    The flagellants were ordered out of Nez Ambr¨ªl, not to return to beg, and flagellation was made illegal. Now, there is an uneasy peace with the Church providing for the Barrow Elves who don''t work, don''t raise crops, manufacture anything, educate their children ¡ª they mourn.

    Oh, they do make little fetishes that they carve from coffin wood and sell to mourners from the city for a few coppers, but that''s the extent of their industry.

    The Church has insisted on being allowed to teach the children of the barrows reading, writing, and basic mathematics, in exchange for food. Believe it or not, there has been resistance to this from the Barrow Elf parents. They have a ridiculous belief that children are ¡°sky taught,¡± that the environment and spirits give children all of the education they''ll ever need. They''re really very primitive, and it''s confounding, living as they do in the shadow of the most advanced civilization in our world.

    Carca said, ¡°Milost is his own Elf, May. You know he feels he should get some leeway for what he did during the Siege of the Black Banner, never having been properly, publicly recognized.¡±

    Back then, Milost was a Barrow Warden, a highly trained Ranger specializing in stealth and infiltration tactics. He single-handedly took out several batteries of hobgoblin trebuchets with skill and magical fire. All of the Barrow Elves know of the deed, few Elves in the city do.

    ¡°Perhaps we can remedy that, Carca. We could create a medal for him, give him a handsome reward in gold. Name something after him. I''m amenable to all that.¡±

    May seemed genuinely contrite, knowing the Elf''s heroism and at what cost. He was an anonymous beggar on the streets of Nez Ambr¨ªl. And he was flogged as a common criminal.

    Carca considered for a moment, then said ¡°We can revisit the issue after we''ve dealt with these most recent aggressors. You know we will come to your aid anyway, but a share of the amber concession would be appropriate recompense I should think.¡±

    May didn''t need to think about it. ¡°You''re right, of course Carca. Amber, a medal for Milost, anything else?¡±

    ¡°Now that you mention it, May, a park for us near the town center, lift the ban, rescind the laws, allow us to mourn as we''ve done for centuries.¡±

    May was in full agreement except for one issue. ¡°There''s one condition, Carca. You let us educate those children. That''s non-negotiable. Adults can take part as well if they wish. It''s never too late to learn.¡±

    ¡°It will be a hard sell on my part, May. You don''t know how dug in these people are. Tradition is everything. But it will be done. So, we can provide 1,000 light cavalry and 1,000 light infantry. I know it''s not much, but the other necropolises will send more. Maybe we''ll get it up to 5,000.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Carca. You know anything you can do is well-appreciated. This will be the greatest Elven army ever assembled; do you realize that? We don''t have the final numbers, but it will be close to 250,000 strong and fighting from a well-defended position. It''s a beautiful thing, Carca.¡±

    Carca was unimpressed. ¡°I care more about survival than how many come to the family reunion,¡± she said dryly. ¡°Certainly, it''s optimal if we can all get along and cooperate. I''m not dismissing your vision, May. I''m just keeping things in perspective.¡±

    May laughed, ¡°Shrewd as always, Carca! Please, come by the Palace this week for lunch or dinner or tea, whichever you want, and we''ll have a nice visit.¡±

    ¡°Speaking of food,¡± I said to May as we were leaving, ¡°let''s have a good meal. Something to put me to sleep.¡±

    She looked sad, ¡°I don''t think so, Tendil. We''ve been together all day and I don''t see any sense in rubbing it in people''s faces. Just know that I''m happy. In the middle of all of this, I''m happy.¡±

    I was briefly unhappy, but then reminded myself to maintain perspective. Me too, My Darling. Happier than I''ve ever been. Oh, and tomorrow we need to discuss my trip to the Coast with ?rdelon. I was thinking it might not be a bad idea to take Margrin with me. Take advantage of his connections.¡±

    ¡°Yes, love. That''s a sound plan. Come to the war room in the morning and we''ll discuss it. I''ll have ?rdelon and Margrin there and ready. Pack a satchel, okay?¡±

    ¡°Yes, beloved. Get some rest and I''ll see you in the morning. Good night, Dearest.¡±

 Volume 1, Chapter 28: Clarity in the Sun

    The bell tower woke me at precisely six bells, and I had a valet, a new lad, run to the kitchen to get me some fruit, soft boiled eggs, muffins, and coffee. I was up early enough I would go down to the baths before meeting with May and the others. I had time enough to savor my breakfast as well.

    The baths were open and blissfully unoccupied. My head resting on the concrete rim of a tub, I did fall asleep briefly. I toweled off, rubbed myself down with some lavender And put on a nice set of traveling clothes.

    I had decided to match Margrin¡¯s style as closely as possible so that we would look like just a couple of wealthy bravos on vacation with time and money to spare. I guess that guise wasn''t far from the truth but that we didn''t have time to spare and this wasn''t a vacation.

    When I entered the war room, the three, May, Margrin, and ?rdelon were scrying at the far end of the center table. Morning light was filtering through the tree canopy of the magnificent redwoods and into the stuffy dining hall, bits of dust floating through its rays as if they had a destination.

    May saw me and waved me over, ¡°Good morning, Mister Bascombe. Did you sleep well?¡±

    ¡°Like a stone, Your Majesty. And I''ve just had a lovely breakfast and bath.¡±

    ¡°Excellent, Good Sir. You''ve got a busy day ahead, you and Mister Ephisiery¨®n. I envy your destination, but not your purpose. It''s a grim mission you''re on, Mister Bascombe.¡±

    ¡°It couldn''t be worse than what I already suspect, Your Majesty. Evil has infected my father and I fear there''s naught I can do to save him.¡±

    ¡°No,¡± Margrin said, ¡°Never give up on family that easily, Bascombe. He may be redeemable yet. As powerful as she may be, Cralix¡¯s power is largely untested. She may not have the stomach for a battle.¡±

    ¡°Thank you for the encouraging words, My Friend. What goes on in the crystal ball?¡±

    May answered, her voice at a much lower volume than yesterday, ¡°The great Swalesian army finally stirs. They move north. Troops and barges. Quite the juggernaut, isn''t it?¡±

    ¡°Yes,¡± I answered, ¡°yes it is. The test for them is whether or not the troops will obey commands if things get serious, isn''t that right?¡±

    May let out a cynical laugh, ¡°Hah! So we thought. These are not slave troops, Mister Bascombe. Many of these units are their Heksa Kral, heavy infantry shock troops. They''re elite. And they''ll make sure the other men around them don''t break for fear of death.¡±

    She looked suddenly defeated. Just for a fleeting moment. We badly needed some good news on our side.

    ¡°Is there any encouraging news?¡± I asked her.

    ¡°Actually, Mister Bascombe, there is. We''ve been trying to put together a strong magic-user presence, and those numbers are starting to come in. The magical arts will be as well-represented as the martial arts. We''ve Sorcerers and Bards from the Moon Elves, a whole company. Wizards from the Sea Elves, Deep Elves, and Cloud Elves, Warlocks from the Barrow Elves, a company of Druids from the Wood Elves and Sun Elves, and a host of Clerics from healers to warriors. Our own Gray Elf Wizards are formidable foes in their own right, and we still don''t know the extent of ?rdelon''s research with the inclusions, do we, ?rdelon?¡±

    ?rdelon responded ¡°I''m very close on a few things, Your Majesty. If I have enough time.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± she said, ¡°We''ve had you down here scrying, haven''t we? Starting now, you are to delegate better, my Wizard. A lesser mage can employ a crystal ball.¡±

    She said this as she was watching the thing like a hawk watching a hare. ¡°Have you four Scrolls of Teleportation, ?rdelon?¡± He nodded. ¡°Give them to these gentlemen, Misters Bascombe and Ephisiery¨®n. They''ve important duties away from here.¡±

    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty,¡± he replied, and turned heel for his workroom.

    That place was as stuffy and dusty as you could want. Books and scrolls stacked everywhere with no rhyme or reason, alchemist''s tools, potions, spell materials. But he went right for a small pile of scrolls in a dark corner and handed them to us.

    ¡°Now, you two know how to use these, so no lectures from me. Just be careful.¡±

    Just then, something caught my eye as ?rdelon was rushing us back out of his private sanctum. A lock box on a shelf, the only point in the room being struck by direct sunlight. The thing''s lid wasn''t fully closed due to its fullness and my eye caught the deep golden shine of amber.

    I thought nothing of it. He wasn''t hoarding the stuff, it was surely for his experiments. Unless he was skimming. I hated to be suspicious of an Elf I counted as a friend, but this was a distraction we didn''t need.

    But that wasn''t a concern for today; it would have to wait. Good gods, his workspace was a cluttered mess. How could someone get anything done? As a great procrastinator, I laughed at my own hypocrisy. He''s probably one of those people who would be lost if it was all organized.

    Margrin and I stepped out onto one of the palace¡¯s upper verandas, read our scrolls, focusing mentally on our destination, and, in a heartbeat, we were on a beautiful, sunny balcony overlooking the city and port of Sandlise. Without the dense canopy  of the redwood forest of Taliswood, the sun was brighter, warmer, its intensity making me squint as I looked out over the Baric Ocean. The light chop on the water¡¯s surface sparkling like a casket of diamonds, sky blue around small disturbances of white froth.

    The balcony railing, some kind of beige limestone, was decorated with long planters overhanging the street below, full of marigolds, verbena, and lavender, the smell pungent and clean.

    I had never been here before. Why not? Why would I overlook this of all places? It was perfect. A hint of coolness in the ocean breeze, a cloudless sky of cornflower blue. Then all I could think was that I must bring May here for our honey month after we''re wed.

    Margrin''s voice brought me back to reality, ¡°When you''re done absorbing the natural beauty, we need to get into this city''s rotten underbelly to find my contacts. But only when you''re ready, Bascombe.¡±

    ¡°How rotten could anything be in a place such as this, Margrin?¡±

    He chuckled and said, ¡°Oh, you''ll soon see, Bascombe.¡± Shaking his head and laughing, he added, ¡°I keep forgetting how young you are. So very much to learn.¡±

    Walking down a spiral flight of concrete stairs, Margrin said with a hint of anxiety in his voice ¡°We need to secure an audience with Rathkin.¡±

    ¡°You say that name almost reverentially, Sir. Who is this Rathkin?¡±

    ¡°Not one of my mentors, they''re all long dead. But he''s the leader of the Sandlise Syndicate. They were the crime family that took me in, so I''m sort of a member by blood. Rathkin is very powerful as is the Syndicate here. They control much of what comes in and goes out of the port.¡±

    ¡°If they have that much power, who''s in charge here?¡±

    ¡°So many questions. Are you seeking political office?¡±

    ¡°No, Margrin, just getting a grasp on the hierarchy of the place. My father would associate with criminal and King alike, but he''s much more likely to be found at court. He''s got many expertises, but navigating the world of palace intrigue is truly his forte.¡±

    ¡°Well,¡± Margrin went on, ¡°Sandlise is a city state, not a kingdom. In fact, it''s a Duchy making up most of a piece of land called Emfirinia. All of it is under the control of Cairwahl, Duke of Sandlise and Margrave of Emfirinia. Does that satisfy your need for order?¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Margrin. Yes, it does give me a sense of where things stand. Tell me about Cairwahl.¡±

    ¡°I''m a History teacher now, Bascombe?¡±

    I understood his mood, growing tired of all the questions. I just needed to know.

    ¡°You''re officially indebted to me now, you curious little man! Okay, Cairwahl is a fifteen year old Human boy with his own harem if you can imagine. More corrupt than any adult and under the direct guidance of His Grace, Archbishop Maller, the Primate of Emfirinia, a snake in human form.

    ¡°The city is very large. As big as Wikehold if not bigger.¡±

    The closer we got to the docks, the more things began to take on a dirty patina, the people looking more poor and scruffy.

    We passed several pubs, prostitutes outside soliciting passers-by. As I was busy assessing the situation here, Margin said, ¡°Oh, and what''s this?¡±

    Three burly Human men, they appeared to be Swalesians, were standing before us, blocking our path. One had a short club, another a knife, the third seemed comfortable barehanded. I am six feet, two inches, and they were all taller than me and twice as broad.

    ¡°Might I help thee gentlemen,¡± Margrin asked pleasantly.

    ¡°Aye,¡± said the one with the knife, ¡°You can hand over those fat purses, your jewelry, and your rich folk costumes.¡±

    ¡°I knew we were overdressed, Bascombe. Now I just feel silly. Very well gentlemen. Hand over your purse, Bascombe, don''t you see the size of these fellows?¡±

    ¡°I most certainly will not, Margrin. This is an outrage! Where is the constabulary?¡±

    ¡°Likely with some of those nice ladies outside the bars back there. The friendly ones. I''m afraid we''re on our own here, Good Sir. So just hand it over and these fine robbers will let us pass.¡±

    The one with the knife said, ¡°Twasn''t part of the deal, My Fancy Chum. But we might. If we don''t have to kill you. I''m kind of leaning that way though.¡±

    I didn''t have time to say anything else. Margrin took his purse from his belt and dropped it on the stone road, coins jingling. I was doing the same as the one with the knife went to pick it up. Margrin kicked the man in the face so hard, several teeth clattered onto the ground and blood gushed down his face.

    The man with the club advanced on Margrin and the barehanded fellow on me. Drawing my rapier and swiping upward, I took at least two fingers from the hand of the man with the club, carrying through with the sweeping motion ending with the point of my blade pressing into the other''s neck enough to make blood flow freely.

    Gratuitously, Margrin kicked the knifeman in the face again, more teeth flying about and blood pouring from the man''s nose and mouth. It looked like he''d bitten the end of his tongue off.

    ¡°Now,¡± began Margrin, ¡°piss off! The three of you. We''re here to see Rathkin. Point to where he is and we won''t tell him about three naughty boys working robberies on his street.

    Mister bare hands pointed down the road to what looked like a small warehouse just before the docks.

    ¡°Very well, Sirs. Now, I hope we didn''t put a damper on your day. Enjoy this splendid weather!¡± And we continued down the street to the small warehouse with a sign hanging out front saying ¡°Dry Goods.¡±

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 29: The Rat King

    As we approached, a slit in the door opened to reveal a pair of eyes. ¡°Who are you?¡± Came the voice to go with the eyes.

    Margrin took the lead, ¡°I am Mister Margrin Ephisiery¨®n of the Taliswood, lung crixetis vidner, and this is Mister Tendil Bascombe, Esq. of Wikehold, no lung crixetis. Here to see Rathkin.¡±

    ¡°Very well gentlemen, stay where you are and I''ll check with the boss.¡±

    We heard his footclaps against bare wooden floor flashing down a hallway and I asked, ¡°What in gods¡¯ names is this business with the long crickets?¡±

    ¡°Oh, it''s the Thieves'' Cant. A secret language we use. It''s ancient, very hard to follow. But I just told him that I was Syndicate and you''re not. It''s okay for me to have a guest, so don''t worry.¡±

    ¡°On the contrary,¡± I said, ¡°I find it to be quite fascinating. I''ve heard about it all my life, all so clandestine. It can''t help but spark some curiosity. Especially for a child.¡±

    ¡°A little fledgling crime Lord, eh,?¡± he japed.

    ¡°Quite. I used to make up nonsense words and call it Thieves'' Cant playing in my rooms by myself. One of Father''s walking canes playing the role of my rapier.¡±

    ¡°And I daydreamed of being a wealthy brat with too much time on his hands! We should have traded. How happy we would be.¡±

    Footsteps coming back down the hallway took forever to reach the door. Then the sound of several bolts being undone, finally the creeeaak of the door opening. Surprisingly, it revealed a middle aged human with thick black hair, in full butler''s livery. Just a little out of place in an abandoned dockside warehouse.

    ¡°Welcome, Sirs, I am Laneston. Follow me, if you will. Rathkin has expressed delight that you''re here Mister Ephisiery¨®n. He said it''s been quite some time that you''ve been away.¡±

    ¡°Did he seem upset or mad, Laneston? I can''t handle an upset Rathkin right now.¡±

    ¡°He seemed fine, Sir. Oh, I should tell you, he''s begun to take in stray kittens. I don''t know that he''s ever been around one. But he''s terribly taken with them now. There are dozens. And one warning. If a kitten starts climbing up your leg with its claws, let it. He won''t abide anyone not letting them do what they want to do. One of the recent new crew members made the mistake of swatting one that bit him. Rathkin had him summarily drowned in the tub.¡±

    I couldn''t say anything, but the man sounded like a lunatic. If this was Margrin''s big connection, we might be in trouble.

    As advertised, there were kittens underfoot everywhere you stepped. Perhaps a hundred of them. Little plates of half-eaten fish were just as plentiful. I tried to give Margrin a let''s get out of her glance, but he wasn''t paying me any attention. Intent on navigating the feline maze.

    Finally, Laneston turned to us and said ¡°Right through the door at the end of the hallway, Gentlemen. And may I offer you a drink?¡±

    I answered, ¡°I believe tea would be perfect for us both, Laneston. Thank you.¡±

    Then we stood at the door, each waiting for the other to open it.

    After several seconds, I caved in and reached for the knob.

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Margrin''s hand caught mine just before I touched the thing. He stood there for another moment taking deep, exaggerated breaths, then took his hand off mine. ¡°Okay, Bascombe, let''s do what needs doing.¡±

    Entering a large storage room lined with empty shelves and spider webs, we were greeted by the unmistakable smell of cats. Lots of them. Everywhere you looked, there were kittens. Dozens of kittens. All the colors of the house cat rainbow: gingers, tuxedos, calicos, black, white, gray, torties, tabbies, all well represented. They were wrestling, sleeping, bathing, staring, climbing, running, eating, and crawling around on the lap of our guest. His portly figure, not giving them adequate room to nap.

    Rathkin was a huge man, taller than me, easily weighing 350 pounds or more, with large, beefy hands. I guessed him to be in his 50s, gray haired and with a duotoned beard with stripes of black in it. He had big blue eyes and a sinister countenance. A cruel looking man, the kittens on his shoulders and lap providing a jarring contrast.

    He sat in a beaten up wingback chair of mahogany and crimson damask, his legs crossed and his arms on the chairs armrests. Most notably, he wore an immaculate, high-collared jacket of gold brocade with white hose.

    ¡°Margrin!¡± His voice was thunderous. ¡°It''s been far too long! Have you no conscience?¡±

    ¡°I''m terribly sorry, Mister Rathkin. Business has kept me in the North, and it''s been good. I''ve many good men working under me now, but I''m still hesitant to let go of the reins for any length of time.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes, it''s very hard to find ones you can trust. Especially in our line of work.¡±

    Laneston reappeared with a silver salver and tea service, setting it down briefly to bring a small table and two mismatched chairs to the center of the room.

    ¡°If the gentlemen should require anything else, I shall be just outside the door.¡± and he withdrew with a short and sharp bow.

    ¡°That one is indispensable. Not only as a servant, but he oversees the troops as well.¡±

    ¡°You''ve always had a good eye for talent, Rathkin. It''s served you well.¡±

    ¡°And who is this, then? Your friend here, Margrin?¡±

    ¡°Rathkin, this is Tendil Bascombe of Wikehold. He''s the reason I''m here.¡±

    ¡°Wouldn''t have come otherwise, eh?¡± Rathkin''s face pinched with thought for a moment, ¡°Bascombe, Bascombe, ah yes, you must be Culver Bascombe¡¯s boy!¡±

    ¡°Indeed, I am, Sir. How do you know my father?¡±

    ¡°My boy, Culver Bascombe has gotten more than a few of my troops out of trouble. Including Margrin here; did he not tell you?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Sir, I knew of their acquaintance. I just wasn''t familiar with his activities here in the South.¡±

    ¡°He''s here now, Young Mister Bascombe. On holiday or something with a terribly pretty young lady.¡±

    ¡°In fact,¡± Margrin interjected, ¡°that''s the true purpose of our visit, Rathkin. We feel this ¡®young lady¡¯ as you call her, may be a danger to Tendil¡¯s father. She''s actually a very powerful Witch with a penchant for draining the wealth of her suitors. Cralix  is her name.¡±

    His face pinched again, ¡°Well, I''ve heard of her, of course. She''s quite infamous. Someone should have told me of her presence here. That''s a lapse in intelligence. The most important asset the Syndicate has is information. We''ve no room for this kind of sloppiness.¡±

    ¡°I wouldn''t blame anyone, Rathkin. She has ways of masking her presence. You wouldn''t happen to know where they''re staying would you, Sir?¡±

    ¡°Of course I would, if I wanted to know,¡± he laughed.

    ¡°Sincerely, Rathkin, we need to ask your help in finding him, finding out who he''s associating with down here, and what is currently motivating him. He''s acting very out of character.¡±

    ¡°Out of character for Culver Bascombe?¡± he laughed again. ¡°It must be something quite scandalous!¡±

    I had to ask, ¡°What do you mean, Sir? What is my father''s reputation in Sandlise?¡±

    ¡°I find it extraordinary that he''s been able to keep it hidden for so long. He really has been living two lives. Son, your father is a philanderer, a gambler, an embezzler, an all around charlatan. Even his career as an advocate relied heavily on him bribing judges and jurors. Nothing about that man is above board. I hate to have to be the one to tell you.¡±

    I was in disbelief. It was bad enough knowing there was a mistress in the picture. Had he been stealing from the Hard Coast Company? That''s a good way to get killed. It''s a good way to get your family killed.

    ¡°That''s probably how that Cralix  creature got her hooks in him, extortion.¡±

    ¡°From the sound of it, Mister Rathkin, she didn''t have to do much to get my father to make some poor decisions.¡±

    ¡°No, likely not. It''s any pretty face for Culver Bascombe.¡±

    My mind was all over the place. I didn''t know my father at all. My mother and I were merely a means for his advancement with the Hard Coast Company. The bastard.

    ¡°I can tell you gentlemen where he is staying. Do you remember the streets well enough, Margrin?¡±

    ¡°Of course I do. It hasn''t been that long in Elf years.¡± Rathkin laughed at that.

    ¡°The jetty down by the rocks at the end of the  Finial Point Road, it''s the last villa there. Rather secluded. Used to be owned by the former Duke. Cairwahl thought it too creepy and sold it. That''s where Culver has been taking his women.¡±

    ¡°We need more help than just that, Rathkin. We need him followed and we need to know everywhere he goes and everyone with whom he interacts.¡±

    ¡°Easy enough, Margrin. I can tell you he''ll be at the fights tonight. They have death matches every Tenthday at an old warehouse on the docks. Gruesome stuff, that.¡±

    He considered for a moment. ¡°Come back here tomorrow night, Margrin, and I''ll have some answers for you.¡±

    As we left, Margrin said ¡°They call him the Rat King. Not to his face of course. Because of all the rats at the docks and his control of the docks.¡±

    We walked in silence for a bit. I could feel that Margrin was giving me time to digest all that I had just learned.

    Then he added ¡°It''s ironic with all the cats, don''t you think?¡±

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 30: A Savage Spectacle

    If the docks looked dangerous in daylight, they were doubly so at night. I had talked Margrin into venturing out, accompanying me to this ¡°death match¡± of which Rathkin spoke. Surely it couldn''t be that bad or it would have been shut down.

    ¡°What''s your greatest fear, Bascombe? Should we find out some disturbing truths this evening, what''s the worst scenario you can imagine.¡±

    I don''t know if Margrin was just making small talk to calm his nerves or if he was genuinely interested, but every time a bottle broke or a cat howled or someone''s voice was raised in anger, he jumped.

    ¡°I don''t know Margrin. Now that I''ve heard these accusations of embezzlement, I''m worried about my mother. He''s left her at our house in Wikehold. Should someone come after my father there, it''s just her and a few servants.¡±

    For a moment, I was lost in thought. I was never terribly close with my mother, but in hindsight, she must have known some of what my father was doing. I remember arguments, but they spoke in adult code so as not to expose me to the reality. Now I pitied her. What a horrible man she had married.

    Lost in thought, I didn''t hear the footsteps coming up behind us until a gruff voice shattered the still night.

    ¡°Fancy a stroll, eh, Gentlemen? Seems rather late, doesn''t it?¡±

    I drew immediately, pointing my blade tip at the point where I thought the voice had originated. To my surprise, here were three more ruffians at least as large as the last three.

    I was beginning to be bothered by these louts thinking us to be easy prey.

    ¡°What is it, Good Sirs? Is it our outfits? Do we look like we won''t put up a fight.¡±

    ¡°In all honesty, Sir, and I shan''t lie, the wardrobe is a touch more, um, light and fancy than I''m used to seeing on grown men. But, as me mum always said, there''s no accounting for taste, Son. Some men will wear dark shades in the middle of summer, some will stick to pastels throughout the winter months, as if there''s not a well-established calendar clearly delineating the fashion seasons, she said.¡±

    I had no idea what this fellow was on about.

    ¡°Don''t worry, Gentlemen. I''m just having a go at you.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°A laugh, Sir. The bit being funny because you wouldn''t expect a ruffian like me to be talking about fashion, you see?¡±

    ¡°Yes, very clever, Sir. Now, may I ask your intentions?¡±

    ¡°I have no intentions myself, Sir. However, Rathkin intends that we keep an eye on you two, being down here at night and all. It''s dangerous.¡±

    Margrin chuckled, ¡°Rathkin! Of course! Well gentlemen, you''re more than welcome. This place unnerves me.¡±

    The first man said ¡°As well it should, Sir. You can see, we had the drop on you two just then. Had we evil intent ¡­¡±

    ¡°What''s the name, Sir?¡±

    ¡°I''m Marts, Mister Ephisiery¨®n. You don''t need to know the other two.¡±

    He dismissed the other men who quickly melted back into the shadows. It was good to know they were there.

    ¡°Have you been to the fights before, Sirs?¡±

    ¡°No, Mister Marts. Any tips for us?¡±

    ¡°If you''re squeamish, when one of them goes down, stop watching. It''s a gruesome business. No weapons. Just fists. You''d be surprised what they can do. I would also refrain from betting. Good way to get into a fight yourself.¡±

    ¡°Do you know my father, Mister Marts?¡±

    ¡°Most certainly, Sir. He''s something of a regular around these parts. Rathkin has had to bail him out of gambling debt trouble more than a few times.¡±

    ¡°But, that''s absurd! My father is a very wealthy man.¡±

    ¡°Are you certain, Sir? He seems to come in for loans on a fairly regular basis. I think there''s much about the man you don''t know.¡±

    ¡°You''re right, of course Mister Marts. Apologies. I shouldn''t have questioned your veracity.¡±

    ¡°I''m a criminal, Mister Bascombe. If you don''t question me, then who?¡±

    Marts was about as nondescript as someone can be, I guess that''s the point in his line of work. Human, maybe 5¡¯7¡±, 140 pounds, black hair and eyes, maybe 30 years old. His nose had been broken more than once, several teeth missing, he looked like he might have some Shamsa ancestry. Definitely not of pure ancestry from the continent. the Shamsa are a nomadic people out of the Great Southern Desert. Very dark skinned. There was definitely some of that in Marts¡¯ past.

    An encounter like this illuminates the difference culturally between Wikehold and Sandlise. There''s plenty of outside influence in Wikehold, but it''s mostly from the Northern continent. You won''t see any Shamsa. I''m Sandlise, the traffic of immigrants is from the South. Different foods, fashions, accents, traditions. I really do need to travel more.

    I asked ¡°Do you go to the fights much, Mister Marts?¡±

    ¡°No, I don''t, Sir. It''s a shameful spectacle in my opinion. Many of the fighters are simply people who got too indebted to Rathkin. He gives them the choice to fight to the death and potentially erase their debt, or die by whatever method he chooses. Pretty easy decision.¡±

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    ¡°I was under the impression that he wasn''t involved in the fights?¡±

    ¡°I don''t know why you''d think that, Mister Bascombe. If a rat scratches a flea on the docks it''s with permission from Rathkin. He runs the whole town, truth be told.¡±

    ¡°Then why is he in that old warehouse?¡±

    ¡°I didn''t say this. Seriously, don''t repeat it. But he might be a bit of a lunatic, Mister Bascombe. As fond as I am of the man, that''s just a fact. We all look out for him though, when he''s having his rough moods. They can get pretty bad.¡±

    There did seem to genuinely be a sort of familial love between these Syndicate fellows. Most unusual.

    ¡°But he also doesn''t like airing his business. He''s safe from most prying down at the docks. And you also haven''t seen all of that warehouse,¡± he chuckled knowingly.

    ¡°Fit for a king?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Sir.¡± he said so matter of factly that I felt I really needed to get the full tour some day.

    We were approaching the warehouse where the fighting took place. Except for once every Tenthday this would be an eerily quiet ghost town. But tonight, in that abandoned warehouse, torch light poured out of every crack and hole in the building¡¯s exterior and into the night. The frantic yells and whoops of the spectators echoing off of every building, down every alleyway of the port facilities.

    There were just a few watchmen strolling the piers and gangways and an inordinate number of rats scurrying about.

    Outside of the building, at the front door, four burly figures, Orcs I thought, were busy shaking down customers and helping to oust ones who had already proven themselves to be trouble. We approached trying to look as confident as possible, not wanting to stick out as neophytes.

    The doormen were Half-Orcs, monstrous looking creatures with greenish skin and stubby tusks jutting from their lower jaws. All four were heavily scarred and tattooed. Surely veterans of some description, they looked like former mercenaries.

    Eying me closely, the largest of them spoke to me in a gruff baritone, ¡°That''ll be five royals, My Fine Sir, and you must check that rapier. All of you gentlemen, weapons must be checked or they''ll be confiscated.¡±

    ¡°I''ll be damned if ¡­¡± Margrin grabbed my shoulder. ¡°We need to get in, Tendil. Don''t work against yourself.¡±

    Calming myself, I took the gem from my rapier''s pommel and pocketed it. Handing over the five gold pieces, I ventured up several wooden steps and went inside. The atmosphere was palpable. The smells. Burning oil from the torches, any number of herbs being smoked, stale ale, body odor, and blood. A young Half-Orc female was behind a counter checking coats and weapons. Handing over my rapier I told her ¡°There''s fifty gold for you if you take good care of this for me, My Dear. I''m acting in good faith, please show me the same courtesy.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Sir!¡± she smiled, taking my blade and putting it directly under the counter,  not with the many other items she had checked. She handed me a ticket and said, ¡°Enjoy the fights, Sir!¡±

    Waiting for Margrin and Marts, I stood to the side, trying to be inconspicuous as I scanned the room for my father. When Marts came over, I asked him to go ahead and find out where he was. He would recognize both me and Margrin on sight.

    The room was rather ingeniously built on rings of concentric wooden risers so that it functioned as a crude arena. All parts of the room providing a good view of the makeshift ring in the building''s center. At the time, two Hobgoblins were going at it, bleeding profusely and gasping for breath.

    Both were wearing only breeches, their russet skin and close-cropped black hair glistening with sweat. Their yellow eyes attentively looking for opportunities for their razor-sharp teeth to be brought into play.

    The spectators were rabid. Waiting for more, some beginning to boo as the exhausted warriors circled each other without attacking.

    Then I saw him, the old man, my father, facing me but on the other side of the ring, not fifteen feet from the combatants. He was red-faced, yelling, flecks of spit coming out of his mouth in his frenzy. I never imagined the man could ever look like this, as if he was crazed. It shocked me and it saddened me. No, I did not know this man at all.

    Finally, one of the fighters wobbled, then collapsed from loss of blood or perhaps his legs just failed him. The other Hobgoblin was on him in a flash, beating him in the face with his fists so savagely that the downed warrior''s skull began to give. That''s what Marts meant when he said to stop watching when they go down. I turned away until I heard a referee yell ¡°Done!¡± and the crowd cheered the outcome.

    Looking to my father, I could see that he had picked the winner. A thuggish looking Human bringing him a fist-sized pouch of coin. Now he looked like my father, smiling, jovial, laughing and chatting energetically with some men standing around him. Swalesians. I recognized them now. Those men were his bodyguards I had seen briefly at the chalet.

    Marts came back then and saw me watching my father across the room.

    ¡°Aye, that''s him. Won a nice bit of gold on that one.¡±

    My father called the thuggish man back over and handed him back the purse.

    ¡°What''s that?¡± I asked Marts.

    ¡°He''s letting it ride. Putting all that gold on the next fight. That''s why he keeps getting in trouble. The man''s overconfident and his luck keeps running out.¡±

    The next fighters were entering the ring as two muscular men dragged out the dead Hobgoblin¡¯s body. Another followed, raking sand over the blood on the ground to dry it.

    I was stunned to see the next combatants. One was a Human, about my size, not large, not small, black hair and beard wearing only breeches. Indescript.

    His adversary though, was an Orc, nearly seven feet tall, easily close to four hundred pounds, huge tusks, long black hair done up in braids. Muscle upon muscle rippled beneath his gray-green skin. In my life, I had never seen any creature like this. The odds had to be heavily skewed toward the Orc.

    The referee came out and stood in the middle of the ring and the crowd went quiet. He began to announce ¡°For your amusement tonight, we have from the Kingdom of Lyridia on the Central Coast, Waldert the Ironmonger!¡± There was a small smattering of cheers for Waldert.

    ¡°And, to my left, from the Orcish Barony of Kruklig in the Eastern Waste, Montorik the Savage!¡±

    Bookies began to run through the crowd, yelling out odds and taking bets, recording the transactions in small ledger books with slate pencils. By the time one of them got around to me, the odds were 500:1 in favor of Montorik.

    I turned to Margrin, ¡°I''d be a fool to not give it a go. What''s five royals?¡±

    ¡°If you feel you must. But remember the warning about betting.¡±

    ¡°It''s a measly five gold, Margrin. What''s the harm?¡±

    I summoned a bookie and put the money on Waldert. The fellow gave me back a record of the transaction with his personal mark torn from his ledger.

    ¡°No more bets!¡¯ came the call from a man I assumed to be the head bookie and all attention was suddenly on the ring.

    The referee once again stepped into the middle between the fighters. He raised an arm over his head, hesitated a moment, then brought it down in a quick chopping motion yelling ¡°Go!¡±

    The Human and the Orc began to slowly circle each other, the Orc making little feints with his arms, drawing laughs from the crowd as he appeared to be toying with his prey.

    After several moments of this, there were murmurs from the spectators and shouts of ¡°Hurry up!¡± and ¡°Come on and fight!¡±

    Finally Montorik lunged, much quicker than you''d think given his size, bellowing some sort of primal war cry. Waldert dodged to the side, barely escaping the Orc¡¯s grasp. If Montorik got his hands on the Human, the fight would effectively be over.

    Once again, they began to circle one another. Montorik seemed surprised that the Human had moved so quickly. He looked to be calculating how much he should lead his opponent before another try, anticipating another dodge. The Human¡¯s only chance was to tire the Orc out by evading him.

    Subtly, Montorik began to draw toward the Human, making the circles bring him closer to the corner ropes, cutting off his escape routes.

    By the time Waldert noticed the strategy, it was too late. He had allowed himself to be cornered. When the Orc saw this realization reflected on the Human''s face, seeing that moment of panic, he sprung from his stance, going headfirst at Waldert¡¯s midsection, meaning to gore him with his tusks. His arms were spread wide to eliminate any risk of evasion.

    At the last moment, Waldert leapt into the air, grabbing the ropes behind him and lifting himself so that he was standing on them, three feet off the ground. If the Orc hadn''t been trying to gore him and had been standing more upright, he would have had him, but Waldert was just high enough that Montorik rammed his head into the metal pole holding up the ropes in the ring''s corner. The clanging sound of his head striking the metal reverberated throughout the arena, followed by gasps and moans from the crowd.

    The Orc collapsed face first to the ground and Waldert was on him immediately, furiously kicking the monster in the face as a dazed Montorik tried to rise. Waldert clasped his hands together, raised them over his head, and sledgehammer-like, began beating on the back of the Orc''s neck. The beast would not stay down and Waldert looked to be tiring.

    Finally, in an act of desperation, the Human grabbed the Orc by his long braids and began slamming his head against the metal pole until a loud cracking noise indicated that Montorik was likely done, his body spasming on the sandy earth.

    ¡°Done!¡± the referee yelled over the groaning attendees. Very few were cheering, but Tendil was one of them. His bookie came over with a grim look on his face.

    ¡°Sir, I''ve been tasked with telling you that, due to the questionable nature of this loss, we will only be able to pay you 250 royals rather than the 2,500 indicated on your ticket.¡±

    I was in disbelief. ¡°What in blazes do you mean ¡®questionable nature,¡¯ my man won!¡±

    ¡°Well, Sir, weapons are forbidden and it''s being argued that the Human used the ring pole as a weapon there at the end. Now, you''re welcome to appeal this decision before our arbitration committee, but ¡­¡±

    Just then, Margrin stepped forward, face to face with the man, and said ¡°Craxit finia, Good Sir. If you don''t mind. We''re guests of Rathkin.

    Marts came over as well and said, ¡°I can vouch for them, Beril.¡±

    ¡°Ah, these gentlemen are with you, Mister Marts?¡±

    ¡°Indeed, Beril, but this one,¡± he said, indicating Margrin, ¡°far outranks me. This is Mister Ephisiery¨®n from Wikehold.¡±

    Beril¡¯s face sunk, ¡°Most sincere apologies to you all. Just doing my job.¡±

    As they were speaking, I looked across the way only to meet my father''s gaze. He recognized me immediately, quickly turning and heading for the door.

    ¡°Dammit! He''s seen me! Now what?¡±

    ¡°He won''t recognize me,¡± said Marts. Go collect your winnings and I''ll tail him. When he gets where he''s going, I''ll send my boys to get you.¡±

    So, claiming my rapier, I gave the check girl one hundred rather than fifty royals which made her start to cry, but I didn''t have time for that.

    Margrin and I waited out front until we saw one of Marts¡¯ men approaching. He indicated that we were to follow him as he headed down to the pier.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 31: From the Shadows

    Marts¡¯ man moved quickly using stacks of shipping crates to hide his movements as we approached a cog owned by the Southward League, the Hard Coast Company''s major competitor. Their flag, a blue gryphon on a white field, flew from the main mast above the crow¡¯s nest.

    Just ahead, we saw Marts, crouched and peeking around a crate. He motioned for us to stay low as we approached. The only thing to be heard was the wash of the ocean against the seawall and the creaking  of the wooden ships in dock.

    Ducking down just behind Marts, I could see two figures near the ship''s gangway. One was taller than the other. I recognized the black robe he was wearing from the fights. It was my father. His head was uncovered and he kept looking around as if he expected me to spring out on him at any moment.

    The other figure was much smaller, possibly a female, wearing a dark gray robe and cloak with the hood pulled up over their head and a black scarf around their face.

    My father was gesticulating wildly, pointing back in the direction of the fight warehouse.

    Now, where we were positioned, I started to be able to pick out words here and there.

    ¡°Followed ¡­ more careful ¡­ out of time ¡­ order ¡­ backup plan ¡­ Tendil.¡± I''m not even sure if any of that was heard correctly. My name stood out though. Clearly. The other person reached into their robe and produced a rather large pouch, handing it over to my father who took it quickly, putting it under his own robe.

    I hadn''t seen them before because the crate was obstructing my view, but now the four Swalesian bodyguards came into view to escort my father to ¡­ where? Possibly the villa of which Marts spoke, but we needed to be certain. Marts quickly volunteered to follow the men to wherever they were going. After my father left, Marts and his two associates began moving from shadow to shadow tailing them.

    I was still watching the other person standing there on the pier. Nervously looking around for any prying eyes, they pulled something out of a pouch slung over their arm, a scroll. Unrolling the thing and  reciting the spell in a guarded whisper, they vanished.

    I walked over to the spot where they and my father had been standing. I don''t know what I expected to find, but there was nothing there. Nothing about the person had seemed familiar, yet it nagged at me. Some of the mannerisms I was familiar with, but from where?

    I had to be careful about jumping to conclusions. With no real evidence, that could cause more problems than it would solve.

    I turned to Margrin, ¡°Well, what do you think?¡±

    ¡°I think it was a Gray Elf.¡±

    ¡°What? What brings you to that conclusion? And tread lightly, Margrin, there''s much at stake and much this person must answer for.¡±

    ¡°You didn''t smell it, did you?¡±

    ¡°Smell what, precisely? I smell dead fish and rat urine.¡±

    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

    ¡°The old story about Gray Elves giving off a scent that calms Humans. It''s not made up. We give off a strong smell that isn''t readily noticeable, not for Humans at least. It acts on you at the subconscious level. Anyway it''s a bunch of natural philosophy theory. Well, for Humans it''s theory. For us it''s very real. And I could smell him from over here.¡±

    ¡°¡®Him,¡¯ you say?

    ¡°Yes, definitely a male, but that''s as much as I can tell you. I didn''t get enough of the voice to recognize him.¡±

    ¡°It may be a coincidence, but we stand here before this ship, part of the Southward League fleet. Direct competitors of the Hard Coast Company. Do you think my father is double dealing? Perhaps the Southward League is planning on making a play for the amber as well, and he''s giving away any intelligence he has on what the Hard Coast Company is doing.¡±

    ¡°Well, I''d put nothing past your father. That''s for certain. And add the involvement of Cralix ¡­¡±

    ¡°I have to get word to my mother somehow. Now that my father knows or suspects that we''re following him, he''ll tell Cralix and she may go after her. Mother is easy to find in Wikehold.¡±

    ¡°What could we do to protect her? Cralix is far too powerful for us.¡±

    ¡°We need another ring and amulet like you have. Bring my mother to Nez Clar?, perhaps hide her there where Cralix won''t look. My mother''s  presence would be shielded from any magical methods of tracking.¡±

    ¡°I don''t have another ring and amulet set, but I know ?rdelon does. We need to get back to Nez Ambr¨ªl quickly if we want to do something about your mother; Cralix won''t waste any time if she feels threatened by you, us. Here''s a plan, no offense, but at this point you''re really not needed here. I''m the one with the contacts and I know what needs to be done. Let''s see what Marts finds out tonight, and if you''re not needed further, you can go back, get the ring and amulet, and get them to your mother. What do we have left? Five or six days?¡±

    ¡°I''m not even sure, Margrin. Things are moving so quickly and my mind is in such turmoil. I want to see May. I hate to say something so selfish, but she occupies my thoughts so.¡±

    ¡°No need to apologize for your feelings. I understand them well. She''s an incredible woman. I think I''d be terribly jealous if I didn''t think you were deserving of her. If I didn''t I would probably kill you.¡±

    ¡°Well, thank the gods I passed that test,¡± I laughed.

    ¡°Have you killed many people Margrin?¡±

    He seemed to consider for a moment. ¡°In all honesty, Bascombe, yes, quite a few. And I''ve ordered the killings of even more. It''s the nature of the business. I''m neither proud nor ashamed of it. It simply is an occasional necessity. There has never been a case where the person didn''t expect it or deserve it.¡±

    ¡°How can you decide to be the ultimate judge in those situations? That makes you like a god, doesn''t it?¡±

    ¡°No, Bascombe. If you''d like an appropriate simile, I''m like the Angel of Death. The arbiter in each of the cases is a code, Krezmir, which all my Syndicate family has chosen to live by. I''m merely enforcing the code. I''m subject to the same fate in similar circumstances.¡±

    ¡°Come, Bascombe, let''s see if Rathkin might have some accommodations for us this evening. It''s late and I don''t want to stay at an inn.¡±

    ¡°You have no sense of who that Elf was, Margrin?¡±

    ¡°I have suspicions and gut feelings, but we can''t go on that. And you need to understand that Gray Elves aren''t prisoners in Nez Ambr¨ªl; we are free to go where we will. There aren''t many, but there certainly are some expatriate Gray Elves who have gone out into the wider world for one reason or another. Perhaps they prefer the hustle and bustle of the big city. Nez Ambr¨ªl isn''t exactly a booming metropolis like Wikehold.

    ¡°There is also an illness of the mind called Shadow Melancholia. For whatever reason, living in the constant shade of the forest canopy with little direct sunlight just affects some in a way where they feel trapped, sad, tired. For Elves thus afflicted, a place like Sandlise is a sanctuary.¡±

    ¡°I have a personal question for you, Margrin. just before we left, Queen May had sent that envoy Plogue on a mission to talk to the Hobgoblins. Given your history with the creatures, how would you feel if they joined the cause against the Swalesians?¡±

    ¡°When you live as long as we do, Bascombe, you realize that the one constant in this world is change. It becomes something of a blur, all of it flying by so fast. Nothing stays the same. Civilizations rise and fall. Beliefs come and go. War and peace and war and peace in a never ending cycle. Each new generation forgets the lessons learned by the last. You''d think there was no such thing as books for people to look to for guidance. They think old thoughts don''t apply to them and run headlong into the same mistakes their ancestors made. It defies sense.¡±

    ¡°I''m sorry to go on like that. The short answer to your question is that these Hobgoblins are not those Hobgoblins. Perhaps they''re different. I''ll reserve judgment. That old expression that a leopard can''t change its spots is a lie promulgated by those who haven''t lived long enough to see it happen.¡±

    ¡°I mean look at me, Bascombe, I used to be far too selfish to do the things I''m doing now. Suddenly I''m a patriot willing to die for a cause I used to not give a second thought.¡±

    ¡°The perspective you gain with age will sweep over you like a flood, taking many of your old beliefs with it. And yet, that doesn''t guarantee you''ll be right about your new beliefs,¡± he had a long laugh about that. ¡°I''ve known elders who were frequently wrong and held positions of authority based primarily on their age.¡±

    We both laughed as we walked back past the bars, prostitutes, press gangs, and cut purses. Surely they thought us crazy. Two wealthy looking gentlemen walking through this neighborhood at night with no escort. Let them think what they will. The fact was that my confidence was growing.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 32: Answers in Amber

    Rathkin was graciously accommodating and gave us a pair of adjoining guest rooms. As we were told earlier, the first room in which we saw the man was no example of the rest of the place. The appointments were all rather luxurious, the beds comfortable, even the food we were offered was stellar.

    We ate with Rathkin in a small dining hall, large enough for at least twenty yet still somehow intimate. Laneston served and likely cooked. We never saw another servant while we were there. In deference to Margrin the meal was a hearty vegetable stew served with small baguettes and an excellent dry white wine that easily cut through the heavy main course. Desert was a blackberry flan. So we were well-cared-for and, as an inn, I would give the place a stellar review with one caveat.

    There were few doors in Rathkin''s dockyard sanctuary. And we were once again told that the kittens had free reign. As much as I like cats, and as cute as those kittens were, I barely slept a wink. I couldn''t roll over without something hissing at me or howling in imaginary pain. They were on my chest, belly, around my head. They wrestled, they drooled, they fought for position, my earlobes were a favorite toy. And as annoying as it got, I had to keep reminding myself that I didn''t want to be drowned in a tub. No, I would trade sleep for life any day.

    The next day, Laneston woke us and we were summoned for an audience with Rathkin in his receiving room. When we arrived, Marts was already there, looking like he''d been up all night as well.

    ¡°Ah, gentlemen, good morning! Did you sleep well?¡±

    ¡°Like a stone, Mister Rathkin. Your hospitality is very much appreciated.¡±

    ¡°Well, Laneston, chairs for our guests please!¡±

    Laneston pulled out the same wooden chairs we had used yesterday and we were seated before Rathkin who was on a slightly raised dais and looking down at us.

    ¡°Very well, Marts, tell them of your findings.¡±

    ¡°Yes, Mister Rathkin. Well, first of all, they are at the villa as I suspected. Terribly remote place. It''s just your father, Mister Bascombe, and Cralix. I don''t know if Half-Elves require sleep ¡­¡±

    ¡°They do not.¡± interrupted Margrin.

    ¡°Well, at any rate,¡± continued Marts, ¡°she didn''t have any.¡±

    ¡°There''s a basement  to the villa with windows level to the ground around the place. You don''t see much looking out of them but the sky. However, from a proper vantage point and with a good telescope,¡± he patted the brass tube sticking out of a coat pocket, ¡°one has an excellent view of what''s going on inside the room.¡±

    ¡°And?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Patience, Mister Bascombe,¡± Rathkin scolded.

    ¡°As I said,¡± Marts continued, ¡°I could see everything she was doing. She''s got a set up down there, I can tell you. There are dozens of vials, glass jars, mortars and pestles, all sorts of alchemist''s implements. But her favorite tool seemed to be a small hammer of the type jewelers employ. She was using that to crack open pieces of amber, then poking around inside them with a very pointed pair of tweezers.

    ¡°She''s extracting inclusions,¡± I said, and Margrin agreed.

    Marts went on. ¡° You''d think she was making jewelry, but I kept seeing bright flashes of light, magical light in greens and oranges and purples. I could see on her work table that there was a lot of crushed amber, so she had been at it for a while.¡±

    Marts stopped for a moment, seeming to be steeling himself for what he had to tell us next.

    ¡°It was almost daybreak when there was a great flash and much smoke. When it cleared, I thought I was seeing things, but there, in the center of the room, was a  creature. Not a creature of this world, mind you, but something from the nether planes. An aberration. A devil. It had a man''s shape, but the head of a huge toad with unblinking eyes and rows of sharp teeth and tusks. For the love of the gods, it had horns like a goat, hooves like a goat! Bat wings! Its hands ending in knife-like claws. I was frozen there looking at this thing. Drooling. Its spit sizzling as it hit the ground. And then it turned to me, its face filling my view, and it screamed, the sound like the very gates of the Abyss squealing open!¡±

    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

    ¡°I ran, gentlemen. There''s nothing for it. I was trembling so badly I could barely keep my feet under me, but I ran. I ran until I got back here. She''s messing around with dark powers in that basement. The kind that one should leave be. Her soul is forfeit. I wasn''t going to lose mine.

    ¡°Sirs, I''m sorry, but we have no power against such as that. Infernal beasts.¡±

    ¡°Mister Rathkin, you know I don''t scare easily. I''m a good soldier. So you know, when I say I''m scared, there''s something to be scared of.¡±

    ¡°Don''t worry Marts,¡± Rathkin said consolingly, "you are right to be scared. We''ve nothing to throw at something like that . We''re criminals, not heroes.¡±

    ¡°Mister Bascombe, Mister Ephisiery¨®n, I''m afraid we can help you no further. This is beyond our scope. You need spiritual assistance. I can offer none. I''m very sorry and I wish you all the best. Now, good day.¡±

    Laneston appeared immediately to escort us out. I didn''t blame Rathkin for being done with us. This wasn''t his fight, for now. But who knew what Cralix ¡¯s ultimate intentions were. When you''re crazy, world domination seems like a reasonable goal.

    We agreed to get back to Nez Ambr¨ªl as fast as we could. We pulled out our scrolls and recited them carefully, then ¡­ nothing.

    Nothing happened. We were in the same place.

    ¡°What goes on here?¡± I yelled. ¡°Did we get malfunctioning scrolls?¡±

    ¡°We got them from ?rdelon himself,¡± Margrin reasoned. ¡°Maybe they''re old?¡±

    We tried them again, and again nothing.

    ¡°What now? ¡±Margrin asked. ¡°I don''t know any Wizards around here and I believe Rathkin wants done with us. He''s our only hope.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps not,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe we can find a Wizard for hire or a scroll shop.¡±

    ¡°What good will that d¨®, Bascombe? Neither one of us has our cheque books with us.

    I smiled, ¡°I''ve got 2,400 royals in my purse, Good Sir!¡±

    Not even an hour later, we were back in the war room in the Tree Palace. May, Palisir, Mestil, and Field Marshal Every¨®n were crowded around their usual table talking strategies, debating troop strengths, just like we left them.

    ¡°Welcome back my travelers!¡± May was effusive. I could tell that she really had missed me and it meant the world.

    ¡°We''ve much to go over, My Queen. We have not been idle, nor has the enemy.¡±

    ¡°Very well, Gentlemen, to my quarters.¡±

    Taking seats around her table, May ordered tea and biscuits and we filled her in on everything.

    ¡°Mister Bascombe, you have my utmost sympathy.¡± She looked so sad saying this. ¡°To have to deal with something like this, and involving your own father is unimaginable for me. It must cut deeply.¡±

    ¡°I never thought the man to be a saint, but neither did I imagine him to be a devil, and he certainly seems to be much more the latter.¡±

    ¡°And Mister Ephisiery¨®n you''ve no idea who this other Elf might be?¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty, if I spoke on my intuition, I could be doing someone a grave injustice. I''ll hold my tongue for now.¡±

    Then I remembered, ¡°Your Majesty, I need to get two magical items to my mother in Wikehold immediately and I need ?rdelon''s assistance. It shouldn''t take long. I need three Teleportation scrolls, but not like the last ones you gave us.¡±

    ¡°Why do you say that, Mister Bascombe?¡±

    I explained that they didn''t work and how we managed to get back. ¡°We could have been stuck down there, that''s a trip of three weeks, if not longer¡±

    ¡°That''s not possible, Mister Bascombe.¡±

    ¡°Of course it is, My Lady, five hundred miles at twenty-five miles a day ¡­¡±

    ¡°No, you dolt! The scrolls! ?rdelon has a stone you can look through to test the efficacy of scrolls and potions so that sort of thing doesn''t happen. Were your scrolls sealed with an emblem of an owl wearing a crown? If so, that stamp is on that stone so there''s no forgetting. It would have to be the result of sabotage.¡±

    ¡°Well I still need to get to my mother, and quickly.¡±

    ¡°?rdelon is not here, he had to go to Wikehold for supplies. You know where he keeps those scrolls, in the pile by the pile by the dust, right?¡±

    I chuckled, that was ?rdelon alright.

    ¡°Just go get them yourselves. You have my permission.¡±

    ¡°Your Majesty, if I may, how went the talks with the Hobgoblins?¡±

    ¡°Not completed yet Mister Ephisiery¨®n, but it''s looking promising. They have 30,000 troops. Mister Plogue should be concluding negotiations with them today, why?¡±

    ¡°Oh, it''s nothing, Your Majesty, personal curiosity.¡±

    When we arrived at ?rdelon''s workshop, the door was locked.

    Pulling out a kit of Thieves'' tools, Margrin playfully said, ¡°Stand aside. Here''s where it comes in handy having a criminal companion.¡±

    In a matter of seconds, he had the door open.

    The late afternoon sun shone through the room¡¯s lone leaded glass window, capturing the swirls of dust as the door creaked open. There''s something unsettling about a Wizard''s workroom. Gods only knew what went on in there, and the Mana never diffused completely, making one''s skin tingle. Margrin went immediately to the pile of scrolls in the room''s far corner. ¡°Okay,¡± he said, ¡°here''s three. See if he has a satchel we can put these in.¡±

    I found the satchel I frequently see ?rdelon wearing and tossed it to Margrin. As it arced through the air, three or four good sized pieces of amber clattered to the floor.

    ¡°Gods, the stuff''s everywhere you look around here. Those are included pieces. Must have had them for his experiments.¡±

    Then it dawned on me. ¡°What experiments?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Are you daft, Man? We just spoke of them the other day.¡±

    ¡°Let me ask you a question, Margrin. How often, if you were to guess, does ?rdelon clean up in here?¡±

    ¡°Never, is what I would guess.¡±

    ¡°Do you remember Marts¡¯ description of the workroom where he saw Cralix?¡±

    ¡°Of course,¡± he replied. ¡°There were vials, jars, jeweler''s tools, alchemist''s tools, a small hammer, mortars, pestles, crushed amber all over the tabletop. That''s all I remember.¡±

    ¡°Good enough, Sir! She and ?rdelon are ostensibly working on similar projects, extracting and refining the inclusions. How much of what you just listed do you see on ?rdelon''s work table?¡±

    He stared at the table as if willing something to appear. ¡°I see nothing, Bascombe. None of it. Then what in blazes has he been doing down here?¡±

    ¡°To me,¡± I said, ¡°it looks like he hasn''t been here.¡±

    ¡°Well, yes,¡± Margrin said, almost defensively. ¡°Queen May said he''s in Wikehold.¡±

    ¡°Or, perhaps Sandlise,¡± I suggested. It occured to me that, when I heard my father speaking to that figure on the pier, he used the word ¡®order.¡¯ But the word wasn''t ¡®order,¡¯ he said ?rdelon. And that sack he handed my father was amber.¡±

    ¡°I don''t know what sort of treachery we''re dealing with here, but we need to alert Queen May, now!¡±<figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 33: Treacherous Times

    Margrin and I went to Queen May immediately with our suspicions. Surely we can call them more than that now. The weight of the evidence pointed to the fact that ?rdelon was a traitor. We just didn''t know why, or to what end.

    May still held out hope for the man. ¡°He''s been with me throughout my entire reign. He''s loyal. This isn''t him. You''ve said it yourselves, it was Cralix working with the amber, not him. He''s likely being coerced somehow.¡±

    ¡°Or they''re working together.¡± I suggested. ¡°Toward what goal, I cannot know. It has to be more than simple greed.¡±

    ¡°Does it, Mister Bascombe?¡± May rejoined, ¡°greed is perhaps the most powerful motivator after love.¡±

    ¡°Of course you''re right, Your Majesty. This is not easy. I think we all want ?rdelon to be innocent, or at least not complicit in this treachery.¡±

    ¡°Gods! I forgot my mother. I need to get to her immediately! Margrin, did you find another ring and talisman in ?rdelon''s workshop?¡±

    ¡°Aye, Bascombe. In my pocket.¡±

    ¡°Good man!¡±

    ¡°Begging your pardon, your Majesty, but we must get my mother to safety. Dammit! We need two more scrolls for you and I to get back, Margrin. I''m dense!¡±

    ¡°Wait here,¡± he said. ¡°I''ll get them.¡±

    It seemed to take him forever, but Margrin finally made it back with the scrolls. He was ghastly pale. ¡°I saw him, " he said, breathing hard and obviously in pain. ¡°?rdelon was in his workshop gathering more of the included amber. I tried to stop him but he shocked me with some spell, grabbed my arm and it was as if I''d been struck by lightning.¡±

    May brought over a valet, whispered something to him, and sent him off at a run.

    ¡°I failed you on that one, My Queen. I''ll be better prepared next time.

    ¡°?rdelon is a very powerful Wizard, Mister Ephisiery¨®n. It''s doubtful you could have given him much of a fight. But your bravado is well-noted. I guess there''s no stopping him until we get those vaults built, but I hate the thought of Cralix with the inclusions. She''s already dabbling in the Dark Arts from the sound of it.¡±

    ¡°Oh, and you gentlemen may depart whenever you''re ready.¡±

    ¡°Thank you, Your Majesty. We shouldn''t be more than an hour.¡±

    Stepping onto the veranda, we read our scrolls and appeared in the great room at my parents'' house in Wikehold. I had only been gone for two weeks, but it seemed like years. So much had happened to me in that short period of time.

    Their house is like a museum of wealth. Nothing ever looks touched.

    Standing there, we didn''t hear footsteps coming up from behind until the man was on us. We both turned to see a figure in black, blending into the darkness of the room, and pointing a loaded hand crossbow at us.

    ¡°Ah! Margrin, this is Pharris, our majordomo. Pharris, Mister Margrin  Ephisiery¨®n.¡±

    ¡°The pleasure is mine, I''m sure, Sir,¡± Pharris said dryly. ¡°We weren''t expecting you, Master Tendil.¡±

    Pharris despised being caught off guard. ¡°No Pharris, this is something of a surprise, my sincerest apologies.¡±

    ¡°I''ve come to get mother. She''s in quite a bit of danger, I''m afraid. It''s that Witch, Cralix, but I won''t try to tell you the whole story. We''re going to take her somewhere safe for a couple of weeks. ¡°Where is she?¡±

    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

    ¡°She''s in the upstairs reading room, Master Tendil, with Mister Bascombe.¡±

    ¡°With my father!?¡± I cried.

    ¡°Yes, Sir he also came by unexpectedly.

    I ran to the upstairs reading room yelling the whole way, ¡°Mother! ¡°Mother!¡± But there was no answer and the reading room was empty. Father and Cralix had her!

    I told Pharris what had happened and he was aghast. ¡°Right under my nose!¡± was all he kept saying. But it wasn''t his fault. How do you prepare for something if you don''t know what to prepare for?

    ¡°What now?,¡± asked Margrin.

    Well, we can''t go to Sandlise. That''s  the first place they''d expect us to go, and it would increase the risk of them harming Mother.¡±

    ¡°We should go back to Nez Ambr¨ªl and put our collective heads together. Someone in that place has an idea. We just need to track it down. Oh, and we need to learn how to fight devils, don''t forget. And powerful Witches, and invading armies. So much for doing it one-handed,¡± he laughed.

    Back in the war room, May was in her usual spot with Pelisir and Field Marshal Every¨®n. They were joined by the envoy, Plogue, and a young female Elf in crimson robes who had taken over the scrying duties in ?rdelon''s absence.

    The Queen spoke, ¡°Misters Bascombe and Ephisiery¨®n, may I introduce Janiver Phinriel. The headmaster of our School of Magics, Marvale has recommended her as ?rdelon''s replacement. Despite being a fraction of his age she is reportedly a much better Wizard.  She is up to speed on everything so you may speak freely around her. She will begin working with the inclusions this afternoon and claims to already have some incredible ideas.¡±

    I put my hand out and shook hers. She was a grim looking young lady. Very focused. You could tell she was uncomfortable having to be congenial.

    ¡°The rumor is,¡± said May, ¡°that Janiver was left with her parents by faeries. She exhibits many of those traits. She doesn''t speak much, frequently is found alone, so all of you men here, be mindful, people being physically close to her or touching her might elicit a nasty defensive spell. She''s only 30, boys. Definitely not ready for romantic attention as pretty as she is. Let''s wait until after the war anyway.¡± This drew moans and grumblings from the young soldiers in the room and a smile from May.

    ¡°And Mister Plogue came back with excellent news: the Hobgoblins will be with us. Seeing the look on Margrin''s face, she quickly added, on our Western Front with the High, Moon, and Deep Elves. I recognize that the Siege of the Black Banner is still fresh in the minds of some of our population here. There''s no sense in that becoming an issue. The new Hobgoblin War Chief, Krukyar wasn''t there at the Siege, of course. Hobgoblins don''t live as long as Humans do. But they''ve got something they call ¡®racial memory,¡¯ kept alive by their Bards and Skjalds.  He''s had similar issues with his troops because they feel the loss  of ancestral blood. Mister Plogue explained it to me. Really quite fascinating.¡±

    ¡°If you''ll all come with me,¡± the Queen said, walking out into the corridor, ¡°Field Marshal Every¨®n will go over the details with us. Janiver, bring your ball!¡±

    We went to a small ballroom overlooking the forest just down the hall from the war room. A large wooden frame had been erected to hang maps and Every¨®n got right to it. Hanging maps covered in arrows and writing and little squares showing troops and their strength. There was a small table to the right for Janiver¡¯s crystal ball.

    The first thing she did at Every¨®n''s prompting was bring up an eagle''s eye view of the Swalesian army in motion. It made my blood run cold. A solid mass of fighters, bristling with spears, flashes of light as their armor caught what was left of the setting sun. Every¨®n pointed to a spot on his big map just north of the fens.

    ¡°They are here. They''ll March through the night and set up camp here. He pointed to an area just outside the southernmost tip of the Taliswood. This is where they''ll establish their staging area and begin to build their siege engines.¡±

    ¡°This army is 600,000 strong. I''m not good with mathematics, but that''s a lot,¡± Every¨®n chuckled.

    ¡°If I may, Sir,¡± Janiver unexpectedly broke in, addressing the Field Marshal, ¡° I wouldn''t worry too much about that siege machinery, she ended her sentence with a diminutive diabolical snicker.

    Every¨®n smiled, ¡°Any help we can get Miss Janiver. Now don''t interrupt again or I''ll have you on the wall!¡± he bellowed.

    She suddenly found the need to adjust the crystal ball just so. Avoiding any and all eye contact.

    ¡°So,¡± Every¨®n continued, the plan is this: the Clouds Elves and Snow Elves come in from behind the Gnolls from the East, harassing them until we, the Gray Elves, make contact in the woods approximately here.¡±

    He pointed to a location roughly twenty miles to the east of Nez Ambr¨ªl.

    ¡°We bring them into trebuchet and archery range, then give them hell.

    ¡°In the West, the Moon Elves skirmish with the mercenaries up to this point about five miles to the West of Nez Clar?. We give them time to encamp, and they might, both the Deep Elves and the Hobgoblins strike from North and South with sorties of High Elf cavalry coming in from the East after we begin to pummel the encampment with trebuchets and archery fire. The Deep Elves and Hobgoblins both will be coming from positions behind the city so as to go undetected. Hopefully.¡±

    At this point, he cleared his throat and his face grew grim.

    ¡°Then, we begin our greatest gambit.  Everyone knows the story of the Wood Elves and the massacre of the Hask. We are going to try something similar here, drawing the Swalesians in and beginning a harassment campaign from positions of stealth, beating on them all the way to Iln¨ªst. As Janiver has alluded, there will be persistent attacks of a long range magical nature on the enemy from the time they enter Imsk¨ªli until they are within five miles of Iln¨ªst.¡±

    We still have ongoing talks with King Cromar of Feersland and with the Dwarves, and are hopeful their assistance will allow us to pull troops to aid against the Swalesians. And that''s where we stand. Our situation could be much worse. It could be better, but we won''t concern ourselves with what could be. This is a fight for our existence. We''ve been dealt this hand, and now it''s up to us to play it to the best of our abilities, Aye?¡±

    The entire assemblage shouted in unison, ¡°Aye!¡±

    As this group broke up, I took the opportunity to pull May to the side. I hadn''t brought her up to speed on what had happened with my mother.

    From her eyes, I could feel great sympathy, and also a resolve that was almost frightening.

    ¡°You know, Tendil,¡± she said, with all of this talk about military matters, we''ve neglected to discuss our greatest threats. We still have Cralix in the West, and Mag''stula in the East. I don''t think either one has realized their full potential with the included amber. Our Wizards don''t even know what they should be prepared for. This much power has not been placed in so few hands in many millennia. There aren''t even songs old enough to suggest the capabilities.¡±

    ¡°My Queen,¡± I began with all the courage I could muster, ¡°We can''t wait to see what the Witches will do. We must take the fight to them.¡±

    ¡°Oh really, Mister Bascombe, and what do you propose? A duel?

    ¡°Don''t be antagonistic, My Love, There are ways to destroy a Witch which allow you something of an advantage. I''ll need a little time to research the topic.¡±

    ¡°Well, that''s precisely what you have, Sir, a little time. Very little. Go! To the library! Get Janiver to help if you have any questions about the magic involved.<figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 34: How to Kill a Witch

    According to our latest scouting reports, the Gnolls were just outside the Taliswood on the Eastern Front, and the Swalesians, just outside the Southern Woods on our Southern Front. Both groups were beginning to fell trees to construct siege weapons. That gave me about four days to get to my mother and get her to safety.  I was headed to the library and scooped up Janiver en route. Margrin was standing idly about so I had him come with us as well.

    I was walking close to a run when Janiver came to a complete halt.

    ¡°Where are we going, Mister Bascombe?¡±

    ¡°Why, to the library, of course, Janiver, don''t you remember?¡±

    ¡°But this isn''t the way, Sir.¡±

    ¡°Well, it''s the only way to the only library I know in this Palace.¡±

    ¡°Then follow me¡± she said, taking me down a flight of stairs that led to a door that went inside the tree. Before us was a spiral staircase they went up into the trunk for a few hundred feet. All the way up, books lined the path spiraling up into darkness. With a snap of her finger, Jamiver ignited orbs of light along the whole of the tree''s inside. Once illuminated, I could see that all of these books, scrolls, and manuscripts were of a magical nature.

    Jamiver called out, up the stairway, ¡°Amolit! Come.¡± There was a quick beating of wings and a creature appeared on the banister of the stairs. A most remarkable creature that I knew from children''s bedtime stories, but this one was living and real. It was a legendary Hollyphant! ¡°By the gods! Janiver! It''s a Hollyphant!¡±

    Margrin grumbled, ¡°Those aren''t real, you imbecile. It''s an illusion!¡±

    ¡°Janiver?¡± I questioned dejectedly.

    ¡°Oh, no he''s quite real, Gentlemen, aren''t you Amolit?¡±

    The tiny creature put its head back and trumpeted a pretty loud blast for its size.

    Janiver explained, ¡°Amolit is a familiar, specifically a familiar of Cairnin, the head librarian. And if you haven''t guessed, we''re in the lesser known Library of Magic. It''s not open to the public.¡±

    ¡°Amolit,¡± she said, "gather what books we have on Witches, specifically how to capture and, or destroy them.¡± She looked at me questioningly and I nodded my head. Yes. Either or both. Amolit moved like a hummingbird, books and scrolls levitating in a line behind it as it gathered the requested materials.

    Hollyphants are celestial beings, from the upper planes. As a child I learned that these creatures rewarded you for good deeds done, while devils from the lower planes doled out punishments for poor behavior.

    I had always dreamed of seeing one. It being there told me I was fighting for the right side.

    Another twenty feet up and we were at another door, this one leading out to a sunroom that was only accessible via the staircase we took. This is where the Wizards did their studies. The place was nearly empty except for a couple of young Wizards looking like they were frantically preparing for an examination.

    ¡°Oudlin, Sturit, you two had better be prepared for Professor Gilsip tomorrow!¡± They both raised their heads and said, in unison, "Yes, Miss Janiver.¡±

    ¡°You''re both on slippery slopes!¡±

    ¡°Yes, Ma''am.¡±

    It will be a miracle if either of those little gremlins pass that exam,¡± she said to me in an aside.

    We pored  over ancient tome after ancient tome and came to the conclusion that it would take more to stop these Witches than we realized. I mean we knew it would be hard, they''re very powerful beings. One thing working in our favor is that both Cralix and Mag''stula were still mortal. Their drive to obtain more and more included amber pointed to the probability that it could make their transition into liches much easier. But as mortals, they were beatable on some level. We just needed to get to them while that was still the case.

    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

    Closing the book she was reading, Janiver had a sudden realization, ¡°We''re looking in the wrong places, Mister Bascombe. Liches the undead, Necromancy, we don''t need a library, not this one at least, we need a church.

    I told her about my meeting with the fake Mother Felistia. ¡°That does sound an awful lot like her,¡± she giggled. ¡°And you''ve yet to meet Father Vastila. Both of them are as powerful as they can get without some sort of transcendence, and that''s what our Witches are attempting, an ascension where their power will have no equal on this plane. They wish to be demigods and gods themselves, the fools.

    ¡°I hate to ask, but will the temptation to ascend not also affect Felistia and Vastila?¡±

    ¡°You''re right to ask, Mister Bascombe. It''s a good question. We will have to place our trust in them. That''s all there is to it.¡±

    ¡°We''ll have another stop to make as well, with Mater Carca in the Necropolis. She is a Warlock but, with Death as her patron, there is much in common between her practice and Necromancy. She may have the answers we need.¡±

    Janiver noted the distaste on my face.

    ¡°Yes, I know, Mister Bascombe. She''s creepy, the place is creepy, the Barrow Elves are creepy. We''ve few other paths we can take. Carca has the power to take on either Cralix or Mag''stula in a head to head fight. That makes her indispensable in this battle, don''t you see?¡±

    I knew it was unavoidable, still ¡­ my mind fought against me.

    ¡°We''ll see Mater Carca first to get it out of the way,¡± Janiver said consolingly.

    ¡°You say that as if it should make me feel better,¡± I moaned.

    ¡°Get over it, Mister Bascombe, she''s the most powerful, wait, I take that back, she''s the <i>only</i> Necromancer to whom we have access. It just so happens that she is a very high-powered one in the bargain.

    ¡°Have you seen the Barrow Elf cavalry, Sir?¡±

    ¡°No, thankfully I wasn''t in the Necropolis for very long. Are they creepy too?¡±

    ¡°I should say so!¡± I hadn''t seen Janiver this animated. ¡°Their horses are zombies with sharp teeth. Truly horrifying.  I''ll show them to you when we go!¡±

    ¡°That''s quite alright,¡± I declined. ¡°Your description was vivid enough.¡±

    I''m not afraid of dying, but things associated with death terrify me, coffins, dead bodies, especially bodies. So seeing some zombie horses isn''t going to help my humours.

    It was late in the day when we arrived at the Necropolis and we had to wait more than half an hour to see Mater Carca.

    Finally gaining an audience, the first thing she asked was ¡°Where is your lady friend, Mister Bascombe? Couldn''t drag herself away from the war for a moment to come say ¡®hello?¡¯¡±

    I was caught off guard. ¡°Your Majesty, I''m sure I don''t ¡­

    ¡°Oh, you know what I''m talking about, Sir. It''s the scandal of the kingdom.¡±

    ¡°Everyone knows,¡± chimed in Janiver.

    ¡°Enough of that, Wizard.¡± I said between clinched teeth.

    ¡°Anyway, Introductions are in order. Carca, this is Janiver, our new Head Wizard.

    Oh, I know everything already, Mister Bascombe. It''s a good thing I''m an ally.¡±

    She became very serious then,  ¡°You two need to make sure something happens for me.¡±

    ¡°We''ll do what we can within reason,¡± I said.

    Her eyes narrowed, ¡°I need a quantity of the included amber. Perhaps a pound, Yes, a pound. I''ve got my own surprise in store for the Swalesians.

    ¡°I can already tell you, Your Majesty, Queen May will have no problem honoring that request. Perhaps we can share some pointers?¡± answered Janiver.

    ¡°Mayhap we can work together,¡± said Carca, "my distillations could stand to be more pure, I''m certain.

    ¡°Now, for the actual combat, I''ll take Mag''stula one on one. We''ve an old animosity she and I and I''d love to send that vile creature back to the Abyss from which she came.

    ¡°It will be your responsibility, you two and whoever helps you, to take care of Cralix.¡±

    ¡°How do we do it?¡± Janiver asked. We know she''s mortal but her powers have grown exponentially in the past several days.

    ¡°The first thing you have to do,¡± began Carca, is find her mother. Her mother can break the connection between Cralix and whatever devil she''s in congress with. That will halve her power. And then, my young Wizardress, you are more than powerful enough to handle her. I can feel it coming off of you like waves of heat from a blazing hearth. You''re strong.¡±

    ¡°Where we''re very fortunate here, is that both Cralix and Mag''stula are weirdlings. Given to a devil as an infant. Weirdlings don''t join covens. They are rogues. So they''ll be alone to fight except for that miserable ?rdelon, but he''s no bother.

    These two Witches are likely wed to Beelzebub, but I can find out definitively. That knowledge may help us in our battles.

    ¡°Now, feeling that motherly bond, even if only for a moment, will untether Cralix from her devil Lord. At that instant, you must be ready to strike. Do you understand?¡±

    We answered, ¡®Yes,¡¯ in unison. ¡°So what is your first task?¡±

    ¡°To find her mother,¡± Janiver responded.

    ¡°Yes, her mother, Veralia is her name. I''ve no idea where she might be, but you should be able to scry that knowledge, young Wizardress.¡±

    And now, my friends, the hour of war is nigh. What, three days hence?¡±

    ¡°About that, Your Majesty, I answered.

    Janiver stepped forward and said, ¡°I''ll be by tomorrow with the amber, Your Majesty. We can swap some ideas, I hope.¡±

    We were escorted out by two skeleton warriors who walked us to the lychgate. I think we both were feeling a little better about our chances after that meeting.

 Volume 1, Chapter 35: Mother Hunting

    As fortune would have it, we were very lucky in finding people familiar with Veralia. Our first leads led us to the Bard College''s Art Department where we spoke with a boyish looking professor.

    ¡°Veralia! Veralia? By the gods of course, we all remember Veralia. She was the muse for an entire graduating class. Everyone wanted to paint her and write songs and poetry dedicated to her. She was an epic beauty, a generational beauty. Why she chose ?rdelon, we''ll likely never know. She had dozens upon dozens of suitors. That''s her over there,¡± he said, pointing to an oil painting hanging on the wall near a window looking out on students enjoying the summer sun.

    My vocabulary can''t begin to describe the beauty of the woman in the painting. Short, raven-black hair, big blue eyes, alabaster skin. I couldn''t take my gaze away.

    The professor continued. ¡°Veralia was, I think, attracted to the teacher, student, the older guy trope. And ?rdelon presented himself as this sort of melancholic, tragic figure. Plenty of mystery and all that. Valeria found out much later how terribly average ?rdelon was and, I think, that''s why she left him. Why she left Cralix with him, I don''t know. It didn''t make sense then or now.

    As interesting as this story was, we were in a rush to find her. ¡°Do you know where she is?¡±

    ¡°The very last I heard, she was in Wikehold, working as a librarian at the Academy of Illusory Magic. I would encourage you to let her be. She''s worked hard to distance herself from Cralix and her reputation.¡±

    ¡°Would that we could, Sir, but this is a pressing matter. Well, Janiver, we have our next destination.¡±

    I''ll say this for Janiver, she cast her spells in a fraction of the time it took ?rdelon. We were in Wikehold in an instant, at my family home. Pharris was in the great room scolding two of the maids, letting them know full well that he expected Lady Bascombe to be back home at any moment.

    ¡°It will be a little longer than that, I said, giving Pharris quite the fright.

    ¡°Master Tendil, what a pleasant surprise, and¡­he said looking to Janiver and expecting an introduction. Janiver this is our majordomo,  Pharris, Pharris, this is Janiver, Head Wizard to Queen May of the Gray Elves. Both maids were staring holes through Janiver. Likely the most exotic thing they''d ever seen.

    ¡°It''s quite an honor Miss Janiver.¡± Pharris said, bowing.

    ¡°May I get the two of you anything to eat or drink.¡±

    Janiver spoke up quickly, ¡°We''ll be up late I would assume, Mister Bascombe? Perhaps some coffee and biscuits?¡±

    ¡°That sounds splendid. Yes, Mister Pharris, as she said, thank you.¡±

    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    I had Pharris pull out a map of the city and show us how to get to the Academy of Illusory Magic. It was in the East Wall District, a fairly rough neighborhood. I had Jamiver summon a cloak for herself so that she didn''t draw too much attention. Her beauty on top of being a Gray Elf could bring the wrong kind of notice.

    But, we made it to the school easily enough. Plenty of students helped us find the library. As we entered through that room¡¯s double doors, I couldn''t help but notice a woman look our way then briskly duck into a study room behind some of the stacks. She''s making it easy on us, I thought. When we got to the room, she was blowing out candles, attempting to blend into the shadows.

    When she realized she''d been found, she turned to us and said, ¡°No, no, no! I''m done with that. You can go back to the Taliswood and tell anyone else that needs to know. Is it Cralix or ?rdelon this time?¡±

    I spoke, ¡°It''s both I''m afraid.¡± She didn''t seem in the least shocked when I said this. ¡°Have they a history together since you left them?¡± ¡°Since I left them? " she asked incredulously.  ¡°How did that devil get the story flipped so easily?¡± She seemed angry, frustrated.

    ¡°Is that not what happened? I asked.

    ¡°Of course not, you idiot! ¡° Several students outside the room began making ¡°Shhhh!¡± sounds. I stuck my head out the door and apologized for what it was worth.

    ¡°Listen,¡± I began, "we''re here by order of Queen May¡­

    ¡°Who has no authority here whatsoever! ¡°Veralia interjected.

    ¡°No, of course not.¡± I answered. Let us tell you the whole story as we know it so you might understand better why we''re here. After hearing that, she sat down. ¡°None of this is her,¡± she said in a whisper.

    ¡°I don''t know everything that has been said about me, but ?rdelon seduced me when I was his student. I guess that was twenty-five years ago, yes. I was eighteen. From Wikehold and had never been in such an exotic environment. I went along with the seduction. I''m guilty of that. But I didn''t want a child. He forced that on me and I couldn''t stop him. He watched me day and night to make sure I didn''t go to the hermit, Avricon. I wanted to end it. I had no idea why he wanted a child. Looking through his books and manuscripts, I came to realize that he had dreams of becoming a Lich. But that still didn''t explain Cralix.¡±

    ¡°You know I''m a Wizard as well? Not as powerful as you, Janiver, nor ?rdelon. But I have strong magic. I want to use it to kill him, because what I found next chilled me to the bone. You already know, Janiver, so this is for you, Mister Bascombe. When a Wizard ascends into Lich form, they must store their soul, their essence in a phylactery, a container that keeps it safe, if it''s destroyed so is the Lich. The more I read through his things I uncovered secrets that don''t need to see the light of day, and it became clear, Cralix is meant to be his phylactery. For, if he were to do so and then made her a Lich with himself as her phylactery, he would be truly indestructible, immortal in the truest sense of the word. That is his aim. Whether or not Cralix knows? She could very well be complicit. An ascension like this would have them both very near godhood.¡±

    I was dumbfounded. ¡°This is so unlike the ?rdelon I thought I knew. I counted him as a friend. When did he turn into this monster?¡±

    ¡°Before I met him, in my first year at school, he was different from what I can gather.¡± Veralia confided. Speaking with some of his servants, it became apparent that he had very strong feelings for Queen May. To the point where he was planning a proposal. She wasn''t cruel about it, but she did rebuff him, and it caused him to collapse. He has a tremendous ego and it was simply devastating. Word got around what had happened, and he felt mocking eyes on him wherever he went, heard non-existent laughter and derision. His melancholy was not an affectation as many say it was. He was broken.

    ¡°One thing still doesn''t make sense. Why are my parents involved in this?¡±

    Veralia¡¯s face went dark. ¡°I''d prefer not to speculate, Mister Bascombe, but to ascend, sacrifices must be made, souls fed to the Darkness to satiate its hunger when the Wizard deprives it of their own. The sacrifices must be meaningful, and your pain would make them so.¡±

    I was feeling desperate. ¡°We have no idea what sort of time frame we''re dealing with.When would this attempted ascension occur, Veralia?¡±

    ¡°I can''t say for certain, Mister Bascombe, but it''s my sense that they''ll try to take advantage of the chaos from the upcoming siege of Nez Ambr¨ªl to gather as much of the amber as they can. That''s the other thing, they can''t pull off magic of the magnitude required for this ascension without the Mana from the amber. It''s impossible . But if they do get it, the ritual could be carried out at their leisure.

    ¡°Maybe we can slow down their plan if we can get to your parents before the plan can be carried out. How long do we have before the war begins?¡±

    ¡°But a day or two, perhaps three,¡± I answered. You must come back with us Veralia, please. You''re instrumental in forming a plan, and we still need to be in Nez Ambr¨ªl for the first waves to be brung against her.¡±

    ¡°I''ll come. This evil must be defeated and I must do what I can to see that happen.¡±

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 36: Higher Powers

    Janiver and I returned to a familiar scene. May, Pelisir, Margrin, and Field Marshal Every¨®n gathered around their crystal ball with a young male elf in grey robes, apparently Janiver''s stand-in, scrying for them.

    May looked at me angrily, ¡°Mister Bascombe, I''ll see you in my rooms, immediately!¡±

    My heart was nearly beating out of my chest. What had I done? My thoughts were racing and I could think of nothing. She was furious.

    As I followed her up the stairs to her rooms, no words were spoken. We stepped into her sitting room and she spun on me, grabbing my face with her hands she kissed me deeply and passionately.

    ¡°We don''t have time for this, My Love, I just needed to taste your lips. I''ve been missing you so terribly. I love you, My Dear.¡±

    Another quick peck on my lips and she took my hand and led me back downstairs. ¡°I love you too, My Heart,¡± I whispered to the back of her beautiful head.

    Janiver was missing when we returned. ¡°Where has she gone? I asked. In his deep baritone, Every¨®n told me to watch the crystal ball. In it, I could see a large clearing in the forest. Hundreds of men, Swalesians, busily sawing and hammering, assembling trebuchets from freshly fallen redwoods. There were already five completed behind them. Suddenly, there came a great whistling sound, growing louder and louder until the entire scene in the ball erupted in fire and explosions. Every¨®n grinned. ¡°She has called down a Meteor Swarm on their engineers. That will set them back a day or two!¡±

    Little Janiver had done this. The destruction was absolute. Flaming bodies littered the ground and the completed trebuchets, siege towers and prepared lumber were nothing but embers and ash.

    ¡°First blood is ours!¡± Every¨®n yelled to cheers from the room.

    May was smiling, but you could see that she didn''t want to get too excited about a relatively small victory. At the same time, more cheers as one of Janiver''s underlings completed the reading of a scroll and those around the crystal ball watched a similar fate befall the Gnolls in the East of the Wood. In the ensuing chaos, the Sun Elves executed a charge of their heavy cavalry into the rear of the Gnolls¡¯ camp, killing hundreds and setting fire to whatever would burn.

    In the West, King Cromar¡¯s army came out of Feersland and attacked the mercenary camp from their rear as the High Elves began loosing their trebuchet shot into the mercenary front lines, boulders of clay, peat, and rock coated in flaming pitch caused significant unsteadiness in the mercenaries'' morale. Moon Elf horse archers began harassing their rear flanks and mercenary officers began acting on their own accord, chasing the Elves off only to leave the pursuers cut off from the main host to be picked apart.

    As trumpets blared, the same sound that had announced the arrival of Prince Anoresti only a few days earlier, the enemy on all fronts began to withdraw. Not completely, but to spots out of range of trebuchet and bow.

    Watching all of this unfold in the crystal ball, a valet suddenly appeared, tapping on my arm. ¡°Sir, Her Majesty requests Your and others'' presence in the ballroom at once,  and don''t dilly dally.¡± He said that last bit rather forcefully.

    ¡°Did you add that last part, Timmins, or was it her?¡±

    ¡°Oh Sir, it was her, of course. I''m not quite so impudent.¡±

    I gave the lad a royal and he ran off happily.

    So, what was all this about?

    May, Margrin, Pelisir, Janiver, and Veralia were listening intently to Field Marshal Every¨®n as he pointed out various enemy formations on the large scale map. Two others were with them now, I recognized one as Mother Felistia . The other must be her counterpart, Father Vastila. Looking skyward for assistance, were we?

    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    ¡°Ah, Mister Bascombe!¡± May called out to me, "Allow me to introduce Mother Felistia and Father Vastila.¡±

    ¡°Your Grace and Your Grace, it''s an honor.¡±

    May went on, They''re here to offer some valuable insight and to deliver some good news, I''m told.

    ¡°That''s correct, Your Majesty,¡± Vastil said, "we''ve been conducting our own experiments with the included amber. First, you must limit our access to it. The stuff has a powerful draw. As strong as we both are already, it could make us like gods. Power -crazed gods with no checks. That would be as bad if not worse than seeing it happen to Mag''stula or Cralix.¡±

    ¡°And what''s the good news? I asked, dryly.

    ¡°Well, Mister Bascombe, we have divine magic that allows us to call upon the god we serve in times of trouble. Sometimes they hear, most times, they do not. A god can always choose to ignore you. The included amber has given us a conduit which allows us to speak directly with ¨¦lois. But, that''s not entirely good news just yet. For now it''s just news. Unfortunately, he is as embattled as we are. This is no isolated thing we are enduring; this is a brazen attempt by the most powerful forces of evil to wrest control of all of Creation from the gods of good. They seek to remake our world as a tenth layer of Hell. The nine sitting archdukes of Hell, Anislaya, Ba¡¯al, the Lord of Shadows, Milial, the Death Hag, Siren, the Tainted, Zinurial, and the Black King will open a new plane to accept the triumvirate of Mag''stula, ?rdelon and Cralix. The Material Plane will be no longer. In its place will be the Corruption.¡±

    ¡°I''ll let that all sink in. We won''t bear witness to any of that war, but make no mistake, that war and ours are one and the same. ¨¦lois is not alone, he has many good gods as allies. His is not an impossible task, but we must do what we can to help. Of course, eliminating ?rdelon and Cralix is key as is getting rid of Mag''stula. But that responsibility falls on the shoulders of the White Queen, Mater Carca.¡±

    ¡°We are here, Felistia and myself, to discuss the destruction of the would-be triumvirate.¡±

    ¡°Do we know where Cralix and ?rdelon have your parents, Mister Bascombe?¡±

    ¡°We haven''t discussed it, Your Grace, but likely at their seaside villa in Sandlise.¡±

    ¡°Mister Ephisiery¨®n, we need the help of the Syndicate in this matter, will they offer it?¡±

    ¡°Everybody really does know everything around here,¡± Margrin mumbled. Out loud, he said ¡°I believe so Your Grace.

    Father Vastila continued, have one of Janiver''s underlings teleport you to Rathkin immediately. They need to discreetly surround that villa so that we know who is there, who comes, and who goes.

    Just then the doors to the ballroom were thrown open and two guards entered, throwing a young Elf, shackled, to his knees before the assembly.

    ¡°Ah,¡± said May, ¡°young Mister Phaelry¨®n, we wondered where you had gotten off to.¡±

    ¡°Who is this?¡± I asked.

    ¡°Mister Phaelry¨®n is an assistant to ?rdelon. He''s been missing from his teaching duties. What is the situation here?¡± she asked the senior guard.

    ¡°Your Majesty, he was in ?rdelon''s workshop retrieving a large satchel of included amber from a hiding place beneath the floorboards. We caught him as he was about to read a Teleportation scroll. He would have gotten away if it hadn''t been for the vigilance of one of your valets, Master Waldinor.¡±

    ¡°Waldinor,¡± the Queen declared, ¡°you are now my personal valet and will be given a medal for bravery at the earliest convenience. Thank you Good Sir!¡±

    The boy bowed at the waist and left the room looking as if he couldn''t be happier without hurting himself.

    ¡°Guards, take this wretched creature to the stockade!¡±

    ¡°Don''t despair. We know where they are Mister Phaelry¨®n! Your actions today were for naught.¡±

    Over his shoulder, the Wizard said scornfully,  ¡°Oh, but you''re mistaken, my Dear Queen! You''ve been so worried about these armies that you''ve neglected your common sense,¡± he laughed a ghoulish laugh, ¡°That''s the first lesson in watching a magician. You must pay attention to both hands!¡±

    As tough as she wanted to appear, these last words shook the Queen. I think they shook us all. What had we missed? Or was he bluffing?

    May was emphatic, ¡°Everyone go over everything in your heads! What could he have meant?¡±

    Just then, another guard came rushing into the room, running up to Field Marshal Every¨®n and stabbing him in the armpit where his armor had a gap. The guard quickly ran to the door and made a gesture with his hand. Suddenly, he was an Aardgnoll, a female in a black cloak, still holding the dagger.

    ¡°This is for you all!¡± she said as she dropped a small scroll on the floor. Then she vanished, blending into shadow then gone. Just that fast, Pelisir, kneeling over the Field Marshal¡¯s body said ¡°He''s dead! That blade must have been coated in a very lethal poison, ice toad mucus or the like.

    I rushed to grab the scroll the assassin had dropped. Opening it slowly in case it was coated with a poison powder or similar lethal trap, I could see it was covered in an elegant, hand-written script.

    ¡°Mister Badcombe, will you please read us what''s in the scroll? May asked.

    ¡°Very well,¡± I cleared my throat,

    ¡°You will note that I spared no expense, and went to the best assassins in the world so that this would be as quick and clean as possible. Likely while you''re reading this, I am in the act of relieving you of your stockpile of included amber. Cralix and I have an immediate need if we want to take your city from you too. And we shall. A nightmare is coming. I''m sorry our relationship had to end on such a sour note, but you couldn''t offer me what the Devil Princes have. I''ll be on a throne built on the dust of your civilization. Perhaps in another lifetime, you may choose more wisely. Alas, we only get this one though. Cheers.

    ¡°And it''s signed ?rdelon.¡±

    ¡°Why that treacherous  monster!¡± May yelled. ¡°He''ll die for this! I''ll pray to ¨¦lois'' for his painful death until one of us is gone! And it damn well won''t be me!¡±

    ¡°Janiver,¡± she bellowed, "can you check the amber with your ball?¡±

    ¡°Of course, Your Majesty.¡± A moment later, she reported, ¡°Gone, My Queen. She must have used an empowered Transportation spell to move that kind of weight. Impressive.¡±

    ¡°Why wasn''t that better protected?¡±

    Pelisir answered her, ¡°We talked about it, Your Majesty, but the vaults were never built. Things have moved too quickly."

    Then the fault is mine and mine alone, Count Pelisir.¡±

    ¡°Janiver, get in touch with the High Elves and Wood Elves. Gather every ounce of included amber you can find and have it brought here.¡±

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 37: The Gambit

    An exhaustive search resulted in a fair amount of included amber. We just didn''t know how much we would need.

    In my rooms to get a couple of hours of sleep, a knock came on the door. I was surprised to find Father Vastila standing there with a beautiful mahogany box. He instructed a valet to bring us a tea service and proceeded to take a seat on my couch, putting the box on the coffee table.

    ¡°I hope I find you well, Mister Bascombe.¡±

    ¡°As well as can be expected, Your Grace. I''m very tired.¡±

    ¡°Well, this won''t take long, Sir. Open the box.¡± I did as he said and discovered a black-tipped crossbow bolt with purple fletching.

    ¡°Tell me what I''m looking at, Your Grace.¡±

    ¡°Touch it, Mister Bascombe.¡±

    I did, and quickly pulled my hand away. The thing was pulsing with an energy like a heartbeat. When I touched it, just for that brief moment, sigils that had been etched into the bolt''s point and shaft had glowed with a radiance like the sun. Getting over my reticence, I picked the thing up and found it surprisingly heavy.

    ¡°I''m sure you can tell, Mister Bascombe, this is no ordinary crossbow bolt. I know it seems like a small thing, but iron, especially meteorite iron like this, is one of two things that can really hurt a Witch when they are in an elevated form which Cralix will certainly try to assume. The other thing that hurts them badly is salt. You''ll note the thin layer of a white crystalline substance covering the thing¡­¡±

    ¡°Listen to me closely, Mister Bascombe, this bolt must hit her directly in the heart there isn''t another chance. We must get her in the process of Ascension when she''ll be momentarily weak. The thing is blessed by ¨¦lois himself. You won''t be on your own though, Sir. I''ll be there with Mother Felistia and Janiver, and we three have our own surprises planned for these villains. Whatever happens, they must be killed. Their heads cut off and thrown into the salt sea. Their bodies buried upside down in sacred ground. We normally wouldn''t have to go to these extremes, but Cralix is bound to the Black King, she''s no normal Witch. That''s from where her power is drawn, the evil side of the Weave, and it''s strong enough to make her nearly like him. So hitting her when she''s at her absolute most vulnerable means everything for our victory.¡±

    ¡°Okay, so no pressure,¡± I deadpanned. ¡°When does all this happen?¡±

    ¡°We need to hear back from your Mister Ephisiery¨®n and his Syndicate friends. Hopefully tomorrow night.

    After a late lunch, I went back to the map room. The same crew was still there. May greeted me warmly, even giving me a slight hug which thoroughly surprised me. Then she went to the center of the room.

    ¡°Listen everyone, I know there''s talk about me and Mister Bascombe. We are in a state of war and we may not be victorious. That''s just a harsh reality but you''ve seen the numbers stacked against us. I, for one, won''t live my life in secret knowing it could be over in a few days¡¯ time. I hereby decree that Mister Tendil Liste Bascombe, Esquire, late of Wikehold, Feersland is now my royal consort, we shall be wed this evening by Father Vastila here in the ballroom. It''s not the wedding a little girl dreams of but it''s to the man I dream of when he''s not here. From this day forward, he is to be addressed as Prince Tendil and Your Majesty.¡± Then she came over and kissed me so that I felt all of her love for me.

    There was scattered applause around the room, then May said, ¡°Now back to work everyone. We still have a war to win! We meet here at seven bells for the wedding!¡± The applause turned to cheers, and everything went back to normal just like that.

    I jokingly said to May, ¡°I accept.¡±.

    ¡°I know you do, My Prince.¡± And she kissed me again.

    ¡°We''ll be wed while the mercenary army is being dealt with. That shan''t take long and you sleep with me tonight.¡±

    I coughed and my face must have been blood red. Yes, no pressure.

    At just that moment, Margrin appeared in the middle of the room, promptly bent over and threw up the contents of his stomach and possibly that of someone else''s.

    Janiver said, ¡°That will happen with too much teleportation.¡±

    ¡°I need some tea,¡± Margrin croaked.

    The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

    I looked to the nearest valet, ¡°Timmins, please fetch a tea service for Mister Ephisiery¨®n, and thank you.¡± He replied ¡°Yes, Your Majesty,¡± and sped off.

    Margrin looked slightly perturbed, ¡°Cheeky little thing, isn''t he?¡± I laughed, he wasn''t being cheeky, Sir. Queen May and I are to be wed right here, this evening at seven bells.

    ¡°Why, Bascombe, er I mean, Your Majesty, you do move quickly don''t you?¡± and he clapped me hard on my back.

    ¡°How go things on the fronts?¡±

    I got him caught up on everything and we sat at a table in the corner while he had his tea.

    ¡°What''s the situation in Sandlise?¡±

    ¡°It''s as we suspected. They stay in the villa. She working on her demons and he working on new spells with all of that included amber. They''ve done nothing to indicate any action on their part.¡±

    ¡°Okay, My Friend, we go in tomorrow night. We''ll have your syndicate associates create a diversion. Just something to get Cralix and ?rdelon off their guard for a moment. Did you see where my parents were being kept?¡±

    ¡°Yes, they''re in the middle room of three bedrooms on the second floor.

    ¡°And what will I be doing while this grand plan plays out?¡± Margrin asked.

    ¡°I''ll give you a score of iron-tipped crossbow bolts ¡­ ¡°Arrows!¡± Margrin interrupted insistently. ¡°Yes, very well, arrows it is. The iron works wonders against devils and Witches. You just stand on whatever promontory suits your purpose and snipe away at anything not on our side. Perhaps we can find you a magic bow.¡±

    ¡°That would be splendid, Your Majesty.¡±

    As seven bells struck, May entered the ballroom resplendent in a silver and lavender gossamer dress, silver slippers, her hair  perfect. I had changed into one of the several outfits given to me by Margrin and Pelisir. We were married then in front of the people who mattered to us the most, though I wish my parents had been there. As the nuptials ended, we kissed and headed back to our respective rooms to change and get back to the reality of the situation.

    I got back just as things were about to go south for the mercenary army. The trebuchets behind the wall of Nez Clar? had been set up about twenty yards back, so the illusion was that the mercenary tents were just out of their range. When the trebuchets were moved up, it put a good number of their soldiers in harm''s way. This was the case for the archers as well. On the command of ¡°Loose!¡± A flaming hell began to rain down on the enemy encampment. Moon Elf horse archers stormed through picking off individuals here and there, the scene was utter chaos. Then the Barrow Elf cavalry came through on their zombie horses and a full blown panic ensued. Field Marshal Royst, the High Elf commander, held the Hobgoblins back, seeing that the deed was done. Better to conserve them for the Swalesians once they had their siege of Iln¨ªst and Nez Ambr¨ªl underway. The mercenary army was no longer a threat as their few survivors began the long trek back to Feersland. along the way, they passed the troops of King Cromar, 50,000 strong to help break a siege. The young monarch would take this opportunity to make a name for himself in the West.

    We had to prepare for the Gnolls. Still roughly five miles out, we could see their ranks of torches slowly advancing through the trees. This was Janiver''s chance to contribute further.

    She began her ritual, kneeling in a chalk ring surrounded by cryptic runes and sigils, intoning krushmak egtoblas entervil. The sky became a mass of black clouds, roiling, lightning coming out in all directions, and when the bottom opened up, a deluge came like none had ever seen. There were flash floods roaring through the Gnolls'' ranks, sweeping many into the river, and soldiers being nearly incinerated by wild bolts of lightning that arced from Gnoll to Gnoll. Their screams were hideous, a blend of howls and a laughing sound they make when they are feeling aggressive or anxious. The cacophony, heard over the steady thrum of thunder, was enough to drive one mad.

    But their spirit wasn''t in it. Had Mag''stula been there, their morale would have been unflappable. She was back in Yis-Gl¨¢z, likely engineering her Ascension and preparing for her showdown with the White Queen. Cries went up from the walls as the Gnolls began to retreat. There would be no Elf flesh on this day.

    Watching from the crystal ball, both May and I had donned our armor. If I looked half as good as she did, then I was a hell of a sight. But it wasn''t for show. We were talking about skirmishing the Swalesians as they approached. But they didn''t. We waited most of the night, and Iln¨ªst was never threatened. In Janiver¡¯s ball, there was only fog where the Swalesians should have been. Their Wizards at work.

    May and I decided to retire, leaving instructions to be notified immediately of any developments. Being a gentleman, I won''t belabor the fact that our night was incredible until¡­

    Around three bells, May and I both jerked upright in bed. It took me a minute to realize where I was, but I didn''t get the chance to savor that moment. In the distance, we began to hear sounds so disturbing that we both shot out of bed and put our armor back on. I could say they were screams, and some were. Like cats doing their mating ritual but mixed with a mother giving birth, a child burning themselves on a hot stove, the squeal of a pig. It was the most ungodly thing I could imagine. Echoing through the still night air.

    ¡°What devilry is this?¡± May asked of me.

    ¡°I believe we shall find out soon enough, Love. Whether we want to or not. It''s not the Swalesians. It doesn''t sound like something of our world, does it?¡±

    ¡°No, Darling, it sounds devilish. Let''s get to the ballroom, quickly.¡±

    When we got to the ballroom, it was full and busy, soldiers, valets, Wizards, running about in a state of panic. Janiver and Pelisir were at the crystal ball.

    ¡°Good morning, Your Majesties! You''re just in time to try to help us figure out what the hell is going on.¡±

    ¡°What is going on?¡± I asked Pelisir.

    ¡°That heavy fog bank we saw move in last night. You see, here,¡± he pointed to the ball, ¡°it''s been moving towards us. And you can see, the thing is full of beastly animal shapes that you can just barely make out before they vanish again into the fog.¡±

    ¡°Someone fetch Father Vastila and Mother Felistia¡±, Pelisir commanded, ¡°whatever this unholiness is ¡­ sound the call to arms and alert the Gatekeepers. We''ve holy blades to put to the test this evening I believe.¡±

    ¡±I''ve heard this sound before, in my adventuring days, Agruzar, creatures summoned from the Nine Hells. This is what Cralix has been crafting. They aren''t normally such a horrific challenge, but with the included amber, who knows?¡±

    May addressed Pelisir directly.

    ¡°You know you''re in charge of the army now. Don''t go getting yourself killed. Next in line is me, and I''m a warrior, not an officer.

    When Father Vastila and Mother Felistia arrived, Pelisir directed them, ¡°It looks like this first wave is going to be of an infernal nature. These are Agruzar and I pray you''re familiar. Normally pretty low in the pecking order as far as devils go, but we don''t know what to expect yet. They''re birthed out of amber magic. You and your priests need to get down to the Imgril Sh¨¢r and back me up. I''ll be with my Gatekeepers. Right now, the only attack is this one from the South. They''ve bypassed Iln¨ªst for the time being.¡±

    ¡°Actually, Count Pelisir,¡± Janiver broke in, ¡°a large Swalesian host is approaching the Wood Elf city, they''re under heavy attack from the tree snipers, but there are just so many of them.¡±

    Pelisir was already in full armor. He looked to one of the valets, ¡°Have my squire bring my horse to the gate and tell him I''ll be there shortly!¡± With a ¡°Yes, My Lord,¡± the boy was off.

    ¡°I must get to the gate. My Queen, you will be in command while I fight, are you good?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Palisir, I am very good. Please don''t make me wait; I need to get out there, it''s been far too long.¡±

    ¡°Yes, it has, My Warrior Queen. When the Swalesians arrive, okay?¡±

    ¡°If I must.¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow, you may,  once again, be a stubborn Queen; today you must be an obedient soldier.

    Father Vastila said, ¡°We are ready to go out with you, Count Pelisir.¡±

    ¡°Very well, to the gate!¡±

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 38: The Gate Must Hold

    As Pelisir and several other soldiers departed for the gate, it was May, Janiver, and me on the crystal ball with Margrin sleeping off his teleportation sickness. The view for now was Iln¨ªst. The Swalesian strategy for their siege had been seriously affected by the loss of their siege engines and, for now, row after row of Swalesian archers fired flaming arrows into the wall of the city while Wood Elf Druids kept up a steady deluge of rain to douse the fires. They were getting nowhere and achieving nothing.

    The rain had the extra benefit of eliminating the solidity of any ground along the wall, thus prohibiting scaling ladders. Siege towers couldn''t roll. Men couldn''t get a foothold to use a battering ram. So they all stood in the rain and waited, but the Druids could keep this up all day.

    Back in Nez Ambr¨ªl, things were about to grow dire. Forms began to fly out of the bank of fog. Grotesque shapes that seemed to be mocking the Human body, part monkey, part toad, with rows of vicious teeth, and bat wings screaming into the night sky.

    These Agruzar were definitely larger than what Pelisir had described. Nearly Human-sized.

    Father Vastila stood on the portion of the city''s wall that went over the gate, the Gatekeepers, armed and armored to the teeth, their horses in gleaming steel barding, stood below, their steeds stamping the ground and whinnying.

    One of the beasts came hurtling out of the fog and grabbed an archer standing only a few feet away from Father Vastila, carried him up a hundred feet or more and dropped him into the ranks of the Gatekeepers leaving him impaled on a lance.  The devil screamed in victory.

    Mother Felistia wasn''t far away either, and holding her holy symbol, a seven-pointed star amulet, in her left hand, extended her right and released what can only be described as a concentrated beam of pure sunlight at the creature who gave a quick and abbreviated shriek before it simply vanished.

    Below, Pelisir called out ¡°Gatekeepers!¡± and the gates began to open.

    Father Vastila held his hands about a foot apart and began making motions like he was forming something between them. Slowly a brilliant ball of light formed and gained solidity and definition. He held it there, waiting, and when the gates swung far enough open, 250 Gatekeepers shot from the gap like an arrow from a bow at the wall of fog. Only then did Father Vastila hurl his orb into the devils¡¯ midst. There was a brief <i>schwump</i> sound as the thing imploded before releasing a light of such intensity that the whole forest was lit like daytime for a moment. The screams of the creatures being disintegrated carried through the night sky, reaching both friend and foe alike, either encouraging or debilitating for one or the other.

    The Gatekeepers crashed through the fog, emerging on the other side of the square formation. Some were missing, others were covered in black ichor. The 200 or so remaining let out yells and whoops of victory that sent chills down many thousand Swalesian backs, shaking their already thin confidence. These men were driven in combat by fear, not pride or honor, and their morale reflected that.

    The whole time the Swalesian infantry had been in the Taliswood, they had been steadily picked off, one man at a time, by relentless sniping from the limbs of the massive redwoods, circled by packs of Moon Elf horse archers and their stragglers run down by the zombie cavalry of the Barrow Elves.

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    As they continued to bypass Iln¨ªst, it was obvious that the Swalesian commanders sought to decapitate the Elves by taking Nez Ambr¨ªl. The harassment they were enduring in the blackness of the rain-soaked night was beginning to cause some of the weaker Swalesian units to waver. Men were beginning to break and run in small groups, and the Heksa Kral, from horseback with their great two-handed scimitars, began killing the deserters, further weakening morale.

    Had the Swalesians been under the command of a more modern military mind, the night should have been theirs, but their general, Abdur¡¯frit, at 75, was stuck in a mindset where everything was frontal assaults and charges and fear and discipline were the only bywords that mattered. A soldier should be proud to die for the Mouth of God.

    By the time the Hobgoblin army had flanked the Swalesians, Dwarves began to appear, from the South as did the Human troops out of Feersland with their signature chainmail kilts, spears and shields, from the West. When the entire Swalesian host began to break, the Heksa Kral were beginning to be pulled from their saddles and slaughtered, Swalesian commanders chased down and killed.

    What should have been an easy victory was turning into a rout. With the Heksa Kral out of the picture, many of the Swalesians began to surrender en masse.

    Tracking down their senior commander in the field was no easy task. He was either hiding or had run off. Shortly, four common soldiers brought the man forward, cowering in fear and pleading for his life.

    ¡°Do you speak the Commons Tongue, Sir?¡±

    ¡°Just a bit, My Lord, and not very good. Thank you for your generous offer. I surrender my troops to your kindness and charity.¡±

    ¡° I''ve not offered anything yet, General ¡­¡±

    ¡°Yaq¡¯tib, My Lord, General Yaq¡¯tib, fourth son of Ashter¡¯til from the city of Prim.¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes,¡± Palisir said dismissively, "you are not my concern this night. I''m going to have some of your men escort you so that you don''t run. I want you to go get your supreme commander and bring him here to discuss the terms of surrender. Tell him, if he tries to escape, he''ll never make it out of the Taliswood, not alive at least.¡±

    ¡°Yes, My Lord. I will see that it is done.¡±

    Thirty minutes later, hoofbeats could be heard coming up the Forest Road. The Swalesian delegation. One man on horseback was hooded and bound to his horse. General Yaq''tib¡¯s horse sidled up to the man and the commander jerked off the hood. It was Prince Anoresti.

    ¡°Where is Abdur¡¯frit? And why are you here, Anoresti? Looking to gloat over your victory?¡±

    ¡°Just tell me what are your terms, Elf!¡±

    ¡°You, shut your mouth you craven son of a whore! You are in a position to demand nothing!¡±

    You know, Prince, your perception of yourself and your abilities is dangerously out of sync with reality. You''ve been here twice. Both times you''ve suffered embarrassing defeat! People laugh at the name Anoresti behind your back, and you still don''t learn! Dumb and arrogant won''t get you far in life unless, of course, your father is the Khan.¡±

    The surrendered troops who could speak enough Common laughed as Anoresti looked like he was about to burst into flames with anger.

    ¡°Here are your terms, you will completely disarm back at your staging area. You will take enough food to get you back to Swalesia. You will take your barges with you, but you will first release every slave on board. You will be a rower, My Prince. Your barges will not stop until you reach your home country. Are we clear?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Pelisir, we are clear. But this is a death sentence for me. I had Father give me this command despite the protests of his advisors. He''ll have me executed.¡±

    ¡°I''ll make you a deal, Prince, give me a reason why I should care and I''ll let you go. If it''s not good enough, I''ll allow your men to kill you right here. Who do you think would be the more compassionate?¡±

    Not saying another word, he hung his head and his men took him back to the staging area.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 39: Gods at War

    Watching all of this unfold through the crystal ball, everyone was elated, but I could tell how useless May felt. She wanted battle, and it was all over far too soon.

    As a consolation, I said ¡°We still must face Cralix and ?rdelon. Likely more of her devils as well. Don''t be so cavalier with your life, My Love, You aren''t by yourself any longer and I don''t want to lose you. I''m the one who goes first, remember?¡±

    ¡°Yes, my beautiful flower,¡± she joked.

    But then the entire tree on which the Palace was built began to tremble. Not even knowing what more I should be fearing I grabbed May and held her to me.

    There were yells coming from outside, so we stepped out onto a veranda to see what was happening. Everyone on the forest floor was looking up into the sky and pointing with gasps of horror and amazement.

    What they were seeing was two enormous forms hovering above the city, each figure swinging a great sword the size of a redwood.

    We weren''t supposed to be able to see this. The one on my left had to be ¨¦lois, a Gray Elf as tall as the highest bell tower in Wikehold with flowing lavender robes, his sword giving off a blinding white glow.

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    And the one on my right must be the Black King. He''s impossible to describe. Anytime I thought I saw definition to his face or body, the blackness was so profound that it was as if my sight had been taken from me. All I could make out was his sword, throbbing with dark energy, and a gigantic iron crown of irregular design.

    The two were causing such a disruption in the thin membrane that separates the planes, that the image of them fighting had broken through to the Material Plane.

    As we stood there, watching, spellbound, Margrin finally showed up.

    ¡°Wow! I guess I''ve missed a lot.¡±

    ¡°It''s quite alright, My Friend. Somehow we managed. But we need you now. It''s time to pay Cralix and ?rdelon a final visit.¡±

    I had the valets gather Father Vastila and Mother Felistia. May, Janiver, Margrin, Veralia, and I were all ready.

    ¡°Janiver, have we all the scrolls we''ll need?¡±

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty, we''ve got everything we need.¡±

    Gah! I slapped myself on the forehead. I''d forgotten the crossbow and bolt!

    Retrieving them, we were ready to depart.

    ¡°We all know our place in the plan?¡± I asked those present. Margrin, impatiently answered for everyone, ¡°Yes, Your Majesty, please let''s get going!¡±

    And with a wave of her hand, in an instant, Janiver had us in Sandlise behind a giant boulder overlooking the villa.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Chapter 40: Ascension Day

    We all appeared right behind two men, crouched and looking through telescopes at the villa. You could see with the naked eye that Cralix was in her workroom doing whatever she needed to do to prepare for her Ascension.

    I recognized one of the Syndicate men there. It was Marts who had accompanied us to the fights with his trusty bronze telescope.

    As soon as I spoke, they nearly jumped out of their skins.

    I whispered, ¡°<i>Marts, don''t be afraid, it''s Bascombe and some friends.¡±</i>

    <i>     ¡°Good heavens, Mister Bascombe! I nearly swallowed my tongue!¡±</i>

    <i>     ¡°Shhhhhhhh! Keep it down, Good Sir. We''re coming to the most important part of this whole thing. Have you seen anything out of the ordinary? For them I mean, not typical ordinary.¡±</i>

    <i>     ¡°Well, no, Sir. They''ve been doing exactly the same thing all day, like clockwork. Occasionally we''ll see one of those devils pop up but that''s all.¡±</i>

    <i>     ¡°Might I use your telescope for a moment, Mister Marts?¡±</i>

    <i>     ¡°Well certainly, Sir here ¡­¡±</i>

    <i>     ¡°Wait a moment, My Good Man, I may have something better.¡±</i>

    I pulled my Gem of Pure Sight from the pommel of my rapier and put it to my eye to get a closer look at the worktable. Cralix must have just stepped away and I couldn''t find her with the gem.

    ¡°<i>Where''d she go, Marts? I''ve lost her</i>.¡±

    <i>¡°Why she''s right there, Sir. Hasn''t moved from that spot.</i>¡±

    I took the gem from my eye and there she was. With the gem, gone. Without, there.

    ¡°<i>Janiver, get over here!¡±</i>

    <i>     </i><i>     ¡°What is it, Your Majesty?¡±</i>

    I gave her the gem to see for herself. I could immediately see abject fear on her face as she went white as a sheet.

    ¡°<i>It''s a gods damn parlor trick, a glamor, she''s not there at all, it''s an illusion. Sir, she, they, could be anywhere!¡±</i>

    <i>     </i>My blood ran cold. Then I heard a woman''s laughter, a diabolical laugh. I couldn''t pinpoint its source. It seemed to be coming from everywhere at once, inside my head even. Loud enough to hurt. It was her. I recognized her sinister tone.

    ¡°She knows we''re here! Everyone stand ready!¡±

    May came to my side. ¡°Do you hear that love? That sound?¡±

    Then I did hear it, the flapping of leathery wings just audible over the crashing of the waves on the chalk cliffs below. The sound carried in the darkness, echoing off any surface it could find. To try to count it would be impossible.

    ¡°How many, May?¡±

    ¡°I don''t know, Darling. A hundred, maybe more. They''re coming over the water from the West.¡±

    I pointed that way and said ¡°Watch there everyone! They come!¡±

    From his vantage point on an escarpment, Margin saw them first, and, with his bow, had downed two before anyone else had raised a sword.

    The creatures came in feet first, landing before they attacked. I promptly skewered two and May was cleaving through them like a scythe through wheat. I saw one of the Syndicate men get picked up and dropped over the cliff, but most of them seemed to be holding their own.

    I heard a cry from Margrin, ¡°Another wave, there,¡± he pointed to the Northwest.

    We were just finishing off the last wave.

    I called to May, ¡°This is a diversion. We must find her. She''ll likely begin her Ascension soon.¡±

    ¡°I''m coming with you, she said.¡±

    I know the chivalrous thing would have been to say ¡°No, My Beloved, it''s too dangerous.¡± But I was terrified and I desperately didn''t want to face Cralix alone.

    ¡°Good, your sword is needed with me. Let''s go! To the villa.¡±

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    There were no doors on the building, with year-round perfect weather, most of the houses in the area were just courtyards surrounded by verandas. As stealthily as possible, we went through an archway leading to the central courtyard to get our bearings. Then I had my secret weapon, the Gem of Pure Sight. Holding the thing to my eye, I could see through walls as I wished. There was nobody in the villa. No ?rdelon, no Clarix, no parents, devils, nothing. I was confused. I signalled to May that we should walk around the grounds outside to see if we could spot anything.

    The rest of our party was battling another wave of Agruzar and we didn''t see anything with a cursory tour around the grounds of the villa.  I took May by the hand and we walked to the edge of the chalk cliff. Looking over and down, I could see a sloping walkway leading down to the rocky beach below, at its end, a sea cave, lantern light pouring out of its entrance into the night. I put my finger to my lips and indicated for May to follow me.

    We eased our way down the path, making sure to avoid any loose rocks that might announce our approach. We could hear chanting, just two voices. It had to be Cralix and ?rdelon.

    The entrance to the cave was a small, semicircular opening just large enough for two people to walk through side by side. It was hard to understand the chanting, it was in Elvish, I think, but an ancient version, one dedicated to the Dark Arts. I chanced a peak around the cave opening and saw both of my parents against a wall in the cave''s rear. Both were bound and gagged but otherwise okay from what I could see. The floor of the cave was covered with chalk drawings, circles, pentagrams and heptagrams, runes and sigils, several candles, and a smoking pot of incense. In ?rdelon''s hand, a huge dagger covered in jewels. It had to be a foot long, and its purpose was clear. It was for my parents.

    It was then that my mother saw me. Her eyes widened with surprise. It was a reaction not missed by ?rdelon who wheeled toward the cave entrance and released a fireball that hurtled toward me with alarming speed. Thankfully, I had the presence of mind to dive back toward May. I felt the heat fly close past me, but it missed, exploding just above the waves and illuminating the night sky.

    Hopefully that would get the attention of the rest of the party and we would get some help. Looking back into the cave, the two villains had gone back to their chanting and rune drawing. We had apparently interrupted a crucial point of the ritual because the two were moving about frantically as if a hard deadline was approaching.

    From a kneeling position on the ground, ?rdelon suddenly stood upright as if a puppeteer had pulled his strings, his face began to sink in and his eyes collapsed in their sockets. A thin sheet of sickly green flame covered his form and he tightened his grip on the dagger, turning toward my parents.

    ¡°May! It''s time! Take him, I''ll get ready for Cralix!¡±

    In a scabbard strapped to her back, May had brought along her great sword, a thing as long as she was tall. In one fluid motion, she unsheathed the blade with a <i>tswing</i>, rushed into the cave and, with one slashing arc, cleaved ?rdelon in two, his torso landing at my mother''s feet.

    Cralix let out a blood curdling scream and rushed at May as if she had claws with which to attack. May sidestepped the lunge and pushed the Witch to the ground, using her momentum against her.

    ¡°Get out of there!¡± I yelled at May. ¡°You''ll be in my shot¡±

    I unslung the crossbow from my shoulder and began to fumble for the special bolt. Finally finding it and placing it in its groove, my hand began to shake from fear and the thing fell to the rocky ground. I was on my knees in the dark, trying to find it when May''s voice said ¡°You''ll be needing this, Love.¡± handing me the bolt.

    I was just putting the thing back into the crossbow track when I heard a roar like a pride of angry lions accompanied by a screech like an eagle. The ground was trembling, or perhaps it was just me. No, loose gravel was coming down the Cliff side.

    ¡°Come, Tendil, to the beach.¡±

    May grabbed my hand, pulling me away from the cave and onto open ground where I could hopefully get a clear shot. As we waited, the disquieting sounds coming from the cave grew louder, the ground trembled more violently until the whole of the mouth of the cave exploded outward, showering us with debris. Where there once was a cave, there now stood a huge Black Dragon, its neck craning and its catlike eyes blinking away dust and falling rock to find us in the darkness.

    As it, she,  stood to her full height, her wings unfurled and propelled her upward into the night sky. Instead of coming for us directly, Cralix flew to the top of the cliff, many of the Syndicate men firing at her with crossbows and Margin putting at least three arrows into her exposed belly. She flew in low over them all and unleashed a wide stream of green, acid-like bile that turned them into gleaming white skeletons before they collapsed in neat piles. A devastating breath weapon.

    Father Vastila and Mother Felistia were shooting bolts of light at her that seemed to do little more than make her uncomfortable.

    I saw Veralia standing at the cliff edge, waiting her turn, and I yelled ¡°Veralia, now!¡±

    Hearing her mother''s name, Cralix reared back mid-flight to get a better look, and Veralia began calling out her name. I could swear I saw a flicker of sadness in the dragon''s eyes, but I had one duty. Margrin had politely used his shots to show me where the creature''s heart was. With careful aim, I squeezed the trigger mechanism and loosed the bolt.

    After an audible <i>thwunk</i>   The dragon''s form folded in on itself and the beast plummeted from the sky, crashing with a thud to the beach below. Running up to the body, I had to be sure it was done. Her face had begun to sink into her skull and her eyes were just beginning to collapse. I had caught her just as she was Ascending.

    Where the cave had been, Father Vastila and mother Felistia were helping my parents out of the rubble. Margrin waved to me from his promontory and yelled ¡°Nice shot, Your Majesty!¡±

    Looking to May, I said ¡°Darling, let''s go home. We aren''t done. We need to see what has happened with Carca and Mag''stula.¡±

    To the rest of our party I called out, ¡°Come and gather, Friends, we teleport home in five minutes!¡±

    As I kissed May, my Mother demanded, ¡°Tendil! Who is this strange woman? Stop kissing her at once!¡±

    I calmly replied, "She''s your daughter-in-law, Mother and no, I won''t stop now or ever!"

    As she went to bend my father''s ear about it, we were already back in Nez Ambril.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 1, Epilogue: Ends and Beginnings

    We made it back to Nez Ambr¨ªl as the sun was coming up in the East over the broad savannas that come to the edge of the Taliswood. The scene was utterly different in the ballroom now. Valets were sleeping in chairs, heads on tables. The only person up and about was Count Pelisir.

    May asked anxiously, ¡°Is Mag''stula defeated, Pelisir? Tell me!¡±

    ¡°Yes, Mag''stula is no more and we are victorious on all fronts.¡±

    Father Vastila said it first, ¡°Something isn''t right. There is a twist in this reality. What has happened, Count Pelisir?¡±

    Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

    ¡°Well, Mag''stula never got the chance to Ascend. But Carca did.¡±

    Now I could hear a low murmuring, chants and prayers, they were coming from the direction of the Necropolis.

    ¡°I don''t know yet what it means, but we have a new goddess of Death. She didn''t just deceive us, My Friends, she usurped the power of Death himself with this brazen stroke.¡±

    May went from jubilant to sullen, ¡°Well, we must pray to ¨¦lois to give us strength for this and hope that we aren''t victims in any battles between these gods, real or pretend. In the meantime, embrace those close to you and hold them right, for we know not what this future holds.

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 2, Chapter 1: Post Ascension

    <figure></figure>

    <figure></figure>

    The following morning, it was as if we had awakened to a different world, a different Taliswood, a new plane of existence. May and I laid in bed, staring at the ceiling. Lightning crackled outside, thunder rumbled in long and exaggerated peals that shook the host tree, rain came down in buckets. The sky was a slate gray, an ominous, seemingly sentient presence.

    This wasn''t the Taliswood of yesterday. Carca had begun her reign as the new God of Death. No one was quite sure what that might mean. Perhaps even Carca didn''t know.

    We laid there in silence, afraid to greet this day, but eventually, May sat up and rang the service bell. Timmins came in with a cautious step.

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty, what might you need?"

    ¡°Oatmeal with strawberries and a glass of milk for me, Timmins, and, for His Majesty, the usual eggs, scones, and bacon, with coffee.¡±

    " Just so, Your Majesty,¡± and he scampered off.

    "We''re going to pretend it''s just another day?¡± I asked.

    ¡°You would prefer a different approach, Darling? Should we hide under the covers? I don''t know what else can be done, Tendil.¡±

    ¡°Point taken, Love. We''re still alive at least. Or I think we are. This doesn''t feel like the Nez Ambril of yesterday, does it?¡±

    "No, it feels ¡­ altered in some way."

    When Timmins returned with breakfast, he said, ¡°Your Majesties, when you''ve finished, Mother Felistia and Father Vastila request your presence in the chapel.¡±

    "Very well, thank you, Timmins. Where is Waldinor today?¡±

    "Waldinor is feeling a little under the weather, Your Majesty, and didn''t want to get anyone else sick.¡±

    ¡°We''ll have to talk about it sooner or later, Darling,¡± I was coaxing and she could tell.

    ¡°I can talk without being made to feel like a child, Tendil.¡±

    ¡°I''m sorry, May, I just feel so confused. Well, what did the old god of Death do? Did he kill people?¡±

    " As far as I know, Love, he was basically just a psychopomp. But it all depends on the beliefs of the newly deceased. Are they having their souls weighed, their hearts read, do they have fare for the journey, etc. For Elves, especially followers of ¨¦lois, Death takes you back to the Great Tree from whence we all came and there are no conditions. If you led an evil life, you will wilt under ¨¦lois¡¯s glare for eternity.¡±

    "And what if there were no psychopomp to guide you, Dearest?"

    ¡°Then I would wander the Flat Fields, Love. Possibly forever if a guide never comes I suppose, no trees, no hills, rivers, no landmarks, the sun always overhead, so no concept of time or direction. There is hunger and thirst but no food or water. This is where wandering souls abide until their psychopomp comes to their relief. For followers of ¨¦lois, this being usually takes the form of a great red deer or a red fox. The deer is named Ranzir, the fox is Fantilli. If you can befriend either creature, they will lead you to the Great Tree.¡±

    ¡°What is it like with your religion?¡± she asked me.

    "I think I''m going to switch to ¨¦loisism since I''ve actually seen him. My family worships Barga, she''s the goddess of the hunt and the hearth in Feerslandic myth, the Great Warrior Mother, depicted as a woman with a spear hunting from the back of her great white steed, Fjorlic. When you die, a being called the Shade comes and guides your soul to the Great Mead Hall. Old warrior religion in Feersland. It doesn''t predate the Elves, but it''s mighty damned ancient by Human standards.¡±

    ¡°But regarding Carca, what role she has carved out for herself, who knows, but Death is almost always neutrally aligned. So, if her intent is evil, she''s going the long way around, don''t you think?¡±

    "Tendil, I haven''t a clue what her motives might be. Let''s get dressed and go see Vastila and Felistia. Perhaps they''ve got some answers by now."

    <hr>

    We found the two religious leaders kneeling at the small altar in that tiny chapel in which I had met the fake Felistia. Being as quiet as possible, we snuck in and took seats on the back pew.

    Vastila heard us and turned to speak, "Good Morning, Your Majesties. I hope you rested better than your appearances would suggest.¡±

    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    "Not much better, no, Father. Our thoughts keep us awake these days.¡±

    "As is the case with us all, My Queen," he replied.

    I had to interject, ¡°Father, Mother, last night I witnessed two titans battling from the veranda here, ¨¦lois and the Black King. What came of that struggle?¡±

    "First, My Prince, we don''t mention that name in a holy place,¡± I was admonished.

    "In answer to your question, you likely didn''t see a current fight. On nights like last night, when the veils between the planes are at their weakest, we see echoes of battles between the gods from millennia ago. I may well be wrong, you may have seen it as it was happening. But those two have battled for at least 500 years. They will likely fight until the Last Days.¡±

    "Well, what has been the result of all of their bloodshed, Father? It feels like we lost.

    ¡°We neither won nor lost, My Prince. Much is still to be decided, but by less cataclysmic means. We haven''t spoken to ¨¦lois since last night. For now, the conduit is broken.¡±

    Mother Felistia added, "But we do know where Carca is, she''s been flitting back and forth between Yis-Gl¨¢z and our Necropolis, what the Barrow Elves call ¡®Moss City.¡¯¡±

    ¡°As long as we can keep an eye on her, I''m not terribly concerned about Carca,¡± said May; "I would like to meet with her soon though if that''s even possible anymore.¡±

    Father Vastila answered, ¡°We can reach her through standard prayer and supplication. Whether she chooses to respond or not is her prerogative.¡±

    I got a strange feeling, "We''re about to go to the Necropolis, aren''t we?¡±

    May held my hand, giving it a squeeze, "Yes, My Dear, we are,¡± and smiling.

    As we walked back to our rooms, it occurred to me, ¡°Do we even know who the leader is in the Necropolis?¡±

    ¡°Do you remember the name Milost Phaerony¨®n?¡±

    " Yes, the Elf who was publicly flogged?¡±

    "The same. Time to see if this diplomatic side of you I keep hearing about has any weight.¡±

    It took but a little recall on my part to put a plan into place for Milost Phaerony¨®n. Number one was recognition for his actions during the Siege of the Black Banner. Two was establishing a park in his honor near the center of town. Three was a different kind of military honor that would seal the deal. Relations with the Barrow Elves would soon be mended, or at least patched.

    As we approached the lychgate, two very veteran rangers stepped into our path, crossing glaives and looking terribly menacing.

    May announced, in her commanding voice, ¡°We are here to see the White King, Milost Phaerony¨®n! Step aside!¡±

    The elder of the two, a sergeant said, "No one past this point without express written orders, Your Majesties! Apologies!¡±

    The sergeant seemed to be wishing he was far away from this kind of confrontation. Despite some bad blood in the past, May was still wildly popular among the Barrow Elves.

    ¡°I hate to put you in the middle of this, Sergeant ¡­¡±

    "Enbry¨®n, Your Majesty, Sergeant Enbry¨®n."

    May went on, "As I was saying, Sergeant Enbry¨®n, I hate to ask, but would you please go and let your king know that his royal neighbors wish audience with him. Respectfully. Make sure you say ¡®respectfully.¡¯¡±

    With a crisp "Yes, Your Majesty,¡± and a click of the heels, he was off.

    May spoke quietly with the private still standing there.

    ¡°Did you see any combat yesterday, Private?"

    ¡°Yes, Your Majesty. I did. Against the mercenaries, though it hardly seemed sporting. They had no fire in them."

    ¡°Yes, Private, the mercenary pay may seem wonderful until you''re asked to trade your life for it. You were fighting for something. They weren''t."

    "What do you think about the events with Carca?¡± I asked.

    "I''m just a soldier, Your Majesty. I leave those thoughts to greater minds than mine. I don''t even know what it all means.¡±

    "That makes two of us, Private. Thank ¨¦lois we have the Rangers on our side.¡±

    ¡°Indeed, Your Majesty!"

    Sergeant Enbry¨®n double timed back to the lychgate to inform us that we would be seen by His Majesty, the White King, and we followed him up the slight hill leading to the Royal Crypt.

    All that had changed since my last visit was the lack of skeletal warriors and the presence of the White King with whom I was not formally acquainted.

    ¡°Your Majesty," I bowed deeply and May gave a very regal slight curtsy.

    ¡°Our mission here today is a simple one. We seek stronger ties and a healthy relationship with you and your people. To that end, you are being awarded the Queen''s Medal for Exceptional Bravery for your actions during the Siege of the Black Banner, hereafter to be called the Milost Phaerony¨®n Medal.¡±

    ¡°Further, a new park in the city center will be named Ranger Park in your honor.¡±

    ¡°Thirdly, we will be establishing a Foreign Legion within our ranks open to any who meet your standards to consist of Rangers trained heavily in the area of stealth and subterfuge. A unit of elites.¡±

    ¡°Ranger Park is hereby set aside for the daily use of Barrow Elves to beg alms and to publicly flagellate themselves if they so desire.¡±

    ¡°How do these actions sit with you, Your Majesty?"

    ¡°Honestly, Prince Tendil, Queen May, it''s overdue, but I''m extremely grateful. Thank you both."

    "Have you heard from Carca, Your Majesty?¡± I asked.

    " I''ve heard of her, not from her. We have a magnificent young Warlock, Shindur is her name, who has been tasked with trying to keep an eye on her. The last information I received was that she was in Yis-Gl¨¢z savoring the opulence and rooms full of gold. As if gods need coin.¡±

    ¡°Considering her origins, it may take her a while to get used to it, I replied.¡±

    ¡°Of what ¡®origins¡¯ do you speak Prince Tendil? Carca¡¯s family were fabulously wealthy Dark Elf amber merchants before her father''s death. She went her own way for a long time but, when she came back for the funeral, she just stayed here with him. Her siblings took all the money, left her nothing. But this became her home anyway. She has no use for the world any longer. Which makes this recent move doubly troubling, or curious at the least.¡±

    I was trying to add it up in my head but to no avail.

    ¡°I think May and I need to visit Yis-Gl¨¢z. It''s an excellent diplomatic opportunity if nothing more comes of it."

    May put her hand on Milost¡¯s shoulder and said,

    "We''ll announce all of your honors publicly when we get back, Friend, Your Majesty.¡±

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 2, Chapter 2: Putting Things Back in Place

    Once May and I left the lychgate, we both felt as if something truly fruitful had taken place. Except for the occasional social unrest, the Barrow Elves were a staunch and reliable ally, and there are never too many of those.

    ¡°So, what''s the plan, May? Do we leave for Yis-Gl¨¢z today?"

    ¡°Yes, My Love, I think we do. But should we travel by caravan or by <i>Teleportation</i>?"

    ¡°Well, there''s much of this world I haven''t seen yet need to see. On the other hand, given the current state of affairs do we not think it might be more wise to stay?"

    "Certainly, My Prince, the kingdom can be handled by Pelisir, Felistia, and Vastil. And we shall take two Wizards with us and several scrolls. It''s a day''s trip there and a day''s trip back. But we should stay two nights at least, less would be discourteous, more would be burdensome."

    ¡°Everyone should really be more grateful that there are two such conscientious travelers in the world,¡± I said, sarcastically.

    ¡°Then it''s settled," May declared to my surprise, ¡°We leave at dawn."

    ¡°Very well, Love. I''ll get the retinue put together: 25 Gatekeepers, 15 Rangers, 35 men at arms, 20 arbalesters, 6 footmen, 2 Wizards, 2 Clerics, a Bard, two cooks, 4 grooms, and a Sorcerer for good measure.¡±

    "Are you expecting trouble, Darling?¡±

    "We go to the city of the Spotted Gnolls, Dear. The same creatures we defeated so soundly only yesterday. In fact we should delay things a day. Give everyone a chance to recuperate, and make sure we don''t catch up to the defeated Gnoll army marching home.¡±

    "Very well, My Prince, we can do other things here then. There is much to be done. We need to put our dead to the pyre, including Field Marshal Every¨®n. I also must name his successor. It would be too great a promotion for his son. Maybe in fifty years. Oh, and Janiver must come with us!¡±

    "I must ask, Dear, what sort of reception you expect from Carca, civil, distant?¡±

    ¡°If she hasn''t changed too greatly, she''ll be cordial. But she has changed greatly, she''s a god now, after all.

    ¡°What do we hope to accomplish here, May?"

    ¡°As far as I''m concerned Tindel, just establishing a dialogue is paramount at this point. Without being insulting she needs to get the sense that we''re her equals, or at least we think we are. We''re happy for her. What''s it like being a god? Keep the questions relatively light. You''re good at that,¡± she chuckled.

    " Hey! I can ask hard questions if I need to!¡±

    " I''m sure you can, Darling. I''m sure you can.¡±

    ¡°You''re beautiful when you''re condescending, My Queen.¡±

    Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

    " Yes! That! Flattery will work wonders on Carca. Our main mission though, Prince of mine, is to get a sense of what she''s trying to do. And I can''t help but think there''s more to all of this. Her ambition has never been this high.¡±

    "Maybe it''s just the classic good versus evil battle, May, and each side is picking their agents.¡±

    ¡°As you yourself said, My Dear, Death is neutral."

    "Aha! I think I might have something, May! What if Death wasn''t neutral? That would interfere with whatever cosmological balance there is, putting a finger on the scale for the side of evil. They see Carca as one who might be ripe for the picking.¡±

    ¡°Handsome and smart. With a dearth of ideas, yours certainly stands out as the most plausible. Well done, My Prince. Now we need to find out who''s been trying to convert her.¡±

    " I don''t like that terminology, May. You don''t just decide one day to convert to evil. The seeds are already there. So, more importantly, we need to discover what was the source of those seeds in Carca?¡±

    ¡°My sense, My Prince, is that it''s the Black King and that''s the cause of what we saw between him and ¨¦lois.¡±

    "That makes a compelling argument, May. We''re a good team, you and I. But I don''t see the Black King spending much time on this plane. He has agents working for him here native to our plane. They''re among us I fear.¡±

    ¡°Perhaps they''ve travelled with Carca. We''ll have to keep our eyes peeled for anyone who might seem to be trying to exert undue influence. Have you any recommendations on a field marshal nominee, Tendil?¡±

    "No, Love, other than Count Pelisir and Milost Phaerony¨®n and they have duties enough. I still like the idea of the Every¨®n boy too. I want him promoted to something. He can be groomed for the field marshal¡¯s role. We need to be promoting from the rank of general. Who was Field Marshal Every¨®n¡¯s second in command?¡±

    "General Forstine was his Chief of Staff, but he''s far too old, Love. He''s Greer''s age for ¨¦lois¡¯ sake.

    Oh, speaking of Greer, he should be returning today. I shall be glad to see him.¡±

    ¡°General Forstine¡¯s deputy is a consideration, General Branzin. Early 300s. He''s a Gatekeeper. Right behind Pelisir in that charge yesterday. Yes, I quite like him as a pick. We should have him for supper, Tendil, and have Pelisir there. Let''s tell them at seven bells in our rooms.¡±

    " Timmins!¡± The lad came running, "have General Branzin, Count Pelisir, and Mister Margrin come to our rooms promptly at seven bells for supper. It will be casual court attire. There, be quick!"

    Timmins was off like lightning. ¡°Margrin too?"

    ¡°Yes My Love, I think he deserves some sort of position if he wants one. I intend to make him a Knight of the Realm and offer the position of Secretary of State with full diplomatic privileges, of course.¡±

    "This isn''t my area of expertise My Queen, but shouldn''t that go to Mister Plogue for his work with the Hobgoblins?¡±

    "No, Plogue will be my charg¨¦ de affairs. It''s all coming together in my mind, Tendil, don''t fret.¡±

    "May, I''m going to the seminary to do what research I can do on the Black King, will you come with?¡±

    ¡°I was hoping we could go for a ride about the city, Love but you''re right, that''s indeed more important. I believe I shall visit the Bard College and see what information they have there. Enjoy your day, Dearest." She kissed me and went her way.

    <hr>

    The School of Wizardry, the Bard College, and the seminary are all within close walking distance of the Palace Tree, but the day was still dismal, gray, wet, dreary. I stood under a veranda watching the misty drops that made it through the redwood canopy, hoping it would stop soon, when Margrin came down the ramp at a brisk pace.

    ¡°Good day, Your Majesty!  On your own today?¡±

    "May and I are just splitting up some research. She''s at the Bard College and I''m headed for the seminary. You''re welcome to join me.¡±

    "Much obliged, Your Majesty. What are we studying today and what''s this supper tonight about?¡±

    "As far as the supper goes, you''ll see. We''re going to the seminary to see what we can find out about the Black King.¡±

    "Married less than a week and she''s got you keeping secrets from your friends, hmm. Well, at any rate, I know nothing about the Black King, so this should be at least educational.¡±

 Volume 2, Chapter 3: Once There Was a Little Boy

    <i>¡°Once there was a little boy, small, black haired, pale, and of little joy. </i>

    <i>     Wicked children treated him with awful intent. Hiding from cruelty his days were spent. </i>

    <i>     But those evil children couldn''t know his mind. The boy''s thoughts were far less than kind. He dreamed of being a great Warrior and Mage who would seek revenge with a calculated rage. </i>

    <i>     One night, out of great despair, the boy cried out to the earth and air, ¡°Whoever shall grant my fevered prayer, I''ll be thine servant foul or fair!¡±</i>

    <i>     Twas Grief with the timely answer to the call, a bleak face of the darkest pall, and a name no earthly being should sing, give way poor mortals for the drear Black King.¡±</i>

    As Margrin finished the poem, he said "And it''s simply titled ¡®The Black King,¡¯ no author, date, no reference in print ... but, ho! Here''s a note: ¡®see <i>Eulerix¡¯s Compendium of Deities, Demigods, Devils, Demons, & Devas, pp. 49-52¡¯.</i>¡±

    ¡°Nicely done, Margin. Now, hopefully they have the volume here."

    But when we had an adept try to track it down, he came up empty handed.

    ¡°It appears it''s been stolen, Gentlemen. I can''t do much about that, but I do believe Father Vastil has another edition."

    ¡°Of course, I should have gone to him in the first place. I don''t know what I''m looking for.¡±

    ¡°If you''ll follow me, Your Majesty, I''ll take you to his presbytery. It''s just down this cloister."

    When we stepped outside it had finally stopped raining and the sun was poking through the redwood crown in the canopy, casting shadows like broken glass on the forest floor.

    Father Vastil was pleased to have us, offering tea and biscuits. Of course he had the book, ¡°An excellent reference,¡± he said.

    He wouldn''t allow us to take his copy, understandably, but gave us several sheets of parchment, quills, and ink, and bade us take plentiful notes if not just to copy the entry on the Black King verbatim.

    Back in my rooms, I opened the tome and carefully turned pages until I got to 49. This volume was bound in soft, tanned, goat leather, stamped with gold leaf, And had intricate colored ink illustrations in each of its more than 500 pages. The thing was a priceless bookbinder''s masterpiece.

    And there he was, in all his black glory, though the ink didn''t do justice to the sheer depth of his blackness. Sitting on a throne of basalt, perhaps, a massive iron crown, a black face covering, black plate mail armor, and holding that massive two-handed sword.

    Stolen story; please report.

    The image showed no emotion, no intent, purpose, nothing but a menacing presence.

    The entry on the being had a surprising start, mimicking the poem we had seen.

    I began to read out loud, ¡°<i>The Black King (Syndial Nur-Hajisti) began his life as a young Human in the city of Kruklig in the Far Eastern Waste in 743 PA.¡±</i>

    ¡°That name sounds Swalesian. Probably from a merchant family. He''s over 700. Let''s see, it''s 1481 PA so 738 years old.¡±

    "<i>Syndial was a precocious student, studying at a university level at thirteen years of age and excelling in studies of Necromancy. But magic took too much time away from his first love, martial studies. </i>

    <i>     As a child, Syndial was bedridden for over two years battling the Yellow Plague and surviving an extended bout of consumption. Left weak and frail, it took years of hard work for the young man to begin mastering the two-handed sword, but he became a warrior of incredible strength and ability.</i>

    <i>     After a four-year term of military service in the heavy infantry of the army of Kruklig, Syndial spent another two years in a company of Swalesian mercenaries before coming back to Kruklig to focus on Necromancy studies.</i>

    <i>     It was at this point in his life, at around twenty-five years of age that Syndial appeared to turn to a life of adventure. There is a gap of ten years in which his whereabouts were unknown, but he eventually returned to Kruklig as a very powerful and wealthy man. He built a fantastic castle on the cliffs of the Eastern Coast, then went into seclusion except for the presence of a highly trusted assemblage of Dark Elves acting as a service staff, guards, and assistants.</i>

    <i>     No one outside the castle saw Syndial for over twenty years. Rumors spread of unusual activity around the estate and eventually he showed himself, but no longer as a man. He had ascended into lich form. From that point, he ruled a small part of the sea coast for a time. But Syndial wasn''t the typical lich. Neither evil, nor good, remaining solidly neutral.</i>

    <i> He maintained this existence for some fifty years before approaching various neutral gods to find one willing to take on a champion. The first to accept the offer was Langerthrae, the old goddess of Grief, and he served her well for more than one hundred years.</i>

    <i>     One day though, when she needed a champion like never before, Syndial turned on the goddess. As hard and long as they fought, the issue was in doubt for the passing of many seasons, until she finally gave way to the younger god''s power and tenacity. </i>

    <i>     This time, Syndial played no role to fool anyone. He changed his name from Grief to Despair, and marched under the banner of evil. No longer a demigod, he had achieved his ultimate goal, true godhood.</i>

    <i>     It''s very rare that a mortal can catapult their way to divinity in this way, and it''s still not known where Syndial¡¯s full power came from. But he ascended further, making himself the patron of Fear, Loneliness, and Sorrow. </i>

    <i>     Now, it''s said that he lives in a massive citadel of onyx, leading an army of Bone Devils in his own layer of Hell, and calling himself the Black King.¡±</i>

    Margin was looking at me glassy eyed and it occured to me that he was in one of his trances. Snapping my fingers in front of his face, he sat bolt upright in his chair, trying to look suddenly attentive.

    ¡°We''re all tired, Margrin. But this is all so very important. You need to read this before you come sup with us this evening.¡±

    ¡° Ugh! Very well, Your Majesty.¡±

    ¡°I''m not sure how all this works, but ascending like he did, there may still be a bit of mortality left in him, and maybe we can exploit that.¡±

    <figure></figure>

 Volume 2, Chapter 4: Secrets of the Dark Elves

    As we were seated for our meal, it was May and me on opposite ends of the table, Margrin and Pelisir to my right, and General Branzin to May''s right. Waldinor and Timmins were assisting Greer with the service, a hearty vegetarian meal, of course and a superb Chanindal red to compliment the eggplant.

    General Branzin was stiff as a board, even with Margrin doing his best to draw him out. Obviously, he preferred the company of soldiers over royalty.

    May decided to cut to the chase, ¡°General Branzin, you may try to relax, we are all of us soldiers here."

    ¡°Apologies, Your Majesty, I''m decidedly out of my element. My rank can''t hide that I''m nothing but an old grunt at the heart of it.¡±

    He spoke with a voice used to giving orders loudly. Uncomfortably loud for our small rooms, but we wouldn''t admonish him. That was a fine quality for what we needed.

    May continued, ¡°As I was saying, General, we are all soldiers at this table, but you do something we can''t do well as soldiers, you lead. And right now, in the absence of Field Marshal Every¨®n, you''re the best leader we have. I''m promoting you to the rank of Field Marshal, Field Marshal Branzin."

    The man was gobsmacked.

    May was incredulous, ¡°Did you really not see that coming, Sir?"

    He blushed, this rough and rumble veteran blushed, "No, Your Majesty. I did not. Thank you!¡±

    "It also comes with a title, Field Marshal, you are hereby also to be referred to as Baron of the Approaches. That''s the ten miles of Forest Road leading up to the Silver Gate and the land to either side of it for a mile, 12,800 acres. Basically worthless, but you must now be addressed as ¡®My Lord.¡¯¡±

    ¡°I truly don''t know what to say, Your Majesty. It''s the highest honor I could hope for. ¨¦lois be praised."

    ¡°I must make a request of you though, Sir. I want you to take the Every¨®n boy under your wing and groom him for your job. You won''t be replaced for at least a hundred years, so don''t worry about that. Just make him as good as you.¡±

    "Absolutely, Your Majesty!¡±

    "And now for you, Mister Ephysiery¨®n."

    "Me? What about me?"

    ¡°I hereby appoint you to be my Secretary of State and Ambassador at Large for the Hard Coast, and bestow upon you the title Knight of the Realm. No land for you yet, but behave yourself and we may revisit that situation.¡±

    ¡°Ah! Thank you, Your Majesties! I''m terribly honored."

    Stolen novel; please report.

    "And Count Pelisir, Sir, I''m adding to your duties the role of Supreme Commander of the Armies of the Northern Taliswood. Field Marshal Branzin is ultimately answerable to you as are any other forces brought under your command for situations like this most recent.

    Count Pelisir, you are also at the helm should I or Prince Tendil not be here. That means tomorrow. We go to Yis-Gl¨¢z in the morning to try to figure out this Carca situation. I trust I leave it in capable hands, but I''m a <i>Teleportation </i>spell away if I''m needed.¡±

    "You needn''t worry, Your Majesty."

    ¡°I know, and it''s a great comfort, My Lord.¡±

    ¡°I''ve already promoted Janiver, so she gets the night off.¡±

    "Prince Tendil?¡±

    " Yes, thank you, Your Majesty. This is for the table. We fear that there are more powerful forces at play regarding the situation with Carca. So far, two entities have marked themselves for investigation. One is the Black King. Two is the Dark Elves who I just found out about today. We feel they are key to our understanding of the crisis, and I feel comfortable in calling it that. There are divine and infernal forces at play that may be well beyond our capabilities to influence. That won''t stop us from trying. We''ve shown what fight we have in the Taliswood, so now they''re on alert. We won''t disappoint them.¡±

    "Here, here!¡± shouted a slightly tipsy Margin. "By the gods, Your Majesty, you speak better than I do!¡±

    Count Pelisir was the first to speak up, ¡°You all probably know more about the Black King than anyone here. The Dark Elves I can help you with. They have been here almost as long as we have. They started to go evil several millennia ago and were cursed by ¨¦lois so that they have to hide from the sun. They live underground in the extreme North of the Taliswood. They very rarely come out.

    I''m sure even your  limited research tells of how they abandoned the Taliswood <i>en masse</i> to become servants of the Black King. They''re one of the more inherently beautiful subspecies. Their skin is ink black, amber eyes, white hair, but the sun burns them like fire. No one knows why they turned evil. Their life expectancy peaks at around 500 years.

    They used to involve themselves in the amber trade, but there aren''t enough of them left in these woods to make a competitive go of it.¡±

    ¡°And that just tied itself together all nice and neat, didn''t it?" I asked rhetorically.

    Field Marshal Branzin was slower on the uptake,  "What did I miss?"

    ¡°I think we''ve all missed something, Lord Branzin.¡± Margrin said with a confused look on his face.

    Nobody was bringing it all together.

    "The Dark Elves obviously knew the power of the Inclusions long before anybody else. At least by 700 years. My theory is that Syndial came to the Dark Elves thinking they''d make good minions for whatever plans he was brewing. So, he came to the Taliswood to recruit them.

    There''s no telling how long they''d known about the inclusions; but Syndial found out through them and that paved the way for his ultimate plan of achieving godhood.¡±

    "But why settle on the Dark Elves in the first place,¡± asked May, ¡°across a desert and half a continent away?¡±

    If the idea wasn''t his, then we have an open slot for another puzzle piece.¡±

    "Nicely done, My Queen.¡±

    Then I noticed her facial expression, ¡°We''re crossing the Waste for Kruklig, aren''t we?"

    Putting her hand against my cheek, she said ¡°No, My Darling, of course not."

    I breathed a sigh of relief.

    ¡°It will just be you and Margrin."

    I groaned. Margin chose just then to start paying attention.

    ¡°Wait, where am I going?"

    I hated to say it out loud, but ¡°We''re going to the Waste, Sir!" as jovially as I could make it. ¡°

    "Yes, you two will depart Yis-Gl¨¢z three days hence, most of the way by <i>Teleportation</i> across the Waste. You''ll meet with the Sand Elves outside of Kruklig and formulate your full plan.¡±<figure></figure>