Elvangar Page 27

“Who voted against it?” asked the queen.

  “Amber and I voted against it,” answered the Head Elder. “I suggested that the idea required more study. I was not persuasive enough.”

  “It needs no further study,” declared the queen. “I think things are perfectly clear.”

  “Then shall the elders nominate a group to make the contact?” asked Malid.

  “Certainly not,” replied Queen Alycia. “There will be no contact with the humans. That is the law. What was the sentence imposed on the two boys?”

  “They have been forbidden from using ships for five years,” answered Malid. “They were also sentenced to prison for an undefined period to allow us to completely interrogate them. The interrogation is over. They have been released.”

  “Released?” shouted the queen. “And I was not even told?”

  “It was hardly a matter that required such a lofty review,” frowned Malid. “You certainly appeared to be satisfied with their sentence at the time it was given.”

  “That was before the Council turned against me,” scowled the queen. “Those boys spoke with humans. They should be punished with death. Maybe that would end all of this nonsense about contacting our enemies. Those boys make it sound like the humans are so wonderful. Well, they forget our history. Humans are evil. Never again will the elves suffer the humans. Not while a descendent of Kieran sits on this throne.”

  “What’s done is done,” sighed Malid. “They are just boys.”

  “No, Malid,” scowled the queen. “They are not just boys. They deliberately broke the law. Their foolishness can have grave consequences to our people. Already their words are turning the Council of Elders against me. I will not have the populace wanting to reestablish contact with the humans. This situation needs to come under control immediately. I want those boys rearrested. I don’t care how you do it, just do it. They will not be allowed to walk freely among the people spreading their tales of deceit. Who were the main supporters of this proposal?”

  Malid fidgeted. While he was extremely loyal to the queen, he also had a duty to the Council of Elders. He could almost smell the suggestion that was coming next.

  “Who were they?” demanded the queen. “Tell me now.”

  “Vitalora and Volox spoke for the proposal,” sighed Malid. “None of the others even spoke.”

  “I want them off the Council,” stated the queen.

  “That is within your powers,” frowned Malid, “but I would advise against it. It would be seen as intentionally interfering with the Council. The people would lose all respect for the government.”

  “If I intended to dismiss them outright,” retorted the queen, “I would not need to be mentioning it to you. Find some reason for me to dismiss them, some reason not associated with this foul proposal.”

  “I…” began Malid.

  “That is all, Head Elder,” snapped the queen. “Tend to your duties. They are many and varied, and you do not have any free time to spend here chatting.”

  Malid exhaled loudly as he nodded perfunctorily and left. The queen stood at the railing watching her people go about their lives, completely unaware of the impending doom that the troublemakers would bring down on them. She heard the door open behind her. She listened to the military footsteps as they approached. She turned around with a smile on her lips, which disappeared as soon as she saw Rattal.

  “Where is Tamar?” asked the queen.

  “He is going out of the city for the day,” reported Rattal. “I have brought the readiness reports for you.”

  “And where is he going?” asked Queen Alycia.

  “He did not say,” shrugged the officer. “He is my superior. I do not question him.”

  “And I am your queen,” declared Queen Alycia. “From now on, you are to provide a service to me. This service, if properly performed, will boost your career tremendously. This service is also strictly confidential. Do you understand?”

  “I am merely a servant of my queen,” grinned the officer. “I value her over all else.”

  “Excellent,” smiled the queen. “I think you will go far. Your first task is to report the movements of Tamar. I want to know everything about whom he meets and where he goes. Do you understand?”

  “Perfectly,” grinned the officer. “Is that all you require of me?”

  “I shall have more tasks for you in the future,” promised the queen. “You are, after all, a rising star in the army.”

  * * *

  “Let me see it grow,” grumbled Garl, “and don’t rush it. I want to eat it for the evening meal. We are a poor village, and you must learn to waste nothing.”

  MistyTrail nodded and concentrated on the seedling. She closed her eyes and bowed her head as she cast the spell. Alongside of her, Mistake was casting the same spell, but on a different seedling. Garl watched closely. He smiled as the dirt moved, and the stalk started to rise. Both plants grew at about the same rate, and the old man nodded in satisfaction that the girls were not rushing it.

  “Rushing a spell is the surest way of failure,” declared Garl. “I am glad to see that both of you have learned that lesson. It is one that keeps a majority of students from succeeding.”

  MistyTrail opened her eyes and smiled as ears of corn sprouted on the new plant. She looked over at Mistake’s plant and saw the same success.

  “That is much easier than I imagined,” MistyTrail smiled cheerfully.

  “Of course it is easy,” scowled Garl. “Why do you think you are learning it so soon? The hard stuff comes later. Well, Mistake? You are quiet today. That always causes me to be suspicious about your thoughts.”

  “I am just amazed,” smiled Mistake. “I never really thought that I could do magic. I went along with this for MistyTrail’s sake. You have taught us to do so much, but this is the first spell where the result sort of jumps out at you.”

  “Well the other spells are just as important,” replied Garl. “Sometimes you cannot see the results of your labor as vividly as you can right now. You must remember that elven magic is all about life in its many forms. Sometimes it is the physical form like this spell, but the others are no less important.”

  “You mean like healing?” asked MistyTrail.

  “Sometimes you can see the effects of a healing spell,” nodded Garl, “but other times you cannot. Healing is not just physical. It can be mental or emotional as well. Or you could be healing the internal organs which are unseen by your eyes. You saw some of that yesterday when you made the children unusually happy. The children here are really neglected by our government. The villagers are considered less of a citizen than the city dwellers, unless it comes to war. While we don’t acknowledge it openly, all of us suffer some bouts of depression from time to time. The children are no different. They have dreams and want to be heroes when they grow up, but they know that is unlikely for a villager. Your spells yesterday temporarily healed their depression. That is why they were so happy.”

  “But Volox was a villager,” MistyTrail pointed out. “Now he is an elder and his son is an important officer. Why does living in a village matter?”

  “There are exceptions,” sighed Garl. “Volox is a good man. The king saw his talents and gave him opportunities. Volox accepted those opportunities and conquered them. That is why he was able to overcome his villager status.”

  “So if he could,” shrugged Mistake, “why can’t anyone?”

  “For one reason,” frowned Garl, “the king is no longer. The queen does not share the same views that the king did. She sees the villagers as almost outside of Elvangar. She accepts them as elves, but the people she cares for are the city dwellers. To her, they are the elves of Elvangar. Had Volox arisen today, he would remain a villager until his dying days.”

  “That doesn’t sound right,” frowned Mistake.

  “It isn’t,” shrugged Garl. “One of you run and get my pipe. I need a smoke.”

  MistyTrail and Mistake exchanged glances. They shook their heads in unison.


  “Smoking is bad for you,” declared MistyTrail. “Slari made us promise to keep it away from you. She says it will shorten your life.”

  “Bah,” grumbled Garl as he stared at MistyTrail. “That women is a pain. I should teach you some dark spells just to practice on her. Run and get my pipe.”

  “Ow,” scowled MistyTrail as her hands went to her head. “What are you doing? That hurts.”

  Mistake looked at her sister with confusion. The old man had not moved, and yet she was blaming Garl for something. Garl frowned heavily and turned his gaze to Mistake. Seconds later Mistake yelped and glared accusingly at the old man.

  “Whatever you are doing,” threatened Mistake as a knife slid into her hand, “you will stop it right now. You will not hurt me or my sister.”

  Garl shook his head and stared at the two girls. His eyes grew wide and his mouth hung open.

  “I am sorry,” Garl said breathlessly. “What did you feel?”

  “It was like two hands pressing on my brain,” answered MistyTrail. “Like you were squeezing it. Why did you do that?”

  “It is not normally harmful,” frowned Garl. “It is a simple compulsion spell. I find it most curious that you both felt it. One of you run and fetch my pipe, and I will show you how to cast it.”

  “It sounds like just another way to get your way,” scowled Mistake. “It was probably just a hurting spell so that we would obey you.”

  “No,” Garl said with unusual sincerity. “It was truly a compulsion spell, but one that must never be used on a descendent of Kieran. I will teach it to you.”

  “Then we can repay you for the pain,” grinned MistyTrail.

  “I am afraid that you could,” frowned Garl. “You see, I am a descendent of Kieran as well. In fact, only descendents of Kieran can use this particular spell. It was developed by the master himself.”

  “Does that mean that we are related?” asked MistyTrail.

  “In a way,” nodded Garl, “but I would not put too much importance on that. Kieran lived thousands of years ago. There are many branches of his family tree.”

  “Yet you were surprised,” frowned Mistake. “If there are so many, why were you surprised?”

  “Lineages in Elvangar are very important,” explained the old man. “Just about every descendent of Kieran is well known, yet you two are not. It makes me want to know more about just who you two are.”

  Chapter 21

  Return to the Mountain

  “How will we know if have learned this spell?” asked MistyTrail. “We cannot use it on each other to find out.”

  “Not without causing pain,” answered Garl as he sat on the rock and smoked his pipe. “You can try it on a villager later. None of the other villagers are descended from Kieran. We will do it together so that I can assess your abilities.”

  “You seem to know a great deal about magic,” remarked MistyTrail. “Why is it that you were cast out of the Society of Mages?”

  Garl squinted at MistyTrail as if trying to determine how much she knew. He sighed and waved his hand in dismissal.

  “The Society of Mages are a bunch of windbags,” Garl stated. “They like to act as if only the best and most creative are accepted into their ranks, but the truth is that they are afraid of anyone who thinks differently. I am quite happy to be apart from them.”

  “But why were you kicked out?” pushed Mistake.

  “He offended the queen,” replied Slari as she approached, hands on her hips. “I thought you two would stop him from smoking that nasty pipe? Put it out, Garl. You know it will kill you.”

  “Would that be so bad?” quipped Garl. “I think I am going to smoke this pipe until it is done. Why don’t you run along, Slari? I think I hear one of your children being eaten by those trolls that moved into the jungle.”

  Slari turned around and stared into the jungle in horror. Garl’s lips curled up slightly as if enjoying a private joke. Suddenly, a child hollered near the jungle, and Slari ran off.

  “That was not a nice thing to say,” frowned Mistake. “What if Tokak really did eat one of the children? You would not be smiling then.”

  “So you know one of the trolls?” asked Garl as his eyebrows rose in surprise.

  “I know them both,” nodded Mistake. “They are really nice people when you get to know them. How do you know them?”

  “I walk in the jungle each morning,” replied Garl. “I do not think the trolls will eat the children. In fact, I am pretty sure of it.”

  “How can you be so sure?” asked Mistake. “Tiny has a voracious appetite.”

  “That she does,” chuckled the old man, “but they like elves for their intelligence more than the taste. I convinced them that elven children are rather stupid, and that it takes a good number of years before they get smart.”

  “Why didn’t they eat you?” asked MistyTrail.

  “I am too old,” chuckled Garl. “I told them that I had already forgotten more than they knew, so eating me would make them stupid.”

  Mistake started laughing, but MistyTrail frowned.

  “Why do the elves allow the trolls to live in the jungle if they eat elves?” the Sakovan asked. “Surely the guards could kill the trolls?”

  “I am sure that they could,” nodded Garl, “but that does not mean that they should. The trolls are intelligent beings, and elves do not take another’s life unnecessarily. Besides, the trolls have not eaten a single elf since they arrived. I think it may be more of a game with them than anything else. I doubt we taste very good compared to a nice hog.”

  A sound from the nearby forest trail alerted MistyTrail to someone approaching. A knife slid into her hand as she turned to see who was coming. Mistake stood alongside MistyTrail and waited. A moment later, they relaxed. They saw Tamar escorting Eltor and Caldal to the village, and smiles split their faces.

  “You are not in prison anymore?” MistyTrail asked happily.

  “No,” smiled Caldal. “We are not allowed near any boats, but we are free. We have come home to Etta.”

  Mistake grinned mischievously and stared at Caldal. Suddenly, Caldal rushed forward and hugged MistyTrail as if they were long lost lovers. MistyTrail dropped her knife and frowned in confusion.

  “I am sorry,” apologized Caldal as he embarrassingly broke the embrace. “I don’t know what came over me.”

  MistyTrail heard Mistake chuckling under her breath and turned to face her sister with an angry glare. Garl coughed and both girls turned to him. He shook his head and rose from the rock, tapping his pipe empty.

  “I have tasks to attend to,” Garl declared with a twinkle in his eye. “We will meet again later to continue our discussion on the complications of using serious magic for trivial reasons.”

  Mistake’s face immediately dropped its smirk as she realized that a lecture was forthcoming when next she met the old man. Garl nodded and turned towards the village. The girls turned their attention to their arriving friends.

  “I took the opportunity to escort these young lads,” stated Tamar. “I wanted to see how you two were doing out here.”

  “We are doing well,” smiled MistyTrail. “We are staying with Garl, and he is teaching us magic.”

  “We even learned that we are descended from the famous Kieran,” added Mistake.

  “Are you?” frowned Tamar. “Have you discovered your family then?”

  “No,” MistyTrail shook her head. “It is just a spell that only those of the Kieran line can learn. How are things at home?”

  “You two are missed,” smiled Tamar as he extracted a small sack from his pack. “Anija sent a sack of cookies for you. Unfortunately, I can’t stay long today, but I will arrange to visit another day. I spent the better part of the day getting Eltor and Caldal out of prison.”

  “We thank you for your efforts,” smiled Eltor. “I was afraid that we would never get out of there.”

  “Will you stay and share the cookies?” asked MistyTrail as she bent down and picked up he
r knife.

  “No,” smiled Tamar as he handed the sack to Mistake. “They are for you. I will be back. Abayo.”

  “Abayo,” Mistake and MistyTrail said in unison.

  “How did you meet Tamar?” Caldal asked MistyTrail. “He is a high officer in the army.”

  “We stayed with his parents in Morada,” explained MistyTrail. “They are very nice people. Let’s go to the village. I am sure that your family and friends will want to learn that you are home.”

  In the bushes not far away, an elven officer watched Tamar depart and the others head for the village. He waited until everyone had left before continuing to follow Tamar.

  * * *

  Rejji and Wyant stopped at the abrupt edge of the mountain trail that used to lead to the summit of Mount Kiator. Wyant leaned slightly forward and stared downwards at the pile of rubble a thousand feet below him. He shook his head and leaned back.

  “You would never survive that fall,” Wyant declared. “So this is where you, Bakhai, and Mistake evaded the Jiadin. The three of you are lucky to be alive today. I cannot imagine trying to get into that cave with a bunch of Jiadin chasing me. Are you sure that you want to go through with this?”

  “I have to give it a try,” Rejji nodded as Mobi and Panka arrived and dropped the rope and metal hooks on the narrow path. “Besides, I will be harnessed. I will not reach the bottom if I fall.”

  “That is where you need to go?” asked Mobi as he pointed to a small cave opening in the side of the sheer cliff above the broken section of the trail.

  “Yes,” Rejji replied. “Get me in there, and I will do what I have come to do.”

  “Be eaten is what you will accomplish,” frowned Wyant. “I am not real happy with this plan of yours.”

  “I must at least try,” responded the Astor. “Your task will be just as hard. I don’t know if any of this is going to work, but we must find some way to get the Jiadin to join the Free Tribes. Do you have a better plan?”

  “I don’t have any plan,” Wyant conceded.

  “Then help Mobi and Panka get me into this harness,” replied Rejji.

  The Qubari warrior fitted the harness around the Astor while Wyant hammered metal spikes into the side of the mountain. Mobi tossed a large metal hook into the cave opening and pulled on the attached rope to set the hook. The ropes from the hook and the spikes were secured to Rejji’s harness. When they were all done, Rejji was protected from falling to his death. A rope stretched from the wall above his head to the hook embedded in the upper portion of the mouth of the cave, which was slightly below the level of the destroyed trail.