by T Nisbet
Somehow they carried me down the stairs and out into the sea of revelers. I hated every minute of it but smiled back knowing that I was representing Marchon’s city guard. I concentrated on my breathing and waved, as I was carried around like a trophy above the crowd. I hardly noticed the faces of the people swarming around me. I did see a couple of extraordinarily beautiful women my handlers stopped before, so they could place garlands over my head. All they did was remind me of Ivy. At least it was over now, and I’d be able to get back to my friends.
I don’t know how long I was carried around, but it felt like hours. Just when I thought I would lose the battle with my growing anxiety, guardsmen surrounded us and I was gently lowered back to the ground. Captain Marchon clapped me on the back proudly. “We’ll done Master Gunn, well done!” he shouted.
Gill handed me a pouch that rustled when I accepted it. “From the stage,” he yelled into my ear as the guardsmen started gently pushing through the crowd. We were showered with flower petals, coins and even a guarder belt or two on our way back to the guard station as the crowds around us began singing what I assumed was the national song of Ceneria.
When we had finally made our way inside, a couple of guardsmen bolted the thick wooden door behind us. For a moment there was silence, then the guards cheered and took turns congratulating me. I gave Gill back the pouch and asked him to share it amongst the guard. It didn’t feel right keeping it. Gill smiled at me and nodded, then began passing out the coins. Captain Marchon called for quiet when the last of the coin had been doled out.
“There will be a celebration tonight the like of which hasn’t been seen in many a year. Your presence among the people of the city is needed,” he said, a stern look coming over his features. “Tonight the ban against drinking while on duty is lifted, but embarrass your uniforms and you’ll wish you hadn’t been born. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes Captain!” the guardsmen said in one voice.
“Good.” Captain smiled. “Dismissed.”
The guards gathered in the room cheered and began filing down the stairs.
After a giving the guard a chance to leave the room, Captain Marchon and Gill led me down the stairs as well. I followed them down a hallway, past the room where Gill had given me the guard’s uniform, and up a flight of stairs to a dining hall. Dark stained banners and pendants, hung down the paneled walls on either side of the long room. A variety of weapons were suspended from hooks below them, trophies from battles long ended. A long, worn table, big enough to serve fifty people, ran down the center of the room. At the far end of the table Lord Lathris of Lor Lorenith stared angrily across the eating surface at Lord Guldan, the blood elf. The blood elf had a bored expression on his face.
As we drew near I heard Lathris growl if such a sound could come from such a fair voice.
“If you must go death drinker, then so shall I!”
The dark clothed blood elf waved his hand dismissively. “Do as you will, little brother.”
Both turned as we approached. Lord Lathris stood up and bowed deeply. The blood elf only nodded.
“Please have a seat,” Captain Marchon said gesturing to the benches on either side of the table as he sat in a chair at its head. Corporal Gillian and I sat down by Prince Lathris leaving the blood elf alone on the other side. “What is this business about joining Master Gunn’s quest?”
“The death drinker here says he is called to the ‘Light Bearer’s’ quest,” the high elf nearly spat.
“Brother,… I am one of the ten,” the blood elf sighed, rolling his dark eyes.
“I ceased being your brother when you became a death drinker and joined our enemies, Guldan,” Lathris said, clenching and unclenching his fists before him on the table. “You’ve disgraced our people. You are my sworn enemy now, not my brother.”
“I am of the covenant, and I remain one of the ten despite your hatred, little brother,” Guldan said shrugging.
“One of the ten immortals?” I said, hardly believing what I was hearing.
Guldan nodded at me and spread his hands. “I felt your presence even before I felt the council’s call to you.”
Captain Marchon held up his hands for quiet.
“Master Gunn, perhaps it is best if you tell your tale from the beginning, so we can best discern what council to give you, that is, if you wish our council at all,” Captain Marchon said looking at me.
I felt small and swallowed, as everyone stared at me, waiting. Thallium had warned me not to divulge too much. To be careful of whom I confided in. I had been following Thallium’s advice and hadn’t really had time to process whether I should be or not. By his own admission he had caused the problem I was suppose to fix. Millions of people had suffered and died because of his mistake. The current leader of the council of mages seemed to trust him, but they had also shriven his essence from his body as punishment for his crime.
As I sat there wondering how much I should say. I realized the mage council had given Thallium a chance at redemption. Could I do any less?
I took a deep breath and decided to follow my intuition which Thallium seemed to be guiding. I told them about Sir Nisbet, Brianna’s father, Coach McNally, the portal, basically everything but how I’d gained my weapon’s knowledge from the sword. Several times during my story one or another of the four listening would ask me to clarify something. The dark elf seemed particularly interested in Brianna and her father, frowning deeply as I explained in more detail.
When I was finished, the room was filled with an uncomfortable silence. I could hear my heart beating loudly in my ears, as the familiar rush of anxiety started to well up inside me. I concentrated on my breathing hoping they couldn’t hear my racing pulse.
After what seemed like an hour, but in reality were only a few minutes, Captain Marchon spoke. “There is much more I would know before offering any council, but that you could use some help in this quest I have no doubt. It is your mission Master Gunn. It is up to you to decide who accompanies you, and who does not. It is no easy thing you must accomplish.”
Prince Lathris sighed loudly. “I must respectfully disagree with you good captain. This undertaking is fraught with many dangers and may hinge upon who is selected for the task. Forgive me Light-Bearer, but it sounds to me as if you know little of how to accomplish your quest, and I fear, little about how to choose companions to insure its success.”
“Be that as it may Prince Lathris, it is his quest, and his choice,” Captain Marchon reiterated.
The blood elf chuckled lazily drawing everyone’s attention.
“I know where the Demon can be found for what that is worth. Maybe it should fall on me to decide who goes and who stays.”
“You will decide nothing, Guldan,” Prince Lathis said in an even tone. “I know of your lies and disloyalty. I will not allow you to be a part of this.”
Guldan’s eyes grew hard as he stared across the table.
“Do you think I gave up my family, my people and turned into the monster I am on a whim, dear brother? No, I will join the quest whether or not I am invited by this fledgling immortal,” Lord Guldan said leaning back in his chair.
Captain Marchon nodded towards the doorway we had entered in moments it filled with guards. They didn’t enter, but waited for another signal.
Prince Lathris’ musical laughter rang through the room.
The dark elf glanced towards the guards in the doorway, then at his fair-haired brother and smiled grimly.
Captain Marchon shrugged.
“If Master Gunn decides against you I will hold you here until he is far away and beyond your interference.” Then he looked at me. “What say you?”
I felt a sudden, overwhelming desire to accept the dark elf’s help. I knew it was the Thallium’s voice, because until that moment there was no way I was going to allow anyone but Gill to come along. As incredulous as it seemed, if I was going to allow Thallium his chance at redemption I knew I had to accept.
“The more the mer
rier,” I said shaking my head. I hoped that decision wouldn’t come back to bite me. Literally.
“With your permission I will assign Corporal Gillian here to this quest as well,” Captain Marchon said somberly. “I would know that our best is at your back.”
Gillian nodded at his captain, but otherwise appeared unfazed by his compliment.
Lathris placed a slender hand on my arm.
“I think it the highest of follies to allow a traitor to accompany you Light Bearer, but as Captain Marchon has pointed out, it is your choice to make. Please allow me to accompany you as a representative of the people of Lor Lorenith.”
I nodded and immediately felt a satisfying relief flood through me that was at odds with the thoughts fluttering through my head. Somehow I knew that nearly everything was as it should be. Almost all the pieces were in place. Having three of the best swordsmen in the kingdom helping me trap a demon couldn’t hurt.
“I guess you can put the children away,” the dark elf said casually nodding towards the guardsmen gathered in the doorway.
Captain Marchon nodded, and at his gesture the guards left us in privacy.
“We do have a slight a problem,” Guldan continued with an exaggerated stretch.
“Here it comes,” sighed Lathris folding his arms in front of him.
“My ‘companions’ saw me yield. They will hasten back to Grimhome and tell the king of my betrayal. Zildian won’t be to pleased to hear that I won’t be returning with the championship.”
“What matter is this to our affairs, Guldan!” Lord Lathris asked, staring across the table at his brother. “Who cares if you find disgrace in yet another realm?”
“Why brother, you are getting used to saying my name again. How… refreshing,” Guldan laughed, though the sound carried no mirth.
I thought Prince Lathris might leap across the table and attack seeing the look that he gave Lord Guldan.
“I only say this because it is in Grimhome that we will find the Demon,” Guldan snickered. “It might be easier if every Blood Elf in the kingdom weren’t out to kill us.”
“You mean, your kingdom, traitor, and they will be out to kill you, Death Drinker, not us,” Prince Lathris shot back. “This is another reason you shouldn’t come on this quest, not an argument for it.”
“Our dark cousins prepare for war, brother mine, they will not allow humans passage into their kingdom, and certainly not a Prince of their hated enemy…”
“War?” Captain Marchon interrupted. “Who are they planning to attack?”
Guldan smiled innocently, “Why Ceneria of course.”
I was still trying to wrap my head around Guldan being “One of the Ten” as the handsome flutist explained to Captain Marchon what he knew of the Blood Elves plans. Zildian, the Blood Elf King, had sent him to the tournament in hopes of demoralizing the Cenerian guard. Twenty days after the contest, the blood elves would attack through the southern pass hoping to draw the guard and council of mages into battle far from the major cities. Once Cenerian forces had engaged the armies of the Blood Elves, the demon would raise his underworld minions behind the Cenarian lines, and strike at the defenseless cities.
When the pale elf finished speaking, Captain Marchon called for a guard. A guardsman hurried into the dining hall and went to his captain immediately. The captain spoke quietly to the guardsman, who paled visibly, and ran out of the dining hall.
“It seems I have much to prepare for. Let us discuss how to proceed on Master Gunn’s quest in haste.”
