by D. L. Carter
“What other test have we ever agreed upon?” demanded Chandri. “None. We cannot bring any debate to a vote on the matter of replacing the High King and so we go on, year after year without the guidance of a King.”
Eioth drew in a sharp breath and he tensed as if about to rise to his feet before sinking back into the chair. The slight movement attracted the attention of other Lords and they fell silent awaiting his comment. When Eioth only smiled without speaking, Trevan was moved to call upon him.
“Eioth, what are your thoughts?”
Eioth waited until all eyes were upon him and tucked his hands into his sleeves.
“Only this, old friend,” he said in soft tones. “None of Chandri's daughters are old enough to marry. Even if some unmarried Elf were to recover them no marriage would be legal with so young a bride. If he is married and chooses to accept the girl, then the existing marriage must be dissolved. That also takes time. So, we have some more of those years and years that distress Chandri to live through, yet without the guidance of a King. Since it weighs so upon his mind, we can expect Chandri, in the interest of holding the throne for his daughter and her husband, to offer to act as regent.”
At this point, several of the minor Lords in the audience began to chuckle. Chandri paled still further, his lips tight with controlled fury.
“Of course, it takes time for Kings and Queens to gain the necessary knowledge to rule,” continued Eioth, “even under such guidance as Chandri will provide. So, we can expect by the time the daughter and her husband are ready to rule, we shall be so settled and content under the hand of Chandri the regent that we will accept him continuing in the role of High King until such time as he chooses to step down.”
Several Lords burst into applause and laughter.
“An excellent summary,” cried Senoia above the cheers and jeers.
Chandri, arms folded across his chest, waited until the noise died down.
“Well, what is wrong with that? We need a High King . . .”
“And you think we would reward you by granting this authority to you after such a trick?”
“I deny any plan or trick, but am moved beyond my own personal tragedy to consider the greater need,” said Chandri. “What have you done?”
Senoia glanced toward Eioth, who gave an infinitesimal shake of the head in reply.
“The choosing of a High King must be by acclamation of all the High Lords,” said Senoia. “You do not have the votes, Chandri.”
“Shall we at least vote on the acceptability of this test?”
“I vote against,” said Senoia. “The matter is settled.”
“But, this is not a vote for High Lord,” shot back Chandri. “It is not necessary to be unanimous. A majority is all that is required.”
Senoia sank back, her expression shocked and thoughtful.
“The way this test is proposed leaves the possibility that any family might win,” said one of Chandri's supporters. “High Court. Mid Court. Low Court. Whoever finds the girls will be married to the eldest, a woman of a fertile family. It is not just Chandri who may benefit; it could be any one of us!”
Startled looks were exchanged. Halidan held her breath as the debate raged through the room. Eioth and his friends sat silent, watching as opinions were expressed, arguments rebuffed, and ambitions revealed. All of the High Lords, more, all of the men in the chamber it seemed, had at least sent a token group out to search for the missing children; now it seemed they were impatient to leave and send out larger groups, more skilled trackers, but not until a vote was called.
Chandri might want to be regent, but even that reign would end with whoever was married to the eldest girl – Halidan noted that no one seemed to know her name – eventually becoming the High Queen's consort.
Eioth ended the debate by calling for a vote on a trial. The results of the vote were not surprising. Only three votes against the search for the missing girls being an Epic Trial. A thin majority, but a majority, nonetheless.
The Synod adjourned immediately after the vote, most Lords and their attendants fleeing the room. Eioth, Senoia, and Trevan waited until the room cleared before gathering in the center of the chamber.
“This cannot be permitted to stand,” burst out Senoia. “We should have taken a vote upon you, Eioth, when I suggested it.”
“Chandri would have voted against,” said Eioth calmly. “And the vote for the High King must be an acclamation. No, we must permit this folly to play to its end.”
“Chandri must know where the girls are,” said Trevan, his hands tightening into fists. “I should wring the knowledge from him.”
“Not necessarily,” said Eioth. “He has sworn he does not know and I believe him. All he need do is place the girls into the hands of some other person, who will pass the children on to another and so on. That gives Chandri the ability to deny knowing their location with complete honesty. A simple solution. Likewise the search presents no risk to his plan. Should any stranger succeed in his search and discover them, I would expect the groom Chandri has chosen is already there and surprise, has only just beaten the new arrival into the room, and therefore, wins!”
“You have an evil, complicated mind,” said Trevan, with a reluctant smile. “I must admire that.”
Eioth bowed.
“Then at any moment the girls may be returned,” said Senoia. “The Synod Lords voted to accept the trial, believing it brought themselves closer to the throne.”
“I find it interesting that Chandri assigned search areas to each High Lord,” said Halidan, surprising even herself by speaking. “And gave them some clues and hints.”
Senoia and the others turned to face her.
“What are your thoughts, Halidan?” asked Eioth, holding a hand out to her and keeping it raised until she descended to the debate floor and stood beside him.
She flushed pink under the weight of the gazes of so many High Court Elves, but managed to keep her voice steady.
“Remember those scrolls he had ready for each High Lord? It may be that Chandri has cast a few hints about for each High Lord's searchers to discover to encourage their hope that the girls are hidden in their search area.”
“Of course he did, and they voted to accept the results of the trial because they expect they will win!” said Senoia.
Halidan blushed, embarrassed to have spoken an idea so obvious. Eioth brushed his thumb over the back of her hand, reassuringly.
“I am not searching my assigned area,” said Eioth. “I wonder how he intends to gain my vote.”
“Or mine,” said Senoia.
“Now, Senoia, you have a handsome, talented grandson to be married off,” said Trevan. “Are you not moved to consider a marriage to the eldest girl?”
“Marry into that family? Never.”
“Even so, is not your grandson worthy of the throne?” asked Eioth.
“Of course,” Senoia sighed, “and those are the thoughts that shall work upon our colleagues.”
“Even so.”
“It annoys me beyond words that Chandri's clumsy scheme may succeed even though we all see through it,” observed Trevan with a sigh.
They all stood, each lost in their own thoughts while the mad race to find three lost girls accelerated outside the hall.
The next day the routine calling down of the blessing of the Elements was the last moment of sanity for the day. Immediately after the priests retired, one of Chandri's supporters leapt to his feet to read a proposed regency document. Halidan found her rage at the presumptive High Lord growing as each item of the proposal was read. She was not the only listener stunned into angry silence.
When it was over, Eioth rose before anyone else regained his voice.
“Yesterday, we voted on whether the search for the children constituted an Epic Trial,” he said calmly. “Now is not the time to begin a discussion on the extent and limits of a regency. There was no vote as to whether the Epic Trial also constituted a Royal Trial. Chandri is before
himself if he thinks matters have progressed to the point that a regency is about to be granted to him.”
“What do you say?” demanded Chandri, rising.
“It is simple enough,” said Eioth. “Consult the record of the day and you will find that we voted on an Epic Trial, not Royal.”
Chandri and his supporters gasped and it was necessary for the assistant archivist on duty to read the record of the previous day before they would believe it. Eioth watched them with a slight smile on his face.
“An Epic Trial is entertaining,” Eioth murmured, “and, no doubt, the poets will create an interesting story for future generations to enjoy, but a Royal Trial, no. You were not paying attention Chandri, when the proposal for a vote was called.”
Senoia snickered, then sneered when Chandri turned his head to glare at her.
“Very well, then,” said Chandri. “We shall vote on it today.”
“As you wish,” replied Eioth. “But, before we do, I should present the thought that the father of the daughter should not automatically be considered as the regent. If the father of the groom is judged to have better wit and knowledge, then he could be equally entitled to request he be granted that responsibility.”
Barely had the words left Eioth's mouth than the shouting began. Eioth sat back, smiling and content, his hands tucked into his sleeves as the debate raged about the room. Poor Chandri. He had never considered that possibility and now had to openly state that he was the better candidate and try to convince equally ambitious Lords; all pretense of modesty was gone. Even a few of his supporters began advancing themselves for consideration.
In the afternoon, Trevan began the session by reading a list of limits that he proposed be place upon any regency that was created. In the debate that followed, Halidan noted that when Eioth rose to speak the room fell silent; when Chandri rose, the noise level increased. It was obvious to her that many held Eioth in respect even as they disagreed with him, but as had been pointed out by Chandri, the crown was bestowed by acclamation and nothing less. All the High Lords had to agree. Even now, many did not want to grant their approval because they knew Chandri was trying to trick them, but if Eioth was to offer himself as an alternative Chandri and his friends would vote against him. It was a hopeless, eternal balance. No one could win and no one would yield. It was noon when Eioth rose and descended to stand on his place of the compass.
“It has occurred to me that we have spent all this time discussing what is fundamentally a personal problem. Chandri's children are missing and we are sorry for that. All efforts necessary have begun. Could we please return to the business of the Empire? That is why we are gathered here.”
“Seconded,” cried Senoia.
Chandri gave a benevolent nod. “Of course. If the herald will read the next matter, we shall continue.”
Mitash glared at him, then leaned across to nudge Halidan. “Already he tries to behave as if the power is his.”
“I have been reading the responsibilities of the High King,” said Halidan. “In the old epics, mostly, he says nothing at all.”
“Chandri will be disappointed if that is his role. He is in love with his own voice.”
Eioth turned in his seat and scowled at both of them. “Hush and attend to matters of importance, not gossip.”
The day ended without the vote Chandri desired being called for.
When the meeting was adjourned, everyone in the chamber saw Chandri cross the room to take Senoia's grandson aside for a quiet conference. Federan listened for a moment, then brushed Chandri's hand from his sleeve and returned to Senoia's side.
“You see, Halidan,” said Mitash. “Still Chandri's case is in doubt. Eioth and Senoia at least will not vote for him.”
“He must have something planned to gather all the votes,” said Halidan.
“We shall wait and see what is revealed,” said Eioth and continued out of the building wearing a serene smile.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The Ranks of Magicians and holders of Power stand thusly.
First, one serves an apprenticeship. Most do not have sufficient magic to pass beyond this stage.
Secondly, one serves as Journeyman and of those who graduate to this rank most never pass beyond as a consequence of either lack of ability or application.
Thereafter, stand Masters and Adepts.
Beyond them stand Teachers, for truly there is no magic that is not taught and no one with more power than the one who may give or deny the knowledge necessary to achieve the next level.
Therefore, grant to Teachers all respect and honor or the lesson you will learn is you should have done so.
The Elements Revealed
At the end of the first day of the Synod, the forecourt had been occupied with the carriages and horses of the Lords and their entourages and seemed crowded. Since Chandri's children had vanished, a mass of curious onlookers had added to the confusion. But, today the number was increased a hundredfold, a thousandfold. Rumors, spread no doubt by Chandri's followers, filled the city, leaked to the countryside and out to the Empire that this Synod would be announcing the crowning of a High King. Posters and banners bearing Chandri's personal sigil fluttered from windows and rooftops. Of course, in very small letters upon the bottom was written:
Reward for any information given that leads to the return of Nimen, Darsa, and Benei, the daughters of Chandri, High Lord of the South East Demesne.
Thus, the other High Lords could not protest the decorations.
Since not everyone could read words, the sigil said it all to most of the onlookers. Those people pouring into the city were supposed to see those banners and assume this was the sigil of the High Lord in ascendance, the one to be chosen. Halidan’s stomach curdled at the thought.
That evening, Chandri himself came to Eioth's House.
Eioth received him in one of the smaller chambers with Halidan and Mitash in attendance to stand as witnesses. After refusing the traditional refreshments, Chandri placed a solemn expression on his face and leaned toward Eioth.
“I come in person because there was a misunderstanding the last time I crossed the border into your demesne without your invitation. I do not want to send my searchers onto your land without your consent in advance.”
“What are you asking for?” Eioth settled back in his chair, his face impassive.
“I have received information that my daughters have been seen in Flickering Light township, not far from Hub of Harmony in your demesne.”
Eioth doubted that the rumor existed outside Chandri's plan, but did not protest.
“Do you accuse me of involvement?” Eioth permitted a growl to enter his voice.
“No. No. Of course not. I merely seek permission to send my searchers across. A group of two hundred guards and trackers to investigate. You understand, I hope, I do not want to take any chances with the safety of my children and must have numbers that can overwhelm the kidnappers when they are found.”
Mitash's breath hissed in when he heard the numbers. Eioth did not even change expression.
“You know I will not permit so many to cross my border. I must protect my own innocents. Two hundred armed guards can cause a great deal of mischief no matter how well intentioned they are.”
“There is no time to waste. The villains have had my children for days . . .”
“Chandri,” said Eioth in bored tones. “You do know that under no circumstances will I grant that many of your guards permission to go wandering aimlessly about my demesne. Certainly, I will not grant them power to seize, hold, and question, nor, before you ask, will I grant them judicial powers. That was, I suspect, your next request.”
Chandri arranged his features into an expression of deep pain. “My children . . .”
Eioth sighed. “If you will give me the information I shall have the rumors given all the attention they deserve.”
“You must promise to act on this information at once, Eioth. I depend upon you.”
&nb
sp; “I have already said it shall receive as much attention as it deserves.”
There was a pause as Chandri searched Eioth's face for sincerity, or even belief. Finding none, he shrugged.
“I am content. I have no choice. Even I must admit when you give your oath you can be relied upon.” Chandri cast an assessing glance toward Mitash and Halidan and shifted closer to Eioth, lowering his voice. “If I might address another matter with you . . . privately.”
Eioth made him wait several heartbeats before sending Mitash and Halidan to the other side of the room.
“Go ahead, Chandri, speak. Tell me. Dazzle me. I have been wracking my mind trying to think what complex plan you have created in order to obtain my support for your ascension; for I am certain that you are at least capable of remembering that I am one of the votes you require.”
Chandri shrugged and settled back in his chair. “No plan, Eioth. None at all. It has been long clear to me that you have given up all ambition. For, after all, a man without children has no reason to be ambitious. You are facing the end of your family line. For what reason would you seek fame or additional responsibilities? Any effort would be useless since you cannot pass anything on to the children you do not have.” He tried and failed to cast his features into a sympathetic mode. “I am honest since that is a virtue you approve. Three marriages and no children, Eioth. You have accepted the inevitable, and my information is, that you have not approached any families seeking another bride in over a decade. And now a mortal woman walks beside you! It is obvious to anyone with eyes you have resigned yourself to an empty future.”
Eioth sniffed, but no anger showed. “Please, Chandri. Your compliments will quite overwhelm my modesty.”
“I am not blind, neither am I facing the end of my family line,” continued Chandri. “I know of all in the Synod that you are my only real competition for the rank of High King, yet no one will vote for you since they know that in a few years we will be facing the same problem as today, an empty throne. You have no child to follow you, Eioth. You have accepted it. Now accept this. I have three daughters. Young, I will admit, but that is easily corrected by the passage of time. As for their education, they shall have the best tutors. If you wish to ensure the safety and security of the Empire after we have passed, then become one of the tutors to my daughters. Let that be your legacy. Only vote to support me and when I am High King, you shall be one of my most trusted advisors, helping me rule. Later, you may act as advisor to the High Queen. Think on it.”
