by D. L. Carter
His voice faded away and he stared off into the distance. Halidan’s heart froze. All the time they’d waited for Eioth to be free to perform magic, she’d believed, hoped that he would find a solution, a way to destroy Chandri’s hopes and ambition. To discover, now Eioth was free to do magic, there was no spell, no plan, was heartbreaking.
The only path available to them now was the same as from the beginning. All the High Lords had to agree on a High King!
“And you will refuse him,” said Halidan. “They were expecting you to be dead before the vote came. Imagine Chandri’s shock when you appear at the Synod tomorrow. He cannot win while you live.”
“There is something to be said for that,” agreed Eioth, slowly. “I can speak to him privately, assure him I know where the girls are. Tell him of Justovan’s treachery, that I shall lay at his door, deserved or not the deaths of my servants. Perhaps I can shame him. So much uncertainty. We shall continue as we have begun. Blocking his ambition with every part of wit and skill we possess.” His voice faltered and his face hardened. “And with every day, the pressure to choose him will build whether the girls return or no.”
Halidan stared at him. To see him so weary, so uncertain chilled her heart. She pressed a hand against her belly. It could not be. There had to be something more, something they could do.
“You are tired, Halidan,” said Eioth, “and in your condition you should rest.”
He climbed out of bed, unconcerned by his nakedness even as Halidan protested.
“Lenneth,” said Eioth, “ensure that she sleeps. You should sleep, Halidan,” said Eioth throwing back the covers and wrapping a robe about himself. “Lenneth, if you would attend me. We must speak.”
To Halidan it seemed that the morning came an instant later. She and Eioth prepared for the Synod without exchanging more than a few words. Their guards appeared at the proper hour and they set out.
And that was the last normal moment.
Masses of rowdy citizens filled every street, shouting and chanting, screaming and singing. Banners hung from houses and street signs, decorated with Chandri's sigil. Where normally the crowd would have parted without comment for the passage of the High Lord’s party, today people crowded close, grasping at whatever they could reach to obstruct their passage. Eioth's guards gathered close to them as the crowd thickened. One man shouted at Eioth through the barrier of the bodyguards.
“Who will you vote for?” he shrieked before the guards caught him up and forced him away. “Chandri! Chandri! Chandri!”
“Chandri! Chandri! Chandri!” the crowd echoed.
“Form up around Halidan,” shouted Eioth over the noise of the crowd.
Halidan tightened her grip on her reins and looked around for the familiar faces of her personal bodyguards. Cris, Nittel, and Morae, swords in hand, moved their horses to surround her. Impossible though it was, it seemed to Halidan that the mob sucked all air from her lungs and replaced it with burning heat. Her wide-eyed horse sidled in place.
“Shall I send to the House for more support, High Lord,” shouted the senior bodyguard using his horse to force back the encroachers.
“In this mess it is unlikely they will reach us,” said Eioth, as he examined the ebb and flow of people. “Look ahead. I see Lady Senoia, alone! Make a path to her, at once!”
Halidan shifted in her saddle. Lady Senoia in her tiny carriage was surrounded by a pushing, shoving, shouting crowd. There was no sign of Senoia's own entourage, or even her coachman, and the elderly Lady was paler than usual as she struggled to control her two horses. Halidan set her heels to her horses flank and urged him forward. A hand reached out of the milling crowd and grabbed her saddle horn. She almost kicked the owner away before she recognized the Elf’s livery as that of the High Lord Trevan.
“My Lord is that way,” he cried, pointing toward the east portcullis. “Trapped by the crowd. They will not let him enter the forecourt until he swears his vote for Chandri!”
Eioth scanned the crowd from his vantage point.
“We shall join up with Lady Senoia on the way to Lord Trevan,” he shouted. “I can see a few more of her group toward the east.”
Horses tight together they plowed their way through the crowds. As more and more liveried guards, some afoot, others still on horseback, arranged themselves around the High Lord their passage became easier, if still slow. Fearful of accidental injury, Halidan bade her guards to sheath their weapons. Friend and stranger were too close together for a naked edge in such a crowd.
“Senoia, come,” said Eioth as they came to her side. “Leave the carriage. Come up behind Halidan. Everyone else, arrange yourselves with the Ladies as your center.”
“I haven't seen Federan since we came under Peace Gate,” cried Lady Senoia, her voice tight with fear as she climbed awkwardly from her carriage and wrapped her arms around Halidan’s waist. “Perhaps Chandri will hold him hostage against my vote!”
“He is strong and sensible,” said Eioth. “If needed, he'll burn himself a new road to get back to your side.”
“Today would not be a good day to do that,” Senoia shuddered as the noise level rose even higher and the sound of Chandri's name being chanted, echoed until the whole city rang with it.
“We must get you inside before there is a riot,” cried Mitash. “Once we have you safe we will go out again for whomever we can find.”
The group changed direction. Once they'd increased their numbers, the path was easier and soon enough they forced their way through into the courtyard. The city guard let them through one at a time, but could not yet close the gate as all the Lords were not yet present. In the forecourt, Halidan was reluctant to dismount and lose the advantage of height. She slipped her hand into her sash and gripped her father's book brace for what reassurance it could bring. It would not be much use against a crowd of this size and nature, but she felt better for its weight in her hand.
Before they reached the stairs, they found a few stragglers from True South, including Federan, who had been pulled from his horse and roughed up by the crowd before he’d escaped, and some liveried guards from four more demesnes.
It was with great relief that they made their way into the great hall. Staff from Synod Hall, servants, archivists all stood at the top of the stairs shoulder to shoulder trying to keep those without proper business within the building from entering.
Halidan paused at the door, staring back at the crowd. Mitash waited beside her.
“Look at them,” cried Halidan. “You can feel the mood of the crowd from here. They’ll tear Eioth apart if he votes against Chandri.”
“Do not give up hope, Halidan. All may yet come right.”
She gave him a narrow-eyed stare.
“You do not believe that.”
Mitash sighed. “We have no choice, but to hope, Halidan.”
“You know it’s true. One word, one sign that he will not support Chandri and the whole city will turn against him!”
“Take her to the chamber, friend Mitash,” came a familiar voice behind them. “Her pregnancy is too new for her to be wearied.”
Mitash’s response was immediate. He seized her arm and pulled her firmly away from the door. Halidan was surprised to see that Healer Lenneth was somehow a member of their group. She'd been so focused on the crowd she hadn't noticed him appear at her side. She was grateful enough for his assistance as the healer turned his attention to the ancient High Lady Senoia who was pale and shaken and refusing to release her grip on her grandson.
The chanting from the crowd intensified. All those gathered within the shelter of the hall watched and worried as it seemed that the crowd was flooding toward them despite the labors of the staff. Minutes passed and finally Chandri and his entourage appeared, cheered by the crowd as he rode through a channel formed by his supporters. Chandri paused at the top of the stairs to wave and smile at his supporters before entering the hall.
“He seems to be barely surviving his grief and worry f
or his daughters,” jested Mitash with a faint smile, but those within earshot did not laugh.
Halidan found she could not join in the humor. It was inevitable Chandri would call for a vote today claiming the noise from this crowd as his acclamation. There was no time left to act. Knowing the girls’ location and knowing what to do about it were two different things. There was no time. No spell to hold back the weight of the people. To change the path Chandri had placed their feet upon.
“We should wait inside,” was all that Eioth said.
Halidan wanted to scream. To rage at the crowd for their stupidity. For their acceptance of this farce. But, she knew, as Eioth obviously did, that there were no words to undo this day’s inevitable end. With a sigh, she took the arm Eioth offered and went with him into the hall.
Those who could find some excuse or claim some right to be inside Synod Hall were there that morning. Priests of all the Elements – Water, Air, Fire, Earth, High Court Elves, Mid Court merchants, everyone who could beg or trade on obligations were present. When Chandri stepped into the shelter of the hall, they all flowed toward him, clamoring for his notice.
“Don't they realize what he's doing?” muttered Halidan. “All that clumsy and obvious plotting and deception. How can they endure it?”
“It matters not that he was clumsy,” said Lenneth. “It is the result that counts.”
The Synod guards required assistance from all the gathered bodyguards to control the crowd that attempted to follow Chandri into the hall. Eventually control was established and a smaller group followed the High Lords into the Synod. Eioth took his place without comment or change of expression. Lenneth left Halidan’s side to escort Senoia to her place. Without him as an anchor, Halidan was forced by the press of the crowd away from Eioth’s chair. She struggled for a time against the tide of people, then yielded and let them sweep her away. She had no deep need to see this farce played out. It was only important that she be near to Eioth, to support him as much as she could when the vote was taken. No matter which way he voted, she would stay with him. Join her presence with his. Accept whatever result came.
To her surprise Lenneth worked his way across the room to stand at Halidan's side. In response to her puzzled look, he merely smiled and directed her attention to the speaker’s floor.
To no one’s particular astonishment, Chandri rose as soon as the priest’s blessing was completed and descended to stand before the throne.
“As everyone here is aware, it has been four days since my children were kidnapped. No hour has passed that I do not pray and wish for their return . . .”
At that moment Lenneth took Halidan by the arm.
“Trust me,” he whispered.
Halidan's skin burned as the world grayed before her. She was dimly aware of Lenneth catching her about the waist and easing her toward the floor before her vision faded completely.
An unmeasured period of time later, Halidan blinked and shook her head. She was stretched out on the cold stone floor and Lenneth was kneeling at her side.
“What happened?” she mumbled.
“Be patient,” whispered Lenneth as he aided her to stand and held onto her until she was steady on her feet. “And, do not worry. Your child is well.”
Leaning heavily on Lenneth's arm Halidan stared about the room. All about the chamber people were waking, shaking themselves and staring about in confusion. Complaints and questions rose from all quarters and the silence became a roar of voices.
A startled cry came from the center of the room. Halidan tried to peer over taller shoulders and caught a glimpse of an unconscious Chandri stretched out across the compass with his daughters asleep, curled up beside him.
“Chandri's daughters have been returned,” shouted a voice from the other side of the room.
“Who saved them?” cried another.
Chatter rose and fell as the question was repeated and no one came forward to claim responsibility.
“Who will rule?” asked another.
“The regency vote was not taken,” replied Trevan in a loud voice. “Nor was there a vote on the Royal Trial. The children have been returned before Chandri's plan reached its final peak.” He began to laugh. “Poor Chandri, his wish is granted before his plot is complete.”
After a pause, several of the Lords joined him. Eioth did not. The noise was enough to awaken Chandri. He staggered to his feet, impeded rather than aided by his daughters, who awoke and clutched at him.
The eldest looked around, confused.
“The Synod Hall? Father? But, we aren't supposed to come here unt . . .”
“Silence,” growled her father and pulled her up and thrust her across the speaker’s floor into the arms of one of his servants.
Chandri was not confused for long. He took in the amused air of the room, the presence of his children, and addressed the Synod firmly.
“Whether the girls are returned or not, the most important matter before the Synod remains the disposition of the throne. We were in agreement acknowledging the need for a High King. I nominate myself.” He slammed his fist onto his chest. “In addition to my many years of service to the Empire, I have one virtue that some of you cannot claim. I have heirs upon which to bestow this responsibility in the fullness of time. Children! The true jewels of the Empire! ”
Before he could continue, Eioth rose.
“On that subject, I have something to report. I would beg your patience Chandri, for a moment only”
Chandri glared at him, lips clamped tight. “You will wait until I have finished.”
Eioth shook his head slowly. “No, I think not. With what you have planned, my simple words would not be heard amid the clamor were I to wait. I would beg your indulgence, for a moment only. I swear to you what I have to say has no bearing upon who shall have the throne. I have something important to say on the subject of children. Surely you, so well provided in that area, could have no objections. Put it to the vote, if you wish. I will accept the decision of the Synod.” He glanced about the room. “Well, will you hear my words before Chandri continues his petition?”
“Speak, Eioth,” cried Senoia.
“Let him speak, Chandri,” cried one of his supporters. “It may be that he has finally seen reason. It may be he is ready to acclaim you.”
Chandri stared at him, deeply suspicious but could find no objection to make.
“Do you doubt my word?” demanded Eioth.
“Speak, Eioth,” said Trevan. “Yours might be the last words of sense in this hall today.”
“Very well. Say on,” said Chandri. “Afterwards, you will head my words.”
“As you wish.” Eioth turned to address all gathered in the chamber. “During the last week, we have torn the Empire apart seeking a few lost children. Lord Chandri had our sympathy, in part because there are so many families with none. He is correct on that one matter only. The lack of High Court children is a deep and abiding wound. Recently, it has come to my attention there is a solution. Children are no great achievement, Chandri. If it were not for a secret kept beyond sense by the Water Temple, we of the High Court could have as many children as we choose.”
“You may not speak of this,” cried Lenneth leaving Halidan's side and descending in haste onto the speaker’s floor to face Eioth. “It is a private matter of the Water Temple.”
“Private matter?” thundered Eioth. “You cannot name it so. Do you not realize how close we came to having no Master or Adept potential children? Think of how few Masters or Adept level magicians we have in training today because those with the greatest power have been unable to engender children? I know how I am stretched across my demesne trying to do the work of five or six Adepts, with only five Masters to aid me, where in the past there have been ten or twenty. That is how low our numbers have fallen and all because the Temple lost a secret.”
“The secrets of the Temples are sacrosanct, High Lord Eioth.” Lenneth pulled himself to his full height. “I tell you, you do not have the
authority to reveal any of them.”
“I can and will. Have you forgotten what happens when the great spells fail? The citizens of Raging Waters can tell you, if you need reminding.”
“Eioth,” called Senoia. “What are you talking about?”
Ignoring Lenneth's continued protests Eioth turned to face the occupants of the hall.
“The problem that prevents the conception of children.” Eioth waved Lenneth away and recited. “And the Water priest took Norfarland aside to speak with him and bless him, then he was taken into isolation by friends and the brothers of the bride, who were to attend him for the period of one moon, lest he be a disappointment to his wife.” He turned to face his stunned audience. “People without number have read these words from the ninth Adventure of Norfarland without realizing what they truly meant. The catastrophe of the great plague affects us still. We assumed that some change had come upon the survivors, which limited our fertility, but it was more the deaths of hundreds of the Water priests that was the cause! The secret that they passed on to the grooms when they went into isolation for the Bachelor's Moon . . .”
“Eioth, you cannot say it,” cried Lenneth.
“You cannot prevent it. This is too important to be a secret held to give power to one small group of priests. Everyone who can channel magic must know. Males who practice magic must abstain from magic for the period of one moon to become fertile!” Eioth stared directly at Chandri. “Soon we shall have children of our own bodies.”
Chandri paled and stepped back, his eyes wide as stunned whispers filled the room as those near enough to hear passed the secret to those behind and on and on out to those waiting in the forecourt; the word spread. Eioth, High Lord of the North West had found the solution to the crisis of the High Court!
They could have children!
And as the impact of the words sank into his listener’s minds, the cheering began.
Trevan left his chair and hurried to stand on his place of the compass raising his hands high for silence.
“High Lords, hear me. In the last few days we have considered granting the rank of High King to a Lord who was willing to risk the lives and safety of his own daughters to invoke our sympathy. It terrifies me to think how close he came to achieving his aim. Now we have before us, Eioth who has freely and without limit granted us the knowledge needed to restore the depleted ranks of the High Court magicians. I ask you, Lords and Lady, consider. Consider Chandri, the deceiver, the unworthy father, and then consider Eioth, who could have set a high price upon his knowledge, who could have gone behind the scenes to whisper and gain alliances and obligations, but did not. Eioth, who came and in a loud voice and against the will of the Water Temple gave us back hope for the future. My Lords and Lady, I ask you to acclaim Eioth as High King!”
